Morden cocked his head at me. ‘Wondering when that will be yours?’
‘I know exactly when that will be mine,’ I said dryly. ‘When I’m an actual member of the Council instead of your representative, which seems unlikely ever to happen.’
‘Really?’
I looked back at Morden, eyebrows slightly raised. I didn’t see any need to disclose the details of Talisid’s offer. And I know why you have that thing hanging there too. It’s a reminder that until sentence is pronounced, you’re still a member of the Council, with all that implies. But right now you’re the one in the weaker position, not me.
‘So,’ Morden said. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Odd as it may sound, I was wondering if you had any advice.’
‘Advice?’
‘I’ve been filling in for you in your position for more than half a year now,’ I said. ‘And honestly? I’m wondering how you lasted as long as you did. Not a week goes by where there isn’t some plot to kill me or unseat me. How did you manage to survive when so many of the Light mages hated you so much?’
‘Ah.’ Morden settled back in his chair more comfortably. ‘That’s really no great mystery. The fact is, the majority of the Council mages don’t hate me. Or you, for that matter.’
‘Could have fooled me.’
‘Oh, I’m not saying they wouldn’t happily unseat you,’ Morden said. ‘But they’d do that to anyone if they thought it was to their advantage. You’re right that they have some personal animosity, but it’s not you they have a problem with, it’s the disruption you represent.’ Morden steepled his fingers, looking rather like a professor explaining a point to a student. ‘The key to understanding the Council is to realise that the majority of its mages don’t believe in anything greater than themselves. They might pay lip service to the Council’s official purpose, but they don’t have any deep-seated loyalty. So while they might protest the presence of a Dark mage, it’s not out of any particular moral indignation. It’s simply because you’re pushing your way into their private club.’
‘Seems as though you got a little more hostility than would be explained by just that.’
‘Only because I was the first. If there’s one thing the Council can agree on, it’s that their power and privileges shouldn’t go to anyone else.’ Morden shrugged. ‘But that kind of resistance is temporary. Given a few years, it should fade.’
I noticed that he said should fade instead of would have faded. Apparently he wasn’t ready to put it in the past tense. ‘I don’t think the Guardians and the Crusaders are just temporary resistance.’
‘The Guardian ideology was always going to be the major stumbling block in Dark–Light integration.’
‘And Levistus?’ I said. I’d started this conversation as an icebreaker, but I was curious now. ‘You think that’s what’s driving him?’
‘Levistus is an interesting case,’ Morden said. ‘He’s the type of person who can only exist once a structure has grown old enough and influential enough that people genuinely cannot conceive of a world beyond it. It’s no surprise that he rose to the Counciclass="underline" his entire world is the Council. That’s not to say he’s stupid or parochial, but it would simply never occur to him that the centre of Britain could ever be anything other than the Light Council and the mages who control it. Most organisations end up run by people like him, once the creators and the zealots have died off.’
‘Hmm,’ I said. I looked at Morden speculatively. ‘If that’s what they believe in, what about you?’
Morden smiled. ‘Personal questions, now? I’m flattered by your interest. But in any case, I think that should explain how I was able to gain this position.’
‘To be honest, I’m a little surprised,’ I said. ‘I was expecting an answer that was more … tactical.’
‘You were expecting something to do with White Rose?’ Morden asked. ‘Oh, that made things easier, but all it really did was accelerate things. Do you think any amount of secrets could have enabled me to buy my way onto the Council if they’d really been determined to stop me? If they’d simply stood together and declared that they were not admitting a Dark mage, no matter what, then that would have been the end of it. But they were more concerned with their own individual self-interest.’
‘Hmm,’ I said. Something about what Morden was saying seemed backwards. I’m used to thinking of Dark mages as the self-interested ones. Could that have been the real reason that Morden had been able to succeed? Because the Council had reached the point where they weren’t different enough from their enemies? ‘So you’re saying the Council isn’t so averse to dealing with Dark mages after all.’
‘They never have been,’ Morden said. ‘It’s the disorganisation of the Dark mages that the Council dislike, not their ethics. They can’t negotiate with them as a group, because there’s no binding representative. Once I explained to them that by including me on the Council they would have that representative …’ Morden shrugged. ‘Well.’
‘Funny you should mention the subject of the Council negotiating.’
‘Yes, I rather suspected that might be why you were here.’ Morden rested his chin on his hands. ‘So what message does the Council have for me today?’
‘You know what the sentence is for your charge,’ I said, watching Morden carefully. His eyes didn’t flicker. ‘It probably won’t surprise you that a good number of the Council would be delighted to see you dead.’
‘But?’
‘But as you say, some of them do see that having a single Dark representative to negotiate with is more beneficial than having a corpse.’
Morden nodded. ‘I assume that this generosity does not come without a price.’
‘The problem from their point of view is that in everyone’s eyes you clearly committed the crimes you’re charged with,’ I said. ‘So they can’t exactly just pardon you.’
‘What did they have in mind instead?’
I’d been looking into the futures in which I broached the subject, probing for how Morden would respond. It wasn’t working. Divination isn’t much help against someone like Morden – he’s too self-controlled. ‘They want to use you to catch a bigger fish,’ I said, and stopped. We both knew there was only one ‘bigger fish’ that I could mean.
Morden nodded. ‘I see.’
‘You don’t seem very surprised.’
‘It was always one of the logical paths for them to take,’ Morden said. ‘I assume the quid pro quo is that I’m allowed to live?’
‘That’s the long and the short of it.’
‘Let me guess,’ Morden said. ‘Proceedings are to be halted?’
I nodded.
‘Have you thought through the implications?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Halting proceedings isn’t the same as finding you not guilty. A not guilty verdict ends the case. Halting proceedings just suspends it. Which means they can hold it over your head in the future. It’s a way of keeping you on a leash.’
‘You aren’t selling it very hard.’
I shrugged. ‘It’s nothing you couldn’t figure out yourself.’
‘There is a second implication you may not have considered,’ Morden said. ‘If I do indeed help the Council to catch this “bigger fish”, everyone will know about it, especially once I’m released without charges. Which will severely affect my credibility among Britain’s Dark mages. I’ll still be their representative, but they will no longer trust me, which will leave me with no one to turn to but the Council itself.’
I nodded. The Council wanted a Dark representative, but they wanted him defanged. ‘That seems accurate.’