Burned (7 page)

‘I’m not working for Richard.’

‘But you can’t do it.’ Symmaris seemed to brace herself and turned back to me. ‘We can’t afford that. We
absolutely
can’t afford that. You know how much power Morden’s been getting. He hasn’t even had his seat for a year and he’s more influential than anyone else on the Junior Council. If this keeps going, he’s going to have a Senior Council seat himself. Whatever Drakh is doing, it’s going to increase the power of the Dark mages even further. It can’t go through.’

‘And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?’

‘Don’t help Drakh,’ Symmaris said. ‘Stay out of this.’

‘That’s pretty much exactly what I’m doing.’

‘I mean it,’ Symmaris insisted. ‘You can’t get involved.’

‘I am not getting involved.’

‘You don’t have to pretend. Obviously, you’re in a difficult position, but…’

‘Oh, good God.’ I leaned back and put my hands over my eyes. ‘You’re not listening to a single word I say, are you?’

Symmaris was silent.

I dropped my hands and looked at her. ‘What is it going to take to convince you that I’m not working for Richard?’

‘Put yourself in Keeper custody,’ Symmaris said instantly. ‘Just until all this is over.’

I stared at her. ‘That,’ I said at last, ‘is possibly the stupidest suggestion I have ever heard.’

‘It’s the only way. Look, no one is going to believe you’re not involved with Drakh.’

‘Apparently not, if they’re all like you.’

‘It’s the best way to prove your good intentions. I mean, if you did that it would be physically impossible to—’

‘I am not putting myself into custody,’ I said clearly.

‘Then leave,’ Symmaris said. ‘Go to another country, a shadow realm, something like that. Somewhere completely removed from here until this all dies down.’

‘I
really
do not have time for this right now.’

‘It’s the only way! If you’re not going to let the Keepers take you in, then you need to prove that you’re not involved.’

‘Prove to who?’

‘To the Light mages,’ Symmaris said. ‘Look, you don’t understand. Tensions are very high right now. It’s a very dangerous situation. There are some people who think they need to fight. Even if you’re not doing anything wrong, they’re going to think you are, even if no one tells them to.’

‘Then maybe you should go back and explain to them that I’m
not
doing anything wrong,’ I said. ‘My leaving the country or going into custody is not going to happen. But I’d do either of those things before getting involved in any way with Richard Drakh. Understand?’

Symmaris didn’t answer.

‘I said, do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Symmaris said unwillingly.

‘Then I would appreciate it very much if you could go back to your bosses, or your associates, or whoever these “people” that you’re so concerned about are, and tell them what I’ve just told you. They leave me alone, I’ll leave them alone. That’s how my relationship with the Council has gone for most of my life, and frankly, I think it’s worked pretty well so far. All right?’

Symmaris didn’t meet my eyes.

‘All right?’ I repeated.

‘Okay,’ Symmaris said. ‘I’ll tell them.’

‘Good. Is there anything else?’

Symmaris shook her head.

‘Then, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’

‘All right,’ Symmaris said. She walked to the door, glancing over her shoulder. I could tell from her stance that her shoulder-blades were tense, and I wondered if she was expecting an attack on the way out. She opened the door, letting a final gust of cold air into the shop, then shut it behind her.

I sat at the counter with a frown, tapping my fingers on the wooden surface. This was the third time inside twenty-four hours that someone had brought up what Richard was doing. And if both Chalice and Symmaris knew, it was a safe bet that soon everyone else would too.

It bothered me that I’d had to learn about this from them. I’d told Luna only a couple of hours ago that our group knew more about Richard than anyone else. It was starting to look as though I’d overestimated. It was true that we hadn’t run any active operations for a few weeks. Maybe something had changed …

No. There should have been signs.
I got up and headed upstairs, then once I was back in my room, I started going through my papers. Most of the notes we had on Richard were political. Details of his alliances with Dark mages, rumours on his alliance with Morden. But there had been something …

There.
Tucked away inside a red folder were three sheets of paper, cracked and dirty. I pulled them out and skimmed them: the writing was in Arabic, but there was a translation paperclipped to the back. We’d brought the sheets back from Syria at the beginning of the year. The rubbings on the paper were inscriptions from some kind of storage box. Richard had taken the box, and whatever had been inside. It hadn’t been the only time, either; we’d learned a couple of months later that he’d made another trip to a location just a few hundred miles away in Turkey.

We’d spent some time trying to figure out just what Richard had been after. It had been an odd anomaly: nearly everything else Richard had been doing seemed to relate to gaining political power in Britain. Why would he be suddenly interested in old Middle Eastern artefacts? There was nothing strange about him paying attention to these kinds of archaeological projects – a lot of mages do that; you never know when something useful is going to turn up – but Richard’s activities seemed weirdly specific. It was as though he was looking for something, and that worried me. The box in question had apparently dated back to a Byzantine magical tradition called the Heraclians, who’d been heavily associated with magical creatures, but we hadn’t been able to learn why Richard would care.

I shook my head and replaced the folder, then shut the drawer. This wasn’t my priority right now. I needed to survive this death sentence; once that was done, then maybe I could worry about Richard. What I
should
be worrying about was the fact that a significant number of Light mages apparently believed that I was helping Richard. The attack last night might not be the only one.

I wondered if Symmaris would be able to convince them I was telling the truth. Somehow, I doubted it. She didn’t strike me as an especially reliable ally.

It wasn’t until after sunset that Variam rang. ‘Hey, Alex.’ He sounded tired. ‘It’s done.’

‘You put it through?’

‘Just got back to Edinburgh. Been a long day.’

‘How did it go?’

‘Well, we found the dean,’ Variam said. ‘He, uh, wasn’t expecting visitors. We had to do some convincing, but it worked out. We put in the petition for Landis to take over as sponsors for me and Anne. Landis knows the dean from way back and he smoothed it over. He promised it’d be done by the end of the week.’

‘That had better be in calendar-speak, not politician-speak. Because if Friday rolls around and they say, “Oh, sorry, something’s come up, we’ll have it done by Monday.”…’

‘Yeah, we’re on it,’ Variam said. ‘We were talking about—’ There was a commotion in the background and Variam addressed someone away from the phone. ‘I said I’d tell him!’

‘Vari?’

‘I think Luna wants to talk to you,’ Variam said. ‘Talk soon, all right?’

‘Okay.’

There were sounds of movement, followed by a clunk, then Luna’s voice. ‘Alex?’

‘Hey, Luna,’ I said. ‘Please tell me you didn’t aggravate anyone important.’

‘Well, it wasn’t like we had a choice. The guy wouldn’t let us in, and…’

I sighed. ‘Did you get a date for your test?’

‘Yeah. My journeyman test is this Friday at ten.’

I let myself relax a little. ‘Good.’

‘Listen, I kind of need to go,’ Luna said. ‘There’s some social thing that Landis is going to. There are mages who do stuff with the programme committees, and Variam said … well, anyway. You’ll stop by to check in with Chalice, right?’

‘I will.’

‘Okay. Oh, wait, just a sec.’

There was another rustle. I waited a few seconds, then I heard Anne’s soft voice. ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, you,’ I said. ‘Did they treat you okay?’

‘It wasn’t too bad,’ Anne said. ‘At least they listened.’

‘Going to the party?’

‘I don’t think that’d be a good idea.’

‘You don’t have to let them shut you out all the time,’ I said. ‘I know the Light mages don’t trust you, but…’

‘Isn’t the idea for Vari and Luna to make a good impression?’ Anne said. ‘I don’t think having me around would help.’

I sighed. She was probably right. Anne is one of the few mages I know that the Council trusts even less than me. ‘What about you?’ Anne asked.

‘What? Oh. Still waiting on Talisid. I need to be there if he calls.’

Anne hesitated. ‘I could come over.’

‘Eh,’ I said. ‘It’s okay. You look after yourself.’

‘Will you be okay on your own? Luna told me about last night…’

‘I’m used to it. Safe trip back.’

‘You stay safe too.’

With Anne’s, Variam’s and Luna’s problems settled for the moment, I was at a loose end. I still needed to prepare some escape routes just in case worst came to worst, but looking into the future in which I sat at home and did nothing, I could tell that the chances of Talisid calling were a possibility but not a certainty. Which was pretty much the worst possible result from an informational point of view. If Talisid wasn’t going to get in touch, I could leave the house and spend the evening shopping for gate stones. If he
was
going to get in touch, I could narrow down the time he’d do it and get other stuff done before and after. But with the futures uncertain, I just had to sit around and wait. It’s like that annoying situation where you’re getting a package delivered, but you don’t know when, and you can’t leave the house in case the guy shows up while you’re out. Or at least it would be, if postal delivery companies were in the habit of sending you mail telling you how long you’ve got to live. With nothing else to do, I waited.

I’ve never liked waiting. It would probably surprise most people – from an outside perspective, waiting is something I do a lot. But there’s a difference between waiting for something you’re in control of, and waiting for something you’re not. There was absolutely nothing I could do to influence Talisid’s actions or the decisions of the people he spoke to. If he rang me up and told me that it was a no-go, that the votes weren’t getting changed, then that was it. I had no illusions that I could stand up to the Keepers if they seriously decided to hunt me down. I’d have to flee the country or die.

I found myself wishing that I’d taken Anne up on her offer. It was selfish – there wouldn’t have been anything for her to do except sit around, and she probably had more important things to do with her time. Still, it would make me feel better.

I looked into the future yet again to see if I could catch some snatches of conversation from the possibilities where Talisid called me, and couldn’t see any. Someone else was going to show up before I could wait long enough for there to be a realistic chance of Talisid calling. I looked towards the door and waited until I heard a rustle of movement. ‘I know you’re there, Hermes.’

A black nose poked around the edge of the door, followed by a vulpine muzzle. Hermes walked into the room with a leisurely sort of air. ‘You know, one of these days I’m going to have to figure out how you keep getting in,’ I said. ‘If you’re blinking to the spot in the storeroom, how are you getting through a locked door?’

Hermes gave me a quizzical look.

‘It’s not that I mind you showing up. Though you might be safer giving me a wider berth for a while.’

Hermes sat back on his hind legs.

I shook my head. ‘Why
do
you stick around? I know we feed you, but it’s not like you need it. And you help out with things like last night. It’s not as though you owe me anything. I do appreciate it, but … why?’

Hermes tilted his head, then got up, walked to the kitchen and looked back.

I looked at Hermes curiously. ‘You want me to follow?’

He blinked at me.

I followed Hermes through the kitchen and to the door leading out to the balcony. He sat and looked up at the handle. I got my coat, then opened the door and stepped out into the winter night.

Hermes blinked out of existence, vanishing from sight. From the flicker of space magic, I knew he’d teleported on to the top of the building. I climbed up the ladder to find him sitting on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. I walked up next to the fox and followed his gaze.

I love the view from the top of my flat. The streets around my part of Camden are densely packed enough that standing this high, you can barely see any ground. Instead you see rooftops: peaked roofs, tiled roofs and the flat rectangles of the apartment blocks, their ventilators puffing smoke into the cold sky. All around, a forest of aerials and chimneys rise up, built ten or twenty or fifty years ago by nameless craftsmen and abandoned to the air. Ever since I was young, rooftops always felt like a secret world to me, parallel to the city and yet apart from it, forgotten by all but a few. When I’d been deciding whether to take over this shop, whether to move in, I think it was this view that convinced me. It wasn’t until after I’d climbed up to this spot that I did it.

I realised suddenly that I loved it here. Not just this place, but everything it represented: my shop, the city, the people around it. At some point, the shop and the flat above it had become something more than the place where I lived. It had become my home, and I’d stayed here and weathered all the storms that had come to pass. Standing up on the roof, I could see the section that had been replaced two years before, when the Nightstalkers had blasted through with an explosive charge. I’d survived, and fought, and won, and had the roof rebuilt and reinforced with steel. But none of that would protect me from the Council if they turned against me.

Could I bear to just run away? Uproot myself, flee to another country, leave behind everyone and everything I cared for? All of a sudden I wasn’t so sure. Catch a wild animal, take it to a new climate and environment and let it go, and most of the time it doesn’t survive.