I’ve never liked being underground. Air’s more my element, even if I’m not close enough to it to use its magic; I like being high, able to see. Here beneath the earth, I felt tense, on edge. The air felt different: dry and stuffy. I could imagine the thousands of tons of earth and rock above me pressing silently down, and I forced myself to stay calm.

  I think the only thing that stopped me from losing it was knowing I could find my way back. I was lost of course—there was no way I could have marked my passage in that flight, and the pitch-black tunnels would have turned me around in seconds. But as long as I have my magic, I can never stay lost. With enough time, I can always find the path.

  Except in this case, the path led to about fifteen angry men with guns. I took stock of my position. No food, no water, no equipment, no friends. I had three choices: stay here, go forward, or go back.

  In the end I went forward. It wasn’t so much a choice as a lack of one. I’ve been in a lot of really bad situations over the years and one of the small consolations is that you don’t have to worry much about consequences anymore.

  The upper levels had had open chambers and rooms, which had narrowed down into twisting passages as I’d descended. Now, as I kept walking, I noticed that the passages were starting to open out again. They’d stopped sloping down, which was some consolation, but I knew I still had to be far beneath the surface. The tunnels would have to climb back up a very long way to reach another exit, which I was frankly starting to believe was pretty unlikely.

  After a while—I couldn’t say how long—I became vaguely aware that something was different. I was making steady progress but it was getting harder to see what was coming. The corridors and passages were fuzzier, more difficult to tell apart. I felt as though I was walking down a long, straight tunnel but when I looked again I thought I saw a fork. I looked again and saw a T junction. Then I couldn’t see any tunnel at all.

  I slowed and scanned around me. I was in a large chamber. No, not large—huge. I looked back, disoriented, trying to figure out where I’d left the tunnel, and realised there was no tunnel. There was nothing around me but open space. I stopped and heard my footsteps fade into the distance. They didn’t echo.

  I was standing in a vast cavern. The walls were ragged and irregular but their edges were smooth. The colour of the stone ranged from grey to brown, and in places I could see the dull glint of crystal. A moment later I realised that I was able to see. There was no light, yet everything was visible.

  Slowly I began to walk again, and as I did I noticed that something was wrong with the perspective in this place. Distances didn’t seem right, somehow. At first glance I’d thought the cavern was maybe a few hundred yards, but as I walked I realised it was taking far too long to reach the centre. The place was miles and miles wide, the roof so far above I couldn’t even see it. At the centre were craggy rock formations, and as I kept walking, they grew larger and larger until I realised that they were the size of hills. There was an entire mountain range at the centre of this place, curled around where I was standing, rising at the centre in a line of jagged peaks and descending on either side to form the shape of a crescent moon. To my left the mountains trailed away to a smooth point, while to my right they ended in a massive rock formation like a mesa.

  The mesa rose into the air.

  I stopped dead. The mesa was high off the ground, supported at an angle by a titanic pillar of rock. As I watched, it swung in my direction, crossing the miles between us with a kind of lazy grace. The mesa came to rest in front of me, towering over me like a skyscraper while I stood motionless.

  Then the mesa opened its eyes.

  It wasn’t a mesa. It was a head. The pillar of rock was a long, serpentine neck. And what I’d thought was a mountain range was the thing’s body. Two enormous eyes, each the size of a castle, focused on where I stood. They looked like rough-cut diamonds, with no pupils I could see.

  I stood very still. Piece by piece, I slowly realised what my eyes had seen but my brain had refused to put together. The mountain range was a body, the folded hills beneath them two legs. The line of peaks was the ridge on its back and the trailing edge of mountains to my left was a long, serpentine tail. But it was the head that held my attention. It was long and wedge-shaped, the two eyes set far back before a pair of swept-back horns each the size of a tower, with two nostrils set at the front. Now that it had turned to face me, it was completely still. If I hadn’t seen it move, I would have thought it was some impossible rock formation.

  The dragon watched me, silent and unblinking.

  “Um,” I said. “Hi.”

  It was, looking back on it, a pretty stupid way to introduce myself.

  “Um, sorry to bother you,” I said. The creature before me didn’t react, and I raised my voice a little. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”

  The dragon stared at me. I don’t know much about dragons. Nobody really does. Maybe it couldn’t hear me, any more than a human can hear an ant. I began to back off. “I’ll just leave you in peace—”

  STAY.

  The voice went through me as though I were hearing it with my whole body. It felt like an earthquake, thunder through distant caverns. I stopped.

  ARACHNE.

  I hesitated. “Yes?”

  YOU WILL AID HER.

  I hesitated again, trying to figure out what to say. It didn’t sound like an order. It was more like a statement. “I’m going to,” I said at last. “If I can.”

  The dragon watched me silently. “Okay,” I said slowly. “Arachne’s above. She’s in her lair. She’s hurt.”

  I waited for an answer. Nothing came.

  “Can you go to her?” I said at last.

  The dragon didn’t answer. I didn’t know what was going on. “If I brought Arachne here, could you help her?”

  YES.

  “Is there, uh … any way you could help me with that?”

  The dragon reared its head back, opening its mouth like a chasm. There were teeth inside, glinting dully. One of its enormous front claws rose up out of the earth and broke off a tooth with a thunderclap. Then the claw descended towards me.

  I would have fled then if I could. One brush from that claw would turn me into a bloody smear. I knew I couldn’t possibly get away but my instincts shouted at me to run anyway … and yet I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch that claw descend, bigger and bigger—

  The claw was gone. The dragon was back as it had been. Its enormous diamond eyes watched me. GO.

  Darkness.

  I was lying on stone, face down. It was pitch-black, and the air was warm. I was back in the tunnels.

  I sat up, searching around me with my divination magic, watching the futures of myself exploring. I was in a small tunnel with a smooth floor. One end sloped upwards slightly and I had the feeling it led back the way I had come. There was no cavern nearby, and looking into the futures, there was nothing like it within my range. It didn’t seem to exist.

  I shook my head, disoriented. My memories of the cavern felt hazy, confused, and didn’t seem to make sense. Had it been real? Or a dream, my mind playing tricks from exhaustion?

  Either way, I’d been down here for hours. The tunnels felt dead, empty. If Belthas’s men had been going to search this far, they would have caught up to me by now; they must have given up and gone back. Looking into the future, I couldn’t see any sign that the tunnels ahead were going to start sloping back up towards ground level. I turned and began retracing my steps.

  It took a long time, but even so the way back was easier. Now I wasn’t in a panicked rush, I could see the tunnels weren’t as complex as I’d thought. There were only one or two main pathways, with the occasional side passage and dead end. The tunnels followed a single primary route, two or three times my height and much wider.

  I kept to a steady pace, narrowing my visions down to only the next few seconds, focusing on my footing and my precognition. As I walked I thought about what I should do. Belthas had to be long gone; I couldn’t imagine him setting up camp in Arachne’s lair. If I was lucky he’d given up on me and sealed the cave, maybe with a booby trap or two. That would cause problems but I could deal with it. If I was unlucky he’d left guards, in which case … well, I’d just have to come up with something.

  When the first sliver of light appeared, I almost didn’t recognise it; I’d been navigating by sound and touch so long I’d forgotten to use my eyes. As I drew closer I saw it was the reflected glow of the lights in Arachne’s lair. There were hollow caves around here, used as rooms; at a quick glance they held bales of thread and cloth. I was only two turnings away from the lair itself and I knew I had to be silent. Quietly, I moved forward to the T junction that led into the lair. My eyes weren’t yet accustomed to the light, and even the dim reflections off the rock were enough to dazzle me. I didn’t poke my head out; instead I stood with my hand on the rocky wall and looked into the future of me doing so.

  It wasn’t my lucky day. It wasn’t really luck of course; it was that Belthas was so bloody thorough. But it was still hard to take. After everything I’d gone through this night I really needed a break, and I wasn’t getting one.

  There was good news, bad news, and worse news. The good news, and the biggest surprise, was that Arachne was still in the lair, motionless in the corner, and as far as I could tell she didn’t seem to have been touched. I didn’t understand why Belthas would leave her here after going to so much trouble to get her but I wasn’t going to question it.

  The bad news was that four of Belthas’s men were there too. They’d gathered the sofas and chairs at the centre of the room, giving themselves some cover and creating a killing ground in front of the entrances. One was watching the tunnels; a second seemed to be napping; the third was back at the mouth of the tunnel leading out onto the Heath, leaning against the wall. He was smoking and I could smell the cigarette from all the way across the room.

  The worse news was that the fourth man was Garrick. He was tucked away behind the barricade, almost invisible behind one of the sofas. He looked to be settled comfortably, but even so, his weapon was propped up and levelled at exactly the space I’d need to cross to leave the tunnel. He looked half asleep but I knew he wasn’t.

  I looked to see what would happen if I moved out. Hopeless. If I didn’t get shot down in the first few steps, there were explosives of some kind planted near the tunnel mouth, hidden so I wouldn’t see them before they tore me apart. And if I could get past that—which frankly, I didn’t think I could—I’d be in the middle of an open room with four men shooting at me. Even with my mist cloak I didn’t think I could have made it.

  I took stock of what I had. My items were gone. About the only advantage I had was surprise—Garrick and his men couldn’t know for sure whether I was coming back, and they could have been waiting for hours. There were clothes and materials back in the caves behind me. I couldn’t think of any way in which they could help but maybe—

  “Coming?” Garrick asked.

  The man who’d been napping came awake with a start, and the other two raised their weapons, looking around.

  I sighed. So much for surprise.

  “He’s around the corner,” Garrick said.

  The man who’d been on lookout peered up towards the entrance. “Wait, so—”

  “Stay put,” Garrick said.

  “What’s the matter, Garrick?” I said. I felt the men aim their weapons at the tunnel mouth, tracking my voice, and I got ready to run. “Losing your nerve?”

  I felt Garrick smile. “What’s the rush?”

  One of the men, thinking I couldn’t see him, started to creep forward, his feet soft against the floor. Garrick looked at him. The man drew back.

  “So,” I said when they didn’t make a move. “Four men with guns, explosives round the door, all just for me.”

  “Five,” Garrick said. “One’s posted outside.”

  “Five,” I said. “I’m flattered.”

  “Belthas thought it was over the top,” Garrick said. “I talked him into it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Oh, before you get any ideas, those mines have a remote trigger this time.”

  I checked and verified what he’d said. Garrick’s finger was probably on the trigger right now. “You don’t think this is a bit excessive?”

  “Consider it a compliment,” Garrick said amiably. “You’ve gotten away from me before.”

  “Right,” I said. It hadn’t been by much, either. “You’re quite a marksman, by the way.”

  “I keep my hand in,” Garrick said. “Didn’t know diviners could dodge like that.”

  “The ones who can’t tend not to live very long.”

  The men had settled down again, their weapons ready and aimed, listening to the conversation. “So since you aren’t having another try,” I said, “I’m guessing shooting me isn’t your primary goal.”

  “Nope.”

  “So you’re doing what?” I said. “Playing rear guard?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You know, there’s something I’m curious about,” I said. “When I first met you, you were doing a job for Talisid. Then you were working for Belthas. Then Belthas said you were working for Levistus. Now you’re working for Belthas again?”

  Garrick waited with an expression of mild inquiry. “So?” I said when he didn’t answer.

  “So?”

  “Who do you actually work for?”

  “Depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  “Who’s paying.”

  “You mean three different people were paying you to do three different things?”

  “I’m freelance.”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “You were working with Belthas at the start. So you must have been with Belthas at the factory for that fight with Deleo and Cinder over the barghest. Then Talisid paid you again to go back to the same factory to kill the same barghest?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention that it was already dead?”

  “Client confidentiality.”

  “No wonder you were so bloody relaxed,” I muttered. “So you work for whoever pays you?”

  “Hey, fuck this guy,” the man who’d wanted to go after me said.

  “Shut up, Mick,” Garrick said. “Yep.”

  “Okay. I’ll pay you and your men twice what Belthas is paying you to switch sides.”

  I thought I felt some of the men glance at each other. “Sorry,” Garrick said. “Under contract.”

  “So what? Once you’re bought, you stay bought?”

  “Yep.”

  “An honest mercenary,” I said under my breath. “Great.” I raised my voice. “What about the rest of you?”

  “Same answer,” Garrick said before the other men could speak. “Because they’re such loyal, trustworthy people. And because they wouldn’t live to spend the money if they said yes.”

  This time I definitely wasn’t imagining the glances. Okay, so that wasn’t going to work.

  I sat and thought for a minute. “So what’s the idea?” I said at last. “You’re just going to sit there and wait?”

  “Yep.”

  “You know there are other ways out, right?” I said. I was fairly sure there weren’t, but I was also fairly sure Garrick didn’t know one way or the other.

  “Could be,” Garrick agreed.

  “And you’re not going to stop me finding them?”

  “Nope.”

  “You know, for someone with a five-to-one advantage and all the weapons,” I said, “you’re very cautious.”

  “We’re not coming after you, Verus,” Garrick said. “Don’t get me wrong, I could take you. But one thing I’ve learnt about you, you’re really good at running away. Five’s not enough to find you. But it’s enough to stop you getting out.”

  “This way.”

  “This way. But if you’d found another one, I don’t think you’d be here chatting.”

  I was hoping he wouldn’t realise that. “So how long are you going to wait?”

  “Few days should do it,” Garrick said. “These are dry caves. No water. You’ll be dead from dehydration by then.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Or you make a break,” Garrick said. “Be interesting to see if you can dodge a mine blast.” He bent down to check something, then returned to his position. “Or you give yourself up. Your call.”

  I stayed silent. I couldn’t think of a smart answer this time. I’d been sweating and I was already thirsty. There weren’t any supplies in the storerooms. I didn’t know how long I could last without water. I was pretty sure it was a lot shorter than Garrick was willing to wait.

  Divination magic lets you avoid a lot of things. But it’s no use against thirst. It doesn’t do too well against a firing range filled with land mines, either.

  I withdrew back down the tunnel. I knew that Garrick and the men were still waiting, their weapons trained on the entrance. I sat down and tried to think.

  I could do what I’d threatened and go back down the tunnel, looking for another way out, but I had the feeling it was a bad idea. It was just possible I’d missed a passage somewhere on the way down, but if I tried a search and failed I might be too weak to do anything else.

  Or I could use the supplies in the caves and hope to get past the blockade. I tried to think of some way in which a large pile of clothes could bypass a minefield and several armed men and came up blank.

  In the end I did what I usually do. I looked into the future to see what would happen. Maybe Garrick’s men would go away or they’d be called off or …

  …Wait, what? What was he doing here?

  …That could work.

  I waited a while, then went back up to the tunnel mouth. I didn’t try to stay quiet this time and I knew before I got there that all the men were looking at the tunnel, their weapons ready. The man at the tunnel leading back out into the Heath was still smoking. “Hey, Garrick,” I said.