“I’m really not sure what alternatives you have in mind,” Talisid said. “You violated the Concord in numerous and flagrant ways, even without considering your involvement in Sal Sarque’s murder. Do you really think all that is going to be swept under the rug?”
“I think you’ll make whatever decisions are politically expedient,” I said. “A month ago I was sitting in the Star Chamber and I can assure you that the Council are completely fine with sanctioning breaches of the Concord when it works to their advantage.”
“You are not sitting in the Star Chamber now.”
“No. The ones sitting in the Star Chamber are the seven members of the Senior Council listening in to this conversation.” I paused. “Sorry, did I say seven? I meant six.”
The line went quiet for a second, and when Talisid spoke again, his tone was more cautious. “What are you hoping to achieve from these ‘negotiations’?”
“Right now, I’m still on the Council most-wanted list,” I said. “Which means you keep sending Keepers and hunter teams after me. Which means I have to kill, incapacitate, or avoid them. It’s a nuisance. I’m offering a ceasefire with a view to some sort of permanent treaty.”
“And in return for this you would offer . . . ?”
“I already told you. You stop trying to kill me and I’ll stop trying to kill you.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to do considerably better than that.”
“I’d be happy to discuss terms in more detail,” I said. “I’d be willing to relinquish my place on the Junior Council, for instance. But you’re going to have to end hostilities first.”
“Verus, be realistic.” Talisid was sounding frustrated again. “I want to help you, but you can’t threaten the Council like this. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”
“I’m not threatening them. They’re trying to interrogate and kill me. I’m just responding in kind.”
“You’re one man.”
“Yeah, that was what Sal Sarque thought too.”
There was another silence. “I’ll convey your message to the Council,” Talisid said at last. “However, I strongly suspect that they’re highly unlikely to—”
“You aren’t going to convey anything because they’re listening right now. I already told you to cut the bullshit. Simple answer, please. Yes or no?”
“As I said, I’ll convey your message to the Council.”
“Yes. Or. No.”
“I’m afraid it’s not as simple as—”
I deactivated the focus, held it tightly for a second, then threw it down into the ground as hard as I could. It dug into the dirt and stuck. “Shit!” There was a tree a few steps away; I stalked towards it and kicked it, hard. Pain jolted up my leg. The tree didn’t move.
I stormed up and down, venting my feelings. Stupid, self-righteous assholes! I knew how stretched the Council was—to still be chasing me, they had to be spending manpower they badly needed. What the hell had I done to make them hate me this much?
Okay, I kind of knew the answer to that question.
I shook my head and focused my thoughts on the present. As expected, the Council had several tracking attempts running on me, and I took a few minutes with the fateweaver to sabotage them. Once I was done, I bent down and pulled the communicator out of the dirt, then started the chain of gates that would take me home.
* * *
—
It was late afternoon when I returned to the Hollow. The floating island was peaceful in the yellow-gold light, the sky a deep blue, fading to green. Birds sang in the trees as I followed the path through the woods, the grass rustling under my feet.
Once upon a time, I’d had lots of places where I felt safe. My home in Camden, my safe house in Wales, Arachne’s cave beneath Hampstead Heath. Now the Hollow was all that was left, and calling it safe was overselling it. Shadow realms are hard to track or lay siege to, and the wards we’d placed made it harder still, but if the Council wanted to get in badly enough, they could do it. I’d already had to flee the place once, and only constant vigilance and use of the fateweaver had kept me from having to do so again.
Now that my temper had cooled, I could see that trying to ask for a ceasefire had been stupid. To the Council, I was a criminal and a rogue. I’d thought that Sal Sarque’s death might have shaken them, but I hadn’t considered how it must look to them. As far as they were concerned, it was Richard and Anne who had killed Sarque, not me. I was vastly more dangerous than I had been when they’d attacked me, but they didn’t know that.
So why had it pissed me off so much? Because I didn’t want to be dealing with this. I had Anne’s possession to solve, with Richard in the background. I didn’t want to deal with this shit from the Council as well.
Well, what I wanted didn’t matter. Like it or not, the Council was my enemy, and that wasn’t going to change unless I did something about it.
My cottage in the Hollow is a simple place, not much more than one room with a bed, a chair, and a desk. I made myself some dinner, taking it to the desk by the window to eat alone. The stores in the Hollow had mostly been laid in by Anne, and with her gone I’d been gradually eating my way through them. I needed to get more, but I’d been putting it off—it was one more step towards accepting that she was gone. Once I was done I cleaned the plate, put everything back in the cupboard, and went out to find the Hollow’s other resident.
Karyos was near her tree, sitting cross-legged on the grass. She was studying a small sapling, touching it delicately with the tips of her fingers. She glanced up at my approach, then back down. I sat down on a fallen tree.
Karyos looks like a young girl, with features that are almost human, but not quite. Her skin is a pale gold, and her hair the colour of bark, though both could pass if you don’t look too closely. If you had to guess her age, you might say nine or ten. Her real age is either two weeks or a couple of thousand years, depending on how you count it. We’d been sharing the Hollow for a few weeks, and I was still feeling out how to relate to her.
“How was your day?” I asked.
Karyos shrugged.
I nodded at the sapling. “Making it grow?”
“My tree is alone,” Karyos said. She spoke English fluently, though with an odd accent that didn’t match any country I knew. “There should be a grove.”
“Camouflage or tradition?”
“Both.”
There was a pause. Karyos didn’t look up from her sapling.