Nemesis (18 page)

“Ms Weston,” said Kay. “You didn’t actually call her that to her face, did you?”

“No, but she likes me,” said Markos. “Says I’m the most efficient admin she’s met, not that it means a blasted thing on Aglaia.”

“Why—” I stopped at a warning look from the centaur. “Come on, you must get asked a lot.”

“Strangely, no. Most people would rather run a mile than ask me a question. Except this idiot,” he said, indicating Kay.

“I don’t recall asking you anything. He likes to wind people up,” he added to me. “Tries to get you to insult him by accident. Whatever you do, don’t mention stairs, and if you want to live to see tomorrow, never ask for a ride on a centaur’s back.”

“You just had to bring that up,” Markos muttered.

“Huh? Why would I even ask that?”

“No reason,” said Markos firmly. “We are
not
horses, human.”

“I gathered,” I said. “So, we’re literally just going to sneak into the royal grounds? We aren’t going to see any more of Aglaia?”

“This isn’t a field trip, human,” said Markos.

“I know,” I said. “It’s the first time I’ve been offworld, though, apart from Valeria, and I don’t know much about it, except humans and centaurs hate each other, and aren’t keen on the Alliance.”

“That’s about as much as you need to know,” said Kay. “Centaurs and humans stick to their own territories, and don’t talk to one another if they can help it.”

“And that’s unlikely to change?” I asked. “I mean, some of you’ve joined the Alliance now.
You
don’t mind humans, right?”

“I find you entertaining,” said Markos. “To answer your earlier question, human, I chose Earth because it’s low-magic. I don’t hate humans, but magic is unpredictable at best and destructive at worst. It has no place in centaur life. And if magic
did
cause my father’s death, then the chaos it would cause is unparalleled. There hasn’t been open warfare for over a hundred years, by Earth measurements, and certainly not involving magic. Even the mages know its capacity for destruction.”

“We can’t rule out the possibility of magic being involved,” said Kay. “Not yet, anyway. If it
is
true… what will you do?”

“Come back to Earth,” the centaur said, his tone bleak. “And try not to get killed. Aglaia will be at war, sooner or later.”

“Unless we find out who did it,” said Kay. “I know these trackers can’t pinpoint an individual, but surely there are only certain mages who would have a motive? And sneaking into royal grounds isn’t something just anyone could do. Even magic-wielders.” He stopped, but I’d got the sense he’d been about to say something else. Or something had occurred to him, maybe.

I was liking this mission less and less by the second.

“Is there nothing anyone can do to stop it?” I asked.

“No,” said Kay. “You know the Alliance has limited power to interfere in magical warfare. Earth least of all.”

That was precisely the reason the council had withdrawn involvement in the Enzarian Empire’s war. Only now did I really appreciate how hopeless the situation seemed from
their
side, too. Ms Weston had said there were five million centaurs and close to a million mages with full magical abilities. How could anyone stop a war on that scale? Even the Inter-World Alliance?

Kay looked at me. “All we can do is keep a Passage open for evacuation, if necessary. The Law Division are working with the transition points, searching out volunteers to expand them under the Alliance. Including some of the people who worked with you.”

“They are?” I asked. This was one of the other things my arrest had caused by chain-reaction. Not only had our family’s details got out, but the details of all of our contacts including the offworld transition points where the refugees were evacuated to. The transition points were behind doors in the Passages that were supposed to be out of use. Between-world safe-houses. They were technically illegal, and I’d assumed they’d been shut. Not that the Alliance would actually work with the volunteers there.

“Of course,” said Kay. “I explained what they do to the council, and they’ve been working to reach an agreement. It’s been tricky, but they should be open again soon.”

Wait, what?
There I was again, expecting the worst, and he’d proven me wrong. I didn’t even know what to say.

Aric’s voice drifted into my head again.
A murdering psychopath… he tried to kill me.
Of all the things to believe, why had I chosen that? What Aric had said seemed incongruous with the man who’d stood up against the council on behalf of people who’d been doing something illegal, just to help Enzar and the other worlds caught up in conflict. And he’d just come back from Aglaia, where he was powerless to help in
their
conflict, when the first thing I’d asked was if he’d tried to kill someone who quite honestly deserved it.

I swallowed, unable to bring myself to speak. I bloody hoped we weren’t going to die. Like
hell
was that going to be the last one-to-one conversation we ever had.

After an eternity of walking, Markos and Kay finally stopped by a door.

“Do you learn all these when you become Ambassador?” I asked, breaking the silence. “The doors, I mean. How do you remember where they lead?” Honestly, all the doors were identical. Even I only knew where a few of them led.

“Mostly by rote,” said Markos. “I can’t say I know all of them. Aglaia’s, of course, I learned first. And this one knows the entire Passages inside out,” he added, indicating Kay.

“You do?” I asked.

“I have a copy of one of the original maps,” he said. “But it doesn’t have the new Passages on it. Guess it needs updating.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, thinking of the old lower level Passages I’d used from the door near home. “Wow, though. How many doors
are
there in here? There must be millions.”

“Probably,” said Kay. “A fair few are closed, or lead to dead ends or the bottom of the ocean–that’s one reason we’re not allowed to go around opening unknown doors. And new ones are logged in whenever they’re discovered, I imagine. Only the higher-ups know for certain. This one leads to the boundary of centaur territory,” he added. “Markos is going to lead us up to the royal grounds. He says he knows how to avoid any other centaurs. Then we’ll activate the Chameleons and head right for the murder site. Either way, we need to get out of their territory as fast as possible. You used the earpieces to communicate when you were invisible, right?”

“Yeah. But we can’t do that if there are centaurs around.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Kay. “All right. I think if we stick close together we shouldn’t need them, but they work as a backup. You’ll have to speak quietly, but if you see or hear anything, let me know.”

“You humans and your contraptions,” said Markos. “You turned Central’s technology against them?”

“Um, my brother did,” I said.

Markos shook his head. “You have nerve, human. Let’s hope you’ve plenty of that today.”

I tried to conjure up the old excitement, the thrill when I’d thwarted the Alliance and stole from under their noses.

I didn’t even know who that person was anymore.

ADA

My first impression of Aglaia was the heat. Even though the faux-leather uniform wasn’t thick, I was sweating within seconds. I’d never been abroad to warm places–we’d never been able to afford holidays–but Aglaia had a kind of classical sense about it, like pictures I’d seen of Greece. Trees with wide, autumn-coloured leaves surrounded a clearing with a wooden table and at least a couple of dozen chairs, but no one was there, human or otherwise.

“This is our usual meeting point.” Markos indicated the table.

We appeared to have walked out of a tree, inset with a metal door which looked oddly out of place in the forest. Paths branched off the clearing, recognisable because the undergrowth had been trampled flat. Fallen leaves in all shades, combined with the sun, gave a deceptively peaceful picture.

Underneath, magic brushed against my skin, but soft, like warmth rather than electricity. Markos hadn’t said whether centaurs couldn’t use it or if they just chose not to, and poking further would probably run me up against a wall. No wonder he and Kay got along.

Kay was still acting like I was just another colleague, like he didn’t know me at all. After what I’d said yesterday, it came as no surprise. I just really didn’t want to mess this mission up, and not just because I didn’t like the idea of getting trampled by centaurs.

Markos motioned for silence and led the way into the forest proper, down one of the paths.
We’re in enemy territory now.

We walked in total silence, the centaur leading the way.
I’m not cut out for a career as a spy
. The silence, heat and monotony were starting to get to me. Kay didn’t seem particularly bothered, but at every noise, he tensed slightly, ready to react at a second’s notice. Lucky I was well-practised at sneaking around, and our Alliance-issued shoes were designed for stealth, making no sound even on a carpet of fallen leaves.

We halted at a junction in the paths, and Kay glanced back at me and waited for me to catch up. The Chameleon made no sound as it activated and he vanished–a second later, I’d activated mine, too, where it was clipped to the inside of my sleeve. And then almost jumped out of my skin when his hand brushed against mine.

“Stay close.”

Ten minutes until the Chameleon effect wore off.

“Ninja skills, activate,” I whispered, more to bolster my own confidence than anything. I heard a quiet laugh from Kay.

We barely made a sound, though we walked close enough that I was sure he’d be able to hear my heart drumming. Were it not for the shiver of tension in the air, I might have been alone.

The forest path opened up into another clearing, one blocked by a fallen tree. There, Ms Weston had said the centaur king had been crushed by a falling branch. But the tree itself was at least a metre thick. No human could have knocked it down, right? I took a step towards it, squinting to see if I could spot any obvious signs of magical damage. The tree’s trunk was reddish brown, but there didn’t appear to be any burn marks, and magic didn’t feel noticeably stronger here.

I heard the slightest of beeping sounds as Kay activated whatever piece of Alliance tech he was using to check for traces of magic. It took only a second, then his hand brushed against mine again. No indication of the answer. With one last glance at the tree, I turned around, and we headed back down the path, without speaking a word.

A prickling sensation crawled up my spine. The trees were tall enough to completely block out the sky in a web of orange-brown leaves. The sunlight didn’t shine on this path, and dark shadows crowded the undergrowth. Rustling sounded amongst the trees, and I stopped dead as Kay rested his hand lightly on top of mine.

Centaurs had gathered on the path ahead, too many to count. Towering horse-people armed with spears and crossbows like a scene from mythology come to life. All wore the same style of crown, made from interwoven leaves and branches twisted into a certain pattern, and all carried weapons.
Oh, hell.

Kay swore in an undertone, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

We had maybe five minutes left before we’d be fully visible. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart sank when I saw centaurs gathered in the clearing behind us, too. They’d covered every possible path, sharp spear-points aimed forward, ready to attack. The suspicion and anger in their eyes told us they knew there was something out of place. My heart beat frantically.

“Climb a tree.” Kay’s voice was barely a breath, but I caught it.

Hell. I needed to pick out one tall enough that if I climbed high, I’d be out of sight of the centaurs. If we bypassed the centaurs directly in front, then we could get back to Markos, assuming nothing had happened to him. These centaurs sure looked unfriendly.

Ignoring the voice in the back of my head telling me we were totally screwed, I picked out a tree and pulled myself onto the nearest branch within reach. Then climbed higher, higher, thanking all the stars for my sense of balance. Falling now would be fatal even if I didn’t break my neck. And I had no idea where Kay was. For all I knew, I was alone, surrounded by armed centaurs. But I kept climbing, until I was above the centaurs, above the leafy canopy. I scanned the forest. Nothing but trees in either direction, extending for miles.

A hand on my arm startled me. Lucky I had a tight grip on the branch.

“You’re going to reappear in a minute,” Kay said, dead-quiet. “We’ve got to get back to the clearing. Keep moving that way.” He moved my hand to point in the right direction. “And stay off the ground. If any of them spots you, I’ll cause a diversion.”

I shook my head, even though of course he couldn’t see me. “Don’t be–”

“Trust me,” he said. “That way. Keep moving. Don’t let them see you. We’ll get out.”

The hand moved from my arm, and I breathed in, out, in, out. There was the quietest rustling in the leaves, and the slightest movement of the branch behind me. He’d jumped for the neighbouring tree.