while, looking out into the night, before I turned and returned to bed.
11
A lot of people think of captivity as something glamorous, but the truth is, being a prisoner is mostly just boring. No matter how sadistic the guy in control of you, he can’t focus on you twenty-four hours a day. He’s got other things to do and, while he’s busy, you’re going to be sitting alone. After a few weeks, it can get to the point where you almost welcome a visit, just for a little human interaction. When I’d been Richard’s prisoner I’d passed the time by practising divination; I couldn’t reach outside the walls, but I got to know every square inch of that room. I learned some weird skills that way. Even now I can pick up anything from a pencil to a tennis ball and hit a target first time, every time, looking into the future to see exactly how I need to make the throw. If I ever give up being a diviner, I can always make a living playing darts.
So the following day as Morden’s ‘guest’ was just like old times. The door to my room wasn’t locked but I didn’t go wandering; I didn’t want to ruffle any feathers. Instead I sat in the chair with a book, and anyone watching would have seen me barely move all day except to turn a page.
But just because I wasn’t moving didn’t mean I wasn’t busy. Within two hours of sitting in that chair I knew the entire layout of Morden’s mansion, everything from the basement to the attic. My future selves roamed through the mansion, wandering, exploring, trying things, and everything they learned, I learned – everything from how the food was prepared in the kitchen to what would happen if you pulled the levers on the first floor. By noon I’d discovered four routes by which I could escape the mansion (with varying probabilities of success once I got outside), five places in which I could hide with little chance of detection (in the short term, anyway), two ways in which I could set off a small civil war between the mansion’s various inhabitants (for the record, in all the futures I saw, Morden’s side won), one way to destroy the mansion completely along with most of the people inside it (including me, unfortunately), a way to cause the mansion and most of the surrounding countryside to be overrun with intelligent giant badgers (don’t ask), and one half of a process for creating crystals capable of absorbing cold-and ice-based magic (which would be very useful if I had a spare couple of weeks and if I were worried about being attacked by an ice mage, neither of which was true).
That’s the thing about being a diviner. You learn a vast amount of information, of which ninety-five per cent is completely useless.
Anyway, it was the people I was interested in. It didn’t take me long to confirm that Cinder and Khazad were here with Rachel, confined in the west wing. Lisa was there too, recovered enough to be able to move around. In a few of the futures, I tried to talk to Lisa; she avoided me or fled. Morden’s message about disloyalty had sunk in. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. It’s one thing to know why most slaves of Dark mages stay that way; it’s another to watch it happen.
But despite everything, I was as focused as I’d ever been. For years I’d been trying to forget my time as Richard’s apprentice, locking it up and burying it deep in my memory. The journey through Elsewhere had shattered that, bringing it all back – but now that I’d faced it, I found to my surprise that the fear had been worse than the reality. It had hurt, yes, but it had been like cleaning out an old wound, and as I looked back I realised that it didn’t scare me the way it once had. I’d gotten stronger since then.
Onyx came into my room in the late afternoon. His cold eyes rested on me as he dropped something onto the table with a
The item on the table was a bracelet, made of some kind of black metal. I took a second to look at the consequences of saying no, then picked the thing up and locked it around my right wrist. The metal had an ugly, unpleasant feel to it, but it vanished as soon as it snapped shut.
Onyx waited a second, then flicked a finger. The bracelet flared with black energy, and a bolt of terrible agony shot up my arm, locking my muscles, like an electrical shock but worse. I lost my breath in a gasp and went down to one knee with a thud. My heart raced, and I took several deep breaths before looking up shakily at Onyx, steadying myself with one hand on the floor.
‘Higher levels cripple or kill,’ Onyx said. ‘Want to see?’
I took a breath. ‘No, thanks,’ I said, my voice hoarse.
‘We leave in two hours,’ Onyx said. He turned and left.
I waited for his footsteps to fade away, then dropped the act, returned to the chair, and started work on the bracelet. It was the same design Richard had used, which made things simple. Once I was finished, I settled down to wait.
The sun was dipping towards the horizon when Onyx returned. He jerked his head in a command to follow, and I obeyed.
The morning room was wide, with one whole wall made entirely out of French windows that looked out onto the flowers of the garden. The light of the setting sun streamed in, mixing with the reflection off the leaves to light the wooden floor in yellow and gold. A table stood in the middle of the room, covered with maps. Morden was behind it, and standing in front, in a sullen group, were Cinder, Rachel and Khazad. Cinder and Khazad glowered at me; Deleo/Rachel didn’t. Lisa and Morden’s other slave girl (whose name I’d learned was Selene) stood at opposite ends of the room, their eyes cast down submissively. Onyx walked to Morden’s side and gestured for me to stand with the others. I took up a position next to the table, a carefully judged distance away from Rachel.
‘Tonight at sunset, the five of you will enter the relic and recover the fateweaver,’ Morden said without preamble once we were around the table. Now that the pecking order had been established, he didn’t waste time on pleasantries. ‘Onyx will be in command; you will obey him absolutely. Any disagreements are to be put aside as long as you work for me.’ He looked between us. ‘Do you have any objections? Cinder? Deleo? Verus? Khazad?’
Onyx’s eyes glinted as he watched us. I shook my head slightly and saw the others do the same. Rachel was holding quite still and I noticed that she was wearing a black metal bracelet similar to mine, along with Cinder and Khazad. It was the first time I’d seen the two of them since we were captured, and both looked battered and sullen. Cinder seemed subdued and didn’t react, but as Khazad caught me looking at them he shot me a hate-filled glance. I turned back to Morden, thinking as I did that it couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys.
‘We expect moderate resistance at the museum,’ Morden was saying. ‘Avoid unnecessary casualties, but entering is your priority. Once you’ve reached the statue, Verus,’ he nodded to me, ‘will open it. Show them the key, please.’
Everyone’s eyes were on me as I slowly reached into my pocket and produced the crystal cube. It sat quietly in the palm of my hand, the sparks glinting in its depths. Cinder’s eyes were hungry, as were Khazad’s. Rachel’s were calculating. ‘The rest of you will set up a perimeter until the door is open,’ Morden continued. ‘Should Verus fail, Onyx will employ a contingency plan.’
