. . . would it work on other canines too?
I stared down at the little alabaster figurine, looking into the future to see what would happen if I used it. Minutes stretched out. Nothing . . . There! A flash of excitement went through me and I focused on the figurine, channelling my magic through it.
Calling an intelligent creature is harder than calling an animal. A summoning focus doesn’t have the power to compel; the most it can do is send an invitation. I kept the flow of magic to a thread, a gentle suggestion, and waited.
Five minutes passed, ten. I stayed sitting on the stone floor. After a while, I closed my eyes.
The flicker of space magic came from my left, then to the right. A pause, then it came again, alternating between directions. The switches were irregular, unpredictable. I knew I was being watched and didn’t move, letting my observer get a good look. At last I spoke. “I’d like to make a deal.”
No answer. I opened my eyes to see the blink fox half hidden behind one of the pieces of machinery. Hidden in the shadows, its reddish coat looked grey, and its pointed muzzle was tilted down to the stone. Amber eyes reflected the daylight back at me, sharp and watchful.
I moved around to face it, keeping my motions slow and careful. The fox tracked my movements, unblinking. “I know you can understand me,” I said. “I’m guessing you’re wondering if this is some sort of trap and I’m here to catch you. I’m not. I’m a mage from the outside world, from London . . . come to think of it, you might not know where London is. Never mind. Point is, I’m trying to get out of here, along with my friend, and I could use some help.”
The fox didn’t respond. “I’m guessing you aren’t especially thrilled to be here,” I said. “Sagash’s apprentices want to catch you . . . or recatch you? Whichever, I’m sure there’s a reason you’re not hanging out with them. And I doubt this castle is all that nice a place to live. It’s kind of lonely and I imagine you get a bit sick of pigeons. If I get back outside, I could take you with me. Once you got through to the other side of the portal, you could blink off and go wherever you liked. Not like anyone could catch you, once you had space to run.”
No answer. “So?” I said. “Interested?”
The fox looked at me.
“Is that a yes or a no? Help me out here.”
Silence.
“Okay, I know you can’t talk, but could you give me some kind of feedback? Bark once for yes, twice for no, that kind of thing?”
The fox gave me a look.
“Fine, no barking. All right, let’s try this another way . . . I’m guessing you’re at least a little interested in getting out of this shadow realm. If you’re not, then just walk off.”
The fox turned its head towards the shadows, paused a moment, then turned back to me again.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Will you help me out?”
No response.
“What’s the problem—you don’t think you’re getting offered enough? Well, while we’re here there’s not much I can give you, but . . . I could give you a place to stay, if that’s what you’re looking for. Might even be able to help you find some others like you. You’re not the only blink fox out there.”
Again the fox didn’t move, not obviously, but something about its posture looked a little more alert. “So what do you say?” I asked.
There was a pause, then the fox trotted forward, emerging from the shadows and into the light. It moved with the trotting, doglike-catlike gait of city foxes, agile and quick. Now that I could see it clearly I was surprised at how big it was. Orange-red fur covered its back and sides, becoming dusty towards the haunches; the ears, legs, and tail were black with reddish patches, and splashes of white covered its throat, undermuzzle, and tail tip. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could make out a few traces of blood in the white fur of its throat. It sat, tail curled around its feet, and watched me.
“So, I’m Alex Verus,” I said. “Want to shake paws?”
The fox gave me a look.
“Just offering. Okay. I need to get into the central keep.”
The fox gave a sharp exhale-sneeze and gave its head a quick shake.
“I know it’s not exactly a safe plan. I’m kind of short on options.”
The fox looked in the direction of the front gate.
“Wouldn’t work, there’s a squad of shadows guarding it. Besides, I’m not just looking out for myself. I need to get my friend out too.”
Head tilt.
“She’s a human mage, female. You saw her a couple of days ago. She’s Sagash’s enemy as well.”
Tail flick, another look towards the gates.
“No, I’m not leaving her behind. I promised I’d help get you out, remember? Same goes for her. I don’t leave people behind if I can help it.”
The fox tilted its head, seemed to be thinking about it, then twitched its ears.
“So like I said, I need to get into the keep. Can you get me in?”
The fox seemed to consider for a moment, then blinked.
“Is that a yes?”
Blink.
“One for yes, two for no, right?”
Blink blink.
“Wait, what?”
The fox let its tongue pant out. It looked like it was grinning.
“A blink fox who’s a troll. Great.” I stood up, wincing a little at the stiffness in my muscles. The fox watched but didn’t jump back. “You ready to go?”
I set out southwest towards the keep. The fox trotted behind at a distance.
I spent most of the trip thinking about Richard.
It had been more than ten years since I’d seen Richard in the flesh, but it felt like less. Last year I’d made a couple of ill-advised trips to Elsewhere, viewing the past through Rachel’s eyes. It had been there that I’d learnt why Richard had vanished all those years ago—he’d used a blood sacrifice to open a gateway to another world. Leaving Rachel in charge of his estate, he’d disappeared . . . until now.
Why had he come back? I didn’t even know enough to make an educated guess. I’d never really understood Richard—what he wanted, what kind of person he was, what his ambitions were. The ease with which he’d been able to find the two of us had shaken me. If he’d wanted us dead or captured, he could have done it without lifting a finger.
But he hadn’t. He’d offered us a chance to join him, and walked away. Why?
No matter how I thought about it, the only answer that made any sense was that he’d meant it. He really had been offering us the opportunity to join his team. And when we’d said no, he’d let us go . . . leaving the door open for the future.
His last words had been next time. Richard could be a lot of things, but one thing I’d never known him to be was inefficient. If he did something, it was for a reason. And that meant that he thought next time, I might say yes.
The thought of that was so terrifying that I almost didn’t want to get out of the castle. Crystal was dangerous, Sagash was deadly, but both of them put together didn’t scare me even half as much as Richard did. Crystal was a known quantity—she was a plotter and I wasn’t going to underestimate her, but I’d beaten her once before. And while Sagash might be pretty terrifying in his inhuman way, he didn’t have much reason to notice me. Richard did.
And then there was the lurking fear underneath: that Richard’s offer had been our only way out. That by saying no, I’d guaranteed that neither of us would get out alive. The plan I had in mind was very dicey. If it didn’t work, then my choice to turn Richard down might end up being the biggest mistake I’d ever made . . . and one of the last.
Well, at least if I get killed doing this I won’t have to deal with Richard afterwards. That’s a plus.
I’d make a really bad suicide counsellor.
I shook it off and kept walking. One way or another, this would be over soon.