Where Light Meets Shadow (21 page)

Gray stepped
away from the bar, toward the dark mages. Eric smiled, raised his hand, and
sent magefire streaking, not toward the lieutenant, but toward the unshielded
Mundane
bartender.

Civilians
screamed, ran, ducked under tables as the lieutenant dived to protect the
bartender, taking the hit on his personal shields. He landed hard, tangled in
toppled barstools. The protégé’s magefire struck before he had time to recover
and defend.

Confuse-misdirect,
attack!
Cass’
reaction was swift, instinctual,
and effective. Something to draw him away from the lieutenant and from the
Mundane
bartender. Attack while he was still off-balance.

Zack’s magefire
joined hers a half-second later, strengthening the attack. Eric staggered back,
singed even through his powerful shields.

Magic and
adrenaline twined in her soul, heady and exhilarating. She struck again, and
Eric fell back against a table with the impact.

Jackie would be
out of the fight— the anti-teleport ward was her specialty, but it was an
exhausting magic. Her partner’s spell-lightning flashed against the protégé’s
shields, once and twice. The lieutenant got to his feet and hit Eric with an impressive
volley of magefire.

Clearly hurting,
Eric looked frantically from Guardian to Guardian. He couldn’t have planned on
finding himself outnumbered two-to-one when he stepped out for an evening of
mayhem. He would need only a moment’s clear focus to rid himself of
the confuse
-misdirect. They weren’t about to give him that
moment.

Zack’s magefire
joined hers again, blistering Eric though his weakened shields.

“Bryan, the
ward!”  Eric shouted.

Eric’s protégé
closed his eyes in concentration. Cass felt the teleportation ward shudder and
give way. Eric faded out and was gone. The ward snapped back into place, and
Bryan stood alone among the Guardians, panting with exertion, eyes wild with
fear.

Cass regarded
the young man with some amount of reluctant admiration. Raven had taught her
how to open a hole in a teleportation ward, but it was not a common skill, nor
one easily mastered. And Bryan had willingly stranded himself to win Eric’s
freedom.

Blivy’s Paradox
said that one could not simultaneously hold open a teleportation ward and
teleport oneself.

The loyal little
idiot held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

The lieutenant
nodded to Jackie. She and her partner stepped up, one on either side of the
protégé, and grabbed the man by his arms. Bryan stiffened and paled. He had to
have expected
the  magic
-dampening charm effected
by their touch, but no mage could truly prepare for the terrifying and
disorienting reality of being cut off from magic.

Jackie let the
teleportation ward drop. She and her partner teleported away with their
prisoner. Safer to teleport than to invite a rescue attempt in the time it took
to use another mode of transport, and all Guardians had enough familiarity with
Guardian Central to make such a short-distance transport easily, especially
with two Guardians to share the burden of the prisoner.

The burnt-match
smell of magefire and the thunderstorm scent of spell lightning filled the
room. The lieutenant slumped back against the bar, pain writ clear on his face.
The V of his unbuttoned collar revealed blistered and reddened skin where the
heat of magefire had made it through his shields. When the adrenalin wore off,
he’d be in a world of hurt.

Cass went to his
side. “Sir, are you all right?”

“Mostly,” he
replied. “And mostly thanks to you. Brilliant bit of creative
spellwork
today. What gave you the idea to piggy-back a
confusion spell with a misdirection?”

Raven had taught
her. It was his own invention.

Cass shrugged.
“I improvised.”

She held her
breath, waiting for his reaction. Nothing she’d done today had been dark, but
nothing that wasn’t time-honored could quite be trusted in her world. Small
wonder they’d had so little success in combating William.

“Good job,
Greensdowne.”

It was the first
time she’d gotten a compliment from a superior officer. “Thank you, sir.”

“Care to
improvise some healing, here?” Gray gave her a faint smile. “I hear you’re
fairly good at it.”

Cass, in fact,
had been top of her class on the Healer’s Aptitude test as well as the Guardian’s
Aptitude Test and could have gone to either academy. But that had been years
ago. Her only formal training, apart from some basic field healing and some
tricks Raven had shown her, ended with General Academy. She felt her shoulders
straighten. “Sir, shouldn’t you be going to the hospital?”

“Later. Just
patch me up enough that I can make nice with the Mundanes and the Craft.”

She finally
noticed the frightened, murmuring crowd huddled at the far end of the dance
floor. A siren wailed in the distance. Someone had called the
Mundane
cops.

At least they
hadn’t gotten there before the situation was under control. The Guardians would
have to cross-file reports anyway, since the incident involved Mundanes and
Craft as well, at least as witnesses. But every now and then cops forgot that
guns and magic didn’t mix, bystanders got shot, the Art got blamed, and the
Joint Council got unhappy.

Even though Eric
had escaped, they had got off lightly. Eric had been startled and unprepared.
The evening could have turned out way, way worse than it had. Now they only had
to convince the press and the
Mundane
cops of that.

Cass closed her
eyes, took a few deep, centering breaths, and found the gentle, sweet light of
healing magic deep within her core. So different from the blazing bright fire
of battle magic, yet intoxicating in its own way, it calmed the last of the
fight-or-flight rush in her blood.

She laid her
hands gently over the lieutenant’s injuries, and let the healing flow into him,
easing the pain of his injuries and starting the healing process.

“Good enough,
for now,” the lieutenant said after a moment.

She loved the
after-effects of healing. It left her tired, yes, but it was a good tired, a
peaceful tired. She might need that calmness when their
Mundane
colleagues arrived.

Sure enough, the
Mundane
police burst in with guns drawn.

Gray took
charge. “It’s all right, stand down. We got it under control, dark mage’s in
custody. Your department will be getting the full report in the morning.”

“Gray.” One of
the uniformed men saluted briefly. “Stand down, guys.” He raised a hand and
turned back to the lieutenant. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

The band, gods
bless them, followed the ancient law of
musiciandom
—
music continued as contracted so long as there was no imminent threat of bodily
harm. They started into a soft, soothing ballad that helped calm and distract
the crowd.

“Listen, Stone,”
Gray said. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more private?”

The blonde
bartender was only too glad to let them continue their discussion in the
Crossroads’ business office. By the way she now looked at Gray, Cass suspected
her lieutenant might be getting lucky after all.

Zack and the
other
Mundane
cop were assigned to get statements from
the crowd, which left Cass to follow Gray.

In the brighter
lighting of the office, Stone finally recognized her.

“Good god, is
that really Corwyn Ravenscroft’s—
apprentice
?” The way he said
‘apprentice’ implied another word entirely. “You expect me to talk in front of
her
?”

“Cassandra
Greensdown
was
Raven’s apprentice, yes.” Gray nodded
grimly. “She’s also the one who gave us the information to finally put out a
warrant on the bastard.”

The lieutenant
was defending her? Gratitude surged through her.
Gray’d
probably get hell for it later. The captain agreed with the
Mundane
police.

“Little good it
did you.” Stone’s lip curled. “Three years and he’s still snug and safe with
William. You haven’t touched him yet, either.”

“If your people
think you can do a better job bringing them in, be my guest.” Gray gave Stone a
cool look. “The attacks on
Mundane
civilians are meant
to destabilize the Three Communities. Arguing among ourselves is just playing
into William’s plan.”

“And your little
Guardian would know about William’s plan, wouldn’t she?” Stone’s lip curled.
“Tell me, is she screwing you like she screwed Raven?”

Cass grabbed her
lieutenant before he could go after Stone. Too bad she couldn’t let him hit the
bastard but it would make the situation even worse. Was Gray offended for her
sake or his own? Best not ask questions she didn’t want answered.

Stone was just
scared, she told herself as Gray stood
beside
her,
breathing hard.  William’s plan was working all too well. Mundanes knew
his agenda, knew they would be effectively disenfranchised under it, and it
made some of them wary of all mages. William was determined to show everyone
that nobody could protect the Three Communities from him, should his right to
rule not be acknowledged. If she had to swallow her pride to defeat him, so be
it. “Sir, if it makes things easier, I can go help Zack.”

Gray nodded. “Go
then.”

“Your aunt may
be a hero of the last Mage Wars,” Stone said to her back. “But you will never
be anything more than a dark mage’s flavor-of-the-week. Doesn’t matter that
your aunt got the rest of the Joint Council to intervene on your behalf. You’ll
never be trusted here, Greensdowne.”

“What happened?”
Zack asked her when she joined him.

“The usual. I’m
so damned sick of—”

The nearest civilians
looked over. She hadn’t realized she’d been that loud.

“You should ask
the captain for reassignment,” she continued in a lowered voice. “You’re never
going to get to work on anything of worth so long as you’re partnered with me.”

Zack shook his head.
“Why would I want another partner? I’ve already got one of the most talented
mages of our generation. Easy on the eyes, too.”

She felt herself
flush. “It’s not my talent that’s in question.”

“I know.” Zack
took a sip from his beer. “It’ll get better.”

Cass nodded, too
grateful for his sympathy to argue despite her doubts of his optimistic
assessment.

 
II

It was nearly
two in the morning before they were done taking statements and soothing the
ruffled nerves of the bar owner who arrived shortly after the police. Zack
offered to walk her home.

“And who will
walk you home?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

Zack conceded
the point. In terms of magic she was the stronger of the two of them, and they
both knew it.

She stepped out
of the noisy, too-warm bar and into the cool autumn night. Soft, warm rain
misted her face, welcome on her flushed skin. White-trimmed brick houses lined
the street, bouncing echoes from each step of her boots. A slight breeze
rustled the leaves scattered along the sidewalk. Cass breathed deep, filling
her lungs with the wild, sweet scent of fall. She could hear the hum of the
Mundanes’ cars on the distant highway.

It was only a
block to her flat, too close to waste the energy of teleporting after the night
she’d had.

It was late to
be a woman walking alone through an empty street, but she lived in a good
neighborhood. And as she told Zack, she could take care of herself.

She had been
more cautious the first year after she left Raven, afraid William would target
her. Or that Raven would, although she could not quite make herself believe
he’d do that, even then. But they had not come after her.

She didn’t know
whether to be relieved or insulted.

She reached the
Victorian façade of her own building and turned down the narrow alley to the
side door that led to her flat. She dug in her purse for the keys to the
exterior security door.

“Cassandra.” The
black velvet voice came out of the shadows; for a moment she thought that it
had come from her memory.

What was that
old story they’d told each other as girls to scare each other at slumber
parties? The one about the demon that appeared when you spoke his name? Except
she hadn’t said it out loud.

Corwyn
Ravenscroft. Raven.

He glided
forward. She stood, frozen in place. He looked much the same as he had when
she’d last seen him, collar-length hair framing his face in long, black waves,
a face that might have seemed too delicate were not the high, fragile
cheekbones set off by a long,
raptor’s
nose and onyx
eyes. He stood close enough now that she could catch the scent on his fine-cut
black clothes, the long wool coat, unbuttoned, that would swirl if he turned
sharply, the loosely pleated poet’s shirt that might look feminine on another
man.

The scent was
familiar: smoky-musky and spicy-sweet with hints of sandalwood and myrrh, the
scent of the incense they had used as a focus when they worked together. Her
breath caught in her throat. She had forgotten how elegant he was, how
handsome. She hated him now for her body’s visceral reaction to his voice, his
presence.

“A moment of
your time, if I may.”

Polite, Raven
was always polite, but then so was William, his master. Chillingly polite.

“I gave you
three years of my life,” she said. “I would think that was more than enough.”

She stepped
closer to the door, but she still did not have her keys to hand, and she would
not take her eyes off him to look for them. Not that she really feared him, but
she knew that she should.

Her heart
pounded wildly but not in fear. She could not put a name to the
stomach-churning whirl of confused adrenalin that gripped her, but it wasn’t
fear.

“You are bitter,
my Firecat. You have every reason to be.”

“Don’t call me
that,” she snapped. “You have no right.”

A better
Guardian might have attempted an arrest, but she knew too well their relative
strengths.  At the least, she should leave.

She had fought
for three years to live down her past. If she were seen with Raven, any headway
she’d made would be destroyed.

The wind gusted,
and now that she was no longer walking, the rain felt less pleasant. She
shivered.

Though she was
exhausted, teleportation was a simple enough magic if one was as familiar with
the end point as she was her flat. And he’d never been there, so he would not
be able to follow unless she willingly let him use her as an anchor.

Still she
stayed, held by his eyes, his voice,
her
memories.

“I’ve wronged
you.” He took a deep breath. “And I’ve done worse to so many, in William’s
name.”

Ye gods. She
could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever admitted he was wrong
about something— one hand, with fingers left over.

“I want out,
Cassandra,” he continued. “I need your help.”

The tension of
the moment combined with the ridiculousness of hearing these words from Corwyn
Ravenscroft. Laughter bubbled up from her chest, and escaped her pressed lips.

Clearly, this
was not the reaction he expected. His shoulders stiffened, and he drew himself
up.

“I’m sorry,” she
choked out. “I don’t mean to laugh at you. But really,” she continued, trying
to keep her voice steady. “Was this William’s idea, or yours? Because I
honestly thought you had at least some respect for my intelligence.”

He frowned. “You
don’t believe me.”

“Did you expect
me to?”

She glanced down
the alley. Still empty, except for mist, and two dumpsters, one for garbage,
one for recycling, fresh-painted and neatly labeled by the building super. In
the quiet night she would have heard anyone approaching, but she still had to
check. Cass couldn’t say what she was checking for. A trap from his side?
Someone from her side, to see her talking to Raven? Either would be dangerous
in different ways.

“
If
you
were telling the truth— and I don’t for a minute think you are— why come to
me?”

He took a step
toward her. “Because you are the only Guardian whose integrity I trust. And
because you were the only one who believed that I could be other than my
father’s son.”

“The more fool
I.” Her aunt had believed, too, but Cass would not impugn Ana by mentioning it.

 Raven held
out a hand, like a drowning man begging for a lifeline. “You believed in me
once. I need you to believe in me again.”

“I need to
forget I ever met you. Looks like neither of us is going to get what we need.”

“Cassandra, you
are the only chance I have. Please, I have something to help your side, if you
will but speak for me.”

She had never
heard this tone of entreaty from him. Could she believe his voice, his words?
She
  tightened
her jaw.  This was too close
to her long-forgotten dreams of reconciliation to be real. He knew her too
well, was all. He knew how to play her like he knew how to play the baby grand
that stood in the sitting room of his manor.

“Speak for you?”
Old pain sharpened her words.  “I am not the starry-eyed fool that you
seduced fresh from General Academy.”

“I regret that I
hurt you. I regret a lot of things.” His lips twisted briefly. “I have
discovered, too late, that I do actually have a conscience. It’s rather hard to
live with.”

“Die, then.”

“Cassandra,
please.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, slid it down her arm in a familiar
caress.

It took
everything she had to step away from his touch. “If you mean what you say, then
turn yourself in to the Guardians.”

He shook his
head. “I will not subject myself to that. Quite aside from my distaste for the
Guardians and their self-righteous arrogance—”

“You wanted to
be a Guardian, once.”

His lips ghosted
that brief half-smile she once loved. “The folly of youth. And I believe you
know how well that turned out.”

“You can’t blame
the Guardians—”

“Can’t I?” She
got a full smile this time, one that challenged an apprentice’s ill-considered
assumptions.

She glanced down
to study the wet pavement, the toes of her boots.

“Do you know
what happened to the last dark mage who tried to turn evidence against
William?” Raven asked.

She only wished
she could forget. “I saw the photos. Of the scene. Where
the.
. .where what was left of the body was found.”

“I watched him
die,” he said. “It took more than two days. William was most creative. He has
agents
everywhere.
How do you think poor
Davide
was found out? Are you truly naive enough to believe that your precious
Guardians have not been infiltrated?”

There had been
rumors, suspicions. Raven, as a member of William’s inner circle, would know
the truth of it, might even know who the turncoats were.

But she could
not trust a word that he said.

“
No one
has ever succeeded in leaving William’s fold,” Raven said. “Not even the
lowliest apprentice who gets scared and decides he doesn’t want to be a dark
mage, after all.”

Cass raised her
chin proudly. “I left.”

“But you were
never sworn to William. We never let you know what the real agenda was, or you
would have never apprenticed to me. For those who have knelt before him and
taken an oath, those who are close enough to him that the external wards are
keyed to allow their entry, not one has left him and survived. William goes mad
at the slightest hint of betrayal. The Guardians have only found the bodies he
wanted them to find.”

The thought of
countless murders gone undiscovered horrified Cass’s Guardian soul.

“I have been
keeping something from William, something that would make him more dangerous
than he already is,” Raven said. “Something that could help defeat him.”

Oh, he was still
good. She held his dark stare. He knew exactly how to bait the trap. She hated
the man he served, the man for whose interests he had betrayed her. Hated the
man who threatened the peace her parents had died for.

“He doesn’t
suspect me.” Raven frowned now. “At least, not any more than he suspects
anyone. But when he finds out I’ve defected, he’s going to wonder what else
I’ve been hiding. As a prisoner, I’d have no escape when his interrogator
comes. And I am sure you know how effective William’s agents can be.”

Her mind flooded
with pictures of the interrogators’ work, mutilated bodies, disemboweled,
flayed, and her imagination put Raven’s face to each of them. No matter what
he’d done to her and to others, she could not wish that fate on him.

He stared past
her into the mist and darkness. “I will, if I must, accept death as a just
consequence of the mistakes I’ve made, but I will not subject myself to a slow,
painful death.” He gave her the dark, ironic smile she’d seen on a hundred
tabloid covers. “Even if it would please you no end.”

Still lost in
past horrors she shook her head. Realized too late she’d given herself
away. 

“No?” His eyes
flickered.  “I am sure there are many who would. But much as I hate to
disappoint them, even if I had no . .
.personal
aversion to such a fate, I would not risk it.”

From anyone
else, this calm discourse on his own potential death-by-torture would seem too
studied, but she knew Raven too well to be surprised.

“I have seen
brave men, strong men, betray all they held sacred.” His lips curved in a sour
smile. “I am not quite arrogant enough to believe that I, who hold nothing
sacred, could stand firm where they could not.”

Something
crashed in the alley.

She jumped and
turned, letting out a most un-Guardian yelp. Then she saw the culprit— her
neighbor’s fluffy white cat, skittering out of the alley and away into the
darkness, having no doubt executed its normal dive from the second-floor balcony
to the lid of the garbage dumpster and from the dumpster to the smaller
recycling bin, and then to the ground.

Her heart beat
wildly for a few more moments, until her body accepted the all-clear from her
brain. The startle had broken through the old, familiar spell of his presence,
and she remembered all the reasons she shouldn’t trust him, didn’t dare trust
him.

“You shouldn’t
be here.” She pitched her voice low, warning. “And I shouldn’t be here
listening to you. Find yourself another stupid young apprentice. This one grew
up a long time ago.”

“I see.” He
stepped back into the shadows; his shoulders slumped, and he seemed to
diminish. “I will not trouble you again.”