Author: Benedict Jacka
Category: Science
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Luna paused, waiting for me to answer. When I didn’t, she carried on. “What happened? I know it’s something to do with you and Anne, but no one’s talking. I ducked out to check the news, and the police have got a section of the Heath cordoned off all around Arachne’s lair.”
“They found out about Anne and the jinn.”
“I was afraid of that.” Luna looked unhappy but not surprised. “I was hoping, but . . . Where is she?”
“She’s—” I took a breath. “She’s gone. Not dead, but—She’s not coming back.”
“Gone where? What happened?”
I told her. I didn’t leave anything out, and Luna’s expression went from unhappiness to shock to horror.
When I got to the part with Anne, my voice wavered and I had to struggle to keep talking. “I didn’t want to,” I told Luna, feeling fresh tears well up. “I was trying to fight, but Crystal made me keep going. I couldn’t stop.” I saw sympathy on Luna’s face, and she touched my hand, her curse pulling back to let her fingers rest on mine. “It was Starbreeze, like you thought,” I finished. “She must have carried me back to the Arcana Emporium since she thought that was my home. Lucky you were there . . .”
“Oh no,” Luna said. “Alex, I’m so sorry.”
I’d managed to sit up at some point in the story; now I bowed my head. “God, this is awful,” Luna said. “What can we do?”
I didn’t meet Luna’s eyes.
There was a ping from Luna’s pocket. She glanced down, then rose to her feet. “It’s Landis. I’ll be back.”
Luna was gone for only a few minutes before returning, and this time there were two people with her. One was a woman I’d never met before, slim and serious looking with ash blond hair. Her eyes settled on me as she walked through the door, weighing me up.
Landis came striding through right behind her, all long limbs and brisk movements. “Well, well.” Normally Landis acts like a lunatic, but he can flip from eccentric to focused in the blink of an eye. “So you’re the new threat to national peace, eh? Have to admit, you don’t look the part.”
“It is Verus, yes?” the woman—Klara—asked. “May I examine you?”
I nodded. “Go ahead.”
Klara crouched by my side and placed a hand on my chest, studying me dispassionately. “Alex told me what happened,” Luna said to Landis. “If you want to know—”
“Not at all, my dear girl,” Landis interrupted. “I most definitely do not want to know. In fact, I think it’s very much in everyone’s interest that I know as little as possible.”
“Isn’t it your duty as a Keeper to bring me in?” I said.
“Absolutely! I woke up this morning to a bulletin announcing that you and Miss Walker were to be considered high-priority fugitives to be arrested and brought in at all costs, alive if possible, dead if not. Which is why, as I said, I have no idea whatsoever as to your whereabouts. I rather think I’ve spent this past hour taking lunch in the Lake District.”
I looked at Klara. “And this is . . . ?”
“Of course, where are my manners? Verus, meet Klara Lorenz. An extremely talented life mage and old acquaintance. When Variam and Luna apprised me of your circumstances, I put two and two together and concluded that Miss Walker, sadly, would not be in a position to offer her services. Very fortunately, Lady Klara was willing to make a house call.”
“For which I am also not here,” Klara said in accented English. “I am not under the authority of your Council, but I would rather this was not official knowledge, you understand?” She leant back with a nod. “Your injuries are not life-threatening. The previous wounds you suffered were healed before I saw you. With rest, you will recover fully. Your hand is another matter.”
With everything else that had happened, I’d forgotten about that. I pulled it out from under the duvet and looked at it. Someone had wrapped it in elastic bandages that held it steady, though I couldn’t feel their touch. It didn’t hurt, but I couldn’t make it move.
“Your body’s connection in that area has been broken,” Klara said. “There is nothing I can do.”
I didn’t understand. “The bones?”
Klara made a frustrated noise. “Not the bones. The Lebens . . . no.” She looked at Landis. “Grundmuster?”
Landis nodded. “Klara is referring to a concept in common parlance among life mages. Over here, they refer to it as a body’s pattern. You might think of it as a blueprint.”
“Yes,” Klara said. “Pattern. Your right hand is missing from your body’s pattern. Effectively your body believes your hand has been severed. Nerves do not function, blood flow is limited. Healing is impossible. Any damage will not be repaired.”
“Can you cure it?”
Klara shook her head. “If I had several days to work, and had the mage who had done it with me, so that I could question her . . . then maybe. Even then I would be at the limits of my skill. Your best hope would be to find the mage that did it. Assuming they would be willing to help. It troubles me that anyone would do this. It serves no function.”
Unless you just really hate someone, I thought bleakly. “Is there anything I can do?”
“If you cannot undo the alteration, the hand will have to be amputated,” Klara said bluntly. “Without natural regeneration, damage to the skin and flesh will not heal. Any incision will put you at risk of blood loss and infection and, eventually, gangrene. At that point, your life will be at risk.”
It was one more blow on top of too many others. It said something about my last twenty-four hours that I didn’t even really feel it. I just felt numb.
“I should go,” Klara said, rising to her feet. “I will return in two days to check on you.”
“And I should report in before anyone in the Council thinks to ask the wrong sorts of questions,” Landis announced. “Good luck, Verus. You can get in touch with me via Variam, but I would rather suggest you don’t do so unless absolutely necessary, for both our sakes.”
I nodded. Landis and Klara left.
Luna hesitated at the door. “Is there anything . . . ?”
“I’d rather be alone right now,” I said. It was an effort to talk.
“Okay,” Luna said. “Look, we’ll figure out a way to fix this. Somehow.”
I nodded without believing it. Luna left and I lay flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling.
I felt like I’d been hit too many times in the head. I didn’t have any plans, any goals. All I could manage was to keep breathing, survive one hour at a time. The numbness hadn’t gone away, which might be for the best. I didn’t know if I could handle the weight of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
I tried to think of something to do and came up blank. I didn’t want to talk to Luna, or to Vari. A part of me wanted to go to Anne, but a larger part shrank from the idea, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. What did I want to do?
Die?
I shivered at that. Not at the question, but at realising that I didn’t know the answer.
I stared at the ceiling. Outside, birds sang in the Hollow, oblivious to my misery.
At last I pulled myself up on one elbow. I didn’t have a plan, but I knew I needed to do something. I wished uselessly for Arachne. In the past, whenever I’d been at my lowest point, I’d gone to her. But Arachne was gone and I didn’t know where.
If your situation is truly dire . . .
I sat bolt upright. The package.
I struggled to my feet and pulled open my desk drawer, fumbling until my fingers closed on something rectangular. I pulled it out and tore off the paper one-handed to reveal the contents.
It was a lacquered wooden box, hinged with no lock. I opened it to see . . .
. . . a plain white envelope.
I stared down at it. I don’t know what I’d been expecting—a magic item probabl
y. Apparently nearly all the parcel’s weight had been the box. The envelope was sealed and I held it down with my elbow to tear it open.
Folded inside were two sheets of paper, covered in neat flowing handwriting. I started reading, quickly at first, then slowing as I took in the contents.
My dear Alex,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. I write these words to give you what guidance I can in what must seem a truly desperate hour. I wish with all my heart that I could do more, but this is all I have to offer. I only hope it will make some small difference.
I know what has happened between you and Anne, and have known that it will happen for some time. You may wonder how; to that I can only say that it is an aspect of my heritage. My insight into the future differs from your divination, an awareness of certain key moments and events, but from your point of view the most important matter is that I knew how and why your relationship with Anne would end. You may well ask why I did not warn you. The short and unhappy answer is that some version of these events was inevitable. I chose not to share this knowledge, preferring to let you both experience what happiness you could in the brief time available. If you are angry, I can only apologise. I hope you can forgive me.
For some time now, I have known that a day would come when you would approach me asking to meet with the dragon in the tunnels below. Once you did, a clock would begin ticking, and within a short time—two years at the very most—events would be set in motion which would lead to the end of my time under Hampstead Heath, and to Anne’s enslavement at Richard’s hands. From there, the possibilities split into two paths. If you are reading this letter, then events have unfolded as I have hoped. You may be hurt terribly, you may feel as though all is lost, but you and Anne are alive.
The other path was much worse. It had many variations, but in all of them, Anne killed you, with her own death following shortly after. Unfortunately, my knowledge stretches no further than this, which is why I have arranged for this letter to pass into your hands. I have no special insight as to what lies ahead. But I can still advise, and so I have written this to counsel you one last time.
First and most important is the question of responsibility. As you read these words, I am sure you blame yourself for what has happened. Do not do this. Believe me when I say (for I do not say it lightly) that Anne’s fall is not your fault. Your old master set his sights upon her a long time ago, and once he did, this result was inevitable. Though I have no way to prove it, I believe that your efforts hampered and delayed his success, by giving her hope where she would otherwise have fallen into despair. But ultimately, your resources were too limited, his too great. Trust me when I say that in your dealings with Anne, you have no reason to be ashamed. You have done your best to help her, as you have helped Luna in the past, and Variam, and (not least) myself.
Now you must decide what to do, and on this matter I think I can guess the questions that will be weighing on your mind. First, an option that you may not have considered: you would at this point be fully entitled to walk away. Any debt you have towards Anne, you have long since paid. Hiding from Richard and from the Council will be difficult, but you have done harder things. If you choose to end your story at this point, passing quietly into retirement and disappearing from history, no one will blame you.
But I suspect you will choose otherwise. If this is the case, then the first course of action you have probably already considered is to enter Anne’s mind through Elsewhere. If you do so, you will certainly fail. You were barely able to succeed last time with the element of surprise; the same trick will not work twice. Instead you will have to follow the plan you have considered so long. You know the risks it entails, and you are as prepared as you will ever be.
I warned you a long time ago that by attempting to remain independent from both Richard and the Council, you were choosing the most difficult path, and I am afraid this is still true. Failure will mean your death. Success may mean the same. Even if you survive, you will be very different from the man you once were. In the past you have preferred to wait and react to events; that is no longer possible. Remember the lessons you learned from Richard, but never forget that there are other ways.
I have grown close to many humans over the long centuries of my life, watched them grow and learn with the turning of the seasons, and in time, sadly but inevitably, watched them pass away. Now, for the first time, I find myself separated from one whose life still lies ahead of him. It is a strange feeling but a hopeful one. Other creatures have laughed at me for my relationships, comparing them to how humans keep pets. But I have come to see you as far more, and now, thinking of what may befall you, I feel much as a mother must when her child sets out into the world.
I would like to believe that we will meet again, but I fear we will not. Some barriers are not easily crossed. But perhaps in some other place and time, we may see one another once more, and I will hear the end of your story. Until then, know that you have my love, and my blessing. My hopes and thoughts go with you.
Farewell,
Arachne
I lowered the paper, my thoughts whirling. She knew. So many things made sense now. She’d known what was coming, and had been prepared for it for a long time.
A part of me wanted to be angry at Arachne for keeping this a secret, but when I looked inside, the feeling wasn’t there. Maybe I could understand the decision; maybe there had just been so many catastrophes now that it didn’t seem to matter. In any case, I couldn’t feel resentment. I just wished she wasn’t gone.
I looked back at the letter’s second page. Walk away. It hadn’t even occurred to me. Would it even matter? I’d only managed to survive this long because both the Council and Richard had wanted me alive. Now both had turned against me, and I’d been brutally reminded of just how helpless I was against their full power. Whether I ran away or tried to fight might not even make a difference.
Unless I did what Arachne had told me I needed to do. Become a greater power. My eyes fell on a line from the next paragraph: . . . the plan you have considered so long . . . You are as prepared as you will ever be.
The plan she was talking about was the one the dragon had told me, two years ago. There are many paths, but only one that will enable you to reach your fullest potential: that which you already wielded and abandoned. I knew what that meant.
I also knew what the price would be.
I walked to my desk and sat on the chair. Through the window, I could see the trees of the Hollow, leaves blowing gently in the breeze, the sound of birdsong drifting down from above. I rested my chin in my one good hand and looked out the window.
I sat like that for a long time.
* * *
It was maybe an hour later that I felt a gate flash. Running footsteps sounded from out in the clearing, growing swiftly louder. They raced up to my cottage and the door banged open.
Variam stormed in. “You arsehole!” he shouted at me.
I blinked, turned with an effort. Variam was standing in the doorway, glaring down at me. “Sorry,” I managed to say.
“You knew all this time?” Variam demanded. “And you didn’t tell us? Either of us?”
I just nodded. Variam’s face darkened, and I saw violence flicker in the futures. I wondered if Variam would punch me. It was an academic sort of curiosity; if he did, I wasn’t going to stop him.
But with an effort Variam steadied himself. “Why?”
“At first, I just didn’t want you getting killed,” I said. “Later? Because I was afraid.”
Variam stared down at me, then strangely, I saw the anger fade from his face. “Yeah,” he said. “Well. That came back to bite you hard enough, didn’t it?” He turned away. “I guess we both fucked up.”
“You tried to warn me, didn’t you?” I said. “You knew something like this could happen.”
“Yeah,” Variam said. “I stopp
ed talking about it because I thought—oh, I don’t know. That if you trusted her and believed in her, then somehow it would all work out. Stupid Disney shit. I didn’t think it was going to be like this.”
“Luna told you the story?”
Variam pulled out a chair and sat down. “Yeah.”
“The Council let you go?”
“Barely,” Variam said. “I can’t stay long, they’re going to be watching me a lot more closely now. You know I had trouble at the start with the hard-liners. Gave me shit for my connections with you and Anne. That got better once you got on the Council and Anne was your aide. Now, though . . .”
Looking at Variam, it suddenly occurred to me that he hadn’t suggested that he would have to cut ties with me. In fact, I was pretty sure that it hadn’t even occurred to him. Just by talking to me like this, he was committing a crime, yet that didn’t seem to concern him at all. “You really are loyal, aren’t you?” I said with a fleeting smile. “I guess that’s what Luna saw.”
Variam gave me a suspicious look. “What’s that supposed to mean? Never mind. What should we do?”
“Can you give me an honest answer to something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think I’m too nice?”
Variam raised his eyebrows. “You really think this is the time?”
“I know it sounds strange,” I said. “But I need to make some decisions.”
Variam shook his head. “Fine. Short answer is yes. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re tough, but you’re also sort of . . . hesitant, I guess? Like what happened with the Nightstalkers. Most of the Council, all they saw was that you fought them and won. But the way I see it, you only did that after they’d tried to kill you about five times running. It was the same when we took the Hollow.”
“You think I’m naive?”