Cursed (16 page)

The fire mage struck with another of those white-hot
beams and this time he’d obviously figured out about the forcewall. The beam carved upwards, reaching over the force barrier and slicing into the ceiling and the attic beyond. Burning fragments showered into the bedroom, landing on the carpet and the bed. The beam cut off and I leant around the corner and threw the ice crystal. A hundred possible trajectories flickered through my senses and I released the crystal as they merged with the target. The crystal arced through the air to drop through the gap the fire mage had opened up with his beam. “Now!” I called.

Meredith said a word in a harsh-sounding language, and on the other side of the force barrier, the ice crystal detonated. I ducked back into the bathroom. “How good are you at climbing?”

Meredith looked at the window and back at me with wide eyes. “Out
there
?”

“There are two ways out of here—out there or past him.”

Meredith took a look over my shoulder and went pale. Forcewalls are great at holding off direct attacks but there were still plenty of ways for the heat to get in, and most of the flat was either on fire or getting that way. The living room was blazing and licks of flame were starting to spread around the bedroom, the dresses on the bed smouldering and catching alight as embers tumbled down from above. Even with the windows open, the air was growing thick with smoke, hot enough that it was getting hard to breathe. Smoke kills more people than flames; in a regular house fire you’re in more danger from asphyxiation than you are from burning to death, though having a pyromaniac throwing magical napalm around changes those odds a bit. But if this went on much longer, it’d be a race to see which killed us first—the smoke, the fire, or the mage.

A patient attacker would have backed off at this point and let the smoke and flames do his work for him. Apparently the fire mage wasn’t very patient because he chose this point to smash a curling blast of flame through the side wall
and around the force barrier, igniting the whole far half of the bedroom. Meredith ducked back with a yelp as a wave of searing air rolled in. It was so hot I could barely stand to look through the doorway, but as I did my heart jumped. The part of the floor holding up the left disc was burning fiercely. The gold discs needed to stay steady to maintain the barrier; as soon as that patch burnt through, there’d be no more forcewall.

But it gave me an idea. If this fire mage was so impatient, maybe we could lure him in. “Got another ice crystal?”

Meredith placed it in my hand. This one was bigger, a blue-tinted gem of cold glass. “Last one.”

I leant around the door frame, ducking my head against the scalding heat, and tossed the gem. It rolled to a stop a couple of feet behind the door. An instant later a piece of ceiling fell in with a crash, taking a patch of floor with it.

I felt the forcewall go down and the fire mage did too. I ducked back into the bathroom and slammed the door as a red light flashed and the wood of the door heated as the fire mage hosed down the bedroom. A second later, over the roar of flames, I heard the tread of footsteps. I waited until the fire mage was on top of the crystal, then signalled to Meredith.

The timing was perfect. The crystal exploded into a hundred tiny shards of jagged ice, throwing the fire mage from his feet and stunning him. “Come on!” I called to Meredith as I pulled the door open.

But as I looked out into the bedroom I realised with a chill that we’d left it too late. Everything in the bedroom was blazing. The bed was a bonfire, a wall of flame separated us from the living room, and the living room itself was an inferno. A wall of heat hit me, crisping the hairs on my arms, and choking smoke rolled over us, setting us ducking and coughing. I slammed the door again.

Meredith looked up me at with wide eyes. I tried desperately to think. Run through the flames—suicide. Stay here—suicide.
Climb out—probable suicide. Probable suicide won. “Out the window.”

Meredith stared. “I’ll fall!”

“Falling beats burning.”

Meredith took a step to the window, looked out at the sheer drop, and turned back, her face ashen. “It’ll kill me!”

“Going out
might
. Staying here
will
. Pick!”

Meredith hesitated, then began to climb out, white-faced. There were enough handholds on the wall to make the climb just about possible for a expert mountaineer. Meredith wasn’t one and neither was I. I looked into the future to try to gauge her chances …

…and saw to my disbelief that the fire mage was coming back for another go. The roar of the flames through the bathroom door drowned out almost everything else, but I could just hear the sound of embers going
crunch
under the soles of heavy boots. “Oh, come on!”

“Come where?” a cheerful voice said in my ear.

I spun and saw to my utter delight the shape of Starbreeze, hovering just outside the window. “Starbreeze! Get us out of here!”

Starbreeze pointed in interest at Meredith, hanging halfway out of the window. “Her too?”

“Yes!”
Meredith shouted.

The bathroom door exploded inwards, filling the bathroom with a cone of burning splinters. It missed Meredith by a couple of feet and I had just enough time to dodge into the corner. “Starbreeze, go!” I shouted as the fire mage strode in.

He was a big man, as tall as me and much heavier, with muscles that bulged under his dark clothes. A dim orange glow flickered around him, so faint as to be almost invisible, flaring where the flames licked around his feet. A black mask covered his face but I knew who he was; I’d known as soon as he’d cast that first spell. As he saw me, Cinder stopped dead, staring.

An instant later Starbreeze had turned the both of us to air and whipped us out into the night. I had one lightning-fast image of Cinder diminishing behind us through the window, then we were out of view and climbing. Smoke was pouring from the house’s top floor, flames glowing from the bedroom and attic, and as we rose higher I could see people emerging into the street to point and stare. Higher still and I spotted the flashing blue lights of the fire service, half a dozen streets away but closing in. As we kept rising I could see the yellow spark of the fire and the flickering blue of the engines becoming a cluster of points, then a faint glow, then a fuzz. And then there was nothing but the London sprawl.

The night view over the city was beautiful, a web of light against the dark patches of the parks and open spaces, but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. Now that we were out of danger, as weird as it might sound, I was angry. I’d saved Cinder’s life and this was the thanks I got?

Cinder hadn’t looked very dangerous the last time I’d seen him. He’d been bloodied and out cold after losing a duel with another Dark mage named Onyx. I’d let him go on the condition that he owed me one. Okay, I hadn’t exactly been myself at the time, but I
had
been myself when I’d found him in a Precursor energy trap a few hours earlier and saved his life
again
. I hadn’t expected gratitude, but I’d kind of hoped he’d at least stop trying to kill me.

I sighed. Apparently I’d been optimistic. It wasn’t quite as stupid as it sounds. At the time I’d needed all the help I could get and having a couple more mages who weren’t immediately hostile had done a lot to tip things in my favour. And, odd as it sounds, some Dark mages—not all, but some—do have a sense of honour. They’ll kill you without a second thought but if you help them out they’ll try to return the favour, if only to encourage other people to do the same in the future. I’d known Rachel was way too nuts to be depended on in that way but I’d hoped Cinder might be different.

Thinking of Rachel reminded me of something else. I spoke to Starbreeze, asking her to drop us off on my roof, and she did so cheerfully enough. I gave her something in thanks (she’d already forgotten what I was thanking her for) and watched her vanish into the night.

Meredith wasn’t talking and started to shiver as I brought her down from the roof. I recognised the signs of shock and guided her into my bedroom. She lay down without complaint, and by the time I’d fetched her something to drink she was asleep. Lying on my bed, her hair spread across the quilt, she looked very small and fragile. I looked at her for a little while before spreading a blanket over her and going back into my living room.

For whatever reason, the usual postcombat shakes hadn’t hit. Maybe it was because this time I’d had Starbreeze and Meredith instead of doing everything myself. Or maybe it was because it was the third bloody assassination attempt in twenty-four hours and I was getting desensitised. I turned my attention to Bob the Dead Construct, who was still lying on the carpet where I’d left him yesterday.

Now that I knew what to look for, I found it quickly. The construct wasn’t just similar to the ones I’d seen made in Richard’s mansion; it was identical. More than that, I recognised the style. The magic from the thing had faded but there was enough of a residue to identify the water magic of Rachel, otherwise known as Deleo, a Dark mage, dangerous, powerful, and close to insane. She was Cinder’s partner, but I’d known her longer than he had. After all, we’d been apprenticed to the same master.

There had been four of us, back then: Rachel, Shireen, Tobruk, and me. In the mansion of Richard Drakh we worked together, studied together, lived together. But in the end, there was room for only one. Tobruk died. Shireen died. Rachel won … sort of. She got the power and status she’d always wanted, the position of Richard’s Chosen. But I’m not sure it was worth the price she paid. When next I saw
her, she called herself Deleo … and there was very little left of the girl I’d once known.

It was time to get rid of Bob. Constructs don’t biodegrade but even the off chance that Rachel could track the residue was more risk than I was willing to take. First I had to get the construct through a gate stone portal (which was not what the things were designed for) and then I had to bury it at the other end. It took a long time. I don’t have much experience disposing of bodies. I suppose it would be a bit worrying if I did.

I stepped back into my living room, letting the portal close behind me, and dropped onto the sofa, staring at the wall. For the first time I seriously considered taking Garrick’s advice: drop everything, get out, and wait for the dust to settle. I didn’t want to fight Rachel and Cinder. For one thing, they were stronger than me. Meredith and I had thrown everything we had at Cinder tonight and barely slowed him down. One on one, Cinder would take me apart, and Rachel would probably do it even faster.

But if I was being honest, the bigger reason was our history. Rachel and I had never been friends; we’d tolerated each other at best and hated each other at worst. I’d fled Richard once I finally understood what he was, while Rachel had given herself over wholly to his path. But twisted as she was, Rachel was one of the last links to my past—someone once told me that she was what I could have been and they were right. And as far as I knew Cinder was the only person she trusted. The more you know about someone, the harder it is to kill them. I didn’t want to kill Rachel or Cinder, and if I got into a fight
without
being ready to kill them, there was a good chance
they’d
kill
me
.

But if I didn’t do anything, I’d be leaving them free rein with creatures like Arachne.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I hate decisions like this. No matter what I did, bad stuff was going to happen. What I wanted was for Rachel and Cinder and Meredith and
Belthas to drop the whole thing and stop trying to kill each other (and stop catching me in the crossfire while they were at it). But I couldn’t make them do that. The only choice left to me was whether to be involved. I studied my phone, thinking how easy it would be to send a message to Belthas telling him I wanted out.

The sound of the opening door brought my head up. Meredith was standing there, looking at me. “Hey.” I came to my feet. “Feeling better?”

Meredith walked forward. Her bare feet were quiet on the carpet; she’d lost her heels somewhere in the fight. Her dress was dotted with tears and ash marks and her hair was tangled, although it didn’t do anything to diminish her looks. “Are you okay?” I said. Somehow, the closer she got, the harder it became to do anything but look.

Meredith stopped next to me, looking into my eyes. She had to tilt her head to do it; she barely came to my shoulder. Her eyes were a deep brown and I started to lose myself in them. “Alex?” she said softly, and her voice seemed to come from all around me. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

I stood dead still for a second. A small voice at the back of my mind was trying to tell me something, but it was hard to listen. Then Meredith stood on tiptoe to kiss me and I stopped thinking about anything at all.

I
don’t usually sleep well. I sleep even less well the closer I am to someone else. But I found some peace that night and when I woke I felt better than I had in days. I lay propped up on one elbow for a while, watching Meredith as she slept, until she stirred and opened her eyes to give me a smile. “Morning.”