Veiled (23 page)

“So fuck him,” Variam said. “He's not allowed to do this.”

“Oh, yeah, that's really going to help,” Luna said in exasperation. “We'll tell him he's not allowed.”

“Yeah, well, what else are you going to do?” Variam asked me. “Do what he tells you?”

“It doesn't even sound as though he can,” Anne said. “Levistus said that he wanted White Rose protected. If Alex stays here and they go through with their plan and arrest them, isn't Levistus going to blame Alex anyway?”

“Somehow I don't think he's going to give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“So no point worrying, is there?” Variam said.

“I don't think it's that simple,” Anne said.

“Well, we've got one thing going for us,” I said. “We might be juggling multiple enemies, but Levistus is too. He's too busy with this political duel he's fighting.”

“Until it ends,” Anne said.

“And if he loses, he's not going to be happy.” I sighed. “On the other hand, if he wins, then he'll have even
more
influence. And he wanted to go after me anyway. I'm not actually sure which would be worse.”

“Alex?” Arachne said. “Would you like a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“It seems to me that you have already established what your decision has to be,” Arachne said. “Even if you could aid Levistus—which may or may not be possible—you could not trust him to uphold his end of the deal. You would be adding to the resources of one proven to be your enemy. As well as mine. That is without taking into account that aiding Levistus would by default bring you into conflict with other factions of the Council. Besides . . .” Arachne looked down at me. “You know what White Rose are. You know what they do. Do you really want to help them?”

“No,” I admitted.

Arachne made a movement, something like a shrug. “Well then.”

“I guess that does simplify things, doesn't it?” I got up and walked absentmindedly over to one of the tables, moving a pile of clothes aside to pull something out from underneath.

“Can't we do something about Levistus?” Luna said. “I mean, he's trying to subvert the Keepers. That's kind of like treason.”

“It
is
treason,” Variam said. “Problem is, all the rest of the Council do it too.”

“But it's still illegal. Couldn't Alex go to the Council and tell them what he told us?”

“Levistus would just deny it.”

“Well, what if Alex recorded him? Wear a wire, like they do on those police shows?”

“You ever heard of a Council case getting decided by audio recordings?” Variam said.

“What do you mean?”

“You know how sound mages can reproduce any voice they like?” Variam said. “That's why. No Council court's going to admit it.”

“Well, what if—?”

“Um . . .” Anne said. “Alex? What's that?”

Variam and Luna turned to look at me. I'd returned to the sofa and I was tossing a pale green sphere back and forth from hand to hand. “Data focus,” I said.

Anne looked puzzled. “It looks like the same one from before.”

“That's because it is.”

“Wait,” Luna said. “Didn't you say you gave it to Haken?”

“I gave
a
data focus to Haken.”

Variam stared for a second, then his eyebrows rose. “You seriously—?”

“Yep.”

“Are you nuts?”

“Somehow I don't think they're going to take me to court over it,” I said. “Besides, how are they going to know the difference?”

Luna was looking between me and Variam. “Wait. You gave Haken a duplicate?”

“Alex came to me yesterday and asked for my help,” Arachne said in her clicking voice. She was still working away on the pattern of thread between her legs: it was beginning to take shape, looking like a dress of some kind. “Those old focuses are quite simple to duplicate when you know the trick. You can't copy the information inside, of course, but other than that there's no easy way to tell the difference.”

“And what are you going to do when they
do
look inside?” Variam said.

“The only way they'd be able to look inside would be if they were the intended recipient,” I said. “How exactly
would a Council mage explain that they were receiving a private message from White Rose? And how would they explain how they'd got their hands on it when it was supposed to have been in a Keeper evidence locker? They can't go public either.”

“But won't they know it was you?” Anne said.

“Maybe. Or they might just blame White Rose.”

“Wait a second,” Luna said. “Wasn't it Haken who asked for that focus?”

“Yup.”

“You think . . . ?”

“I've been getting a bit suspicious of Haken over the last day or so,” I said. “I don't know exactly who he's working for, but it's not just the Council. What I'd really have liked would have been to trace that focus he took and figure out where it ended up, but . . .”

“It would have been too easy to annul it,” Arachne said. “Besides, it wouldn't have given you more than a direction.”

Variam still looked sceptical, but he stayed quiet. “I've been thinking the same thing as you, about getting some sort of proof,” I said to Luna. “I've got the feeling that's what this thing is—the information inside, I mean. White Rose might get money for what they do, but their real power's information. I think that's what's in here. Blackmail material. Probably meant for Levistus in exchange for some other information paid in kind.” I sighed and held it up to the light. “Problem is, we can't read it.”

“If you can't read it, why'd you take it?” Variam said.

“Bargaining chip.”

“Wait a second,” Luna asked. “It was Vihaela who sent this focus, right?”

“Can't prove it,” I said. “But from what Xiaofan said, it sounds like it.”

“Then if she was sending it to Levistus, why would she send it with someone like Leo?” Luna asked. “Wouldn't it make more sense to use someone who could fight? Or something that couldn't be intercepted?”

“That's the bit I can't figure out either,” I said with a
frown. “Maybe Vihaela was so convinced it couldn't be read that she didn't care if it got lost?”

“There's really no way to read it if you're not the right person?”

“It's quite impossible,” Arachne said. “Barring some extremely high-level methods that I seriously doubt anyone in this country could access.”

“So it
is
possible?” Variam asked.

“Variam, the things I'm referring to are orders of magnitude more powerful than anything we've been discussing. If your enemies have access to
those
, then you have considerably bigger problems.”

“Listen to Arachne,” I told Vari. “If she says it can't be done, it can't be done.”

“Isn't that a little strange though?” Anne said.

I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said that the air mage who attacked you wanted that focus,” Anne said. “Now you're saying that Haken might have wanted it, too. If no one except the person it's meant for can read it, why would they care if it got lost?”

“Maybe they need to know what's on it,” Luna said.

“But Alex said it had just been used.”

“No, you're right,” I said. “Everyone's been acting as though the information on this thing is something sensitive. They're not afraid of it being lost—they're afraid of it being read. But if no one can read it . . .”

“Well, maybe they don't know that,” Luna said.

“But they'd have to . . .” I stopped.

“I still think there has to be some way,” Variam said. “I mean, you can break codes in computers, right? So if there's some trick—”

“That's it,” I said. “That's it, isn't it?”

Variam looked at me. “You mean—?”

“It doesn't matter if it's possible. It just matters whether they
think
it is.” I jumped to my feet. “I need to go.”

“Wait,” Anne said. “What's going on?”

“And why are you running off?” Luna said. “Can't you explain why—?”

“I don't know if I'm right yet,” I said. “But if I am . . . I think I know who's doing this. Meet me back at the shop. Arachne, thanks again.” I turned and headed up the tunnel.

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O
nce I was outside Arachne's lair, I used a gate stone to go home. Then I started making calls.

Most of the mages I tried to get in touch with weren't much help. Mages tend not to make themselves easily available via phone, and the ones I did get through to didn't have a clue what I was talking about. But after an hour, I finally managed to find the mage I'd wanted to speak to.

“It's the middle of the night,” Lensman said peevishly. He sounded a lot more irritable than he had been when I'd spoken to him on Friday. I'd probably caught him about to go to bed. “Can't it wait?”

“No, this is important. I need to know if you've heard anything about a new method of breaking the signature lock on a data focus.”

“A what?”

“A data focus. You know, the old Keeper model.”

“How did you hear about that?”

I snapped my fingers with my free hand.
Yes.
“Then it's real?”

“Well, I haven't confirmed it. But I just heard the same thing. Used almost those exact same words actually—”

“Where did you hear it from?”

“From Verde . . . he wasn't sure where it had come from. Is it true?”

“Not a clue.”

“Because if it is, it'll have huge implications for data security. You know how many old Council records are on those things? The whole reason anyone used them was that they were supposed to be unbreakable, but if there's a way of getting round it—”

“Did you just hear about it today?”

“Yes, this morning. Look, Verus, what's this about?”

“I don't know yet,” I said honestly. All right, half-honestly.
I didn't know for sure, but I had a
really
strong suspicion. “But I should know whether that rumour's true or not soon. I'll tell you when I do.”

“All right.” Lensman didn't sound entirely convinced, but I had the feeling he was keen to get off the line. “I'll talk to you then.”

I hung up the phone, opened a notebook, and started writing. I kept going for a couple of minutes, then leant back and tapped the base of the pen against my teeth, looking down at what I'd written.

At least one group and probably more had tried to get this focus, in a manner that suggested that it contained important information involving White Rose. There were rumours going around that there was a new technique to break this focus's encryption. Arachne was convinced that that was impossible.

Put that together with what was happening right now—the indictment against White Rose. Talisid had explained that the reason White Rose had stayed safe for so long was through mutually assured destruction. As long as everyone believed that White Rose's data was secure, no one would move against them. But if you managed to convince enough people that it
wasn't
secure . . . and acted in such a way as to make them believe that the data being released was only a matter of time . . .

“Yes,” I said out loud. It made sense. The only catch I could see was that for the plan to work, you'd need to be able to predict what Levistus would do. But given that all the signs indicated that they
had
successfully predicted that, that could just mean they had access to information I didn't know about.

If I was right, then I knew who was behind all this. It was the same person who'd hired Chamois. And the reason they were doing it was . . .

My excitement died as I realised the implications. Yes, I knew who was behind this. But they were on the opposite side to White Rose. I could stop their plan—maybe—but that would mean helping White Rose continue to do what they did.

Levistus had been right after all: if I hurt one side, I'd be helping the other. Whatever I did, someone I hated was going to profit from this. Was there a third option, some way I could make both of them lose? I couldn't think of one. It was too binary—if one side was weakened, the other would profit.

I stared down at the notebook, thinking. I didn't come up with any solutions, and at last I shook my head. Worrying about which side I wanted to win was a long-term concern—right now what I should be worrying about was staying alive. If I was right, then I didn't have much time. The indictment with White Rose was going to come to a head soon, and when it did, at least one of the factions involved in this was going to try to neutralise me somehow, probably by killing me.

The problem was, I couldn't do anything to preempt them. If I attacked them directly then I'd find myself up against the Keepers. I was going to have to figure out their plan and come up with a counter on the fly.

Still, that didn't mean I had to improvise
everything
. I could make some preparations of my own. And I had my own allies too. I just needed to figure out how to use them.

I got up and headed for my safe room. I was going to have to think very carefully about what to bring with me.

I
never sleep well the night before a battle. In this case I hadn't even known for sure if it
was
going to be a battle, which actually made things worse, since I'd stayed awake for hours trying to plan for all the possible scenarios. I fell asleep late, got up early, and by midmorning I'd finished my preparations, meaning that I spent the hours around noon with nothing very productive to do. I ended up rechecking things I'd checked already, talking to Luna, and trying not to wear myself down. It was a relief when the call finally came.

“We need you down at the station,” Haken said as soon as I picked up. “Briefing's in forty-five minutes.”

“I'll be there,” I told him, then put the phone down and looked at Luna. “We're on.”

“It could be—”

“It's not.”

“Yeah.” Luna sighed. “Wish I could come.”

“You know that's not an option. Besides—”

“I know, I know. I'll be ready.”

“Well, you never know,” I said as I got to my feet. “Maybe
when you pass your journeyman tests you'll end up joining the Keepers.”

Luna raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, right.”

“You're the one who gave me the push into joining them.”

“I didn't think it was going to turn out like this.”

“I think I would have been drawn into this one way or another.” I glanced at Luna. “You going to be okay on your end?”

“It's not like we've got much to do, is it?” Luna said. “What if we don't get the call?”

“Then it means everything's been resolved in a nice peaceful compromise and all the participants have gone away happy.”

Luna gave me a sceptical look. “Do you think that's going to happen?”

I slung my bag over my shoulder. “No.”

“I don't like sitting around when you're going out like this.”

“Don't worry,” I said as I headed for the door. “I think you'll be getting your share of excitement.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.” Luna sighed again. “Good luck.”

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I
arrived at Keeper HQ, went through security, and was directed upstairs. The building was busy, people bustling around and running errands. As I climbed the stairs I tried to feel if there was something different, some note of anxiety or tension in the air, but I couldn't sense it. The Keepers are a big organisation, and at office level it was business as usual.

I found the briefing room on the second floor, checked to see who was inside, and rolled my eyes. I was tempted to wait out in the corridor, but given the collection of magic types, it was a safe bet that someone was already tracking my movements. I took a breath and opened the door. The room was windowless and decorated in the same ugly cheap-looking fashion as the rest of Keeper HQ, with chairs, small
tables, and a whiteboard, along with a battered-looking projection focus sitting on a stand. There were seven people in the room, and all of them turned to look at me as I walked in.

“You're fucking kidding me,” one of the men said. It was Slate, my old friend from Red's. “What's
he
doing here?”

“Love you too, Slate.” I walked in and dropped into a chair next to Haken.

“No,” Slate said, addressing the room. “No way. We're not taking him.”

“Slate,” Haken said wearily. “Not now, all right?”

Slate shut up, but the look on his face made it clear that this wasn't over. “This is Mage Verus,” Haken said to the others.

“We know who he is,” one of the other men said.

“Good,” Haken said. “Then you know why he's here.”

A woman on the other side of the room was looking me up and down. “You're the one saying you fought a mantis golem?”

“Yes.”

“How come you're still alive?”

“It wasn't just a mantis golem,” I said. “And it wasn't just me.”

“Aren't you a diviner?” the woman said, and laughed. “What was it really, a crawler?”

“Tell you what,” I said. “How about you go find the cleanup team who spent Saturday night scraping mantis golem off the floor in Uxbridge? Tell them it was a crawler and see what they say.”

“Hey!” Haken said. He looked between me, Slate, the woman, and everyone else, glaring at all of us. “You all finished?”

I shut up. Slate and the woman didn't exactly look submissive but they didn't open their mouths either. “You have a problem with each other, deal with it on your own time,” Haken said. “We've got a job to do.”

No one argued. Haken started doing introductions. I paid attention.

Haken I knew, obviously, and it became clear as he went from person to person that he was the highest-ranking mage in the room . . . although maybe not by much. Slate I also
knew, unfortunately, and the man who'd spoken up earlier was one I'd seen in Red's but hadn't put a name to, big and tough-looking, mixed race with dark brown skin. From his body language and seating position I had the feeling he was on Slate's side. Haken introduced him as Trask.

The woman who'd been poking at me was called Lizbeth—I didn't know why she wasn't using a mage name, and I didn't ask. She was in her late twenties, with blond hair in a bob cut and a glint in her eye that suggested she wasn't done messing with me either. The other woman in the room was also the only other person besides me who wasn't a Keeper. She was tall with long brown hair, well-dressed and good-looking in an understated way. Her name was Abeyance, and she was apparently a Keeper auxiliary and timesight specialist. She greeted me with professional reserve.

The last two men were also Keepers, but ones I hadn't met before. One was fair-skinned and nondescript-looking, the other fat and Hispanic, and when Haken told me their names—Cerulean and Coatl—I was none the wiser. It wasn't really a surprise; there aren't all that many Keepers in Britain, but they keep to themselves and if you don't move in their circles you usually only see one when something's gone wrong. Slate had gone back to interrogating Abeyance about something or other, and Lizbeth was about to open her mouth again, when the door opened and the last man came in.

Keeper Rain was the captain of Caldera's section. He was tall and slender, with very dark skin and hair cut so short that his head was nearly bare. I'd never spoken to Rain, though Caldera seemed to respect him. He wasn't dressed in any way that particularly stood out—just a neat-looking business suit—but everyone turned to look as he stepped inside, and all conversation in the room cut off. “Good afternoon, people,” Rain said as he walked to the front of the room. He had a deep voice and a measured, deliberate way of speaking. “We've got a lot to cover and not much time, so I'll get straight to it. The Council has authorised the interrogation of Mage Vihaela, the second-in-command of
White Rose. You”—his eyes swept the group—“are going to bring her in for questioning.”

There was no audible reaction. I looked around to see that no one seemed particularly shocked. Obviously they'd seen it coming. “What's the charge?” Slate asked Rain. He seemed to have forgotten about me.

“Suspicion of involvement in the Rayfield case,” Rain said. “Which as of today is being treated as a murder.”

“So we're arresting her?”

“No,” Rain said. “The Council has decided not to issue a formal indictment.”

A murmur went up at that. “So what are we bringing her in for?” Lizbeth said. “Littering?”

“The Council believes that an indictment would risk escalating the conflict.” Rain didn't show anything on his face, but somehow I got the impression he wasn't happy. “Vihaela will be brought in, but she will not be formally charged.”

“Oh, this is bullshit,” Slate said.

“What, we're supposed to say pretty please?” Lizbeth said. “What happens when she tells us to go fuck ourselves?”

“You may not have a formal indictment,” Rain said, “but you are acting under direct Council orders. That means if you encounter any resistance, you'll be free to use necessary force.”

Both Slate and Lizbeth perked up at that. Rain noticed. “I said
necessary
force.” Rain didn't raise his voice, but his gaze rested on the two of them. “You are not pulling in some two-bit adept, and you are going to have eyes on you for this one. You pull some cowboy shit, I will hang you out to dry. Understand?”

Slate and Lizbeth had stopped smiling. “Yeah,” Slate said.

“Lizbeth?”

“I got it,” Lizbeth said.

“The six of you,” Rain nodded to the Keepers, “will be the field team for this operation. You will have two auxiliaries attached to you for the duration, mages Abeyance and
Verus. Abeyance is a time mage and Verus is a diviner. They'll provide information support on the ground. Haken has field command. Slate, you're his second. The seven of you report to Haken, and Haken reports to me.” He glanced around. “Any questions?”

“Uh, yeah.” One of the other Keepers, Coatl, raised his hand. “So if I need to be excused to take a shit, should I be going to Slate, or do I ask Haken? You know, if it's an emergency.”

“Hey,” Lizbeth said. “If
you're
taking a shit, it's always an emergency.”

“Love you too, Liz.”

“Are you hearing this?” Slate demanded to Rain. “Why's this clown on the detail?”

“Kiss my arse,” Coatl told Slate. “If the Council really gave a fuck, we'd have an indictment already.”

“How about you—” Haken began, then stopped as Rain raised a hand. Rain looked at Coatl. “You have something to say?” Rain asked. “Say it.”

“Council can't make up their mind what they want,” Coatl said. “Everyone's got their own piece.” He shrugged. “I'm just saying.”

“Yeah, well, maybe they do,” Rain said. “But we've got a missing apprentice and a missing witness, and that's not going away. So if we're going to do this thing, we're going to do it right.” He looked around. “Does anyone have a problem with that? Because if you do, there's the door.”

Coatl and Cerulean looked away. Lizbeth and Slate looked back at Rain with neutral expressions. Abeyance stayed quiet.

“All right,” Rain said at last. “I take it from your silence you're ready to do some work.” He fitted something into the projector, then glanced over at the light switch. It moved with a click and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment before the projection focus activated and a life-sized figure materialised in front of us, shedding a glow over the group.

Like most projection images, the figure outlined before us was brighter and clearer than an ordinary image would
be, more real than real. The shape was that of a woman, outlined in blue light, perfectly detailed but frozen and still. She was tall and slim, with a long neck, a willowy build, skin so dark it was nearly black, and short wavy hair that curved outwards to frame her face. She wore a black-and-beige dress, cut long.

“Take a good look,” Rain said. Standing behind the image, the reflected light cast him in deep blue. “This is your target, Mage Vihaela. Age thirty-five, apprenticed under Ylath. Became his apprentice at age sixteen, made Chosen one year later. After Ylath's death, she moved out on her own. Drifted between various cabals, picked up a few records but nothing serious. Even then she was building a reputation for herself. Joined White Rose four years ago, recruited personally by Marannis. Within a year she was in charge of their internal affairs, and after two she was the second-in-command of the entire organisation. Our sources say that she's now director in all but name.”

“Type?” Trask said.

“Death-life hybrid, heavier on the death side. Specialises in incapacitation and inflicting pain. One bit of good news is that we've got no indication that she can bypass shields. Bad news is that she definitely has ranged capability. How she can handle herself in a fight is not well known. She's never been brought in and there are no reliable accounts from people who've gone up against her. For that reason and for
several
others, I do not want you to engage her in combat if there is any possible alternative.”

“Anything on associates?” Haken said.

“No apprentices, no cabal mates. It's believed she does most of her work personally.”

I studied Vihaela's image. The recorder had caught her with her arms folded, large dark eyes looking out into space. Her expression made it seem as though she were studying someone. She didn't look obviously intimidating, but there was something in her face that triggered warning bells. I had the feeling I didn't want to get into a fight with her.

“Everyone familiar with her face?” Rain said. “Good. Because I want her brought in by tonight.”

I felt Haken start a little at that. “Tonight?” For the first time, Slate looked taken aback. “Seriously?”

“That's not enough time,” Lizbeth said.

“That's the time you have.”

“Captain,” Haken said, “we need to set more groundwork in place before doing something like this. We should be putting in surveillance, figuring out associates . . .”

“That's why you've been assigned a time mage and a diviner. They should be able to give you all the information you need.”

“You know how White Rose are going to take this. We march in there without preparation—”

“You're not arresting her.”

“They're not going to care!”

“Believe me, I am aware,” Rain said. “But these orders come straight from the top. The Council wants immediate action.” Rain paused. “For what it's worth, I told the representative almost exactly what you just told me. It did not sway his opinions on the matter. As far as the Council is concerned, the subject is closed.” Rain looked around. “Any other questions?”