Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) (118 page)

Luna nodded. Once upon a time she would have pushed to come in with me but she's had enough experience with Cinder and Deleo to know that they are not people you want to mess with. “Do you think they'll try anything?”

“I wish I knew,” I said. “If they do, run like hell and we'll meet back at the shop.”

* * *

T
he inside of the brewery was wide and dark, brick walls painted white and square pillars running from the ceiling down to the concrete floor. The ground floor was empty, but glass fronting along the far side gave a view out onto a shopping street dotted with people. Cinder and Deleo wouldn't be here: too conspicuous. I took the fire stairs up.

The second floor was made up of a main hall twice the size of a basketball court, double doors along the sides opening onto ramps which led down into other areas. The pillars were still here, surrounded with wood and metal display stands, currently empty. The roof rose and fell in peaks, corrugated metal framing frosted glass windows looking up into the black sky, and fluorescent lights hung dark and still. The building was empty and I settled down to wait.

Rachel kept me waiting almost forty-five minutes. It was on purpose; Rachel knows what I can do and she knew that as long as I could see they were coming I wouldn't give up and leave. It was just a way of annoying me, and I rested my back against one of the pillars and made myself relax. The old brewery had the vaguely eerie feeling that all large public places have after dark, echoing and silent and empty.

When Rachel and Cinder finally showed up it was at the other end of the brewery, opening a gate into a sealed area out of my sight. I'd already picked my location—the open double doors connecting the main hall and a side hall—and as they arrived I took two gold discs from my pocket, laying them to the right and left of the doorway. The discs were a one-shot item that would create a wall of force, blocking the doorway with a near-impenetrable barrier. When you're dealing with mages it's a good idea to take precautions. I stood two steps back from the doorway inside the smaller hall and waited. After a few minutes I heard footsteps echoing around the big hall ahead, boots ringing on concrete. Green-red light began to flicker around the pillars; it brightened as the footsteps grew louder, and Cinder and Rachel came striding around the corner.

Cinder and Rachel work together and they're both scary as hell, though in very different ways. Cinder is big, as tall as me and much more muscular, with the build of a boxer or a wrestler. His eyes flicked from side to side, passing over me quickly and watching for threats. Rachel was looking straight at me before she even came around the corner, her eyes locked onto mine. She'd grown her hair out since the last time I'd seen her and she moved smoothly, with no trace of injury from her old battles. Rachel's quite beautiful, but she hides the top half of her face behind a mask, black silk showing only her blue eyes. Both she and Cinder had light spells active; Cinder's was a flame-red orb flickering at his hands, while Rachel's wavered between blue and sea-green and hovered at her shoulder. They came to a stop thirty feet away.

The first rule of dealing with Dark mages is that you don't show fear. Both Cinder and Rachel are terrifyingly powerful, far more powerful than I am, and I know my chances of taking either of them in a straight-up fight are just about zero. My instinct on seeing them was to turn and run. Instead I stood with arms folded and told them, “You're late.”

“Deal with it,” Cinder said in his rumbling voice.

“You can use gate spells,” I pointed out. “You can literally cross the world in under a minute. How is it possible for you to be late?”

“Why are you here?” Rachel said. She hadn't stopped staring at me.

Rachel scares me. It's not just that she's willing and able to disintegrate me into a pile of dust; it's that she's insane. Back when I knew her as an apprentice she was pretty and thoughtful, always sticking close to Shireen, but something happened to her after I left and when I saw her again last year she was very different from the girl I'd once known. As I looked into the future Rachel's actions were jagged; shifting and unpredictable. Cinder's stance was watchful, but I couldn't see any futures in which he attacked me; he wasn't going to start a fight without a reason. Rachel might. Futures in which we stood and talked mixed with flickers of chaos and violence, and the hell of it was I had no idea what would set her off. “I'm looking for someone,” I said. “I think you might be able to help.”

“Don't waste my time,” Rachel said. There was an edge to her voice; Rachel and I never really got on but ever since I met her again last year she's hated me and I don't know why. “What do you know?”

“There's a . . . potential threat,” I said. “Right now it's not an active danger to either of you, but before long it's going to be. Tell me where to find the person I'm looking for, and I'll give you warning.”

“A warning,” Rachel said with contempt. “That's all you have?”

“It's something that matters to you.”

Rachel stepped forward. The light at her shoulder deepened to a dark sea-green, and I felt the futures of violence fork and multiply. “You sold me to Belthas,” she said in a low, dangerous voice.

I wanted to back away but forced myself to stand still. “You got me captured by Morden,” I said, keeping my voice level. “Your construct nearly strangled me, you tried to abduct my apprentice, and you've threatened to kill me more times than I can count. Don't give me the self-righteous act.”

Rachel stared at me and inwardly I tensed. If she struck I'd have to move very fast. Then Rachel's eyes cleared and the futures were suddenly peaceful again. “Try it again,” she said, “and I'll kill you.”

“Again with the threatening to kill me,” I said. “Look, will you just listen for thirty seconds? If you can't help me, you can say so and we can both stop wasting each other's time.”

Cinder's lips twitched as though he wanted to grin. Rachel's eyes bored into me for a long moment, then she looked to her left. “Get on with it.”

“I want to find out what happened to that girl Richard was holding,” I said. “Catherine Traviss.”

Rachel's head snapped around to stare at me and she went utterly still. “You were still free to move around back then,” I said. “What happened to her after I—?”

“She sent you, didn't she?” Rachel whispered.

“What? Who?”

“Get out.”

I opened my mouth to answer . . . and my precognition screamed a warning. Rachel was standing tense, frozen, but if I spoke a single word she was going to come at me with all her power and do her absolute best to kill me. “Get out,” Rachel whispered again.

I began to back away. “Del,” Cinder rumbled, looking suddenly uneasy.

“Get out.” Rachel's voice rose suddenly to a scream, echoing in the empty building. “Get out. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET—”

I didn't quite run but I got as close as I could to it without turning my back. I could feel the futures of violence spreading, getting closer, and the only way out was away. I had one last glimpse of Rachel, fists clenched and her face white with rage, then I put a wall between us and turned and ran.

Rachel and Cinder didn't follow. Searching back with my magic I could catch murmurs of conversation, Cinder's deep voice mixing with fragments from Rachel. Footsteps sounded, and I knew they were leaving. I kept my distance until I felt the flicker of gate magic from the other side of the building and I knew Rachel was gone.

Once my heart had stopped pounding I retraced my steps to the doorway where I'd met the two of them. The gold discs of the forcewall were untouched and I picked them up, slipping them into my trouser pocket. What the hell had
that
been about?

Something flickered on my precognition and I knew Cinder was coming back. I thought of withdrawing but my line of retreat was clear, and looking into the future I saw that the futures of combat were gone. I stood in the doorway and waited until Cinder appeared in the gloom, the red light still flickering at his hand. “So,” I said. “I'm guessing Deleo doesn't want another chat.”

I haven't known Cinder as long as I've known Rachel, but I get on a lot better with him than I do with her. We teamed up a couple of times last year, and while we're not exactly friends we do have a kind of working relationship. Cinder shook his head, his brow furrowed. “What the hell set her off?” I asked.

“Del's . . . got stuff,” Cinder said. His voice wasn't friendly but it wasn't hostile either, and I knew that was the closest he was going to get to an apology.

“No kidding. I'm not going to be ringing her up any time soon if that's what you're asking.”

Cinder hesitated. “Who was she?”

I looked at him in surprise. “Catherine?”

Cinder gave a nod. “Someone Deleo and I . . . treated badly,” I said. “I lost track of her when I left. Deleo never mentioned her?”

“She doesn't talk about back then,” Cinder said.

I looked away. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess I can understand that.”

We stood in silence for a little while. “Del's got something to do,” Cinder said at last. “You want to stay away till she's done.”

I looked at Cinder, then nodded. Cinder withdrew, keeping an eye on me, and his light faded away around the corner and disappeared. I stood in the darkness for a while then left.

* * *

I
t was after midnight when Luna and I got back. Anne and Variam reported that all had been quiet, and once we were assembled in the living room I told them the story.

“Do you think there's any way to persuade her?” Anne asked once I was finished.

“No,” Luna said, shaking her head very definitely. “You've never met this woman. She does
not
do compromises.”

“So now what?” Variam asked.

“I don't know,” I said. “I guess I could try digging around but I think it'd just end up the same way. The only answers to what happened back then are inside Rachel's head.”

“What about Sonder?” Anne asked.

I grimaced. “Right now I'm not sure Sonder wants to be around me. And ten years is a hell of a gap, even for someone as good as he is.”

“You're going to the mansion tomorrow, right?” Variam said.

“That's about the only angle I can see that's left. And honestly, I'm not expecting much. What's there going to be after all this time?”

We sat in silence for a little while. “Do you think it's time to give up on this whole finding-Catherine thing?” Luna asked.

“But then what else is there to try?” Anne asked. “It's the best chance of settling this peacefully.”

Variam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“No, Anne's right,” I said. “I want to do this. I just can't see how.”

Luna had been looking down at the coffee table, but now she shrugged and raised her eyes to look at me. “Well, I can think of
one
way.”

I looked at her and then flinched. “Oh, you're kidding.”

“You said it,” Luna pointed out. “The only answers are inside Rachel's head.”

Variam looked between us. “What are you talking about?”

* * *

“S
o let me get this straight,” Variam said twenty minutes later. “You're going to some kind of freaky dream-place to get the information out of Rachel while she's asleep?”

“More or less,” I said, taking off my shoes.

“You can see people's memories in Elsewhere,” Luna said. She didn't mention how she knew.

“So just out of curiosity,” Variam said, “how's Miss Psycho Bitch going to react if she catches you going through her head?”

“I'm going to guess ‘badly,'” I said as I slid my shoes under my bed. “Let's hope she doesn't notice.”

“Should I come?” Luna asked.

I shook my head. “One can hide better than two. Besides, I need someone to keep watch. Will's lot know where I live, and I still don't trust them not to try some sort of night raid.”

“I'll do it,” Anne volunteered. “I can stay awake.”

“Is it good for you to keep doing that?”

“I slept last night,” Anne pointed out. “Besides, I can spot them before anyone else.”

“Wake me up at dawn,” Variam said. “I'll take watch and you can get a few hours.”

Luna yawned. “Fair enough. Night.”

Luna and Variam squabbled briefly over the bathroom before going to bed, Luna withdrawing to the spare room while Variam set up the camp bed in the corner of the living room and fell asleep almost instantly. Anne curled up on the living room sofa with a book, the faint light of the lamp making her bare arms and neck glow softly in the darkness. I pulled the connecting door most of the way shut and hung up my coat before lying down on my bed with a sigh. It was too hot to sleep fully clothed but I was too tired to undress, so I pulled off my socks and left it at that. The clock by my bed read 12:48 and I watched it for a while as I listened to the sounds fade away. With Anne and Luna and Variam all here my flat felt lived-in and cosy, alert and alive. The day's work on top of the last traces of fatigue from my injury had tired me more than I realised, and in only minutes my eyes drifted closed. As I did I reached out with my mind, searching for a place I'd been to before, a place to which I'd return again. Sleep came.

chapter
7

I
opened my eyes.

I was standing in my bedroom, and I was alone. White light streamed through the windows, mixing with the ambient glow of the walls and ceiling and floor. There were no shadows; everything was bright and clear. Through the windows I could see the buildings and towers of a great empty city. There were hints of London in the architecture but it was different, vaster, the streets wider and the buildings huge and open. Beyond the buildings was empty sky.

I walked through my flat, down the stairs, and out of the shop. My front door opened out into a long avenue stretching off into the distance, torches mounted along either side burning with yellow flames, and I began walking forward. Without looking I knew the route back to my flat would have disappeared. It didn't matter; here in Elsewhere, one place was as good as another.

I turned off the avenue and into one of the buildings, passing through the hallway and out onto a narrower street. Elsewhere felt different from the last time I'd been here. In the past the city had always been silent, empty of movement and growth. This time as I walked I kept noticing life: trees planted in rows and growing in gardens, birds gliding overhead. As I turned one corner I saw a fox trotting quickly across the road ahead of me. It stopped and looked at me, then kept going, disappearing into an alleyway. I could hear a very faint murmur of sound at the edge of my hearing, not the hum of a real city, but what might have been an echo of one. The street I was on ended in a medium-sized square, buildings on three sides and an arcade on the fourth marking the boundary with a wide plaza. I found a stone bench under a tree and sat down.

I've never really understood how Elsewhere works. In my early visits I tried to figure out the rules, and every time I ended up making things worse. Intuition seems to work better than reason here; the more times I've come the more I've learnt to trust my instincts. Right now my instincts told me that if I stayed here long enough, the person I needed would find me. So I sat, and waited.

I heard her before I saw her: footsteps echoing off the stone from the direction of the plaza. Looking up I saw her walking through the columns of the arcade, small and athletic, short dark-red hair and a quick smile. “Hey, Alex,” Shireen said. “Wondered when you'd come.”

Shireen looked different from how I'd seen her in the dream. Physically she was almost the same, but her manner was easier—back when we'd both been apprentices Shireen had always been full of energy but there'd been a tension there, a temper. Now she seemed relaxed. “Hey,” I said.

“So.” Shireen dropped down on the bench next to me. “How's things?”

“Don't take this the wrong way,” I said. “But before we get started on this, there's something I'd like to know. What exactly are you?”

Shireen didn't look insulted—more like amused. “What do you think I am?”

“You look like Shireen and you sound like Shireen,” I said. “But Shireen died ten years ago. It's like you're a picture of how she was the last time I saw her. How are you still here?”

Shireen's smile faded, and she studied me for a moment. “I'm an afterimage,” she said at last. “A picture when the original is gone. But I can see and I can feel and I can remember. I know what you're looking for.”

“Catherine,” I said.

Shireen nodded. “I can show you what happened to her.”

“Any chance you can skip ahead and give me the short version?”

“No.” Shireen sounded quite definite. “I've helped you before and I'll help you now, but this time I want something back. I'll show you what happened to Catherine and where she is, but only if you see the whole story.”

“Which story?”

“Rachel's,” Shireen said. “What happened to Catherine, how Richard disappeared, why I'm talking to you now. It all comes back to her and it's time you understood why. Don't forget—if it wasn't for me you would have been lost last year. You owe me.”

I looked at Shireen for a moment. “That's all you want?” I said at last. “For me to know the story?”

“That's part of it,” Shireen said. “There's one more thing, but I won't ask until you've seen what really happened ten years ago. The parts you
weren't
there for.”

“I can't promise I'll say yes to that. Not without knowing what it is.”

“I understand.”

I stood in silence for a little while. “How are you going to show me this?”

“Rachel's memories,” Shireen said. “You'll see what she saw.”

I frowned at that. I've walked through my own memories in Elsewhere, watching the events unfold as if they were happening all over again, but never someone else's. No one knows much about Elsewhere, but if there's one thing they agree on, it's that you shape it yourself. “How can you do that?”

“You'll know once you've seen it,” Shireen said. “I know I keep saying that, but it's true.” She grinned suddenly. “Come on. Aren't you curious?”

I gave Shireen a narrow look, then looked away, out through the arcade to the white stone of the plaza. Around us the city was quiet, waiting. I turned back. “Let's do it.”

Shireen nodded and held out her hand, palm up. “Hold on tight.”

I took her hand, and—

* * *

I
was standing on a grassy slope, green trees scattered around and rhododendrons flowering to either side. I was in what was either quite a small park or a very large garden, and it looked well kept and tended. I could see glimpses of a wall surrounding the greenery, and just visible over the trees behind was a big white-painted house. The sky was overcast but light, the sun glowing through the clouds. It looked almost natural, but something about it was just slightly off.

At the bottom of the slope was a pond. There was a willow tree leaning over it, and under the willow was a girl, fifteen or sixteen years old and dressed neatly in blue and white. She was sitting cross-legged by the pond, looking down at the water with her face set in concentration. I was standing in plain view, but she didn't seem to notice me. Hesitantly I moved, then when she didn't react I came closer.

The girl was Rachel, but it took me a moment before I was sure that it was really her; she looked very different from the woman she would grow into. In Richard's mansion Rachel had been pretty but elusive, rarely showing what she was thinking. When I'd met her again last year, that ambivalence had hardened into a diamond mask that showed nothing of what might be behind it. But here, as she stared down at the water, there was an openness which I'd only seen hints of when we'd first met, something soft and unformed.

Rachel's eyes were still fixed on the pond, and as she stared at it the surface rippled. She extended a hand, soft blue light starting to flicker at her palm, and as she did a droplet of water rose from the pond's surface to hover at her fingertips. The light brightened and another droplet rose, then another, a thin stream of water flowing upwards to gather in a floating orb. Carefully Rachel raised her hand and the orb rose with it, wobbling as it did, droplets breaking off to hover for a few moments before melding together again. Rachel's movements were slow and careful, and there was a strange dreamlike look to her eyes, as though she were seeing something wonderful and far away.

There was a rustle of leaves. Rachel started, the light winked out, and the orb of water fell back into the pond with a splash. She scrambled to to her feet.

The girl who'd just brushed her way through the willow fronds was a younger version of Shireen. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, scuffed and dirty, and she was looking at Rachel with satisfaction. “So it
was
you,” she said.

Rachel took a step back. “How did you get in here?”

“Climbed over the wall,” Shireen said. “Come on, I just want to talk.”

“How long were you watching?”

“Long enough.” Rachel drew back and Shireen raised a hand. “It's okay, it's okay. Hey, you want to see something?”

Orange light flared at Shireen's hand and a flame caught in the air above her fingers, clearer and brighter than Rachel's spell. Rachel had been backing away, but as she saw the magic she halted, staring. “Cool, huh?” Shireen said.

Slowly Rachel came closer, until the two of them stood face to face under the willow tree. “How do you . . . ?” she asked, gazing at the light as if fascinated.

“Do it?” Shireen said. “Same as you.”

“How do you make it so strong?” Rachel said. She hadn't taken her eyes away.

Shireen shrugged. “I don't know, it's always been like that.” She closed her hand and the spell winked out. “Do your parents know?”

Rachel hesitated, then shook her head. “I'm keeping it secret from mine,” Shireen said.

“What is this?” Rachel asked. “How can we use it? What
are
we?”

“Don't know,” Shireen said again. She grinned. “But it'll be fun finding out, right?”

Rachel looked back at Shireen, then gave a little smile. “I'm Shireen,” Shireen said. “You?”

“Rachel.”

The scene blurred and shifted. I had a last glimpse of the two of them standing together by the water's edge, then—

* * *

W
e were indoors, in a roomy bedroom with a high ceiling. The furnishings were new and well kept but anonymous, the sort you'd get at a good boarding school or hotel. Tall windows let in lots of light, giving a view out onto a row of houses. In the distance the hum of cars rose and fell.

Rachel was lying on the bed reading. She was wearing what looked like a uniform—white blouse with a dark green skirt—and there was a green pullover slung over the back of a chair. She was older now, close to the age she'd been when we'd first met, and she looked more sure of herself, her movements more confident. Muffled footsteps sounded on the carpet outside and the door swung open. Rachel spoke in annoyance, not raising her eyes. “You're supposed to knock.”

Shireen shut the door behind her. “Nice to see you too.”

Rachel looked in surprise and her face lit up. “You're here! Wait, how did—?”

“Caught an early train.” Shireen wasn't wearing a uniform and compared to Rachel she looked scruffy, but she moved with the same energy she'd always had. She dropped into a chair, glancing around. “Wow, you get nice rooms.”

“This is the best one,” Rachel said. “Haven't you got school?”

“Forget about that—this is important. You remember what we were talking about back in the summer?”

Rachel sat up, alert. “You've found a teacher?”

“He found me,” Shireen said. “His name's Richard Drakh and he's looking for apprentices. I wasn't sure at first but I did some asking around and this guy's the real deal. He's
really
powerful. People are careful around him.”

“So what does he want?”

“Heh,” Shireen said. “He asked me something like that. He's offering me an apprenticeship. And he's got more than one place.” Shireen raised her eyebrows. “Interested?”

“He's offering me one too?”

“Well, kind of.”

Rachel sat back with a frown. “I just said that I knew someone else who'd be interested and asked whether he had other places,” Shireen said. “He said yes. I think he wants you.”

“If he wants me, why didn't he ask me?”

“Maybe he doesn't know about you yet. Come on, Rach, who cares who was first?”

I'd been looking between the two girls as they talked. As Shireen spoke I turned back to Rachel—and jerked back, throat constricting as I tried to scream.
Something
was standing behind her: a spindly shape, tall and slender and utterly inhuman, its features a blur of shadow. Its head reached nearly to the ceiling and it was holding still.

And just as suddenly it was gone. I stood in the centre of the room, looking wildly from side to side, heart hammering. The room was empty except for me and the two girls.

“. . . going to be a full-time gig,” Shireen was saying. Neither she nor Rachel had shown any reaction; they were talking as though nothing had happened. “He's going to show me his place on Saturday. If I say yes—if
we
say yes—we're going to move in. It's going to be magic lessons, introductions, the whole thing. Everything we need.”

“What about school?”

“Who cares about school?”

“The university applications—”

“Forget that. This is like getting an offer from Oxford and Cambridge and Harvard all at once. It's our big chance.”

Rachel got up and walked to the window, the book still hanging from one hand, and I followed her to peer out. Nothing. There was no trace of whatever that thing had been, but my heart was still pounding. I knew I'd seen it. “What's wrong?” Shireen asked.

Rachel turned back with a frown. “I don't want to leave.”

Shireen looked at her in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because things are good here,” Rachel said. “The other girls do what I want.”

Shireen rolled her eyes. “That's because they're scared of you. You're a big fish in a small pond.”

“Well, what's wrong with that?”

“Look, what you're doing here is kid stuff,” Shireen said. “Okay, so you're queen of your dorm—”

“House.”

Shireen waved a hand. “Whatever. It doesn't
get
you anything. And next year you're going to uni and things are going to change. It's not going to be so easy to push people around.”

Rachel shrugged. “What are they going to do about it?”

“It's not what they'll do,” Shireen said. “It's who might notice.”

“What do you mean?”

Shireen glanced at the window. “Look, the more I learn about this stuff, the more I get the feeling we're not that safe. If Richard Drakh could find us, someone else could too.”