“Thanks, but I’m not walking into any more private interviews with you.”

Levistus raised his eyebrows slightly. “And you believe that out here you are safe?”

“It makes it a little less convenient for you to get an air elemental to asphyxiate me. Did you bring one along this time?”

“I would have expected you to know the answer to that already.”

“I do. Just wondered whether you’d lie about it.”

Levistus tilted his head slightly, studying me. “If I decided to devote my full resources to destroying you, how long do you think you would survive?”

“That’s actually quite an interesting question,” I said, raising a finger. “You do have a lot of resources, and I’m sure it’s something you’ve done before. On the other hand, as I’m sure you’ve discovered, my particular type of magic is pretty good at dealing with this sort of problem. Personally, I’d put my chances of survival somewhere between thirty and forty percent. If you’d give me some more information about your plans, I’d be able to give you a more accurate estimate.”

“Interesting,” Levistus said. “So given that—by your own admission—your odds of survival would be less probable than the alternative, perhaps you could explain why you see fit to continue to antagonise me.”

“I suppose you’d prefer if I came to you humbly and offered to apologise.”

“It would be wise.”

I sighed, then straightened my back and looked Levistus right in the eyes. “And if I don’t, what are you going to do about it? If you had a way to kill me off efficiently, you’d have done it already. The only reason you stopped sending assassins was because it wasn’t working. So no, I’m not going to bow and scrape. Maybe it’d make you a tiny bit less likely to carry on trying to kill me, but quite frankly, given the amount of shit you’ve caused me, it isn’t worth the effort. Does that answer your question?”

I’d expected Levistus to get angry. Instead he only nodded. “Do you know why you are here?”

“Why I’m here in this room? Why I’m here on Earth? Why—?”

“Why the Council is currently deciding whether to issue an indictment against the members of White Rose,” Levistus said. “And why this situation has developed.”

I shrugged. “Mostly because an assassin-mage by the name of Chamois decided to keep an appointment at Pudding Mill Lane.”

“And do you know the name of his employer?”

I didn’t answer.

“You know nothing of importance.” Levistus’s voice was unemotional; it was a statement, not an insult. “Once again, you have managed to involve yourself in a long-term conflict of which you have absolutely no understanding.”

I spread my hands. “If you feel like educating me about the wider context, I’d be happy to benefit.”

“Morden’s goal for years has been to gain a seat upon the Council.” Levistus watched me steadily. “As of this spring, a seat on the Junior Council will be open for reassignment. This is why Morden has timed his proposal as he has. Without Morden’s involvement, the seat would be assigned to Nirvathis. At present, Morden lacks sufficient support to push his proposal through.”