‘And that’s it?’ Ji-yeong asked. ‘I just walk away?’
‘That’s right.’
Ji-yeong stared at me for a long moment. ‘I don’t understand you,’ she said at last.
‘You don’t need to,’ I said. ‘Goodbye. I doubt we’ll meet again.’
I travelled a little way east, to Canonbury. There, on an ordinary-looking street, I found a place under an ordinary-looking tree, opposite from an ordinary-looking house. I leant against the tree and waited.
When I’d talked to Luna about everyone Anne might carry a grudge against, I’d listed people from the magical world. But Anne had had a life before becoming a mage. The house opposite me right now was the home of the foster family with whom she’d spent most of her childhood, and deep down, she probably hated them as much as everyone else on that list put together.
I stood under the tree as the light faded and the sun sank below the horizon. Above me, the sky faded from cyan to royal blue to deep purple. Around me, the sounds of traffic rose and fell, carried on the breeze. I let the sounds of the city wrap around me, trying to take what calm from it I could. And somewhere beyond, through another sense, I watched the shifting futures.
The phone in my pocket buzzed, breaking me out of my trance. I glanced at who it was, then reached out through the dreamstone. November?
Oh good, you’re there. November’s thoughts feel different from those of a human: smoother, more precise, like blocks of machined glass. I hope I’m not distracting you.
It’s fine. How did everything go?
Your new acquaintance checked in at reception one hour and thirteen minutes ago, November said. Since then, she’s activated her new phone, made two calls to mobile numbers in South Korea, picked out three sets of clothes from those made available to her, had a shower, and called for room service. Twice.
Sounds like she’s doing fine. Any news?
The Council net is highly active, November said. All the data I can intercept is consistent with preparations for a major military strike.
At least they’re taking it seriously.
It certainly appears so, November said. And I gather from your location that you are . . . waiting.
Yes.
It seems highly improbable that Anne Walker would choose to visit her family home under these circumstances, November said. If detected by the Council, she would face a significant risk of being traced and overwhelmed. All tactical considerations would push her toward remaining in her new shadow realm.
You see the future through probability distributions, I told November. I see that too, but I also see choice. And Anne’s been thinking about coming here all evening.
What’s the probability that she will?
It’s not that simple, I said across the link. I’ve been watching the futures for hours, and they keep shifting. If it was just her making up her mind, it wouldn’t look like this. Something’s affecting her ability to make the decision.
But her arrival is still a possibility?
Yes.
Then you really should not be standing there, November said bluntly. If Anne Walker gates to your vicinity, you will be in extreme danger. Even were I to immediately raise the alarm, it would take a minimum of three to five minutes before any reinforcements could reach your position. The probability of your capture or death would be high.
Sounds accurate.
Then forgive me for asking, but why are you exposing yourself like this?
I sighed, resting my head against the tree. Because it feels like this might be my last chance to talk to her.
That isn’t a very good answer.
I suppose it isn’t.
Given Anne Walker’s recent history, any attempt at negotiation would be highly dangerous without access to close and overwhelming force in the event of an attack. I strongly advise that you bring in support.
If I bring in other mages, Anne will spot them a mile off and won’t come anywhere near.
It seems to me that her not coming anywhere near would be altogether the best outcome.
I was silent. I didn’t have a comeback, and I wasn’t willing to leave.
Well, November said at last. If you insist on staying, I’ll monitor as well as I can. But I must once again urge you to reconsider.
Thanks.
I stayed there as the sky above faded from purple to black. The futures shifted and jumped, but the ones in which Anne arrived kept shrinking, the possibilities dwindling and petering out until the futures in which she appeared on the street were only a blank void.
I stared across the street. The lights in the house were on, on both the ground and first floors. Anne and I had gone there for dinner a couple of months ago. It had been my first time meeting her family, and once had been enough. If Anne hadn’t been struggling with the after-effects of a childhood like that . . .
A wave of anger rose up inside me. I thought about crossing that street, kicking the door down, and picking up those foster parents and slamming them into a wall so that I could shout into their faces do you know what you’ve done? It was more tempting than it should have been. Who was going to stop me?
Anne’s foster family hadn’t been dark tyrants like Richard, or sadistic monsters like Vihaela, or cold manipulators like Levistus. They’d just been selfish and petty. But having to grow up in a family like that, being treated for years and years as though she didn’t matter, had damaged Anne just as surely as any of the enemies we’d fought, and it had been a kind of damage her magic couldn’t heal. It had left cracks in her mind, cracks into which Sagash and Jagadev and Richard had driven wedges, splitting her personality into light and dark. And it had been that split that the marid had taken advantage of to possess her.
The people in that house really did deserve to pay for that.
I let out a long breath, taking my anger and resentment and setting it aside. Going after Anne’s foster family wouldn’t do anyone any good, not now. Still, a thought lingered. Anne had considered coming here – probably would have, if something hadn’t stopped her. She’d wanted to go back to her beginnings. Maybe I needed to do the same.
The futures were silent and still. I turned and left.
‘. . . throughout the realm’s boundaries,’ Karyos said. ‘The creatures of the Hollow will warn me the moment Anne sets foot in this shadow realm. But that may be too late.’
‘You can’t figure out any way to deactivate Anne’s key specifically?’ I asked.
Karyos shook her head. ‘My magic is of growth and life. I have little understanding of the wards you and your friends created. I could pull them down, but . . .’
‘But then Anne could just walk in anyway,’ I finished. ‘Along with anyone else.’
Night had fallen in the Hollow, and Karyos and I were standing in the doorway to my cottage. Karyos was barely visible, a slight, starlit figure blending in with the trees and grass. In the shadows, the hamadryad’s golden skin and bark-like hair were hidden to the point that you could have mistaken her for a young girl.