Veiled (13 page)

“You told him about the focus?”

“Uh-huh.”

Something was nagging at the back of my mind: a little seed of unease. It might be nothing, but . . . “Do you mind if I knock off? I'm still not a hundred percent.”

“Sure. Go get some rest.”

I headed for the door. “Oh,” Caldera said after me, “put that focus in storage before you go home, okay?”

“Okay.”

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I
took a train to Hampstead Heath and met up with an old friend. We talked a while, and I left the focus there before gating back to my shop. The focus was being stored somewhere safe, and I'd put it there before going home, so I'd done what Caldera had told me to do . . . technically.

I knew that I was playing with fire, doing this. Obeying the letter of Caldera's orders but not the spirit was something I'd done a few too many times already, and I'd discovered from experience that it really pissed her off. But I had the feeling that it might be a good idea to be prepared. If things went well, what I'd just done would be irrelevant and no one would really care. But if things went
badly
 . . . then I'd be glad I'd taken the precaution.

The gate closed behind me, leaving me in the darkness of my shop storeroom, and I sagged in sudden exhaustion, catching myself on a set of shelves. Operating a gate stone is difficult for me—my magic is very bad at affecting the physical world—and it had been a long day.

The doorbell rang.

I held still. The echoes died away, fading into silence, and the shop was dark and quiet again. It was nine o'clock on a Saturday night. Who was calling at this hour?

I looked ahead. The caller was a woman, and she was outside the door, waiting. I filtered the futures, searching for danger. Nothing that I could see. I changed my focus, looking to see how she would introduce herself . . .

. . . oh.

I forgot all about her, didn't I?

I checked my one-shots, touched the hilt of the knife under my coat. I didn't really want to answer the door. But I'd invited her—had it only been last night?—and it was too late for second thoughts. I walked out into my shop. Neon light glowed from the street outside, slits of it passing through the security shutters to cast strips of orange across the counters and shelves. Out in the road, a car rumbled by, making the shadows flicker. I opened the front door.

The woman outside was a little below average height, with light brown skin and dark eyes. Her hair was black and shoulder length, blending into her black coat so that only her face stood out in the darkness. “Mage Verus?”

“And you would be . . . ?”

“Chalice.” She held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

I checked with my magesight: no active spells that I could see. I shook her hand. “That's right. Good to meet you.”

“You aren't too busy? I know it's late.”

I looked back at Chalice. A Dark mage . . . and Luna's prospective teacher. “No, it's fine.” I smiled. “Why don't you come in?”

I
handed Chalice a cup of tea. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

We were up in my living room. Chalice was sitting on the sofa, knees together. I sat in the chair opposite her and put my own cup of tea on the table with a click. The sounds of the Camden night came filtering faintly through the window—shouts and laughter, running footsteps, the thumping of music from over the rooftops—but inside, the room was quiet.

I studied Chalice. Her coat was slung over the sofa along with her scarf, and she was leaning back, apparently relaxed. She wasn't obviously pretty but she dressed well and held herself with a sort of pleasant confidence. She didn't look like a Dark mage, or any sort of mage for that matter. She looked like a professional London woman in her late twenties or early thirties.

But she
was
a Dark mage, and the fact that she didn't look dangerous just meant that I hadn't yet figured out
how
she was dangerous. Being Luna's master has given me a good basic understanding of chance magic. Chalice would
be able to lay curses, protect herself with good luck, arrange for coincidences to happen when they most benefited her . . . and unlike Luna, she'd be in full control of it. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“Oh, don't worry.” Chalice spoke with a faint Indian accent, but her English was perfect. According to what I'd been able to learn, she'd grown up and trained in India before coming here in her midtwenties. “I had a free weekend, so I thought I'd drop by.”

“Hope you didn't have to wait long.”

“I didn't wait at all.”

“Actually, I was out of the shop all day. You rang just as I was getting home.”

Chalice smiled at me. “Just good luck, then.”

“Very.”

Silence fell. From outside, men's voices echoed down the street, laughing and drunken. Inside, Chalice and I watched each other across the coffee table. If we'd been cats, our tails would have been twitching.

“I like your house,” Chalice said.

“It's pretty small by mage standards.”

“I know, but the places most mages live are so cut off.” Chalice glanced back at the window; the sound of the boys had faded away to be replaced by the rumbling of a car engine as someone tried to park. “This feels more like the middle of the city. More alive.”

“That's why I do it. I grew up here in London; I don't like to be too apart from it.”

Chalice nodded, and I felt the tone shift. Pleasantries were complete. “So I understand you're looking for a teacher.”

“That's the idea.” I leant forward, picking up the teacup. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Usually, when a mage is thinking of taking on a new student, the first thing they want to do is talk to the student,” I said. “You wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh, I'd like to talk to your apprentice, too,” Chalice said. “But I thought it would clear the air if I spoke to you first.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“You're deciding whether you trust me enough to teach her. Yes?”

“That's pretty accurate,” I said. “If you don't mind, I'm a little curious as to why you approached Luna in the first place.”

“Actually, I've been aware of Luna for a while,” Chalice said. “Word got around when you started looking for a teacher. She's an unusual girl.”

“And how much
do
you know about her?”

“Her name's Luna Mancuso and she's twenty-four years old. She has an Italian father and an English mother, no brothers or sisters, and she was born and went to school in southwest London. She left school at age sixteen and started living away from home shortly afterwards. She became your apprentice at age twenty-two, two and a half years ago, and joined the apprentice program at the same time. She's at the bottom of her class in magical history and metaphysics, and at the top of her class in duelling. She won the Novice Open in early spring last year, placed third at Greengrove, practices at the Islington gym in her spare time, likes Japanese food, and she's a Leo.”

I looked at Chalice. “Also,” Chalice continued, “she's the carrier of a family curse that protects her and harms everyone else. Which makes her an adept, rather than a mage. Which technically means it's illegal for her to be in the apprentice program.”

“
Technically
, adepts are defined by being only able to use one spell,” I said. “You just said that her curse protects her and harms others. That's two effects, not one. Which makes her a mage.”

Chalice smiled. “You sound like a lawyer.”

“I've become very familiar with the adept laws in my spare time.”

“Don't worry,” Chalice said. “That wasn't a threat. I'm sure that if you had to, you could prove to the Council that Luna's a mage. Or at least muddle things enough.” Chalice paused. “But you're still wrong. She isn't using different
spells; she's using one spell. She's simply channelling it in different ways.”

“Why are you interested in her, then? If you don't think she's a mage—”

“I didn't say that.”

“So what do you think she is?”

“I think where you get your power from is less important than what you do with it. Have you tried teaching her any other spells? Luck control, blessings, slay machine . . . ?”

“We've done some practice.”

“Did you get anywhere?”

I hesitated an instant, deciding how much to give away. “No. Directing the curse, focusing it, yes. But we haven't managed to change that into anything affecting probability more generally.”

“That's because you're doing it the wrong way.”

“How do you know?”

“Because of what you just said,” Chalice said. “Probability. Diviners always see it like that.”

“Isn't that's exactly what chance magic does?”

“Probability is mathematicians' language, something separate from you. For a chance mage, it's not separate. Chance is the air you breathe and the ground under your feet. You can't set yourself apart.”

I thought about it for a second. I didn't really follow what she was saying . . . but then, I didn't need to. “Can you teach Luna?”

Chalice nodded. “I think so.”

I looked at her. “So.”

“So?”

“What's in it for you?”

“There are a few minor things. I'm curious to see how that apprentice of yours develops. Then there's the chance to study—”

“How about you just skip to the big one?”

“I want an alliance,” Chalice said. She wasn't smiling anymore. “Which means your help. If I need information, or a favour of some kind, you give it.”

I looked back at her for a second. “That sounds dangerous.”

“Magic is dangerous. Your apprentice is dangerous.
You're
dangerous. From what I understand, you've dealt with much worse.”

“That doesn't mean I do it by choice. Isn't there anything else you want? Money?”

“You couldn't offer me enough.”

“Items?”

“More tempting, but I'm afraid I'm not bargaining. I told you my price and I meant it.”

I checked to see what Chalice would do if I said no. Sure enough, every future in which I turned her down led to her walking out. She wasn't bluffing. “Your price isn't cheap.”

“Don't act as though you were expecting to get this for free. Did you think the Light chance mages were going to give lessons away?”

“No, but I wouldn't jump on that kind of offer from a Light mage either.” I thought for a second. “What kind of help?”

“Right now, there's nothing I need,” Chalice said. “I expect that'll change, sooner or later. Most likely, I'll need your help against other Dark mages.”

“Because
that
doesn't sound like a bad idea.”

“You're qualified to deal with it, aren't you?”

I was silent. “Besides,” Chalice said. “I did say an
alliance
. You can call on me for help too.”

“Except that you'd expect that to happen less often, since you're also teaching Luna.”

Chalice shrugged. “It's only fair.”

“I'm not going to sign any blank cheques,” I said. “There are things—a
lot
of things—that I won't do. If you're expecting me to . . .”

“No blank cheques,” Chalice said. “No oaths of obedience. You can always turn me down. But I want good faith. If I ask you to do something, and it's something you would be willing to do for an ally, then you should be willing to do it for me. If you say no, and you don't have a
very
good reason, then no more lessons.”

We sat in silence for a minute.

“What are you thinking?” Chalice asked.

“I'm thinking . . . it sounds like a fair offer.” I met Chalice's eyes. “If I trust you.”

“That's the question, isn't it?” Chalice tilted her head. “How about I give you a little good-faith gesture? I'll help you out with your current problem. Then if it checks out, maybe you'll be a little better disposed for the next time.”

“How are you going to help me?”

Chalice smiled. “You've never worked with a real chance mage before, have you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“If you had, you wouldn't have that tone of voice.” Chalice extended her hand. “For this trick, I'll need a pen and paper.”

I looked back at her for a second, then walked over to the desk to get them. “Want a top hat too?” I said as I put them on the coffee table.

“Is this one of your British humour things?” Chalice pushed the pen and notepad over to me. “Now, are there any things you're looking for at the moment? People, places, items?”

“You could say that.”

“Think about them and draw something.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What kind of something?”

“Whatever you like.”

I shrugged and decided to play along, taking the biro and beginning to draw. I've never been much of a sketch artist, but I'm good with patterns. I let the pen move across the paper as I thought about what I was looking for right now. Straightaway my mind went to the case with Caldera. Xiaofan's three owners, and where they were now. The boy Caldera had seen on the camera footage. The assassin who'd wounded me, and who was still out there . . .

“Done?” Chalice asked.

“More or less.” I studied what I'd drawn for a moment—it looked like a sea, the shapes of creatures beneath the surface, with a sky above. Geometric shapes formed a border over the water.

“Now give it to me.”

I handed Chalice the notepad. She glanced at the picture, took up the pen and scribbled something on it, then stood up and reached for her coat. “There you go.”

“Wait, what?”

Chalice put her coat on, flipped her hair out, and began winding her scarf around her neck. “You were looking for something, weren't you? That's where you need to go.”

I looked at the pad. A two-digit number was written on top of the picture, followed by what looked like a street name and postcode. “An address?”

“Looks that way.”

“What's there?”

Chalice finished with her scarf, then gave me a smile. “How should I know? You're the one who picked it.” She walked to the door. “Send me a message once you've made up your mind. I'll let myself out.” She disappeared down the stairs.

I stared after Chalice, listening to her go. When her footsteps faded away, I switched to the future in which I followed her, tracking her movements. She crossed the shop floor and let herself out into the street, shutting the door behind her, before walking away down the street.

So that was Luna's potential teacher. I tried to figure out how I felt about her, and didn't come up with any definite answers. She wasn't telling me everything . . . on the other hand, I hadn't been telling
her
everything, and it's not like I'd expected more at a first meeting. I still didn't completely trust her, but I didn't know whether that was just natural suspicion.

I
did
know that I wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with leaving Luna in her hands.

But Luna wasn't a child anymore. I had a responsibility to protect her, but not to overprotect her. This was a decision I should be making with her.

I looked down at the pad Chalice had written on. She'd taken two of the lines I'd sketched, and turned them into the numbers of the street address, 34. If I squinted a bit and looked sideways, those lines I'd drawn
did
kind of look like a 3 and a 4.

That didn't make any sense. I'd just been sketching. How could she turn that into an address that I didn't even know?

But hadn't that been exactly what Chalice had been getting at? That chance magic didn't work by the same logic as divination? Maybe that was why I'd never managed to make any real breakthroughs with Luna . . .

I shook my head and stood up. No point thinking in circles. I walked to my computer, typed in the postcode, and hit Search.

A map result came up of a district in west London. The postcode was UB8, out in Uxbridge. I switched from map to satellite view and saw nothing but a street full of houses. I wanted to path-walk and see what I'd find, but I didn't have an unobstructed route. If I could gate to that location it would have been easy, but I didn't have a gate stone that went anywhere near. That just left car or train, and the cumulative uncertainty of that kind of transport would cut off any path-walking before I'd covered a fraction of the distance.

But I had time to spare, and my divination magic to warn me of danger, and Chalice's visit had left me wide awake. The sounds of the Camden night were all around me, life and noise and activity, and I felt full of energy. Nothing makes me more curious than a mystery. I wanted to go and see what was there.