Nemesis (35 page)

“Later,” I said. “Where are–?”

“I’m here, you idiot,” said a familiar voice. I went tense.

Nell stood in the doorway to London. Unhurt. And she swept me into a hug for the first time since I was about five.

Guess it wasn’t really my fault I was in too much shock to return the hug.

“Ada. I’m so, so, sorry.”

And now she was making me cry in front of all these people. “Cheers, Nell,” I muttered. “Is Alber okay?”

“Of course,” said Nell. “He’s with Jeth. Come on. We need to get you home.”

I glanced back at Kay, who leaned against the wall.

“Go with them.” He smiled faintly. “I’ll be all right.”

I nodded. “Don’t you bleed to death on me, you hear?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

***

Nell kept glancing at me, without speaking, as we walked through the disarmingly ordinary-looking London streets. The debriefing session with Ms Weston hadn’t lasted long. She’d told me to come and give a more detailed report in the morning.

Good.
I was far too tired to face questioning from the council. I felt kind of bad for Kay, having to deal with that when he’d almost died.

It was only when we were on the tube home that I remembered to check my communicator. I’d had a message from Ms Weston telling me I had the option to stay at work tomorrow or not, after making my report.

So I had time to make up my mind, then.

Nell still studied me as I put the communicator back in my pocket. “You’re really comfortable with these people?”

“Who? The Alliance? Or Kay?”

“Either.” She frowned. “That young man spoke to me in a way no one’s ever dared to.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“He’s really Walker’s son?”

“Yeah… why?”

Nell shook her head. “The experiments. On children. He… was one of them, wasn’t he?”

I swallowed. “I don’t know the details. I wouldn’t ask. But he’s not on his father’s side.”

“I thought so. I’ve never seen magic like that before.”

“Yeah…” I glanced around. The carriage was empty. “It isn’t the same as what they injected me with. I don’t know why, either. Why’d they do it to me? To make me a shield, or a weapon? Or both?”

A pause. Nell lowered her gaze. “To make you unbreakable. A Royal. To win their war, whatever the cost.” She looked me in the eyes then. “You’ll never have to do that.”

“So what
am
I supposed to do now? Hide out on Earth, scared? Or live my life? It doesn’t matter what they wanted of me, does it? Not now.”

Nell inclined her head. “You’re completely right there.”

“Okay. Is that a go-ahead to carry on working for the Alliance? Because it’s not their fault. What happened… it’s horrible. I’m so angry about it, Nell. I’d have killed those Conners if the centaurs hadn’t got there first.”

I told her everything, from the beginning, and she listened patiently. No comments, though she was used to staying calm in a crisis. Nothing fazed her at all.

When I’d finished, she said, “You can access your potential on high-magic worlds. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “It used to drive me crazy not being able to use it on Earth, but that was before I knew what I could do. You know I’ve always wanted to go offworld, and I still do. With or without magic.”

“I could tell you it’s dangerous,” said Nell. “But I suppose that’s never stopped you before.”

I smiled. “Guess not.”

***

KAY

To say Ms Weston was displeased would be an understatement.

“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?” She glared at me across the desk. At least Markos was here to take half of the effect.

“I did tell you,” I pointed out, biting back a sarcastic retort. “And I left a message. Besides, you insisted upon us attending the ceremony.”

And it looked like it wouldn’t be the last. The narrow escape from destruction had caused the Alliance to order an impromptu meeting of all the worlds’ councils for the first time in years. I didn’t particularly look forward to
that.
Because I had to make a decision about how much to tell them. Someone had been asking about sources. Someone not in the Alliance. I had no way of finding out now the rebels were dead and the Conners were, too, but the Alliance clearly had an enemy. And it was bigger than anything they’d dealt with before.

“Well, at least it all worked out,” said Markos. “Centaurs and humans have never fought alongside one another before. I think Eidora might have to revise her opinion on magic.”

“Her stalling almost got a bunch of people killed,” I muttered. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to debate.

“Kay,” said Ms Weston. “You can’t expect everyone to cave into your every demand.”

“I didn’t demand anything,” I said. “The centaurs and the council chose to come and fight. And when I acted, I was thinking about how Ada’s family were being tortured and the Conners were on the brink of destroying Aglaia. Doesn’t that qualify for an exceptional scenario?” Raj and the other Ambassadors thought so, as did the council, though it was probably only a matter of time before people started asking the wrong questions. Like why the Conners had been on Aglaia. The Valerian Alliance had confiscated some burnt-out magic source Conner used to open that doorway from the Campbells’ place, which Wynn had stolen from West Office. Sounded like Conners had found the Campbells’ records of what they’d used to make the bomb and decided to try it themselves, using their connections on Klathica, the same place those magic-implants had come from.

Though no one had particularly liked any of the Conner family, they’d stirred up a lot of contention. West Office, for one, had started in-depth interrogations of all their staff. Central had already done that, of course, but paranoia was rampant. I just hoped they’d leave Ada alone. She’d been through enough.

“You know it does,” said Ms Weston. “The question, of course, is what drove Conner to pick Aglaia in the first place.”

Her eyes dared me to tell the truth. No, even the council didn’t know about the lustre. Or my boss. I knew better than to let that information slip into the wrong hands, even if Ada had drained the magic from it so it was essentially worthless now. How the Conners even knew about it in the first place was a mystery I’d probably never know the answer to, seeing as the only survivor was Aric, and he was AWOL. Either he’d got stranded on Aglaia, or he’d sneaked back into the Passages while the fighting was going on. I was inclined to believe the latter. He had a price on his head now, anyway.

I couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. Though I did wonder what, exactly, had been in the source he’d been injected with. And his sister. But now the rest of the Conners were dead, there was no way to find out how, exactly, they’d found out about the lustre source.

I shrugged. “It’s contentious. Doesn’t like outsiders.”

“The mages certainly seem to have revised their opinions,” said Ms Weston. “Enough to request a more active role in the Alliance. We certainly need more guidance for our magic-wielders. Now more than ever.”

She meant Ada. Now she’d shown control over her magic, I predicted the Alliance wouldn’t leave well enough alone. The last thing she needed was more magic-related problems. After almost losing her family, again, I was amazed she’d elected to stay.

Because it turned out magic did give you a choice. It didn’t make you a monster. And she’d seen what I was capable of
without
magic, under my own power. What she’d seen had made her look at me in genuine horror.

“Yeah,” I said to Ms Weston. “We do. For sure.”

When she finally dismissed us, I made for the stairs. I had a whole day free to go offworld and do whatever I wanted, and I was determined to put this goddamn mess behind me and master control of that hover bike.

Markos cornered me before I reached the stairs.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell her,” he said, in an undertone.

“Which part? The source? I’m not an idiot. Besides, it’s gone.” Ada had done a hell of a number on it. She’d drained the magic right out of the lustre, rendering it useless. Good job the centaurs had never planned on using it. I doubted they could tell the difference.

“Your magic.”

Of course. He’d noticed. “She’s not a fan of magic-wielders,” I said.

“She knows what you can do?”

“Some of it. I can’t pretend to be an expert. Hell, Earth doesn’t have nearly enough information.”

I’d taken off the earpiece, but I still carried the Chameleon on me, just in case. Technically, I could draw on the magic at any time, though it was partly dependent on the world’s magic level and probably didn’t last forever. And I hadn’t told Ms Weston that, either.

Lustre. Amplifier.

The mage didn’t know. I’d seen him in the battle against the kimaros, fighting alongside the other mages, the other council members. Fighting on
our
side. He’d done nothing to rouse my suspicion, but he’d said Aglaia had enemies. Someone had scared
the centaurs into giving up information on the lustre source to someone from offworld. Whoever could threaten centaurs and magic-wielders alike was an enemy I didn’t want to face.

But right now, offworld politics were out of my hands, as they bloody well should be.

“Yes,” said Markos. “Well, it certainly helped in defending my world.”

“Guess it did. But then, magic caused the problem to begin with, didn’t it?”

“Bloody magic,” he said, “Ada’s over there, by the way.”

I hadn’t seen her come in, though it was fairly early. Ms Weston had insisted on my coming to the office as soon as I’d stopped bleeding everywhere. “Oh, right.”

***

ADA

I glanced up as Kay approached my desk. “You’re all right?” His left arm was bandaged, but he seemed otherwise normal.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was just heading out, but… could we talk a moment?”

My pulse sped up. “Uh… is Ms Weston around?”

“In her office. She won’t come after you yet, don’t worry.”

We found a deserted stretch of corridor. Kay faced me, absently fiddling with the bandage on his arm. “Is your brother okay? And your guardian?”

I winced. “Sort of. I wasn’t sure whether to come in, but there isn’t much I can do.”

“And you?”

“Same as ever.” Except for the new screaming nightmares which would probably be a regular feature of my nights. But I didn’t want to talk about that now. Instead, my mind jumped to something a hundred times more embarrassing. “Uh. What happened in the forest. I wasn’t… completely in control.”

“You don’t need to explain.”

My heart dropped. I’d thought, well, hoped, he might… I didn’t know what I’d hoped.

“I know I’ve said some shitty things. I shouldn’t have taken Aric seriously.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “He had a thing for stirring up trouble.”

“He said… he said you tried to kill him because he found out you were a criminal and a psychopath.”

“What? He really said that? Jesus.” He shook his head. “I have no idea why he’s so obsessed with me. Maybe I should invest in security cameras in case he shows up at my flat.” He didn’t even try to make the sarcasm sound genuine.

“Kay… I don’t care about the crap he said. I know you’re not a psycho.”

He blinked, once. “Right. Good to know.”

Though I’d never really been able to read him, I swore there was something self-mocking in his tone. Had Tara thought of him like that?

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry. I never should have spoken to you like I did. It was unfair. You don’t have to stay here at Central.”

“Now you sound like my brother.” Crap. I didn’t mean to start an argument again, but I didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed in.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you into joining.”

“None of that,” I said. “I made my choice. And I’m sticking with it.”

“The Alliance will keep your family safe, Ada,” he said. “Even if you aren’t working for us. It’s in our mandate. What happened–it shouldn’t have. You’ve no idea–”

“It wasn’t
your
fault.” He tried to protest, and I interrupted. “No, it wasn’t. You think me and my family haven’t risked our lives every day we’ve been on this world? People have attacked me before, you know. And my family. The Conners would have come after us for the bloodrock no matter what, Nell had enough of a reputation for it amongst the shelters.” It was true. Oh, I’d be having words with Ms Weston about why the Conners had been allowed to run around the Passages even after some of them had been arrested, but I wasn’t pinning the whole blame on the Alliance. Even Nell wasn’t.

Wonders would never cease.

“You,” I said, “need to stop blaming yourself.”

“If I do that,” he said, “then tell me what you want from me.”

What? “You’re saying… it’s not going to work. Us.”

“Ada–” He ran a hand through his hair, glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not the most important thing. You should look out for yourself first, and the last thing you need right now is to be around someone like me.”