Forged Read online

  * * *

  —

  Cinder was waiting for me in the chapel, standing in the centre of the room. He was favouring one leg and arm, but otherwise showed no sign of injury. As I walked in through the archway he looked at me in silent question.

  I came to a stop and looked back at him.

  We stood facing each other for a long moment, then Cinder turned and walked away. His magelight followed as he climbed the stairs, leaving me alone in the dark.

  As the sound of his footsteps faded, a bolt of pain shot through my right arm, making me gasp. I staggered to the wall, leaning against it for support. It was too dark to see, but as I slid my left arm inside my clothes, my fingers felt the cool, too-smooth material of the fateweaver above my bicep. There were only a couple of inches of flesh left below my shoulder.

  I put my back against the wall, slid down to a sitting position, then leant my head back against the stone and closed my eyes. I needed to visit the shadow realms that Karyos had marked out for me. I needed to prepare for the Council, and for Richard, and for Anne. But right now I wanted to sit, and remember the apprentice I’d once been.

  chapter 10

  But the interior defences are another story,” Chalice finished. “And those are likely to be the most important.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. It was Monday and we were in the same park in which I’d met Cinder, shielded by the greenery. I was leaning against a tree, flipping through the folder that Chalice had handed me. “It’s the location I’m most concerned about. You’re sure this is his primary base of operations?”

  “As sure as I can be,” Chalice said. “It’s very likely that he also has a personal bubble or shadow realm that he keeps for private use. But this is definitely his primary base. There’s too much traffic for it to be anything else.”

  “Good.”

  There was a pause. “You don’t need to worry,” I said without looking up. “The Council aren’t tracking me. At least not at the moment.”

  “You may say that,” Chalice said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that right now you’re one of the most wanted mages in Britain. Even Crystal wasn’t this high priority a target.”

  “Crystal’s dead.”

  “Really?”

  I flipped another page. “Anne killed her a few weeks back.”

  Chalice is slim and a little shorter than average, with light brown skin. She has a graceful, composed manner, but she’d seemed uncomfortable from the start of this meeting. Her next words confirmed why.

  “Verus, I haven’t asked you any questions about why you wanted this information,” Chalice said. “However . . . there really aren’t all that many possible explanations.”

  I closed the folder and looked up. “Is this the kind of thing you’re uncomfortable with?”

  “Frankly, yes,” Chalice said. “Back when I did that research on Lightbringer and Zilean, I thought it was a one-off. I wasn’t expecting you to make a habit of it.”

  “Are you concerned I might come after you?”

  Chalice paused, her dark eyes weighing me. “No,” she said at last. “But there will be consequences.”

  “I understand,” I said. What Chalice was leaving unsaid was that I was running out of credit. This was the second such favour she’d done for me in a short time, and she wanted something back. I tapped the folder against my leg, thinking. “From some of the things you’ve said, you’ve made it sound as if you care about the way this country works. There are things you’d like to see happen, and things you’d like to avoid.”

  “Yes . . .”

  “How interested would you be in politics?”

  “In what sense?”

  I shrugged. “For all their talk, the Council hasn’t actually gotten around to revoking that law about having a Dark mage on the Junior Council. Once all this is over, they’ll need one, and that person’ll need an aide.”

  Chalice looked taken aback.

  “Have a think about it,” I said. “If not, we can work something out.”

  “I . . . will,” Chalice said slowly. She started to turn away, then paused. “You’ve changed a great deal.”

  “A lot of people have been telling me that.”

  Chalice nodded and left.

  * * *

  —

  My conversation with Talisid had taken place on Saturday. Nailing down a time and place for the exchange took far too long, but I was finally able to get him to agree to meet at the shadow realm of my choosing on Tuesday noon.

  The delay left me tense and on edge. I needed the time—I had a lot of things to set up—but the clock was ticking and everything was taking longer than I’d hoped. When I first thought up this plan, I’d figured that if things went wrong, I could always back off and try again. Now, I wasn’t so sure. If I didn’t pull this off, I might not be able to do it at all.

  Tuesday dawned bright and clear. I went to London to make final preparations.

  * * *

  —

  All right,” I told November. “Mike and speakers should be connected. Give it a try.”

  “Testing, testing,” November said, his voice sounding through the speakers. “Feedback is good. I believe everything’s operational.”

  “Good,” I said, managing not to roll my eyes. For someone who communicated largely through radio signals and the internet, November was absurdly picky about audio equipment. I suppose if the only ears I had were electronic ones, I’d have high standards too. “The rent on this flat is paid through the next three months, and you’ve got the bill accounts. There shouldn’t be anyone coming to the address, but if there is, get in touch.”

  “Yes, well . . . ,” November said. “About that. I’m not quite sure how to say this . . .”

  “You’re wondering what you’re going to do if I end up dead,” I finished.

  “Well, yes. I mean, this operation of yours does have a disturbingly large number of potential points of failure.”

  “It seems that way to you because you’re used to planning everything in detail,” I said. “I’m a lot more used to what you might call short-range adaptation.”

  “It still seems inadvisable.”

  “You’re welcome to come along.”

  “No, no, no,” November said hastily. “That last time was more than enough.”

  “Anyway, your connection should be good enough for today,” I said. “Your radio reception’s probably more limited than you’re used to, but I can’t really set up an antenna forest on a south London flat without drawing the wrong kind of attention.”

  “I was hoping for a proper array, but . . . maybe another time,” November said. “Actually . . . this might sound strange, but would you mind using that mental communication technique rather than audio signals?”

  “I thought you wanted a proper microphone. You were complaining constantly about the one you had in the Hollow.”

  “It was terrible,” November said, “but I have to admit, since I’ve been introduced to your telepathy, I’ve been realising how much I lose when I have to rely on voice analysis. The mental communication you use is so much richer. I’m starting to understand why humans prefer to speak face-to-face.”

  “Hmm,” I said, and reached out through the dreamstone. Better?

  I do think I prefer it, yes, November said. You’re quite sure you’re going through with this plan?

  Sure as I can be.

  Well . . . in that case, please do be careful.

  I smiled. Nice of you to say.

  I don’t mean to take liberties, November said hurriedly. But it’s rather nice having a human mage willing to show me a minimum of consideration.

  Don’t worry, I’m not going to be dying today, I said. Next week was another story. But I’ll give you Luna’s contact details just in case. She’s a good person for you to ge
t to know if you want another contact.

  Actually, I already have two phone numbers for her.

  I rolled my eyes. Freaking Levistus. Time to move.

  I walked outside and took out my phone. The flat I’d rented for November was in south Lewisham, and was about as back-end-of-nowhere as I’d been able to find. No one moved on the street as I leant against the wall and dialled a number. It rang twice before being answered. “Hello,” Morden said in his calm voice.

  “Ready,” I told him.

  “Time window?”

  “Best guess, six to ten hours depending on level of paranoia,” I said. “But I should be able to give you at least two hours on the other end.”

  “Sufficient,” Morden said. He hung up.

  I put the phone away and let out a long breath. “All right,” I said to the empty street. “Let’s do this.”

  * * *

  —

  I stepped through into the shadow realm, and let the gate close behind me.

  Karyos had directed me to many shadow realms which fit my requirements to a greater or lesser extent, and the one I’d eventually selected was called Hyperborea. According to legend, Hyperborea was supposed to be a mythical land of perfect beauty. Either whoever had named this shadow realm had thought he was being funny, or something had gone very, very wrong, because the place was a wasteland of sand and barren soil. A dusty haze hung in the air, thickening as it approached the edges of the shadow realm until it became opaque at the borders. A pale yellow sun gave little heat. There were no trees, no plants, and not so much as a rock formation to break the monotony of the level sands. It wasn’t hard to see why no one had moved in.

  The Council wasn’t here, which was good news. I’d been careful not to give them any hints to the location, and I’d path-walked extensively just to make sure, but it was still reassuring. I gave the perimeter a quick circuit, then took out my communicator to call Talisid.

  Talisid answered right on time. “Mage Verus.”

  “Talisid,” I said. “Are you and your escorts ready?”

  “We are.”

  “The exchange will be made in the shadow realm of Hyperborea,” I said. I gave the real-world mirror location and the information required to find it. “I’ll be within the deep shadow realm accessible from within. The access point is at the centre.”

  “A deep shadow realm?”

  “Correct.”

  I could tell that Talisid was frowning. “Our agreement did not mention a deep shadow realm.”

  “We agreed on a shadow realm of my choosing. This is the one of my choosing.”

  “Can I ask why you’ve chosen such a remote location?”

  “Because I don’t trust you very much,” I said. “Go check with your bosses if you like, but I’m not moving.”

  There was a long pause. I was ready to argue if I had to, but I was pretty sure Talisid would accept it. Sure enough, in a couple of minutes, his voice spoke from the communicator. “We are . . . provisionally . . . willing to accept this location. However, we will need additional time to verify its security.”

  “How long?”

  “Two hours.”

  That was actually better than I’d hoped for. “Fine. Just remember, three people including you. I see more than that, the deal’s off.”

  “I understand. Who are your escorts?”

  “You mean, is Anne with me?” I asked. “Yes. Whether you’ll see her is another question, but trust me, she’ll be watching. I’ll be seeing you soon.” I broke the connection.

  * * *

  —

  Two hours passed. Hyperborea stayed barren and empty, but it wasn’t long before the futures became crowded with signs of Council mages sniffing around. As the deadline approached, I saw the future of a gate opening into Hyperborea, clear and steady. Three people would be coming through: Talisid, and two security men. They would take a total of one minute to enter the shadow realm: Talisid would arrive thirty seconds behind the first man, and thirty seconds ahead of the second.

  I nodded. All as expected. I focused on my dreamstone, then used it to open a gateway into the deep shadow realm.

  * * *

  —

  The deep shadow realm was coloured in shades of purple, lavender and violet and mauve. White lights shone from invisible sources far above, illuminating spiralling ramps and high platforms. The air was hazy, and smelt odourless and dry. The place felt alien but familiar; it hadn’t changed in the two years since my last visit. Of course, it was only two years to me. In this place, it would have been a lot more.

  I didn’t let the gate close behind me. Instead, the instant my foot touched the ground, I broke into a run, heading for one of the tunnels leading out of the central chamber. I could feel the strain of holding the gate open mount quickly, and as I reached the tunnel, the pressure became unbearable. I let go and felt the gate snap closed. I would have maybe half a minute before the two realms fell out of sync, at which point Talisid would arrive.

  At which point things would get complicated.

  I’d spent a long time setting this up, and part of the reason it had taken me so long was to make sure that it wouldn’t be at all obvious what was really going on. So I should probably take a moment to explain.

  Deep shadow realms are similar to shadow realms: small pocket realities that can only be accessed via gate magic. They differ from shadow realms in several ways. The first big difference is that deep shadow realms can only be accessed via other shadow realms, and the paths by which you can reach them shift. When I’d first visited this deep shadow realm, the only way to reach it had been via the Hollow. That path had since broken. This meant that for the Council mages to reach me, they’d have to go from our world, to Hyperborea, to here. And likewise, to get back home, I’d have to go through Hyperborea first.

  The second thing about deep shadow realms is that their laws of reality can be very different from ours. Some have variable gravity, or mutable terrain. This particular deep shadow realm had an altered flow of time: an hour spent here was the equivalent of days or weeks in our world. The exact ratio waxed and waned, depending on how metaphysically “close” the deep shadow realm was. At the moment, based on my tests, the ratio was around 70:1, meaning that for each minute I spent in here, an hour and ten minutes would elapse at home.

  Hence why I’d been in such a hurry to get away from the entry chamber. The Council doesn’t have any great expertise with deep shadow realms, and Talisid and the rest of the Council team would certainly take precautions before entering. But the time dilation meant that from my perspective, even the most exhaustive checks would be finished very fast. It was hard to use my divination here, but my best guess was that I had a minute at most.

  Gate spells briefly equalised the passage of time between the two realms, but not for long. Once Talisid and his group stepped through, the ratio would snap back, and time would continue passing seventy times faster than in our world. Talisid and the others shouldn’t notice anything, at least not until they got back. I hadn’t.

  The deep shadow realm felt strange, alien. My divination showed me flashes of futures, chaotic and bizarre. It would be dangerous to stay here for long, dangerous to draw the attention of whatever inhabited this place. I could feel the dreamstone stirring as I ran, pulsing to some inaudible frequency. It was here that I’d found the crystal, taking it from a larger outgrowth. There had been other things there too, ones that weren’t crystals, who had worn faces and spoken to me. The experience had shaken me, and I’d walked away intending never to come back. It was only a year later that a chance remark of Arachne’s had set me thinking about a way to use the time dilation to my advantage.

  I’d come up with something that I was pretty sure would work, but it was dependent on two things. First, I was betting that this time, the Council wasn’t going to underestimate me or Anne. And seco
nd, I was betting that they really, really wanted to get rid of us.

  From behind me, I felt the pulse of gate magic. I slowed down and took out my communicator. “Talisid,” I said once I’d caught my breath. “You took your time.”

  “We had to take precautions,” Talisid replied.

  “Yes,” I said, “I noticed it took a whole minute for you to go through the gate into Hyperborea.”

  “As I said. Precautions.”

  “So I see.”

  I’d arrived in a small, curving corridor. From here I’d be able to use the dreamstone to gate back to Hyperborea, but if I did that now, there was too high a chance that I’d be detected. I needed a better head start. I waited, looking down at the communicator, feeling the futures flicker.

  “So,” Talisid said. “Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  “To make the trade.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Ready as you are.” I paused. “Why did you agree to that last demand, Talisid?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “For me to be put back on the Junior Council.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “A truce was on the table,” I said. “Maybe. But getting my seat back? After what happened with Sal Sarque? Levistus would never agree to that. Bahamus would never agree to that. Neither would Alma, neither would Druss.”

  “I am not fully privy to Senior Council discussions, but regardless of how they came to it, they have agreed on this exchange.”

  “Yes,” I said. “An exchange that would put me and Anne and Levistus’s synthetic intelligence all in the same place at the same time.”

  “Verus, I understand that you have reason to be cautious,” Talisid said. “But we’ve abided by all the terms of our agreement. I even elected to bring two members of the Council security forces, rather than Keepers, in a show of good faith.”

  “I’d say you brought considerably more than two people.”

  Through the communicator, I heard Talisid sigh. “I brought two, Verus. Only two. I know you’re using your divination magic to watch us. Go ahead and observe. If you like, have Mage Walker employ her lifesight. No matter what spells you employ, what sensory magic you use, they’ll tell you the same thing. There are only three of us here.”