I didn’t meet Anne’s eyes. “Sometimes there aren’t any good choices,” I said at last, my voice quiet in the darkness. “Some things you do because everything else is worse.”
“And then it’s easier the next time,” Anne said. There was something distant in her voice and I looked up sharply, but in the darkness I couldn’t make out her features. It lasted only a second, then she looked aside and her voice was back to normal. “Maybe there’s nothing better. But at least you can make up for it afterwards.”
“And is that what this is? Your clinic?”
“Maybe,” Anne said. “Yes. If you spend your time using your magic to help people, then maybe if you do it long enough it’ll make you into a better person. Won’t it?”
“I . . . guess.” Something about the way Anne was saying that made me uneasy. I felt as though something was missing. “I guess you could make a living out of it if you wanted to.”
“The way those other life mages do? Sell healing to rich people?” Anne shook her head. “I just want to be left alone.”
“And does that include me?”
Anne didn’t answer.
“Do you want me to go away?” I asked. “Is that it?”
Anne was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” she said at last.
Silence fell. I waited a long time, but Anne didn’t speak again. “Fine,” I said, and rose. I began to walk past Anne up the slope, then paused and turned. “But let me tell you something I’ve learnt the hard way. You think you can take care of yourself? Well, you’re probably right. But if you have enough enemies then it doesn’t matter how good you are at taking care of yourself. One apprentice on their own isn’t a hero, they’re a target. If you can beat another mage, then someone who wants to hurt you won’t send one mage, they’ll send three. If you can beat three, they’ll send ten. Maybe if you follow other mages, then you do have to pay a price for it, but they’re not just doing it for themselves. The only kind of safety that lasts involves other people.”
Anne didn’t meet my eyes, and this time I didn’t have anything more to say. I walked away.
I rode the Overground back north, the train rolling through the darkness. Other people crowded the seats, the couples talking and the singles bent over their phones, but I didn’t pay them any attention. When I reached Camden Road I stayed on the train, getting off at Hampstead Heath station instead. The Heath was empty and black and I walked into the darkness of the park, hearing the sounds of voices fade away behind me until I was alone in the night.
Hampstead Heath is the home of a magical creature named Arachne. She’s probably the closest friend and ally that I have, and I often come out here when I’m worried or unhappy about something. Arachne’s very old and very wise, and talking to her usually helps me decide what to do.
But while Arachne might be my friend, she doesn’t just sit in her lair all day waiting for me to drop by. From time to time she disappears, often for several days in a row, and as I looked ahead I saw that this was one of those times. I’ve never figured out where Arachne goes on these trips. Given her appearance, I’m pretty sure it’s not a case of going out for a walk. I suspect it’s got something to do with the tunnels under her lair and what’s in them, but she’s never brought up the subject and I haven’t asked.
The dark and empty Heath was well suited to path-walking, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that Arachne wasn’t home. I should have checked in advance, but between Talisid, Anne, and my father, I’d had a distracting sort of day. I kept going anyway—Arachne might not be at her home, but it’s deserted enough to work pretty well as a meeting place, and looking ahead I saw that while Arachne might not be available, someone else was.
I reached the ravine with the oak tree that hid the entrance to Arachne’s lair, then took out my phone. The touch screen was bright in the darkness, and I tapped a name and put the phone to my ear. “Hey,” I said into the receiver when I got an answer. “You up for a chat? I wanted to talk something over . . . Not that long . . . At Arachne’s . . . Yeah . . . Okay. See you in a bit.” I hung up, leant against the tree, and waited.
For five minutes nothing happened. Then in the air in front of me an orange-red flame kindled and grew, lighting the ravine and the grass in a fiery glow. The light spread, forming a vertical oval six feet high, before its centre darkened to form a window into somewhere far away. I had a brief glimpse of a room, clothes scattered across the floor, then someone was stepping through in front of me. As soon as both his feet were on the ground, the gateway winked shut behind him. An orb of firelight hovered at his side, casting his dark skin in a reddish glow.
“Hey, Vari,” I said with a smile. “Good to see you.”
Variam is small and wiry, quick to move and to speak. He used to go to the same school as Anne, and they both got caught up in some kind of nasty magic-related business involving one of their teachers that I don’t know the details of. Then Anne got kidnapped by Sagash, Variam went to rescue Anne, and the two of them stuck together from that point on, for self-protection as much as anything else. Despite their shared history, they’re less close than you’d think; they might have spent a lot of their lives together, but the more I’ve gotten to know Anne and Variam, the more I’ve come to realise just how different they are.
The major break came last year. At the same time that Anne left to live on her own, Vari got apprenticed to a Council Keeper. He took to it pretty well, after the initial rough patches, but the two of them don’t do everything together the way they once did. “So what’s so important?” Variam asked. “I’ve got an op tomorrow morning.”
“It’s about Anne.”
Variam made a face.
“This is about her getting kicked from the program, isn’t it?” Variam said.
We were in a café near the Heath, a little off Highgate Road, seated on plastic chairs at a two-person table where wisps of steam rose from two untouched cups of tea. A waitress was half asleep at the counter, and weak lights struggled against the darkness outside. “I found out from Luna,” I said. “I went by Anne’s flat this evening.”
“And it didn’t go so well, right?”
“I’m worried about her,” I said. “You guys have got almost as many enemies as I do. Right now you’re protected, she’s not. Any chance she’d listen to you?”
“Tried it,” Variam said with a grimace. “Didn’t work.”
“When?”
“Last month after the Legion first picks. There was a Council sponsorship going, so I tried to get her to apply. She said no.”
I tilted my head. Variam didn’t look happy, and I had the feeling there was more to the story. “That was it?”
“We had a bit of a fight,” Variam said reluctantly. “Haven’t talked since.”
“Hard to imagine you two having a fight.”
Variam snorted. “You never saw us at Jagadev’s.”
“I always thought Anne followed your advice.”
“When she wants to,” Variam said. “When she doesn’t it’s like talking to a bloody rock. She doesn’t even argue, she just sits there and says no.”
Which come to think of it had been how most of my disagreements with her had gone. I drummed my fingers on the table. “Are there any Light types she’d trust? I thought she got on with some of the apprentices.”
“Only the younger ones, and that was before that whole murder charge thing at Fountain Reach.”
“How can they take that seriously?” I was getting frustrated with this—it should be such a simple problem. “They have to know Anne wouldn’t do something like that.”
Variam raised his eyebrows. “Uh, no they don’t.”
“Oh, come on. Why do the Lights and independents have such a problem with Anne, anyway?”
“You mean apart from the obvious?”
“You guys have been in the program for years. They should be used to it by now.”