The pedestrian traffic streamed past as Talisid hesitated, people giving us irritated looks. I knew he was deciding what to tell me. “The truth, please,” I said quietly.
Talisid sighed slightly. “Part of my job involves planning for future possibilities. The possibilities are not always pleasant.”
“Really.”
“Our models estimated a low to moderate chance that Richard would attempt to recruit you within two years of his hypothetical return,” Talisid said. “The probability was assessed as being too low to justify the security risk of sharing the information.” He paused. “I requested that you be told regardless. I was overruled.”
“And that was my role in your model,” I said. “Spying for the Council. Just out of curiosity, what life expectancy did your analysts give me if I said yes?”
“Believe me when I say that I understand exactly how dangerous Richard is,” Talisid said. “But for that very reason it’s critical that we learn more about his plans. I know how much we would be asking, and I’d be authorised to offer a great deal in exchange.” He paused. “You would probably be doing more to work against Richard’s goals than any other mage in the world.”
I was silent.
“Forgive me for asking,” Talisid said. “But when Richard asked you to join him, what was your answer?”
“I gave him the same answer I’m going to give you right now.” I leant close to Talisid. He didn’t flinch, and I spoke very clearly. “I am not going back to Richard. Not ever.”
Talisid studied me for a long moment before replying. “He may not give you the choice.”
I walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Talisid didn’t follow.
That evening found me alone in my flat.
After meeting Talisid, I’d been to visit Arachne. I told her everything that had happened, both in the shadow realm and after. We talked for a long while, and by the time we’d finished and I’d left to make my way home, the sun had set. I was tired, but I was too wired to sleep. I sat at my desk and stared out the window, my thoughts going round in circles.
I’d been at it for an hour before something made me look up. I turned around on my chair to see a blink fox sitting in the middle of my living room floor, its tail curled around its legs.
I stared at it. “How did you get in here?”
The blink fox just looked at me. “I have gate wards specifically to stop people sneaking in like this,” I said. “And I didn’t give you my address.”
The blink fox yawned, came smoothly to its feet, and disappeared out the door. I got up and followed to see it sitting in my kitchen. It looked at me, then at the fridge, then back at me.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
The fox blinked twice.
“Okay, I know I promised I’d help you out, but this is ridiculous. You do not need my help to feed yourself.”
The fox looked at the fridge again, flicking its tail from side to side. I’d just opened my mouth to say something else when I heard the bell ring downstairs. “Now what?” I muttered, and turned to the door before pointing at the fox. “You stay here.”
The fox tilted its head.
I opened the shop door. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Anne said. She looked better, if a little tired. It actually felt a little weird to see her in normal clothes again.
“The Keepers let you out?”
“A few hours ago. Vari picked me up.”
“Oh. Cool.”
There was an awkward silence. Anne stood on the doorstep. Outside on the street, a car buzzed by.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Sure.” Anne stepped inside and glanced up. “Did you know you’ve got a fox in your kitchen?”
I sighed. “I don’t suppose that lifesight is any good for figuring out what blink foxes eat?”
“. . . and they didn’t ask much else,” Anne said fifteen minutes later. We were sitting in the living room; the muffled crunch of eating came from the kitchen. “They didn’t seem to care about anything except Crystal.”
“Did they give you any trouble?”
“Not compared to last time.”
“That’s not saying much.”
“It’s not, is it?” Anne said. “I think my standards are getting low.”
“Did you come here from the station?”
“Vari picked me up. We . . . had a lot to talk about.”
The crunching sounds from the kitchen stopped. A moment later the blink fox trotted into the living room, jumped up onto the sofa, turned around several times before settling down in a tight curl, nose to tail, yawned loudly, then laid its head down and appeared to go to sleep.
“What’s it doing here?” Anne asked curiously.
“I have no idea,” I said in annoyance. “I thought this thing was trying to get away from mages. I figured as soon as I gave it a way out, it’d disappear into London and we’d never see it again. I wasn’t expecting it to walk into my bloody living room.”
Anne smiled slightly. “Maybe it trusts you.”
“Don’t know why.” I looked at the fox; it seemed to have gone to sleep. I couldn’t figure out why it would let its guard down like that. If my experience of mages had been limited to ones like Sagash and his apprentices, I wouldn’t have been that keen to find more of them. But everyone has their own story . . .
I stole a glance at Anne. She was sitting quietly on the other end of the sofa, dressed in her street clothes, looking out the window at the Camden nightlights. Yet only yesterday I’d seen her walk into a duelling circle, bloodied and half dressed and surrounded by enemies, and destroy Crystal in five seconds flat. No matter how vivid the memory, it was hard to match it with what I was seeing now. It really did feel as though she were a different person.
“Do you mind if I ask you a favour?” Anne asked.
“Sure. What is it?”
“Vari and I went back and had a look at my flat in Honor Oak,” Anne said. “It’s not damaged or anything, but . . . well, after what happened, I think I need somewhere a bit safer. So I was wondering . . .”
“Wondering?”
“Whether you could help me set up some defences,” Anne said. “Like you’ve got here. Gate wards and things, so people can’t just teleport into my bedroom. Sonder’s letting me stay over for now but . . . sooner or later I’d like to have my own place. Somewhere safe.”
I looked at Anne for a second, then nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
There was a pause. Anne hadn’t brought up the subject of what I’d told her before that duel, and it was making me feel awkward. If she was upset, she wasn’t showing it.
Well, maybe you should stop guessing and ask. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said. “About what I said at the arena. I didn’t mean to . . .” To hurt her? That had been exactly what I’d been trying to do. Okay, so telling the truth might not be the most diplomatic option . . .
Anne looked down at the blink fox. It was snoozing, its chest rising and falling very slightly. “If you hadn’t told me that, I’d probably be dead.”
I didn’t answer.
“Vari was telling me about what happened while I was gone,” Anne said, looking up at me. “Did you know that he and Luna were looking for a way to gate into Sagash’s shadow realm?”
“I heard,” I said. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that one of the things I’d told Anne in that arena had actually been true. If Vari and Luna had been able to pull it off, they might have saved us both . . . and they might have died pointless deaths.
“I told Vari he shouldn’t have been trying to go after me,” Anne said, partly echoing my thoughts. “He said he didn’t care, he’d have done it anyway. It made me . . .” Anne trailed off, started again. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be friends with lately. I knew I was in danger, but . . . I never really put it together that I was putting all of you in danger too.”