“If you have a prior engagement I’m sure we-”
“No, we couldn’t. Because the second problem is that you’ve been reading my thoughts ever since you sat down.”
Crystal went very still. “I’m afraid I don’t follow,” she said at last.
“Oh, you were very subtle,” I said. “I’d guess most mages wouldn’t even notice.”
Crystal didn’t move, and I saw the futures whirl. Flight, combat, threats. “Relax,” I said. “If I was going to start a fight I wouldn’t have told you about it.”
The futures kept shifting a moment longer, then settled. “I’m sorry,” Crystal said. She brushed back her hair, looking remorseful. “I shouldn’t, I know. I was just so worried you’d say no.” She met my eyes, entreating. “We need someone as skilled as you. Please, won’t you help?”
I looked back at Crystal for a long second. “No,” I said at last. “I won’t. Good-bye, Crystal.”
Again the smile vanished from Crystal’s face, and this time it didn’t come back. She watched me without expression for a long moment, then rose in a single motion and stalked away, heels clicking on the floor.
I’d known Crystal was a mind mage, but even so I hadn’t noticed her spell. Active mind magic like suggestion is easy to spot if you know what to look for, but a mage who’s good with passive senses, reading the thoughts that others broadcast, is much harder to catch. The only thing that had tipped me off was that Crystal had been too neat. In a real conversation no one tells you exactly what you want to hear.
That last reaction had made me wonder, too. In between her magic and her looks, it occurred to me that Crystal probably wasn’t very used to not getting her own way. I’d better be careful around her if we met again.
I noticed suddenly that everyone in the shop was watching me. For a moment I wondered why, then smiled to myself as I realised what it must have looked like. I left my drink on the table and ran the gauntlet of stares as I walked down to the ground floor and out into the London streets.
I never used to get offers like these. A year ago I could go weeks at a time without seeing another mage. In magical society I was an unknown, and all in all that was how I liked it.
It’s hard to say what changed. I used to think it was because of that business with the fateweaver, but looking back, I get the feeling it was more to do with me. Maybe I was just tired of being alone. Whatever it was, I got involved in the magical world again and started getting myself a reputation.
Although not necessarily a good reputation. I got the fateweaver against some stiff competition, making a couple of very powerful enemies in the process, one of which came back to bite me five months later. A Light battle-mage named Belthas was trying to get sole ownership of a very nasty ritual, and when I tried to stop him it came down to a fight. When the dust settled, Belthas was gone.
That was the point at which other mages started to take notice. Belthas had been good-really good, one of the most dangerous battle-mages in the country-and all of a sudden a lot of people were paying attention to me. After all, if I’d been able to defeat someone like Belthas, I’d be a useful tool to have on their side. And if I wasn’t on their side. . well, they might have to consider doing something about that.
All of a sudden, I had to play politics. Take a job, and I’d be associated with whoever I worked for. Turn one down, and I’d risk causing offence. Not all the job offers were nice, either. More than one Dark mage figured that since I’d knocked off one Light mage I might be willing to do a few more, and let me tell you, those kinds of people do not take rejection well.
But I’m not completely new to politics, either. My apprenticeship was to a Dark mage named Richard Drakh, in an environment where trust was suicide and competition was quite literally a matter of life and death. It’s left me with some major issues with relationships, but as a primer on power and manipulation it’s hard to beat. Crystal hadn’t been the first to try to take advantage of me-and she hadn’t been the first to get a surprise.
But right now I didn’t feel like dealing with that. I put Crystal out of my mind and went to go find my apprentice.
Mages don’t have a single base of operations-there’s no central headquarters or anything like that. Instead the Council owns a selection of properties around England that they make use of on a rotating basis. This one was an old gym in Islington, a blocky building of fading red bricks tucked away down a backstreet. The man at the front desk glanced up as I walked in and gave me a nod. “Hey, Mr. Verus. Looking for the students?”
“Yep. And the guy waiting for me.”
“Oh. Uh, I’m not supposed to talk about-”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks.” I opened the door, closed it behind me, and looked at the man leaning against the corridor wall. “You know, for someone who’s not a diviner, you seem to know an awful lot about where to find me.”
Talisid is middle-aged with a receding hairline, and every time I’ve seen him he always seems to be wearing the same nondescript-looking suit. If you added a pair of glasses he’d look like a maths teacher, or maybe an accountant. He doesn’t look like much at first glance, but there’s something in his eyes that suggests he might be more than he seems.
I’ve never known exactly what to make of Talisid. He’s involved with a high-up faction of the Council, but what game they’re playing I don’t know. “Verus,” Talisid said with a nod. “Do you have a minute?”
I began walking towards the doors at the end of the hall. Talisid fell in beside me. “Since you’re here,” I said, “I’m guessing I’m either in trouble or about to get that way.”
Talisid shook his head. “Has anybody ever told you you’re a remarkably cynical person?”
“I like to think of it as learning from experience.”
“I’ve never forced you to accept a job.”
“I know.”
The doors opened into a stairwell. Narrow rays of sun were streaming down through slit windows of frosted glass, catching motes of dust floating in the air. They lit us up as we climbed, placing us in alternating light and shadow. “Okay,” I said. “Hit me.”
“The task I’d like your help with is likely to be difficult and dangerous,” Talisid said. “It’s also covered by strict Council secrecy. You may not tell anyone the details, or even that you’re working for us.”
I looked over my shoulder with a frown. “Why all the secrecy?”
“You’ll understand once you hear the details. Whether to take the assignment is up to you, but confidentiality is not.”
I thought for a second. “What about Luna?”
“The Council would prefer to limit the number of people in the know as far as possible,” Talisid said. “However, due to the. . nature of the problem I believe your apprentice might be of some help.” Talisid paused. “She would also be in greater danger.”
We reached the top floor and stopped at the doors to the hall. “I’ll be down the corridor,” Talisid said. “Once you’ve decided, come speak to me.”
“Not coming in?”
Talisid shook his head. “The fewer people that know of my involvement, the better. I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”
I watched Talisid go with a frown. I’ve done jobs for Talisid before, and while they’d generally been successful, they hadn’t been safe. In fact, they’d been decidedly unsafe. If he was calling the job “difficult and dangerous”. . I turned and pushed the doors open.
The top hall had once been a boxing gym. Chains hung from the ceiling, but the heavy bags had been removed and so had the ring at the centre. Mats covered the floor and light trickled in from windows high above. Two blocky ceramic constructions were set up at either end of the hall, ten feet tall and looking exactly like a pair of giant tuning forks.
Inside the room were five students and one teacher. Three of the students were against the far walclass="underline" a small round-faced Asian girl, a blond-haired boy with glasses, and an Indian boy with dark skin and the khaki turban of a Sikh who was keeping a noticeable distance from the first two. All looked about twenty or so. I didn’t know their names but had seen them around enough times to recognise them as seniors in the apprentice program.