“Just the two, so far,” Talisid murmured.
The leader of the pack of adepts who’d come after me last year had been an American citizen named Will. After what had happened to him the American Council had started making noises, and since Talisid owed me a couple of favours I’d asked him for help. For the last few months Talisid had been acting as my go-between, as well as advisor on the kind of points of law you really don’t want to ask about in public. The really screwed-up part is that under mage law, what I’d done to Will and the Nightstalkers had been perfectly legal. There’s a reason adepts don’t like the Council much.
I twirled my butter knife absently. “How bad an idea would it be to tell them to get lost?”
“They’re not going to try to extradite you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Talisid said. “But if you’re ever planning to set foot in North America, it might be a better idea to clean this up now rather than later.”
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Tell them—again—that I’ve no idea where Richard is or what he’s been up to, but I could fill in their files about the rest of those adepts. Maybe they’ll trade for that.”
“It’s possible. There might be a more direct approach.”
I eyed Talisid. “Such as?”
“The American Council are as interested in the reports concerning Richard as we are,” Talisid said. “If you could confirm or deny them . . .”
I sighed. “Not this again.”
“You are uniquely qualified to investigate the issue.”
“Investigate what? A bunch of rumours?”
“Those same rumours have persisted for almost a year,” Talisid said. “In my experience that tends to indicate an active source. Besides—”
“Is there any actual proof?”
“No,” Talisid said after a very slight pause.
“I’m not keen on poking around asking questions on the Dark side of the fence just so the Council can feel better about themselves. I’m not exactly popular there, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I would have thought it concerns you rather directly as well.”
“Richard’s gone,” I said. It came out more harshly than I’d intended. I’d had a dream last year in which Richard had definitely not been gone, and it had shaken me more than I was willing to admit. But months had passed and nothing had happened, and eventually I’d been able to make myself believe that it really had only been a dream. The only reason I hadn’t managed to put it out of my mind completely was that everyone else kept bringing it up.
Talisid opened his mouth and I raised my hand to cut him off. “You’ve asked me to do this what, three times now? The answer’s still no.”
Talisid paused again, studying me, and I felt the futures swirl. “As you wish,” he said at last.
Food arrived and occupied us for some minutes. “Have you been following the political developments?” Talisid asked.
“Which ones?”
“The movement to include Dark mages on the Council has picked up again. The main one pushing for it appears to be your old friend Morden.”
“He’s not my friend, and no, I hadn’t heard. Doesn’t this come up every few years?”
“This time may be different—the unity bloc has been gaining influence. I was wondering if you’d heard anything.”
“That kind of stuff’s above my pay grade.”
“Would you be interested in changing that?”
I shot Talisid a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The faction I represent has reasons to be concerned with the current state of affairs. A better-developed intelligence network would be useful.”
“And you want me to do what, play James Bond?” I said in amusement. “I think most of the agents in those stories had a really short life expectancy.”
“It’s a little less dramatic than that,” Talisid said with a slight smile. “It’s information we need, not commando raids. We simply never know as much as we’d like to. It’s more for the future than right now—there’s nothing that needs immediate attention. Just something to think about.”
“Hm.” I started to lift my water glass, then stopped. “Wait a second. Is this what you’ve been planning all along?”
“How do you mean?”
I stared at Talisid, glass in hand, as things suddenly fell into place. “This is what you’ve been working up to, isn’t it? I always wondered why someone as high up as you would be keeping up a relationship with an ex–Dark diviner. You’ve been hoping I’ll sign on with you. Have you been testing me all this time? Was that what all those jobs were about?”
Talisid raised a hand. “Slow down.”
“Bit late for that.” I was running over my past encounters with Talisid, making connections. “So which is it?”
“While your conclusion is . . . not exactly incorrect, you have things slightly out of order.” Talisid didn’t look particularly surprised, and I realised that he must have been anticipating the way the conversation was going to go. “I originally approached you because your position and abilities were favourably placed to help us. On the basis of that performance I approached you again, and so on. I didn’t involve you in past events in order to make you this offer. I’m making you this offer because of your performance in past events.”
“And what exactly is the offer?”
“Verus, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. I said that we needed information, and that was what I meant.” Talisid watched me mildly. “You aren’t under any obligation to undertake tasks that you don’t want to. Isn’t that exactly the basis on which we’ve worked before?”
The difference is that I’d be an employee instead of a freelancer. But I didn’t say that out loud, because as usual, Talisid was being reasonable. I had worked for him enough times by now, and he had dealt honestly with me each time. Looked at that way, it wasn’t really that big a step.
Except . . . it would mean joining the Council. “I appreciate the offer,” I said with an effort. “But I don’t think I’d make a very good Light mage.”
“Why?”
Because I used to be a Dark mage and half the Council hates me for it. Because the Council left me to die when I needed them most and I hate them for it. Because I think the Council are treacherous weasels. And because I don’t think I’ve got any right to call myself a servant of light, even if most of the Council don’t deserve that title either . . .
“Verus?” Talisid said when I stared past him without answering.
“Let’s just say I don’t think we’d get on,” I said at last.
“I’m aware of your history.” Talisid’s voice was gentle, and I looked at him in surprise. The sympathy in his eyes might be fake, but if it was it was a convincing fake. “But what’s done is done. I think you could have a future with the Council. I won’t press you, but the offer is open. When you have the time, think it over.” Talisid paid the bill and walked out towards the exit, leaving me sitting at the table staring after him.
I took the Tube from Holborn, changing at Liverpool Street and again at Whitechapel to take the London Overground south over the river. It was a long journey, and it gave me plenty of time to think.
Talisid’s offer had come as more of a shock than it really should have. I’d been working for him for two years, on and off, and if I’d been paying attention I would have noticed the way things had been heading a while ago. Probably the reason I hadn’t picked up on it was that it had simply never occurred to me that anyone on the Council would actually want me on their side.
The more I thought about it, the more tempting it sounded. Talisid wouldn’t be able to snap his fingers and put me into the Council’s inner circle, but he could do a lot towards getting me accepted. And being a Light mage, even a probationary one, would make my life easier in a hundred little ways. I’d have a stronger legal footing in case of any disputes, which would make it that much less likely that anyone would challenge me in the first place, and it would really help with Luna’s education. I’d be able to get her into restricted classes in the apprentice program, maybe even find her a Light chance mage as a specialist instructor.