‘I am sorry I cannot do more,’ Karyos said.
‘Not your fault,’ I said. ‘We spent weeks setting up these wards. Can’t expect to find a way to shut her out this fast.’
‘Will she come again?’
‘Not in any of the futures I can see,’ I said. ‘Her number one reason for coming here was Luna, and we’ve moved Luna out. Also, right now, she’s probably got as many prisoners as she can handle.’ I paused, looking at Karyos. ‘But if she does come back, I’ll be ready. I won’t let her walk in here like that again.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Can you do me a favour?’ I asked. ‘That meditation technique you use, calling back old memories? Could you try to remember everything you can about jinn? Especially anything that might tally with what Richard said in the negotiations.’
Karyos nodded. ‘Very well.’
I stepped into my cottage and shut the door.
I walked to my desk, then carefully slipped the copper headband up over my hair and laid it down on the wooden surface, well away from everything else. I could feel the item’s spirit, restless and swirling; it didn’t want to be put down. I stood there for a few minutes, maintaining the connection, harmonising it until the item had quieted, before I finally took my hands away. Next I removed my armour, the plate-and-mesh coming off my limbs and body one piece at a time. It’s heavier these days than it used to be. The armour’s been damaged many times over the years, and each time the broken plates and material have grown back thicker. My armour’s more willing than the headband to be taken off, but I still had to take some time reassuring it that I wouldn’t be in danger overnight. Once I was done, I glanced at the sovnya leaning in the corner. The polearm was the easiest of the three to put down, but the hardest to wield – it wanted to kill, and every second that it was in my hands, I could feel its bloodlust. Karyos had told me to take it out of her shadow realm, but I didn’t have anywhere else to put it and I didn’t trust it to be out of my sight. For now at least, it seemed stable.
Imbued items are dangerous. Wielding one is less like using a tool, and more like riding a very powerful, half-trained animal – you can influence the item, but it can influence you right back. Most mages will only use imbued items when they absolutely have to. Wielding two at once is much harder than using one – the items fight with both their wielder and each other, pulling in different directions. I’d been using three.
It was only the dreamstone and Arachne’s training that let me do it. With my experience of Elsewhere, I could stabilise the links between myself and the items, riding the waves of their desires. The armour pushed me to be guarded and safe; the headband wanted to be high up and watchful and always on the move; the sovnya wanted to attack and kill. Instead of fighting the urges, I’d cycled between them, allowing each of the items free rein when the time was right, and playing them off against each other when it wasn’t. But keeping it up was a strain, and right now I felt like I’d been carrying heavy weights all day.
There were other weights, though, that I couldn’t put down.
The Hollow was still and quiet. Karyos had retreated back to her tree, and to her strange dryad form of sleep. Luna was far away, hiding in a place where Anne couldn’t find her. The night was mine alone. I stepped out of my cottage and closed the door.
Out in the night, under the stars, I could breathe more easily. I’ve always liked the darkness, ever since I was a child. In the shadows, when all is empty and quiet, life seems to slow down to a calmer pace. There’s time to think.
I walked the paths of the Hollow, slipping between the trees. The birds in the branches above were sleeping, heads tucked beneath their wings. The only movement was the rustle of the leaves in the breeze, and the occasional skitter of a night-time creature. As I drew closer to the Hollow’s north side, I came to a small rise, rocks and grassy earth forming a hillock ten feet tall. A pair of amber eyes gleamed from above.
‘Hey, Hermes,’ I said. I climbed the hillock, my steps quick and sure. The blink fox had been sprawled on a flat patch of rock at the top of the rise, lying on his side with his chin hanging over the edge. As I climbed up next to him, he rolled onto his belly and looked up at me.
‘How are you doing?’ I said.
Blink.
With a sigh I sat down next to the fox. ‘So how was your day?’
Hermes yawned, shutting his mouth with a snap of teeth.
‘Wish I could trade.’ I looked past Hermes into the darkness. ‘We’re going to be launching an invasion tomorrow. Sagash’s shadow realm. Well, I guess we should call it Anne’s shadow realm now. Same place I met you, come to think of it.’
Hermes tilted his head.
‘I’m not sure how many people are going to be coming back. Anne and the jinn are one thing. But then there’s the Council to worry about as well, and Richard’s cabal. All three of those groups hate each other. It’s pretty much a guarantee that things are going to go wrong.’
Hermes seemed to consider that, then gave what could have been a shrug.
‘I know, not your problem. But it is mine. I have to somehow figure out all of the ways in which this can go to hell, and stop them from happening, and also hold everything together long enough to make this work. And if I don’t, then it’s all going to fall apart, because there isn’t anyone else. All the people I’ve got on my side, they’re good at what they do, but there’s no one else who can do what I can.’
Hermes blinked.
‘It was never like this before,’ I said. ‘There always used to be someone above me. First it was Richard, then it was Helikaon. Then for the longest time it was Arachne. I mean, I had people depending on me. But if it was ever too much, I had someone I could go to. I can’t do that any more. There’s no one above me, not even the Council. I make a mistake, it’s just me.’ I was silent for a moment. ‘You know, when I was dealing with Ji-yeong today, I was acting a role. But it’s starting to feel like I have to do the same with everyone. If Luna and Karyos have problems, they expect me to have answers and sound like I know what I’m doing. Because if I don’t, they’ll think “Oh crap, if he’s worried things must be really bad.” I wonder if that was how it was for Arachne? She was so powerful, but always alone. And when I’d come to see her, it’d usually be because I needed her help.’ I smiled as I remembered those visits, sitting amid the sofas and the rolls of silk. ‘God, I must have been so annoying. Every couple of months, I’d be bringing her some new problem. Usually something that was my own fault, too. And I’d expect her to be wise and patient and tell me how to fix it. And she would.’ I stared into the darkness, my smile fading. ‘She never talked about her own problems. Even right at the end, when she knew what was coming. I used to wonder why. I think I understand a little better now. She didn’t talk about herself because she really didn’t have anyone she could talk to. And now it’s the same for me.’
Hermes yawned again.
I laughed and looked down. ‘Except you. I can lay all this stuff on you and it won’t bother you at all, because you really don’t care. Because you’re a fox.’
Hermes blinked.
‘Today was her birthday,’ I said. ‘September seventh. She just turned twenty-seven. Remember the party we did for her last year? Me and you and Luna and Vari? The war was heating up so we couldn’t do much. Still made her happy. Didn’t realise it was going to be the last time.’ I was silent for a moment. ‘I thought about leaving her a birthday card. Even planned out how I’d do it. Put it in an envelope, leave it with a beacon marker somewhere in the castle courtyard so she’d find it once we were gone. Was a stupid idea. Would have had to fight through those jann to get there, then fight my way out again. Risking my life for nothing. But a bit of me still wishes I’d done it.’