***

“Look, I’m stupid and impulsive, that’s, like, most of my personality,” I say, “But even I think that was a terrible time to argue with Iketek.”

Daravoi groans, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah. You’re right, and I was stupid,” he admits, looking down. “I just don’t like people bossing me around. Can we leave it at that? You’re bad enough when you’re wrong.”

“Well, I can’t touch the Else, I must sit on my hands, so what can I do besides pestering you?” I ask.

“Can you be serious for one fucking minute?” he snaps. He doesn’t shout, which makes it worse. “Have you seen what just happened?”

A stupid part of my brain tries to compose a joke, but I squash it down. I feel a blush climbing up my neck. I know I’m inappropriate. I make a point of it, usually. But I don’t really know how else to deal with people. So, I look at my feet, hoping to die of awkwardness like an adult.

“There are buildings in Kalester which look like they’ve been sliced in half,” Daravoi whispers, without looking at me. “Some glow with Elselight at night. Everyone knows you must stay away from them - things are wrong there. I always wondered what could cut a building like that. Now I know.”

His voice shakes.

“Unmaker’s tits, what are we doing, Kore?” He asks, looking at me. “We go deeper in at every step. What if we end up like the people who did that? Fuck, what if we’re already working for them? They might be our mysterious buyers!”

“We’re not going to become terrorists,” I say. He’s echoing my thoughts all too well, but there’s a desperate edge to his voice, and I think this is the time for being reassuring, more than honest. “We’re not like that. We won’t ever be. Like, I literally turned down an offer from the Faceless two weeks ago!”

“How do you know we won’t?” Daravoi’s voice is getting louder. I flinch, and he takes a deep breath, then he speaks with forced calm. “I barely threw a punch in my life, before I had my magic. But you’ve seen what I did to that gangster.”

“I was so angry,” he goes on, “and it’s so easy to break and hurt when I touch the Else. It seems so natural.”

I shiver. Magic doesn’t make me want to hurt or break anything. But in the jewelry, and in the Night Club, I definitely wasn’t thinking straight. It’s so fun, so easy, to Lie.

“What if we go Veil-mad?” Daravoi asks, in a whisper.

We left that question open, back under the broken dome, when we chose to pursue magic. I always pushed away the thought - I’m good at that. But if we don’t discuss it now, I know we never will.

“Most mages never go Veil-mad,” I say. “The Council wouldn’t exist otherwise. We just have to be careful. And we’ll keep watch on each other, too. You’re a nice guy. You don’t even want to hurt feelings, let alone people. If you start being violent and bloodthirsty, I’ll definitely know something is wrong.”

Daravoi looks at me, as if he’s trying to decide whether I know what I’m talking about. Or worse, whether I’m lying.

How can anyone trust me, knowing what my magic does? Or just knowing me, actually.

“Do you really have to sit on your hands?” He asks after a while, sounding a bit less anxious, “It’s hard to have a serious conversation.”

“Sorry, Iketek is legit scary, and she told me not to do any bullshit.” I say. “So, I’ll sit on my hands until she’s back. As for the rest… I’m sorry. I know you don’t desire magic as strongly as I do. And you can’t back down as easily as I could. Well, as I could have. I think it’s a really bad time to say hey, I’m a rogue mage, but I’m not so bad, can I have some silver tats?”

He snorts.

“Not your fault.” He says after a short silence. “I grumbled, but I followed you all the way. I’ll keep following you.”

What the Abyss does he mean, follow? He can’t think I’m fit to lead anyone, right? Still, it’s kind of touching.

“But,” Daravoi says, slowly, “you say we’ll watch each other for veil-madness… what am I supposed to do, if I think you are going veil-mad?”

“You’d just need to tell me! I’d listen! For reals! When you called me out on the memory-manipulation stuff, I stopped doing it!” I protest.

Daravoi looks pained as he answers.

“I… I know you mean it, Kore,” he says. “But if you were going veil-mad, would you listen? And if you were going veil-mad - you could make a Lie to change me.”

I want to protest again, I learned my lesson, I won’t use my power to change people, even in minor stuff. Making Daravoi trust me is instinctually repulsive, it’s full kitten-squashing supervillain territory, I’d never do that!

But I remember the person I was, briefly, when I threatened the bounty hunters. I can’t make promises for xem. I can’t rely on my future self - that’s the whole problem with losing one’s mind.

Those mages who devastated Valanes - are they doing it for some mysterious purpose? Are they just ruthless?

Or they’re gone so deep into the Else, they can’t remember why killing people is wrong?

“I think I’ll sit on my hands and think some more about this,” I say.

***

Usually, when people tell me I should think hard, I make a frowny face for ten seconds, then make up some bullshit on the spot.

But now I don’t want my mind to wander, because if I do that, it drifts to the images of smoke and broken buildings. How many people lived in those blocks?

Even worse, my treacherous brain circles back to wondering what I would do if Daravoi started going Veil-mad, using his magic to break and hurt.

So, for once, I force myself to stop and think. About our situation, about the attack, about the book.

When Iketek comes back, I realize I actually had some useful thoughts. I should try this ‘thinking’ stuff more often, it works!

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Wait, you actually sat on your hands the whole time?” She asks, spreading her arms in disbelief.

“It worked,” I say, “I didn’t do anything stupid. Daravoi can confirm that.”

“Nice to know,” she says, sounding distracted. She takes off her thermal vest and boots in the atrium, slowly. She’s always deliberate, as if she evaluates every gesture, but now she moves like she’s one hundred years old.

“So?” I ask, “are we still on the job?”

“If you want,” she says, walking into our room and looking at me, then Daravoi. “The Prop Master thinks there’s no immediate risk for us. Except potentially increased security at the University, since the attack could be related to a Precursor site.”

“Does he know who did it?” I ask.

“Not yet,” Iketek answers. “He has a lot of contacts, though, he’ll get more info in the next few days. The only thing he knows for sure, so far, is that it was a fight between two or more magical factions.”

Magical factions. Despite everything, I feel a thrill at being so close to a secret, hidden world.

But it’s not a story. It’s not ancient history. They’re real, and they could well hurt us.

“So, it’s terrorists fighting each other? That means it’s not our problem, right?” Daravoi asks, hopeful.

Iketek shakes her head, slowly.

“It could be a new Hidden War.”

She must see our blank expressions, because she scoffs and goes on.

“May the Navigator guide us all, you don’t know anything,” she says. “A Hidden War, a conflict between the magical factions. There have been several in history - usually after a mage rebellion, or leading to it.

“If there is a hidden war, it’s a problem for every mage on Refuge. In particular, it’s a terrible time to be gifted, unaffiliated mages with limited training. Any faction could try to recruit us, and if we don’t join, they might well kill us to be sure we don’t join their enemies.”

“Us?” I ask. “You have way more than limited training.”

She shakes her head.

“I know magic better than you,” she says, “and I’m quite powerful. But I’m not even an Adept, yet. I wouldn’t last a minute against agents from the Schools, or the Faceless, or the Syndicates. I took great pains to keep a low profile, so far, for a reason.”

“So, should we drop the job and lie low?” Daravoi asks.

She looks doubtful.

“I thought about it,” she says. “The problem is, as you know, we’ll need to take up some criminal jobs just to stay safe and eat. If we do the relic job, you get the book and I get a lot of money. I… have a suggestion. We could do this job, and then we pool resources, staying together for a few months. We can use my money to lie very low for a year or so, hoping this blows over. And this way, we can study together from the Art of the Veil. Beside the added safety of a group.”

She worded it like a lawyer, but there’s the tiniest bit of anxiety in her voice - she hopes we’ll accept. I’m taken aback - I honestly believed she could barely tolerate us.

“That’s great! We’ll be much safer together,” Daravoi agrees immediately. I can tell how anxious he was to make peace with Iketek. I’m so sure he kept bringing home stray dogs as a child.

Iketek smiles, and I feel bad for spoiling the mood. But I did think quite a bit.

“Very cool!” I say, “and sounds like a great plan. You’ll really have to tell us about the factions and whatever, though. I have a vague notion that there's a bunch of crazy old mages on the moon, and less crazy ones in the Hidden Schools, but that’s about it.”

“I’m not any kind of expert, but I’ll share what I know,” Iketek says, reluctant. “Not now, though, I’m really tired.”

“Well, there’s something else,” I say, with my most charming smile. “Before we decide whether to go on with the job, and stick with you, I have a question.”

Daravoi frowns, but Iketek keeps her face blank.

“What question?” She asks.

“Who are you? Except, this time, for reals,” I ask.

Daravoi throws up his arms. “The fuck, Kore?”

“I’ve already told you about myself,” Iketek says, but she looks away.

“Yeah, and it was bullshit,” I say, “Or at least you skipped something important. I’m not saying you were wrong to do that, you barely knew us. But now we’re roomies. Also, we’re going to do something dangerous together, while something even more dangerous is happening in the world, and I’d like to know who am I working with.”

“Why do you believe I lied?” She asks. She doesn’t sound angry, only curious.

“You claim that you learned the basics of magic from a Council book, too” I say, “but you didn’t actually recognize my spell forms - and I did learn from a Council book. You claim you never worked for any magical faction, but you clearly know quite a bit about them, and you could contact them through the Prop Master, so you’re actively avoiding them.

“Also, you’re clearly closer to the Prop Master than you implied - if all you wanted was money enough to live a comfortable life, you could do that alone, with your powers. So, what’s your deal?”

I feel a bit stupid saying it - I fear she’ll just laugh and explain some obvious error in my logic. But she nods, calmly.

“You’re truly a Liar,” she says, with something akin to admiration in her voice. “It’s so easy to dismiss you. I knew you weren’t a harmless fool – you found me, at the Moonbreaker, despite my precautions. Few mages, even much more experienced than you, would manage that. But your silly, childish act is so good, it’s easy to forget you’re quite smart.”

“It’s not an act,” I say, “I’m really an idiot. I swear. Or at least, I’m impulsive and I don’t think things through. You can ask my sister for a detailed, well sourced account of my stupidity. I licked a live electric wire, twice. But I’m not just stupid, I guess. So… who are you?”

She stares at me, and while she doesn’t seem angry, golden flecks shine in her eyes. I remember how fiercely she glows in the Else, how easily she weaves magic, and I wonder if I just did something impulsive without thinking it through.

What if she doesn’t want to answer?

At the edge of my view, Daravoi shifts position a little bit, and the air is heavy with tension - we don’t really know much about Iketek. What if we were wrong in trusting her? What if she uses her mind-magic against us? Could she… make us forget about the question? What if this isn’t the first time I asked?

Before I can get properly scared, Iketek sighs, her shoulders slump, and the moment of tension passes.

“I’d have told you in due time,” she says. “It’s not some big secret. Only something I don’t enjoy talking about. If we’re going to stay together for a while, you should know, though. Come with me, we might as well use our new kitchen.”

We cross the small entryway and move into the kitchen. We’ve not eaten in our new home, yet – yesterday we went to a pub, and we sort of skipped lunch after the Valanes news.

Iketek snaps her fingers, and small golden lights appear in midair.

“You said we shouldn’t use magic,” Daravoi grumbles.

“I said you shouldn’t,” she points out, “I can do minor magic subtly enough that it can’t be detected, even by a mage. You’ll have to practice that. Let’s see what infusions we have here… tea and cocoa. You northern barbarians. Pick your favorite.”

“Tea is fine,” I say looking around in the small room. “Look, I don’t know much about poor people’s houses, but shouldn’t a kitchen have a table?”

Iketek snorts. “Your covert identities are from Landfall. So, we’ll eat on the floor like civilized people.”

“Wait, Landfallers really do that? I thought it was only in movies,” I say.

Iketek sighs. “Well, it seems like you’ll need a crash course on civilized behavior before you step into the university. Now sit. Not on the bare floor, you barbarian, take a carpet.”

I watch in confusion while Iketek and Daravoi take small mats propped against the wall and unroll them over the floor. Oh, that’s what we bought them for.

Iketek plugs a kettle to heat, and puts a raised wooden tray on the floor. It looks like a really short and inconvenient table.

“What’s wrong with a regular table and chairs? You eat like that in Kalester too?” I ask.

Dara shakes his head. “Not in Kalester. But I grew up in a merchant caravan. Mass is expensive on an airship, so we cut on the furniture.”

We sit on the mats, and Iketek searches the cupboard, frowning. There’s only one clean cup – oh, right, I have at least three dirty ones in my room. Finally, she makes a sweeping gesture with her wrist, and three cups made of golden light form on the counter. With slow, careful gestures, she pours the tea into each one. I wonder if she enjoys the ritual, or if she's stalling for time.

Finally, she sits cross-legged on her mat and raises her cup. I tentatively touch my own - it looks and feels like glass, smooth and warm, with golden light swirling inside. It’s her secondary path, Making - definitely less creepy than mind-magic.

It’s weirdly intimate, sitting on the mats together, with warm golden lights and steaming cups.

This is a lie, I remind myself. We’re trying to look like normal students, like friends. But we barely know each other. We’re together to commit a crime.

[CONTINUES]