Burned (8 page)

I didn’t want to leave. But would I have a choice?

I stayed up there in the darkness, growing colder and colder, watching the lights of the city flicker and change and listening to the cars and trains rumble by. Finally when I began to shiver I turned and went back down. Hermes followed me. Once he was back inside my flat, he jumped up on to the armchair, curled up and went to sleep.

I stayed up waiting for Talisid until the last possible futures of him calling that night had thinned away to nothing. At last, I went to bed. I slept poorly, and started awake several times, searching the futures for danger, but the night was silent and empty.

Morning. Five days until my sentence went through.

The chime of the communicator pulled me out of a confusing dream, and I stumbled to my feet and pulled on my trousers, still half asleep. I splashed water on my face, dragged a comb through my hair and took a few seconds to run through the most probable paths the conversation could go. It was going to be good news and bad. Once I was as alert as I was going to get, I activated the focus.

Talisid’s image materialised on the coffee table. ‘Verus,’ Talisid said. ‘Are you in London?’

‘Haven’t fled the country yet, if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘There’s good news and bad,’ Talisid said. ‘Good news first. Druss the Red has voted against Levistus’s proposal.’

‘Your work?’

‘I’d like to take credit, but no.’

‘I guess I’ll send him a thank you note if I live out the week. What’s the bad news?’

‘Spire has declined to meet with you. Officially, he’s retiring to his family residence over the Christmas season and is unavailable for comment. Unofficially, I’ve been led to understand that he is staying neutral. He won’t support you, but neither will he vote against you.’

‘Three to two. So it all comes down to the last vote.’

‘To Undaaris, yes.’

‘Has he replied?’ I said. I knew what Talisid was going to say, but conversations go a lot smoother when you don’t pre-empt the other guy.

‘Undaaris has agreed to meet you,’ Talisid said. ‘I believe he spent a good part of yesterday making up his mind. He hasn’t made any commitments, but I would consider his agreement to meet a positive sign.’

‘So I’m going to have to convince him to vote in my favour,’ I said. ‘And whatever I tell him, it’s going to have to be more convincing than whatever arguments Levistus has made already.’

‘Or might make in the future, yes.’

‘Any suggestions for what I could trade him?’

‘How familiar are you with Senior Council politics?’

‘Not very.’

‘Out of the seven members of the Senior Council, Bahamus and Sal Sarque are affiliated with the Guardians,’ Talisid said. ‘Levistus and Alma are strongly associated with the Directors. Traditionally, those two pairs have tended to disagree, but Levistus has recently taken a strong stance opposing further Dark encroachment. In doing so, he’s won over Sarque. Bahamus and Sarque are divided on this issue, and Druss opposes Levistus in almost all areas, but still, that gives Levistus a reasonably consistent voting advantage of three to two. Spire and Undaaris are the swing votes. Spire leans neutral and independent. Undaaris is a Centrist.’

‘I thought Levistus had the support of the Centrists.’

‘Up to a point,’ Talisid said. ‘Many of the Centrists are coming round to the Unity Bloc’s way of thinking. They’re generally opposed to hostile action against Dark mages, and they’ve been disagreeing with Levistus and Sarque’s more aggressive stance. Undaaris isn’t going to want to upset his own faction.’

‘If he was that keen on not upsetting them, wouldn’t he have voted against the proposal already?’

‘A year ago he probably would have, but over the past few months Undaaris has been accused of being overly soft on Dark mages and their violations of the Concord. The Crusaders are pressuring him to show strength.’

I should probably point out here that if you’re finding this confusing, it’s not just you. Council politics are complicated as hell – Light mages grow up with it, but I’m not a Light mage. One of the big issues that divides the Council is the question of how they should treat Dark mages. The Unity Bloc are the closest you can get to a ‘pro-Dark’ faction. The Centrists mostly just want to maintain the status quo, though they can be swayed. The Guardians are opposed to Dark mages, but they do so reactively; they try to protect anyone who might get hurt by Dark mages, but they don’t advocate attacks unless provoked. Talisid is a member of the Guardian faction, and while we’ve had our disagreements, I’ve found his beliefs fairly compatible with mine.

But the mention of the Crusaders worried me. The Crusaders are the most aggressively anti-Dark of all the Light factions, and the most militant. They also have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to rogues; as far as they’re concerned, once a Dark mage, always a Dark mage. In the past, I’d mostly been off their radar – too small-time for them to care about – but the Crusaders had been utterly furious about Morden being raised to the Junior Council, and there had been reports since Morden’s appointment of Crusader attacks on Dark mages and suspected Dark sympathisers. I was pretty sure that, given the choice, they’d be quite happy to see me dead.

‘Which brings us to you,’ Talisid said. ‘Just recently, there have been rumours concerning your old master. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but—’

‘But he has something planned. Yes, I’ve heard. In fact, it seems to be all anybody wants to talk to me about. How does this help?’

‘From what I’ve heard, the Council are preparing a response,’ Talisid said. ‘If you can give Undaaris something that he could bring to the Guardians to prove his credentials, it would favourably dispose him towards you.’

‘What do you mean, prove his credentials?’

‘I mean Undaaris wants to get in the Guardians’ good books. You scratch his back, he’ll scratch yours.’

‘You mean he
might
scratch mine. Isn’t that a pretty thin thread?’

‘These are Senior Council members,’ Talisid said. ‘I’m afraid that making yourself agreeable is your best chance.’

‘Being agreeable isn’t really one of my specialities.’

‘No, but you’ve demonstrated some talent for negotiation. I suggest you use it.’ Talisid shrugged. ‘That’s all I have.’

It wasn’t as though I had much choice. ‘When’s the meeting?’

‘Ten o’clock. They’re delivering you a gate stone.’

‘Guess I’ll go get dressed.’

‘Good luck. I’ll be in touch if I learn more.’

Talisid hung up. I looked around and sighed.
Well, at least I’m awake.

I spent a while deciding what to wear. People in the Council tend to wear suits for day-to-day work, and mage robes for formal ceremonies. Normally I dress much more casually, and given the choice I’d have preferred to go into the meeting in a shirt and jeans, but it would have sent the wrong message – I was trying to look like a law-abiding member of magical society. In the end I pulled my solitary business suit out from the back of the wardrobe, took it out of its plastic covering, then put it on without much enthusiasm. Once I was done I took a look at myself in the mirror. Dark blue suit hanging off an angular figure, spiky and slightly too long hair mostly combed back over a pair of dark watchful eyes. I studied the image for a while, trying to figure out how I’d appear to an outside observer. I didn’t think I looked much like a Dark mage, but I definitely didn’t look like a Light one either. I waited until 9.50, then used the gate stone.

Being a diviner has its ups and downs, but at least you don’t get caught off guard very often.

The gate took me into a small wood-panelled room, with chandelier lights and pictures mounted on the walls. The air was warmer than my flat. It wasn’t flashy, but there was a definite sense that it belonged to someone important. From prior research, I’d learned that Undaaris’s primary residence was in Westminster. A quick check through the futures confirmed that that was where I was now.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. ‘Hello, Alex.’

‘Lyle,’ I said, turning. ‘Long time.’

The man standing behind me was the same age as me, though a little shorter. His features were a touch softer and less healthy than I remembered – he hadn’t put on weight, but he didn’t look as though he’d been getting much exercise. He wore a grey suit that looked noticeably more expensive than mine. ‘It has been, hasn’t it?’ Lyle said.

Lyle and I had been friends once, back when we were both apprentices – me to Richard, Lyle to a Light mage. When my apprenticeship blew up, we’d dropped out of contact. Lyle had built himself a career in the political world, while I’d lived as an independent mage, out on my own.

My choice of friends hadn’t been very good in those days. I suppose Lyle had never been actually evil, which put him a step ahead of most of the mages I’d met during my time with Richard, but while Lyle had been entertaining, he’d never been particularly trustworthy. When I’d really needed him, he’d hung me out to dry.

All of this flashed through my head in less than a second. ‘So you’re working for Undaaris now?’ I asked. I tried to make my voice pleasant. ‘Or is this a one-time thing?’

‘No, I’ve been acting as Undaaris’s secretary. Though it’s more like being his second, really. Scheduling and appointments and all that sort of stuff.’

‘To a Senior Councillor, huh? Going up in the world.’

Lyle laughed. ‘Well, I’ll go tell Undaaris you’ve arrived. If you could just wait here.’ He disappeared through the door, leaving me alone in the room. I wondered if that conversation had sounded as forced to him as it had to me.

Thinking about that made me remember the last member of the Light Council that Lyle had been working for, namely Levistus. Lyle had been the one to introduce me to Levistus, thus indirectly starting off the whole chain of events leading to the death sentence I was fighting right now. I wondered whether Lyle remembered it the same way.

Traditionally Council members like to keep applicants hanging around for a while, the better to emphasise how valuable their time is. I suspected that this would be an exception to the rule and that Undaaris would want me in and out as quickly as possible. I was right: Lyle reappeared in only a few minutes and ushered me out into a hallway, up a set of stairs and through a door. It led into a comfortable-looking study, and standing behind the desk, waiting to greet me, was Undaaris.

Undaaris was white-haired and slim. From my research I knew that he was over sixty, but he didn’t look it: he was straight-backed and handsome, and but for his hair could have passed for forty at the most. Life magic treatments; probably the only reason he hadn’t had his hair recoloured too had been to make an impression. He was a water mage, though, like most Council politicians, there were rumours that he had some mind abilities as well. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Undaaris, but it was the first time I’d been up close.

‘Ah, Mage Verus!’ Undaaris came bustling around the desk to shake my hand. ‘Glad you could make it.’

‘Councillor,’ I said. I’m not very good at acting respectful, but I did my best. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me.’

‘Not at all, not at all. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, coffee?’

‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.’

‘Of course, of course.’ Undaaris glanced at Lyle, who murmured something and disappeared out the door, closing it behind him and leaving the two of us alone.

The last time I’d been alone in a room with a Council member it hadn’t gone well. I fought off the impulse to check Undaaris’s defences by looking into the futures in which I attacked him – I needed to focus. ‘Well then,’ Undaaris said. He sat down behind his desk. ‘I understand there was something you wanted to discuss?’

‘Yes.’ I sat in one of the armchairs. ‘It’s to do with last Saturday’s resolution.’

‘Yes, well,’ Undaaris said. ‘You do understand that any information pertaining to closed Council meetings is strictly confidential.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ I said. ‘However, given the subject of this particular resolution, it doesn’t seem like a very good idea for me to wait until it’s made official.’

‘It’s still a little irregular…’

I looked at Undaaris with raised eyebrows.

Undaaris coughed. ‘But given the circumstances, I suppose it’s understandable.’

‘I’m under a death sentence.’ I kept my voice level. ‘Regularity isn’t my foremost concern.’

Undaaris looked uncomfortable. ‘I can’t confirm or deny anything along those lines.’

‘And I assume you can’t confirm or deny that the current state of the votes is three to two, either.’

‘I thought it was three to one?’

‘Druss.’

‘Oh, yes. He would, wouldn’t he?’

I waited.

‘Well, in that case – hypothetically – you should only need one more vote, yes?’ Undaaris said. ‘Have you considered Spire? He’s rather sympathetic to independent mages such as yourself.’

‘Spire’s abstaining.’

‘And you know that for sure?’ I didn’t answer and Undaaris sighed. ‘You seem better informed than I am. These leaks are becoming quite troublesome. I know they’re the way we do business, but it would be nice if closed meetings could actually stay secret.’

So I could be sentenced without knowing anything about it?
‘So, aside from Spire, the only one yet to vote is you.’

‘Ah.’ Undaaris looked uncomfortable again. ‘Yes.’

‘Can you help me?’ I asked.

‘I’d very much like to, of course…’

‘I’m not coming to you lightly,’ I said. ‘There isn’t anyone else left.’

Undaaris sighed. ‘I wish Levistus hadn’t done this. I’d known he had his issues but that resolution came as a complete surprise. And the timing…’

‘I don’t think the timing was an accident.’

‘No, perhaps not.’ Undaaris looked straight at me and clasped his hands on the desk. ‘This is placing me in a very difficult position.’

I tried to look understanding.

‘Levistus and Alma have been pressuring me over the Birkstead position. And Drakh’s name has been coming up over and over again in the last few months. It’s become a very sensitive issue. If I vote against this, then when it comes out, it’s going to be spun as being soft on Dark mages again.’