Cursed (34 page)

The scrape of metal reached my ears over Martin’s screaming, and I looked up. The door I’d left ajar back at the entrance to the basement was open, and one of Belthas’s guards was standing there, one I’d seen before. He had a submachine gun pointed down at the floor, and he was wearing a red baseball cap. He saw me and the gun came up.

Reflex and survival instinct got me moving when my conscious mind couldn’t. I dived past Luna’s cell and around the corner as bullets raked the wall beside me. I heard the chatter of fire for another second, then the sound of running feet and silence.

I snatched a glance around the corner, trying to spot where the guard had gone. Nothing. Without my magic I felt slow, stupid. Had he gone left or right? I lifted my gun and aimed awkwardly, leaning out into the corridor.

The guard popped out on the side I wasn’t expecting and I threw myself back into cover as another burst of fire struck chips from the wall. My movements were scared, jerky; I was outclassed and I knew it. The fire stopped and I leant out to shoot back.

It was a trap. The guard was waiting with his sights trained on where I’d appear. If I’d been able to see into the future I would have seen it coming … but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Another burst of fire raked the corner and this time I wasn’t quick enough. Pain seared my left arm and I fell back with a cry.

The fire stopped. My left arm was numb, in agony, and
couldn’t support my gun. I staggered back along the corridor, looking for cover. I could hear the tread of cautious footsteps; the guard knew he’d hit me and was coming to finish me off. I wrenched at the handle of the first door. Locked. The footsteps broke into a jog. Next door … locked as well. I ran for the end of the corridor.

Gunfire behind. Something plucked at my shoulder and I knew I’d been hit. I kept running, made it around the corner as another burst slammed into the concrete, trying to get as far as I could before I collapsed. My legs were still working but I didn’t know how much longer they’d last.

But I’d run as far as I could. The corridor came to a dead end ahead, and behind me I could hear running feet. I made it to the nearest door and wrenched at the handle.

The handle turned. I scrambled into the darkness, tripped over a bucket, and fell with a crash, gasping in pain as the impact jarred my arm. I tried to get up, hit something else, fell again. No more time. I twisted awkwardly, propping up my gun on my body, lining up on the rectangle of light that marked the doorway.

Silence. The guard must be outside in the corridor but I couldn’t see him. I held dead still, trying to quiet my breathing.

A footstep, quiet and stealthy. Another. The guard was advancing down the corridor. Two more steps, then the faint rattle as he tried the first door. He had to know I was in one of the rooms—there was nowhere else to go. It was just a matter of time.

Another footstep, this one closer. I couldn’t see where the guard was and I was afraid. I held my breath, trying to block out the pain and the fear, keeping my eyes glued to the light of the doorway, the gun shaking slightly as my right hand held its weight. If he looked around the edge of that doorway I would have a second—no more—in which he was silhouetted against the light. One chance to hit him.

But in that same second, he’d see me. There was a crazy
irony to it. It was the same guy I’d found asleep in front of the monitors. After all the people I’d killed, I was about to die because I’d spared someone …

The footsteps stopped and I could hear the guard’s breathing just outside the door. I focused on the gun’s sight, trying to line it up on the right side of the door frame. One shot—

A flurry of footsteps. I heard the guard turn, then grunt as something hit him. The guard came into view, staggering across the doorway, caught for an instant in my gunsight with Luna’s slim body wrapped around him. Then he tripped and both of them fell with a thud out of my line of vision.

“Luna!” I shouted. I tried to roll to my feet, yelped as my arm gave way, gritted my teeth and struggled up anyway. Suddenly I wasn’t afraid for myself anymore. I could hear the scrabble of a fight, the guard swearing, boots scraping the concrete. Then there was a cracking noise and a
thump
, and everything went quiet.

By the time I reached the corridor it was all over. Luna had regained her feet and was dusting herself off, still holding the key ring I’d dropped through her door. The guard was lying still, the gun fallen from his hands. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his head and a heavy lump of concrete lay next to it. Looking up, I saw a jagged hole in the ceiling. One of the explosions must have weakened it.

I realised Luna was talking to me. “Alex?
Alex!
”

I looked up. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine.”

Luna gave me a disbelieving look and pointed at my left arm.

I looked down to see that the sleeve was wet with blood. “Oh. Right.” All of a sudden standing up felt really difficult. I slumped against the wall and slid down into a sitting position, wincing slightly.

“Alex!”
Luna said.

“’M okay,” I said halfheartedly.

“You’re not okay. You’re
shot
!” Luna made a move towards me and checked, holding back with a noise of frustration. “It’s just the arm, right?”

“No,” I said vaguely. “Don’t think so.” Now the frenzy of combat was over, it was so much harder to think. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.

“Then—can’t you look or see how bad it is or— I don’t know! Put a bandage on it, or something!”

“Didn’t bring one.” I laughed; somehow it seemed funny. “Used to. Had a first-aid kit. But so used to getting out of the way …”

Luna shook her head. “We can’t stay here. Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Luna took a step back, then waited. “Come on!”

“Where?”

“What do you mean, where?
You
tell
me
where!”

I tried to remember but it was so difficult. My mind kept wanting to go back to looking into the future and every time I did I saw only darkness. But even staring into darkness felt easier than doing anything without my magic to rely on. Maybe if I sat there and kept trying it would come back. “Don’t know,” I said. “You think of something.”

Luna looked at me in disbelief. Then all of a sudden, she exploded. “What—
no
!” She stared down at me, her hands balled up into fists. “I cannot believe this! You’re ALWAYS lecturing me, you’re ALWAYS telling me what to do, now the ONE TIME I need it you do THIS? What about Arachne? And Belthas? You’re the only one who knows what’s going on! Now
get up
!”

Somehow I found myself on my feet. I still wasn’t sure what I was doing but the names struck a chord in my memory. “Arachne. Right.” I tried to remember what the plan was. Stopping Belthas, that was it. I just wasn’t sure how.

Luna shook her head. “This isn’t working. You’re no good like …” She chewed her lip. “Alex.
Alex!
What did Martin do?”

“He took my magic.” Even saying it hurt. “I mean … no,
he couldn’t.” I tried to concentrate, to focus. “You can’t take a mage’s power without killing him. It’s still … there. Everything that lets me use it is still there. The monkey’s paw is just taking it. Giving it to him …”

Luna was silent. I looked up to see that her brow was furrowed, thinking. “Wait,” she said. “You can’t take a mage’s power without killing him? Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

Luna stared into space for a second, then her forehead cleared and she nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

I turned my head to watch as Luna walked over to the guard lying on the floor. She hesitated, then shook her head and reached down to pull something from the man’s belt. It slid from its sheath with a quiet hiss and as I saw the light glint off it I realised it was a knife. Luna rose and came back, holding the blade awkwardly. I watched as she edged around me, keeping her distance so that she wouldn’t pass too close. And I kept watching as she walked up the corridor towards where I’d last seen Martin.

Only then did I put it together. “No, Luna, wait!”

Luna looked at me, her expression a mixture of anger and something else.
“What?”

“You— You don’t have to do this.”

Luna’s voice was tight, on edge. “We’ve got to do something.”

I shook my head. “No.” All of a sudden I knew what to do. “There’s another way.”

M
artin had stopped screaming. He was lying curled up on his side, scratches on the floor where his shoes had scraped. His fingers were clenched, dug into his face, and blood trickled between them in a ghastly mask. He’d lost the gun but was still gripping the monkey’s paw, his knuckles white on the lacquered tube. His breath was coming in short gasps and he didn’t seem to know we were there.

Luna and I looked down at him for a second. “What happened?” Luna asked.

“He got what he wished for,” I said absently. Thousands and millions of futures, pouring into his mind. There’s a reason diviners are rare. I spent years building the mental discipline to be able to use my power without going mad. When I look into the future, it’s like seeing through a lens: sometimes narrow and focused, sometimes wide and blurred, but always sorting, ordering, picking the futures I need and blocking out the rest. Martin didn’t have a lens. He had all my power without any of my skill. He was seeing everything at once.

I knelt next to him. Deep scratches showed on Martin’s face from where he’d clawed at his eyes, but his eyes stared blindly into space. “Martin,” I said. I could keep talking and thinking as long as I stayed focused, but it was a struggle. I kept wanting to sink back into darkness and I didn’t know how long I could keep it up. “The magic’s killing you. You’ve still got the monkey’s paw. Wish it back.”

No response. Martin’s eyes didn’t flicker, and his breathing stayed the same, hoarse and ragged.

“Can he hear us?” Luna asked.

I shook my head. Martin had to be most of the way to insane. He probably couldn’t even tell the difference between future and present anymore. “So?” Luna said.

I took a breath. “Give me that knife.”

Luna set it down on the floor with a clink. I fumbled behind me and missed it twice before looking back around to pick it up, then turned back to Martin. My thoughts were starting to fray at the edges and I knew I didn’t have much time. I took a deep breath, and focused. For this to work, I would have to genuinely mean to go through with it.

I forced myself to go back through my memories, thinking of how Martin had betrayed me and Luna. How he’d lied to us from the beginning, tried to use us, taking everything he could and leaving us to our deaths. Then I brought
the knife forward in my good arm. The steel blade flashed in the light as I put it to Martin’s throat for one quick, measured slash.

My magic senses danger by seeing the futures in which I’m hurt. As I see the futures in which I’m injured or killed, I change the decisions that lead to them. But it’s painful. To avoid a future in which I die, I have to experience it. I’ve learnt to shield myself from the psychic shock of those visions, taking only a hazy glance, enough to know how to avoid that future and no more.

Martin didn’t have a shield. In that instant, as I made the decision to kill him, Martin got to experience a million futures of me cutting his throat, a million visions of his own death, every one in perfect detail.

The scream from Martin’s throat was like nothing on earth. I jumped back as he spasmed, every muscle in his body flailing, and his voice hurt my ears.
“Take it back!”

And just that fast, it happened. My magic snapped back into me like a rubber band, the visions flooding back into my mind, glowing lines of light branching out into the darkness. I knew where I’d see Luna if I turned around to look at her. I knew the wound on my arm was painful but not fatal; it would hurt but I’d be able to keep using the arm if I forced myself. And I knew Martin was about to collapse in front of me.

Martin collapsed. I leant against the wall, closing my eyes, feeling my thoughts piecing themselves together again bit by bit. The relief was incredible and I shivered as I remembered the feeling of darkness. I was sure I’d just gotten the material for a whole new set of nightmares.

“Alex?” Luna asked.

“I’m okay,” I said. A stray memory nagged at me: Hadn’t that guard hit me, with that last burst of fire? I checked and this time my divination magic found an answer: two small holes in my cloak. My mist cloak had saved me, its camouflage blurring my outline just enough to make the shots miss.
I patted it affectionately, then checked my watch. Fifteen minutes. “We’d better go.”

Luna was staring down at Martin and when she spoke her voice was toneless. “Are those protections still working?”

Martin was unconscious, lying still on the floor, and as I looked into the futures in which Luna or I moved in to finish him, I saw that nothing would stop us. The monkey’s paw had taken back all that it had given. “They’re gone.”

Luna looked at Martin for a few seconds more and when she finally turned her eyes to me there was something cold in them. “You shouldn’t have stopped me.”