“You haven’t heard from the Spirit Agents?” she asked.
“Not yet, but I doubt they want to get involved in House drama,” I said.
The Spirit Agents were independent mages allied to the Death King, since there were only Houses for the other four elements and not the spirit mages. I was pretty sure they’d want to know about the Death King sending me to the House of Fire, but I hadn’t lied when I’d said it was a waste of time. I’d go there, they’d shut the door in my face, and then I’d find something else to do instead after risking my dignity and my new job—not to mention the safety that came with it. As safe as it was possible to be in a castle of the dead, anyway.
As there was no sense in delaying, I checked I had enough cantrips on me and claimed a sword from the castle armoury. Then I walked out of the gates in front of the castle and headed for the gleaming node which stood alone in the swampland like a geyser of pure white light. when I stepped into the midst of the current of energy, the light soared above my head and blanketed the castle in a pale glow. In my mind’s eye, I fixed an image of the city of Elysium, my former home, and the location of both the Spirit Agents and the Houses of the Elements.
The swamp vanished in a flash of light, and I reappeared in a narrow alleyway. As the largest city in the part of the Parallel which overlapped with the UK, Elysium had been hit hard by the war thirty-odd years ago, and large parts of it had been destroyed and rebuilt. The four Houses were placed at intervals at each corner of a square in the very heart of the city, facing outwards as though the people who’d built them had intentionally wanted to avoid anyone having to look directly at the former Citadel of the Elements. I kept one eye on the towering obsidian shape as I made my way around the warren of streets until I found the right building.
The House of Fire stood on the southwest corner of the square, its bricks scorched with burn marks from escaped prisoners. A formidable structure several storeys high, it held several underground dungeons in addition to the floors above the surface. On the other side of the nodes dividing the two realms, London had a robust underground transport system. What did Elysium get? High-security prisons for mages who stepped out of line or otherwise ticked off the authorities. I’d done more than step out of line, though. I’d danced over the line a thousand times and even then, prison had been safer than where I’d grown up. That was partly why I’d stayed here in Elysium after walking free, and why I felt little fear that I’d find myself caged again. My old haunts had been miles north of here, and besides, nobody would be able to legally arrest me now I worked for the Court of the Dead.
Didn’t stop apprehension from locking around my chest as I walked up to the crimson door of the House of Fire and knocked. My heart hammered against my ribcage, old instincts urging me to get away, and I found myself wishing I’d persuaded Harper to come with me. As a lich, the guards would never have recognised her unless she spoke. But me? Everyone in this building knew my name.
Sure enough, the man who answered the door narrowed his eyes in recognition. “I know you. I never forget a face.”
I hadn’t forgotten his, either. Harris, security guard for the House of Fire and royal pain in the arse. Squat, flat-faced and with enough grease in his hair to put on a barbecue, he regarded me as though he’d happened upon a giant spider he wanted to crush beneath the heel of his boot.
“Good for you,” I said. “The Death King sent me. I’m here as his official Fire Element.”
“And I’m a vampire lord.”
Ha ha. I showed him the skull symbol imprinted on my crimson-lined cloak. “See that? It’s his logo.”
“What poor sap did you steal that from?”
“Wasn’t the former Fire Element once an inmate here before the Death King hired him?” I queried. “Is it hard to believe I followed in his path?”
The last Fire Element, Davies, had been saved from imprisonment in the House of Fire by the Death King, and had then thrown it back in his master’s face and betrayed him. For all I knew, maybe this was a kind of test to ensure I wouldn’t do the same.
“You’re not even a proper mage,” he said. “You’re a freak.”
Anger stirred, but I met his stare. “I wanted to talk to someone inside the House of Fire about a matter of importance to the Death King.”
“It better be bloody important, then,” he said. “Someone was murdered today. Nobody is allowed in.”
“Murdered?” I echoed. “Who?”
Not an inmate, surely. They didn’t exactly value their prisoners highly, especially people like me.
He tilted his head. “Weren’t you friends with that Tay girl? The one with the exploding magic?”
I tensed. “What of it?”
He gave a cold laugh. “She’s the one that done it.”
My blood turned to ice. “What? Tay didn’t do anything.”
“I beg to differ.” He leaned on the door frame, a leer twisting his mouth. “She’s the main suspect. She was found at the scene of the crime.”
“There has to be a mistake.” I took a step towards the door. “Can you let me in? I’ll talk to the man in charge. Maybe—”
“The man in charge is the one who
