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Authors: Benedict Jacka

BOOK: Veiled
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“What if she just does a cut and run?” Slate said.

“Yeah,” Lizbeth said. “There's no way we can get an interdictor up.”

“If she runs, she runs,” Rain said. “You search the premises and bring back what you can get. But White Rose is pretty entrenched. If I were you, I'd be ready for something else.”

Lizbeth muttered something under her breath. “We at least have somewhere to look?” Slate said.

Rain touched the focus: the image of Vihaela disappeared, to be replaced by a map of London, projected on the whiteboard. Three red dots shone from points on the map: two in the inner city, one a little farther out to the west. “White Rose runs houses at these three locations,” Rain said. “Best guess is that none of them are going to have
anything too illegal on the premises. However, from what we've been able to gather, all three houses have a transport focus, probably a freestanding gate. The gates all link back to White Rose's primary base of operations.”

“So where's that?” Slate said.

“They move it,” Rain said. “Last known location was a warehouse in Manchester, but it's been abandoned. Rumour is they went out to some new location in the country. Wherever it is, that's where their holding and training facilities are. Vihaela will be there.”

The Keepers started talking and the subject of the briefing switched to personnel and resources. Slate wanted more; Rain was telling him no. I listened with half an ear, studying the other mages in the room out of the corner of my eye. Slate, Trask, and Lizbeth seemed to have forgotten about me, at least for now. They were the most involved, and despite their complaints, the most committed. Abeyance was staying out of it, her stance indicating that this was Keeper business. Coatl was sprawled back on his chair, cleaning his ear with his little finger. Cerulean hadn't said a word. Haken was the one I was most curious about: he was silent, occasionally chipping in to the argument but mostly listening. He didn't look happy, and I had the feeling that it was because of the time limit.

“All right,” Rain said at last. “You've got your tasks; let's get to it. Haken, I want to be kept in the loop on this. Hourly reports and you don't deviate from the brief without clearing it with me.”

Haken nodded. Rain took the rod from the projector and walked outside.

“Can you believe this?” Lizbeth said as soon as the door shut. “This is such bullshit . . .”

Haken was staring at the door. “Everything okay?” I asked quietly.

Haken got to his feet. “I'm going to have to make some calls. I'll meet you downstairs.” He headed out. Glancing over, I saw that the other Keepers were still arguing. I got up and made an unobtrusive exit.

I left the room to see Haken turning the corner. Scanning
the futures, I saw him slip through a door and . . .
damn
. It had locked behind him. I could have easily picked the lock, but not in a building full of Keepers. What was Haken up to?

I felt a familiar presence behind me and turned to see Caldera. She was at the door leading to the stairwell, and she was arguing with Rain. With an annoyed glance back to where Haken had vanished, I headed towards them.

“. . . not an option,” Rain was saying as I came into earshot.

“I'm fine,” Caldera said. “The doctor said I was in good shape.”

“I've got Dr. Cazriel's report on my desk,” Rain said. “He prescribed a minimum of forty-eight hours before you'd be ready for light duty. Four days before any combat ops.”

“That's bullshit. I can still—”

“The answer is no,” Rain said. “I am not going on record as sending you on a combat mission against direct medical instruction.”

“You need all the help you can get.”

“There are six Keepers on this already. We've got enough hitting power.”

“It's my case,” Caldera argued. “I've got the background—”

“And your reports have been filed. You're already the Keeper of record for the Pudding Mill Lane investigation. You'll get the credit.”

“Fuck the credit! I want to be there.”

Rain gave her a steady look. “Go home, Caldera.” He glanced at me, then turned and headed through the door.

Caldera glared after him, looked like she was about to start swearing, then looked at me and visibly ground her teeth. “Bad day?” I said.

“No shit.” Caldera took a deep breath. “You're going?”

I nodded. “I don't know most of the team. Anything you can tell me?”

Caldera moved to one side, out of the way of a pair of men walking past. “Who've you got?”

“Haken, Slate, Trask, Lizbeth. Two others called
Cerulean and Coatl. And a time mage auxiliary called Abeyance.”

“Yeah, I've worked with Abeyance,” Caldera said. “She knows what she's doing. Slate you know. He's an arsehole, but at least he's not bent. Lizbeth's a bitch, don't turn your back on her.”

“The others?”

“Trask is Slate's partner: he's smarter than Slate and he'll back him up. Coatl's a long-timer. Not as dumb as he looks. Cerulean I don't know, he's a transfer from Order of the Cloak. And Haken's Haken.”

“Cool. Who are they working for?”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm guessing that at least half the team are in the pay of or onside with someone who's not the Keepers.” I didn't lower my voice, but I'd already checked around us to make sure that no one else was within earshot. “Do you know who's with who?”

Caldera looked away.

“I'm just saying it'd help.”

“They work for the Keepers.” There was a definite warning note in Caldera's voice.

“Officially.”

“Verus.”
Caldera gave me a look. “This doesn't help. Okay?”

“I'm not sure if you quite understand the difference in our respective positions.” I kept my voice calm and didn't look away. “You're a Keeper and a Light mage. I'm not. So given that I'm about to go off on a mission with a group of people whose collective objectives might include disposing of me, then yes, I'd say that knowing exactly who they're working for would
very much
help.”

We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Two more people passed by, skirting around us to head through the door and down the stairs. Caldera was the first one to look away, but she still didn't answer.

“Okay,” I said. “How about a compromise? I'll head off to work and do my job. You stay on standby. If things don't
go to plan and some of these guys turn out not to be so friendly, you can back me up.”

“I'm not cleared for active duty.”

“Thought you just said you were fine.”

Caldera gave me a narrow look. “You're trying to get me to pull this too?”

Voices sounded from the corridor behind us. I looked back to see the Keepers coming out of the room: Haken and Lizbeth, Slate and Trask, Cerulean and Coatl, Abeyance on her own at the back. “Think it over,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

The other Keepers caught us up. I let them pass before falling in behind, leaving Caldera up on the landing as I followed the group down the stairs.

|  |  |  |  |  |  |  |  |

W
e geared up, moved out, and began gathering information. Hours passed, and afternoon became evening.

Sunset found me in Bank, right in the heart of the City. If you're not connected to the London finance industry, then Bank is one of those districts that you pass through without stopping in, a strange place of towering walls and narrow streets, where buildings a hundred years old house newly furnished offices. There's not much to see from the outside, just dingy stone frontings with faded nameplates. Tucked away around the corners are the sort of pubs where you pay for a drink and a burger with a twenty-pound note, filled with men in suits talking office politics and going outside to smoke. Around one of those corners was a plain black van.

I sat inside the van, eyes closed, and I path-walked. Every future began the same way, with me getting up, opening the rear doors, and heading left. From there they diverged. My future selves were meant to turn left, go right down the alley, and make their way into an unmarked door on an unmarked building about halfway down. It had been easier earlier in the afternoon, when everyone was still at work. Now the skies were going a dusky grey and the streets were filling up with bankers and stockbrokers and all the people who
worked for them. The people on the streets kept disrupting my path-walking, breaking the delicate chain and forcing me to retrace my steps and start again.

I'd just made it into the building when the future thread splintered and broke for the umpteenth time. I went back, sent my future self out the doors again, saw him stop. Conversation; someone I knew. I looked to see who it was, then opened my eyes, coming out of my trance.

The van doors opened, letting in grey twilight and car exhaust. Abeyance ducked her head and stepped inside. I reached over to pull the door shut behind her.

“Hey, baby!” Coatl said with a grin. He and I were the only ones in the van's rear compartment: the security men were in the front cabin. “How's the view out there?”

“Dull,” Abeyance said. She glanced around. “Where's Haken?”

“Vanished again,” I said. I'd tried to shadow Haken with my divination, but he was being careful and I'd lost him in the crowds. “Did you see Vihaela?”

Abeyance frowned. “He should be here for this.”

I didn't answer. “No sign of her,” Abeyance said. “Any movement on your end?”

“Pretty sure they didn't spot you.” In her dark blue business jacket and skirt, Abeyance fitted into the area perfectly. Like most passive senses, timesight doesn't show up to magical detection.

Coatl laughed. “You think she doesn't know we're coming?”

Abeyance turned to him. The two of them made a strange pair: Coatl, fat, bearded, and balding, sprawled out over two seats, and Abeyance, slim and straight-backed and slightly prim, looking at Coatl with her mouth turned down in disapproval. Briefly I wondered how they saw me. Maybe to them, I seemed even weirder.

“Is there something you're not telling us?” Abeyance said.

“You know what they say,” Coatl said. “Two people can keep a secret if one's dead.” He grinned. “The Council
knows, the eight of us know, the ones who briefed Rain know. Just a matter of time.”

“Presumably that's why Rain's ordered us to do it by tonight,” Abeyance said.

“What makes you think it's not one of us?”

Abeyance sighed. “This is pointless.” She glanced at me. “If I stay here and don't talk or move, can you find out when Haken's going to be back?”

I nodded. Abeyance was as good as her word and to my surprise, Coatl didn't do anything to disrupt the path-walk either. After a few seconds I looked up. “He should be here in five minutes.”

Five minutes and twenty seconds later, the door swung open and Haken stuck his head in, looking at Abeyance. “What's the score?”

“No sign of Vihaela,” Abeyance said. “At least, not from the front. Plenty of traffic in and out, but as far as I can tell they're all normals or sensitives.”

“The front entrance is for their regular clients,” I said. “The mages aren't going to walk in off the street.”

“But it's definitely active?”

“The evidence would suggest that, but I can't confirm it without going inside.”

Haken looked at me.

“It's locked down pretty tight,” I said. “I haven't identified anyone yet.”

“I've already scanned the easily accessible periods,” Abeyance said. “The problem is the location. If you want more useful information, I'll need to be inside.”

Haken nodded. “I'm calling in the other teams. Get suited up.” He disappeared again.

|  |  |  |  |  |  |  |  |

T
he van took us to a nearby building. Although mages can theoretically just gate around London wherever they choose, in practice familiarity and the need for secrecy act as limits. Partly for that reason, the Council has a network of properties around London and England that can be used
as transport nodes. This one was an office block—scanning it, the rest of the occupants seemed to be regular business folk, but one of the floors was empty except for us. The Council would own or rent it, and would leave it unused when it wasn't needed, which was a reminder of just how enormous their resources were. London's one of the most expensive cities in the world, yet the Council can afford to leave a place sitting empty just on the off chance that it might be used. When you have that kind of money, it gives you a lot of options.

The floor was an open-plan office, scattered tables and benches, and it was busy. Men in black fatigues were standing around in knots, talking or unpacking things from long bags. Their clothes were dark and nondescript, with no insignias or logos, but there was no hiding the black body armour or the guns at their belts. These were Council security, the guards and foot soldiers of the Light mages. If mage battles are a chess game, these guys are the pawns. The jobs that Council security do put them up against everything from Dark mages to magical predators to unlicensed constructs. Sometimes those guns they carry do them some good. Other times, they're about as effective as thrown rocks. It's a hard job, and it breeds hard men.

The Keepers were standing around a flimsy table at the centre of the floor, talking quietly amongst themselves. Everyone else was there already; we were the last. “Hey, hey!” Coatl called out as we walked over. “Where's the bar?”

Haken ignored Coatl. “The Order of the Shield aren't an option,” he was saying. “Council wants this low-key.”

“Right,” Lizbeth said sarcastically. “The one time those nuts would be useful and we're not allowed to call them in?”

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