Cursed

I sighed. Apparently I’d been optimistic. It wasn’t quite as stupid as it sounds. At the time I’d needed all the help I could get and having a couple more mages who weren’t immediately hostile had done a lot to tip things in my favour. And, odd as it sounds, some Dark mages—not all, but some—do have a sense of honour. They’ll kill you without a second thought but if you help them out they’ll try to return the favour, if only to encourage other people to do the same in the future. I’d known Rachel was way too nuts to be depended on in that way but I’d hoped Cinder might be different.

Thinking of Rachel reminded me of something else. I spoke to Starbreeze, asking her to drop us off on my roof, and she did so cheerfully enough. I gave her something in thanks (she’d already forgotten what I was thanking her for) and watched her vanish into the night.

Meredith wasn’t talking and started to shiver as I brought her down from the roof. I recognised the signs of shock and guided her into my bedroom. She lay down without complaint, and by the time I’d fetched her something to drink she was asleep. Lying on my bed, her hair spread across the quilt, she looked very small and fragile. I looked at her for a little while before spreading a blanket over her and going back into my living room.

For whatever reason, the usual postcombat shakes hadn’t hit. Maybe it was because this time I’d had Starbreeze and Meredith instead of doing everything myself. Or maybe it was because it was the third bloody assassination attempt in twenty-four hours and I was getting desensitised. I turned my attention to Bob the Dead Construct, who was still lying on the carpet where I’d left him yesterday.

Now that I knew what to look for, I found it quickly. The construct wasn’t just similar to the ones I’d seen made in Richard’s mansion; it was identical. More than that, I recognised the style. The magic from the thing had faded but there was enough of a residue to identify the water magic of Rachel, otherwise known as Deleo, a Dark mage, dangerous, powerful, and close to insane. She was Cinder’s partner, but I’d known her longer than he had. After all, we’d been apprenticed to the same master.

There had been four of us, back then: Rachel, Shireen, Tobruk, and me. In the mansion of Richard Drakh we worked together, studied together, lived together. But in the end, there was room for only one. Tobruk died. Shireen died. Rachel won … sort of. She got the power and status she’d always wanted, the position of Richard’s Chosen. But I’m not sure it was worth the price she paid. When next I saw her, she called herself Deleo … and there was very little left of the girl I’d once known.

It was time to get rid of Bob. Constructs don’t biodegrade but even the off chance that Rachel could track the residue was more risk than I was willing to take. First I had to get the construct through a gate stone portal (which was not what the things were designed for) and then I had to bury it at the other end. It took a long time. I don’t have much experience disposing of bodies. I suppose it would be a bit worrying if I did.

I stepped back into my living room, letting the portal close behind me, and dropped onto the sofa, staring at the wall. For the first time I seriously considered taking Garrick’s advice: drop everything, get out, and wait for the dust to settle. I didn’t want to fight Rachel and Cinder. For one thing, they were stronger than me. Meredith and I had thrown everything we had at Cinder tonight and barely slowed him down. One on one, Cinder would take me apart, and Rachel would probably do it even faster.

But if I was being honest, the bigger reason was our history. Rachel and I had never been friends; we’d tolerated each other at best and hated each other at worst. I’d fled Richard once I finally understood what he was, while Rachel had given herself over wholly to his path. But twisted as she was, Rachel was one of the last links to my past—someone once told me that she was what I could have been and they were right. And as far as I knew Cinder was the only person she trusted. The more you know about someone, the harder it is to kill them. I didn’t want to kill Rachel or Cinder, and if I got into a fight without being ready to kill them, there was a good chance they’d kill me.

But if I didn’t do anything, I’d be leaving them free rein with creatures like Arachne.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I hate decisions like this. No matter what I did, bad stuff was going to happen. What I wanted was for Rachel and Cinder and Meredith and Belthas to drop the whole thing and stop trying to kill each other (and stop catching me in the crossfire while they were at it). But I couldn’t make them do that. The only choice left to me was whether to be involved. I studied my phone, thinking how easy it would be to send a message to Belthas telling him I wanted out.