‘Maybe some of them,’ Alex says. ‘But think about how many people lost friends or relatives because of what we did. We go back, and even if the Council stick strictly to the terms of that truce – and that’s a big if – we’ll be getting assassination attempts for the rest of our lives. Any place we go will be a potential war zone; any cause we join will be suspect because we’re associated with it.’ He shakes his head. ‘I can’t see any path where it’s a good idea for us to go back. And even in the ones where it’s the least bad option, we’d have to wait years. No, I think we’re going to be in exile for a long time.’
I sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
I wait while Alex gathers up his things and puts on his top. ‘There’s one other reason,’ he says as he picks up his staff.
‘What?’
Alex starts walking, keeping to a slow pace, and I fall in beside him. ‘Those moves I was working through?’ he tells me as we walk. ‘It’s the staff form of a martial art called carë.’ He pronounces it kah-reh. ‘Its last living practitioner died around two thousand years ago. There are no records left of the style.’
I look at Alex with a frown, waiting for him to go on. He doesn’t. ‘Then how—?’
‘I remember it,’ Alex says simply.
I stare at him for a second, then I get it.
‘The fateweaver,’ Alex says with a nod. ‘Other things too. I’ve been having dreams. Battles I was never part of, cities I’ve never seen. They’re patchy, like memories from when you’re very young.’
‘You’re remembering things the fateweaver saw.’
‘When I realised that, I started thinking,’ Alex says. ‘And I kept coming back to that conversation we had. The night in Sagash’s shadow realm, before the battle. You remember what you told me, about how I’d changed?’
I nod.
‘Well, I kept turning it over,’ Alex says. We’re coming up to the path; he stops and leans against a tree. ‘And the more I thought about it, the more I had to admit that you were right. Now, some of it I could put down to Anne and the Council and losing my hand, but when I thought back, the point at which I really started acting differently was when I took up the fateweaver.’ Alex looks at me. ‘Imbued items are made for a purpose. My mist cloak was built to hide its wearer. The sovnya was made to kill magical creatures. My armour’s meant to protect. The fateweaver? It was made as a tool for generals. To win battles.’
‘But it was you making those decisions, not the fateweaver.’
‘Oh, I made the decisions,’ Alex says. ‘But after you’ve decided what to do, you still have to figure out how to do it. And if you’ve got an imbued item that’s really good at solving problems one particular way . . . well, don’t you think it’s a funny coincidence that right after I bond to an imbued item built for war, I start facing and killing my enemies on the battlefield? And less than a month after that, I’m commanding an army?’
I look at him.
Alex shakes his head. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not going to take me over. The fateweaver was made as a tool. It’s not bloodthirsty like the sovnya. But . . .’ He looks past me, into the distance. ‘Between the two of us, I think Anne might be the less dangerous one now. If I ended up taking power again, I’d still care about right and wrong, but there’d be nothing to soften the edge any more. Justice without mercy.’
‘So what, you’re staying away just to be on the safe side?’
Alex grins, and all of a sudden he looks like he did in the old days, back when his biggest worries were me and his shop. ‘Probably best not to take the risk.’
We walk out onto the path, and I think about asking Alex the question that I’ve been wanting to ask, the one that’s been hovering at the back of my mind. Was it worth it? The people we lost – Sonder, Arachne, Caldera, Ilmarin, all of those soldiers and adepts who fought and died. Did it count for anything?
But I know it’s unfair. Every one of us who fought in that war played a part in how things turned out. Alex was at the centre, but he wasn’t behind it. And most of the ones who were behind it are dead or gone. Maybe we’ve earned some rest.
Instead, as the house comes into view, I ask the important thing. ‘Alex? Are you happy?’
Up ahead, the door opens. Anne steps out and turns to wave.
Alex waves back, and as he does his face softens in a smile. It’s not the kind of smile he had when we first met; it’s fuller, purer. He looks down at me to answer, but I already know what he’s going to say. ‘Yes.’
Looking at his face, I’m not worried any more. I’m glad I came today.
The war is over, but our stories are just beginning. The afternoon sun shines down out of a clear sky.
We walk together down the hill, to where Anne and Hermes are waiting.
Author’s Note
In 2008, I started work on a novel. It was my tenth; out of the previous nine, seven had been rejected by every publisher that saw them, while the last two had been published but failed to sell. So when I sat down to write the first words of what would eventually become Fated, my hopes weren’t high. The last thing I was expecting was for it to turn into a series.
But it did, and the first three sold well enough that my publishers were interested in more. I wrote a fourth Alex Verus novel, then a fifth. My contracts were extended, then extended again. Year by year, and step by step, and somewhere along the way, without ever noticing exactly when, I went from being a failed author to a successful one. And now it’s almost nine years since Fated’s release, and for the first time in my life, I’m going to see a series I started be published all the way to its end.
None of this would have been possible without my readers, so my biggest reason for writing this Author’s Note is to say a thank you to everyone who’s been buying and reading my books. If not for you, the Alex Verus series would probably never have existed, and without your continued support, it could never have been finished.
Ever since I announced that book twelve would be the last, I’ve had people asking if I could keep the series going. I’ve always had to say no, and now that you’ve read this book, you can hopefully understand why. I’ve never liked it when a series goes on and on for ever, and I’d much rather leave Alex at the end of Risen, in the woods with Anne. There’s probably room for more stories in the Alex Verus setting, but Alex’s one is over. Besides, after everything that’s happened, I think he’s earned a happy ending.
Instead, I’d much rather move on to something new! Since mid-2020 I’ve been putting together ideas for a new urban fantasy series, one with some similarities to the Alex Verus setting but a lot of differences too. If all goes to plan, I’ll start writing it this year, and the first book will come out in 2022 or 2023.
But that’s all in the future. For now, thank you to all of you who’ve followed Alex on his journey. I wish you the best of luck with your own.
Benedict Jacka, January 2021
about the author
Benedict Jacka became a writer almost by accident, when at nineteen he sat in his school library and started a story in the back of an exercise book. Since then he has studied philosophy at Cambridge, lived in China and worked as everything from civil servant to bouncer to teacher before returning to London to take up law.
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