‘But … even leaving that out, the answer’s still no.’
‘Wouldn’t your life be a lot easier?’
‘It’d be easier,’ I said slowly, ‘but it’d mean less. That was something I only realised last year. The reason I ran the Arcana Emporium so long wasn’t so that I could sell stuff. It was because every now and again it actually made a difference. I guess it’s something you think about more when you’re a diviner. You can always get away from conflicts. But if you take that far enough, staying away from conflicts also means staying away from life. I can stay safe if I keep my distance, but it’s a pretty empty sort of existence.’
‘Do you think what we do at the Council does make a difference?’ Anne asked. ‘A lot of the time it feels as though no one listens.’
‘I think it does,’ I said. ‘One of the things I keep noticing with the Council is that I’ll say things that no one else seems to have thought of. Most of the people in that room never talk to anyone outside the inner circle. I think that’ll have an effect, over time.’
‘Assuming no one kills us first.’
‘Well, there’s that.’
We lay there for a little while in silence. Below us, the Frisbee floated into the air, thrown on a long pass; four people raced after it. A woman was walking across the path, a Golden Retriever running back and forth at her feet, sniffing at the grass. One of the students jumped for the Frisbee; the other players dashed forward, trying to score.
‘So what about you?’ I asked Anne.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said that all my problems started because I got drawn in,’ I said. ‘But you didn’t get drawn in so much as dragged. What do you think your life would have been like without all this?’
‘I have trouble even imagining it any more,’ Anne admitted. ‘It’s been so long.’
‘What if you got to choose?’ I asked. ‘Say you got to rewrite your life, change how things have gone. Any way you liked. What would you pick?’
Anne was silent for a while. ‘Peace,’ she said at last. ‘A normal life.’
‘You mean without your magic, or … ?’
Anne shook her head. ‘Everyone in the magical world always acts as though those are opposites. Either you’re a mage, or you’re a normal. I don’t want to give up being a mage. I want to be a mage and live like a normal. A house, a garden, a family. Not having to look over my shoulder.’
‘Is that it? You wouldn’t want more?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. If you ask most people what they dream about, it’s stuff like winning the lottery or becoming famous.’
‘Winning the lottery wouldn’t fix any of my problems,’ Anne said. ‘And every bit of fame I’ve had has made my life worse. If I could make every mage in the world except for you and Luna and Vari forget about me, I would.’
‘No ambitions?’
‘Back when I was young, I used to dream about having adventures,’ Anne said. ‘Then I actually had some, and half of them were me being hunted or tortured and the other half were trying to save other people and knowing that I was the only one who could do it and if I made a mistake they were going to die. I don’t want any more adventures. I want a peaceful life with the people I care about.’
I hesitated, but only for an instant. ‘Is that what the other side of you wants too?’
Anne was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice had changed. ‘You spoke to her again, didn’t you?’
‘Can you tell?’
‘I can tell when things are different.’
We sat for a little while. ‘Are you angry?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ Anne said. ‘No. I don’t know.’ She shook her head as if trying to brush away an insect. ‘It’s … hard. Any feelings I have about her are mixed up.’
‘Can you talk to her?’
‘I did last year. Dr Shirland took me into Elsewhere and we went to the tower. She was different from how I remembered.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I don’t think she’s happy about being locked up. How’d the conversation go?’
‘Not well,’ Anne said. ‘At least I didn’t think so. Dr Shirland said that the more we talked, the easier it’d get.’
‘You know she’s the reason the jinn can reach you.’
I heard Anne sigh in the twilight. ‘I know. I was always afraid of it. I just hoped that if I stayed away …’
‘Did you keep talking to her?’
Anne was silent.
‘You stopped in the autumn,’ I said. It wasn’t a question. ‘After what happened on your birthday.’
‘I suppose.’
I looked over. ‘Have you been back since?’
Anne didn’t look back at me.
‘Anne.’
‘No,’ Anne said. ‘And yes, you’re right. Do we have to talk about this?’
‘We don’t have to,’ I said. ‘But it’d probably help.’
Anne didn’t answer. ‘Why did you stop?’ I said. ‘Dr Shirland seemed to think it was helping, and I could tell the difference too. You seemed less on edge.’
‘You know why,’ Anne said.
‘I know what caused it,’ I said. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘Because I don’t have to go to the tower to know what she’s feeling.’
I looked at Anne, questioning.
‘She was with me when we were being tortured,’ Anne said. Her voice was distant, and she didn’t meet my eyes. ‘She always is, when something like that happens. The worse the danger, the closer she gets, until we blend together. Then afterwards, when everything’s quiet again, she fades. Except this time she didn’t, not completely.’
The sun had dipped below the horizon and the light was fading from the sky. Down below, the Frisbee game went on, white T-shirts and bare arms and legs standing out in the gloom. ‘What did you feel?’ I asked quietly.
‘Rage. Hate.’ Anne’s voice was low. ‘She wants to be safe, just like me. Except she wants to do it by killing everyone who’s ever hurt us and anyone who might do it again. And the closer I get to her, the more I want that too. It’s like a wave, pulling me under. The only thing I can do is wall her off.’
‘Dr Shirland thinks that the answer is to merge,’ I said. ‘Become one person, not two.’
Anne gave a short laugh. ‘Yeah, right.’
I looked at Anne, disturbed. That had been not-Anne’s reaction exactly. She’d even sounded the same. ‘It seemed like she knew what she was talking about.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Anne said. ‘You think there’s some way for us to compromise, don’t you?’
‘It would be good if there was …’
‘Imagine you bring someone to a party,’ Anne said. ‘You walk in the door and it’s filled with people. You decide you want to get a drink. The other person decides she wants to kill everyone in the room. How do you compromise about something like that, Alex? Do you kill half the people in the room?’
‘Is she really that bad?’
‘Yes,’ Anne said flatly. ‘She is. You don’t know what she’s like. I do. She wants you to feel sorry for her so you’ll give her an opening.’
I opened my mouth, then hesitated. Because Anne was right – I did feel sorry for that other Anne, locked up and kept away from the outside world. And there was a pretty good chance that Anne was right and she had produced that effect deliberately. I’m not immune to being manipulated and Anne knows me well enough to have a good chance of succeeding at it.
But I could also see not-Anne’s side of the story. From her point of view, she’d done what she’d had to do and what she’d been made to do, and in return she’d been shunned. And she hadn’t struck me as the kind to accept an unjust punishment for ever. I didn’t think that keeping her locked up was going to work, and I had the nasty feeling that the longer Anne kept doing that, the more trouble she’d be storing up.