Arachne paused, tapping two of her front legs against the floor. “I think you’re mistaken,” she said at last, “but you may be right that you should be focusing on what you’re doing tonight. Do you know why you’re doing this, by the way?”
“What do you mean?” It was an odd question, but I was relieved at the change of subject. “I don’t think there’s any way of doing this that isn’t dangerous.”
“True, but not necessarily to you. From what you and Luna have told me, you could just as easily leave the work and the danger to the Keepers.”
I had to think about that one for a few seconds. As soon as Sonder had confirmed my fears last night about what had happened to Anne, I’d decided to drop everything else to try to find her, but I hadn’t thought about why. “You remember what you asked me last year?” I said eventually. “About what kind of person I want to be?”
Arachne made an affirmative gesture. “I never used to care about anyone else,” I said. “Not really. I mean, I’d do something nice now and again, but I always came first, you know?” I looked over at where Luna was making some point or other to Variam, using her hands for emphasis. “I’m not sure who changed that, you or Luna, but . . . I think it was Luna. You helped me when I needed it most, but I always saw you as above me, I guess. I could never really imagine you needing me for anything, not until that.” I gestured up at the jagged gash in the rock above one of the side tunnels, a souvenir of two years back. Arachne could have repaired it, but she’d chosen to leave it untouched, maybe as a reminder. “But Luna did need me. So I started thinking more and more about my friends. I kind of divided the world up into them, and everyone else. If you were inside that group, you mattered.”
“And now?”
“Now . . .” I shrugged. “Anne isn’t really one of my friends anymore. She made that pretty clear.” I was quiet for a moment. “For a while I thought that if I could save her, then I could prove . . . I don’t know. That what I did last year was okay? That my way of doing things was right? But it’s a bad reason. Helping her just so that she’d be grateful, that she’d owe me something . . . I think even if we do manage to pull this off, if Anne does end up safe again, then we still won’t be friends.”
“But you’re still going to do it?”
“Yeah, I am.” I looked up at Arachne. “Because after you strip away all the history and all the arguments, she’s in trouble and she still needs help. We might not manage to do this. Maybe we’ll fail and maybe we’ll give up. But it’s still worth doing.”
Arachne looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. I had the odd feeling it was almost as if she were smiling. “Good luck.”
“So,” Luna said. “Not bringing the armour?”
We were in Soho near the Tiger’s Palace, standing in a doorway just a couple of buildings down. I’d needed to be close to get a good angle on the reactions of the door security. Neon lights shone down from above, blotting out the stars, and the air was filled with the din of overlapping music. Groups of people were scattered across the street, laughter and yells echoing between the buildings. Occasionally a passerby would give us a glance, but we didn’t get many catcalls; it was a Saturday night in Soho and our outfits weren’t even close to the weirdest ones out there.
“Sends the wrong impression,” I said. Arachne made me an imbued item last year, a suit of reactive armour; it’s very good at what it does, but now wasn’t the time to break it out. “You don’t want to look like you need it. Your communicator working?”
Luna tapped her ear. “I think so. Calling Vari, can you—?”
“Hitting it doesn’t help.”
Luna made a face at me. “Vari, can you hear me? Alex is being mean again.”
“You probably deserve it,” Variam’s voice said in my ear.
The transparent focus set into my ear was a synchronous communicator, one of the nicer toys that Council mages get to play with. They’re lightweight, voice-activated, and allow you to talk to someone without a radio signal, which is handy when some of the people you’re sharing a room with can see electromagnetic waves. “Calling Vari, Luna,” I said. “Can you hear me?”
“Receiving,” Variam said.
“I’m right here, you know,” Luna said.
“Don’t be a smart-arse. Vari, you’ve found a good place?”
“I’m on the lower roof overlooking the front door and the back alley entrance,” Variam said. “You got the position?”
“Yeah. Keep us updated once we’re inside. You’re sure these things can’t be intercepted?”
“Sure. Unless the Council aren’t as good as they think they are, but what are the chances of that?” There was a chime and the channel closed.
“So, you going to tell me who we’re supposed to be?” Luna asked. She was carrying her focus weapon, and Arachne had made her a red silk cover for it, attached at the focus’s narrow end to a long braided rope, coiled in her hands. Disguising a whip as a whip: Arachne does have a sense of humour.
“I’m going to be a fairly reclusive Dark mage named Avis,” I said. “He’s important enough that he gets invited to these sorts of get-togethers, but he doesn’t like taking sides so he always turns them down.”
“Sounds fun. How about me?”
“It looks like Avis has just taken on a new apprentice. Come up with a name for yourself, and don’t use any kind of pun on ‘moon.’”
“Like I’d want to. I’m going to be Zarine.”
“Zarine?”
“If I’m a new apprentice I wouldn’t have a mage identity, right? Anyway, I always liked that name.”
“Zarine it is.”
We set off up the street. “No ribbon this time?” I asked as we approached the Tiger’s Palace.
“God no. Those things absorb my curse. I want to be at full strength.”
The entrance to Jagadev’s club is via basement level. We skirted a laughing pack of drunken twentysomethings and started down the stairs. “Arachne would make you another if you asked.”
“I know, but I don’t want to. Having it turned off for a few hours is great, but when it’s done I feel worse. If I’m going to fix this, I want it so that I can do it.”
“I think you will. Someday.”
Luna gave me a quick smile. “All right,” I said. “Game face on. Ready?”
“Let’s do it,” Luna said. I strode through the front entrance of Jagadev’s lair.
The outfit Arachne had made for me was a long military-style coat with gold tracing at the lapels and wrist and a white ruff at the neck, combined with a waistcoat and narrow trousers. It made me feel like I was going to a steampunk convention, but from examining myself in the mirror I had to admit it looked good. Whoever Avis was, he had a sense of style. A dark blue mask covered the upper half of my face, while Luna wore a narrower dark red band at eye level. We’d put them on before making our final approach.
The bouncers on the door were a different lot from the usuaclass="underline" more social graces, fewer broken noses. Evidently this evening rated a higher class of doorman. “May I take your name, please?” the one at the front asked. His manner was pleasant, but his eyes and those of the men behind him were alert and ready.
“Avis,” I said, meeting his gaze. I’d changed my posture subtly as I approached, standing a little straighter, my movements a little more deliberate. My voice was flat and calm.
The doorman nodded. “Welcome to the Tiger’s Palace.”
I walked towards the door at the other end, ignoring the doormen; Luna followed a pace behind. No one tried to stop us. The door swung shut and we were walking down a stone corridor. I’d known we were going to get this far; from now on things would get interesting. We reached the door at the end and I pushed it open, and the two of us walked out onto the main floor of Jagadev’s lair.
Chapter 5
The last time I’d visited the Tiger’s Palace had been a year and a half ago. When I’d seen it then it had been a dance club, hundreds of boys and girls in their teens and twenties packed into a concrete box filled with the pounding of industrial music. Now the concrete walls had been hidden by drapes of red cloth, and Indian artwork had been set up around the edge of the room. Carpets and tables were spaced across the floor, and the upper balcony had been decorated as well, though no amount of decoration could hide the dominating view it gave over the lower level.