Every now and again, though, the Council does need to confine someone, either because neither a fine nor execution is an option, or (more often) because they simply haven’t decided what to do with them yet. And that’s why they have San Vittore.
‘Are you carrying on your person any one-shot items, focus items, imbued items or magical items of any sort?’ the stone-faced guard asked me.
‘No.’
‘Do you have on your person any kind of blade or edged weapon, any kind of firearm or projectile weapon, any kind of explosive device or anything that could be assembled into an explosive device?’
‘No.’
‘Are you carrying any drugs or drug-related items or paraphernalia, any flammable or corrosive liquids, any alcohol in any form, any poisonous or infectious materials such as pesticides, insecticides, cyanides, laboratory specimens or bacterial cultures, and are you carrying any gas or pressure containers including but not limited to aerosols, carbon dioxide cartridges, oxygen tanks, Mace, pepper spray or liquid nitrogen?’
I looked at the guard with raised eyebrows. ‘Oxygen tanks?’
‘Are you carrying any of the listed items?’
‘No, I keep those in my other coat.’
‘Are you carrying any cameras or other photographic devices, mobile telephones or other communication devices, laptop computers, tablet computers, personal computers, tape recorders, digital recorders, digital music players, CD players, DVD players or anything that can record, project or store digital information in any way?’
‘You know that nobody actually uses CD players any more, right?’
‘Are—’
‘—you carrying any of the listed items, I know,’ I said with a sigh. ‘The answer is still no. I already had all these questions asked by the guy who scanned me.’
‘Are you aware that bringing any of the items listed, or any other item that can facilitate an escape in any way, whether knowingly or unknowingly, will be considered a breach of the First Clause of the Concord and punishable to the fullest extent of the law?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Can we go now?’
The guard pushed a set of forms across the table. ‘Read and sign, then follow me. You are not to travel anywhere unaccompanied in this facility under any circumstances. Attempting to do so will result in immediate termination of your visit and prosecution to the fullest extent of the law.’
For someone who uses long words, this guy has a really limited vocabulary. I scanned the forms, scribbled my signature in two places and dated it. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
The guard examined the signature, put the forms away in a drawer, then got to his feet and headed towards the door at the back of the room. I followed.
We came out into a corridor of grey stone, the floor worn smooth from years of use. San Vittore is divided into wings, stretching out from a single central node, and through the narrow windows to the left and right I could see other corridors receding into the distance. The corridors were walled in grey, with red tiles on the roof. Beyond the corridors, both above and below, was nothingness, a black void with barely visible lines of purple and red spidering through the darkness in a strange, disturbing way that made your eyes ache if you stared at them for too long. I didn’t know what would happen if you stepped off the edge into that darkness, and I didn’t really want to find out.
All in all, while San Vittore did look like a fortress, it didn’t look like the old Middle Ages kind – instead the design made me think more of the big low-slung polygon-shaped fortifications that had evolved in Europe during the age of gunpowder. It definitely didn’t look like a castle rising out of the haze, which suggested that Anne’s dream had been just that.
We passed through a guard post, followed by another checkpoint, this one staffed by mantis golems, their silver and gold eyes swivelling to watch us as we passed. The more we walked, the more I was struck just by how over the top the security here was. Even getting in and out of the bubble realm was fantastically difficult – maybe a dedicated gate magic specialist might have been able to figure out a method of entry other than the Council facility that held the linking portal, but I couldn’t – and once you were inside, your problems would only multiply. Even with all Morden’s power, I couldn’t see him escaping.
Which, again, raised the question of why he’d allowed himself to be taken here. Well, I would be meeting him face to face soon enough. But I still would have felt a lot more comfortable knowing what he was really up to.
The guard stopped in front of a solid metal door. ‘You have forty-five minutes,’ he told me. ‘Inner and outer doors won’t open if there are any unauthorised presences in the airlock. Understand?’
I nodded. I didn’t bother to ask if we’d be watched while I was inside: I already knew the answer would be yes. The door swung open with a hiss of hydraulics and I stepped inside into an airlock-style room, empty stone with metal doors ahead and behind. The outer door closed behind me.
As I stood in the airlock, I was uncomfortably aware of just how easy it would be for the guards to forgo letting me out. Yes, this prison was supposed to be for Morden, but now that I was inside, it would stop me just as easily. I’d scanned the futures extensively before coming (and taken precautions just in case) and everything I’d done or seen had indicated that there was no risk, but all the same, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Like all diviners, my first line of defence against any threat is manoeuvre, and being unable to withdraw from a position makes me uncomfortable. With hindsight, that might have been one of the reasons I’d never visited Morden until now.
But let’s be honest, a much bigger reason is the little fact that you were one of the people who got him sent here. Sure, he might not take it personally. But if it were me, I’m pretty sure I would.
My thoughts were cut off by the hiss of the inner door. I straightened and walked through.
For a cell in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison in a bubble realm floating in the void, Morden’s quarters weren’t bad. Okay, so there were no windows or phones or computers, and as far as I could see the only source of entertainment was a half-stocked bookcase, but the floor had a carpet and the bed looked fairly comfortable. I’d been half-expecting a dungeon with bars and chains, but apparently Morden’s rank still earned him a decent living space.
Morden was sitting behind a table, and he’d obviously been expecting me. The Dark mage looked a little thinner than when I’d seen him last, the angles of his face more defined. The attitude of confidence didn’t change though – as I entered, he nodded to me in a companionable way that gave no hint that he was a prisoner. I’d never been quite sure whether that ever-present confidence of Morden’s was fake, a performance to impress people, or whether he really was just that sure of himself.
‘Verus,’ Morden said. ‘I was wondering when you’d stop by. Why don’t you take a seat?’
I hid a smile. Even here, he was still acting as though he were in command. ‘Thank you.’ As I walked over, I noticed a gold chain hanging from the bookcase behind Morden. It was placed in such a way that anyone entering the room would see it.