Read Taken Online

Authors: Benedict Jacka

Tags: #Fantasy

Taken (17 page)

BOOK: Taken
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I looked up at that. “Huh.”

“It was a good idea,” Talisid said. “Pity it didn’t come to anything.”

“Yes it did. It tells us a lot.”

“How do you mean?”

“If those security cameras were wiped, that means there was something on them they didn’t want us to see,” I said. “If they’d just gated into their room or something they wouldn’t have needed to mess with the recordings.” An image was starting to form in my mind: a shadowy figure walking in the front door, heading up to the room, knocking . . .

“A mage, then?” Talisid said, breaking into my thoughts.

“I’m thinking that way,” I said. “And something else. I saw Morden last night at Tiger’s Palace and he told me Dark apprentices have been disappearing too.”

Talisid frowned. “Really?”

“Do you know if it’s true?”

“I’d heard some rumours, but I hadn’t known how accurate they were. Unfortunately the Dark mages don’t have a centralised organisation as we do. There’s no one representative we could approach to ask questions.”

“Who’s the closest?”

Talisid raised his eyebrows. “Probably Morden.”

“Do you think he’s really trying to stop these attacks? To boost his reputation amongst Dark mages?”

Talisid thought for a second, fork in hand. “It matches his past goals,” he said at last. “But I’m not sure it’s the whole story.”

“What else, then?”

“Well, I was surprised at Morden being at the Tiger’s Palace.” Talisid finished his meal and set down his cutlery with a clink, interlacing his fingers. “Morden and Jagadev are . . . rivals, of sorts. The people you go to see if you want something that Light mages can’t do or won’t. They’ve been competing for years and I’ve always been under the impression there’s bad feeling between them.”

“So what?” I said. “You think the other reason Morden’s doing this is because he thinks it’ll hurt Jagadev?”

“That would be my guess.” The waiter approached, about to ask if we’d like any dessert, but Talisid waved him off.

I thought about it for a second then shook my head in frustration. “But both Jagadev
and
Morden were pointing me towards Fountain Reach. If they want opposite things, how come they’re sending me to the same place?”

“Good question,” Talisid said. “Any idea where to start?”

I tapped a finger on the tablecloth, staring off into the distance with a frown. “I’m going to stick around Anne and Variam,” I said at last. “I don’t know what’s going on with those two but I’ve got the feeling they’re tied into this somehow. Especially Anne. If someone takes another shot at her I’m going to be around for it.”

Talisid nodded and motioned the waiter over, taking out his wallet. “Good luck.”

*  *  *

I
spent a few hours settling affairs in London. First I packed. My flat has a huge selection of equipment, tools, focuses, one-shots, gear, weapons, and miscellaneous stuff I’ve picked up over the years, most of which I never use. It looks like junk, and to be fair it usually is, but it’s worth keeping around for when I need something obscure, fast. That wouldn’t be an option in Fountain Reach—I’d have what I brought with me and nothing more. In the end I left the specialist stuff behind and took a selection of the general-purpose items I use the most—condensers, forcewalls, and a couple of weapons. I hesitated over my mist cloak. I don’t like to carry it unless I really need it—a lot of its effectiveness comes from the fact that most people don’t know that I have it or what it can do—but in the end it was just too useful to leave at home.

Next I wrote a sign saying that the Arcana Emporium would be closed for
renovations and hung it in the window. It felt like I’d been doing that a lot lately. Now that I thought about it, between jobs, trouble, and Luna’s training, it’d been months since I’d put in a full week at the shop.

And after that I went to explain to Sonder that he wasn’t coming.

“But I can help,” Sonder said.

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I want you somewhere else.”

We were standing in the daylight outside the station. “You’re taking Luna,” Sonder objected.

“Luna’s protected. That’s the whole point of her curse.”

“I can take care of myself too,” Sonder said. He had a wounded look, like a dog that had been told it wasn’t going to be taken for a walk.

“Come on, Sonder,” I said. “You think I don’t know that? But every person we bring is an extra risk.”

“What if you need to find out what happened in the mansion?”

“You won’t be able to look into the past inside the walls anyway. Look, this job is investigation, not combat. What we need you for is research, and you can do that more effectively and with less risk from London. There’s a good chance I’ll need your help up there later, but not right now.”

Sonder sighed, though he still didn’t look happy. “What do you need?”

And finally I went to see Arachne.

*  *  *

A
rachne’s home is one of the very few places I feel safe, and as I walked down the tunnel to her cave I turned off my mental radar and let myself relax. I wanted to take the chance to rest: Once I left for Fountain Reach I had the feeling safety was going to be in short supply.

I found Arachne perched over a table, working on something with her four front legs. I dropped down on a sofa with a sigh. “Hey.”

“Hello, Alex,” Arachne said. She didn’t stop working; Arachne never seems to have any trouble making something and carrying on a conversation at the same time. Either she’s had so much practice that it’s automatic, or she’s just really good at multitasking. “How was last night?”

“Well, it wasn’t boring. At least I got a good look at Jagadev’s place.”

“What did you think?”

I was silent for a moment. “Confusing,” I said. “I’ve been to mage balls, but this was different. I’m not sure what was going on.”

“Confusion is Jagadev’s way,” Arachne said. “Shadows and misdirection. Always he keeps his true aims concealed.”

“Do you know why he’d gather so many adepts?” I asked. “Or what he’d be doing with two apprentices like Anne and Variam?”

“No,” Arachne said.

I thought for a second. “Jagadev’s powerful,” I said. “And he’s a magical creature who lives in London.”

“Yes.”

“He must have dealt with the same problems you’ve had.”

“Yes.”

I looked at Arachne. “But you’ve never allied with him.”

Arachne didn’t answer. I wanted to know more, but I didn’t push. The only sound was the click and rustle of Arachne’s tools.

“He offered exactly that,” Arachne said at last. “A long time ago in your years, a short time in mine. He came here to propose an alliance, of information and assistance.” She paused. “I refused.”

I looked at her curiously. “Why?”

“Jagadev is a destroyer,” Arachne said simply. “He holds a grudge against humans. What he seeks is not creation but revenge.”

Arachne fell silent and I sat on the sofa frowning. If that was true, then what was going on between him and Anne and Variam?

“There,” Arachne said, her voice becoming cheerful. “All done!”

I looked over in interest. Arachne had set her tools down and was holding something out to me. I honestly couldn’t tell you how the tools work or what she’d been doing. By mage standards I’m an expert on magic items, but Arachne’s on a completely different level and I don’t understand even the most basic principles of how she can do what she does.

The item looked like a wand, fifteen inches long and slightly tapered so that one end was narrower than the other. A handle was built into the wider end and a small sphere was set at the base of the handle. It had the colour of alabaster or ivory but as I took it from Arachne its texture felt more like silk. “Huh,” I said, turning it over curiously.

“Now be careful when you test it,” Arachne said. “In fact, if I were you I’d make sure to be all the way out of line of sight.”

“I will.” I looked up. “Thanks, Arachne.”

Arachne waved a leg. “Don’t mention it. Just come back safely.”

*  *  *

F
ountain Reach looked very different in the daylight. It was still cold but the sun had come out, taking off the worst of the chill. Puffy clouds floated in a blue sky, with the green hills as a backdrop.

The driveway was crowded with expensive-looking cars and two more pulled past us as we walked in, tyres crunching on the gravel. In the centre of the front courtyard was an elaborate fountain. Statues of young women poured a steady stream of water from a stone urn, while two phoenixes looked on. “What’s that?” Luna asked curiously.

“Fountain of Youth,” I said. “Old mage legend.”

We followed other people into the entry hall, handed Luna’s papers to one of the administrators, and set off into the mansion, up a flight of stairs and then down again. I checked my watch; the opening ceremony was supposed to be starting now. As we reached an intersection I could hear the buzz of activity from ahead of us but couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from. “Which way?” Luna asked.

“Good question.” Fountain Reach’s wards were doing their work and I couldn’t effectively map out a route. I looked around for someone to ask directions from, but all of a sudden the corridors were empty. There was something weirdly deserted about the mansion. The ambient noise made it feel as though there were people all around you, but when you stopped to look you always seemed to be alone.

I picked a direction that I hoped was right and Luna followed. “What’s up with this place?” Luna asked, echoing my own thoughts.

“Not a clue,” I said. “It must have been built for something but I have no idea what.”

We turned a corner and the distant murmurs grew louder. To the right I could see a set of double doors and make out a voice speaking from behind it. More by luck than judgement I’d led Luna back to the same duelling hall in which I’d run into Onyx.

The hall was packed. Close to two hundred men, women, and teenagers were scattered around and I recognised dozens of mages in the crowd. Most were Light, some were unaligned, and a handful were Dark, but for every mage I knew there were two more I didn’t. Some wore ceremonial robes but most of the Light mages, especially those connected with the Council, wore formal business suits. The ones in robes and the ones in suits mixed freely, forming comfortable groups. Other mages . . . didn’t. The ones wearing smart-casual streetwear or anything else unusual were scattered more to the edges of the crowd, away from the “power” groups, as did the ones who by their dress or manner obviously
weren’t
mages.

The apprentices looked much like their masters. There was a little more variety in how they dressed but not much, and it was surprisingly easy to match the apprentice to the mage. I picked out Charles, the apprentice Variam had been matched against two days ago, as well as Luna’s opponent, Natasha. Charles was wearing a blazer and standing next to a white-haired mage who looked exactly like an older copy of him, while Natasha was with another Asian girl. They looked as if they’d been talking but now were turned towards the stage at the end of the room. Following their gaze I saw Crystal on the stage, wearing an elegant-looking two-piece suit. She seemed to have just finished a speech, and now she was reading from a clipboard. “The first elimination round will begin at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” she said, her voice raised to carry over the sounds of the hall. “The draw is as follows. Michael Aran and Charles de Beaumont; Vaya Merrin and Traysia Lacann; Dominica Soria and Fay Wilder; Stephen Jasper and Victor Kraft . . .”

Luna was craning her neck looking around at everyone. “Do you think Anne and Variam are here?”

“Probably. Try and find them.”

“Gunther Elkins and Henry Smith; Desmond Yates and Variam Singh . . .”

“There’s his matchup,” I said.

“There!” Luna said.

I looked where Luna was pointing and saw Anne and Variam behind the rows of chairs. Anne was talking to a younger girl and smiling, while Variam watched them both with a surly look and his arms folded. “Variam doesn’t look happy,” I said.

“Variam’s never happy.”

“Mikhail Baich and Zander Rhys; Natasha Babel and Samantha Vash . . .”

I hadn’t stopped searching, and as I recognised one of the figures my heart sank. “Ah, crap.”

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got trouble. Wait two seconds, then look over your left shoulder. Under those paintings.”

Luna obeyed and saw what I’d saw: a thin figure dressed in black leaning alone against the wall. She sighed. “So we get to deal with him too.”

“. . . and that concludes the pairings,” Crystal finished. “All apprentices not named in those pairings will go through to the second round.” She looked around. “Thank you all and good luck.”

“Wait, did she say my name?” Luna said.

“No,” I said. “Let’s see if we can get out of here before Onyx starts something.”

We started towards one of the exits, moving through the crowd. I recognised the odd mage, but not many; I don’t go to these kind of events often. “Aren’t I on the list?” Luna asked.

“It’s single elimination. There are more than thirty-two entries but fewer than sixty-four, so not everyone is fighting in the first round. The others get—” I stopped with a sigh.

“Going somewhere?” Onyx asked, stepping out in front of us.

I watched Onyx carefully, keeping a close eye on the futures ahead. We were surrounded by the buzz and chatter of conversation and at least twenty people had a clear line of sight to us. I didn’t seriously think Onyx would start something with this many witnesses but got myself ready anyway. “Onyx,” I said. I glanced over at the wall he’d shredded yesterday, then back again. “Seems they’ve made repairs from your last visit.”

“Going to tell them why
you
were here?” Onyx said. He was wearing a black coat and trousers, not modern but not in line with traditional mage gear either. He was smiling and might even have looked friendly if you weren’t paying attention.

“Not just yet,” I said. “Well, it’s great Morden’s sent you here to help but we’re kind of busy. See you around and—”

BOOK: Taken
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

El caso del mago ruso by José María Fernández-Luna
Nightjack by Tom Piccirilli
Gossie Plays Hide and Seek by Olivier Dunrea
Lost Nation by Jeffrey Lent
Aidan by Elizabeth Rose
Husk by Corey Redekop
The Bridge by Robert Knott
Zion by Colin Falconer