“I’ve already scanned the easily accessible periods,” Abeyance said. “The problem is the location. If you want more useful information, I’ll need to be inside.”

Haken nodded. “I’m calling in the other teams. Get suited up.” He disappeared again.

| | | | | | | | |

The van took us to a nearby building. Although mages can theoretically just gate around London wherever they choose, in practice familiarity and the need for secrecy act as limits. Partly for that reason, the Council has a network of properties around London and England that can be used as transport nodes. This one was an office block—scanning it, the rest of the occupants seemed to be regular business folk, but one of the floors was empty except for us. The Council would own or rent it, and would leave it unused when it wasn’t needed, which was a reminder of just how enormous their resources were. London’s one of the most expensive cities in the world, yet the Council can afford to leave a place sitting empty just on the off chance that it might be used. When you have that kind of money, it gives you a lot of options.

The floor was an open-plan office, scattered tables and benches, and it was busy. Men in black fatigues were standing around in knots, talking or unpacking things from long bags. Their clothes were dark and nondescript, with no insignias or logos, but there was no hiding the black body armour or the guns at their belts. These were Council security, the guards and foot soldiers of the Light mages. If mage battles are a chess game, these guys are the pawns. The jobs that Council security do put them up against everything from Dark mages to magical predators to unlicensed constructs. Sometimes those guns they carry do them some good. Other times, they’re about as effective as thrown rocks. It’s a hard job, and it breeds hard men.

The Keepers were standing around a flimsy table at the centre of the floor, talking quietly amongst themselves. Everyone else was there already; we were the last. “Hey, hey!” Coatl called out as we walked over. “Where’s the bar?”

Haken ignored Coatl. “The Order of the Shield aren’t an option,” he was saying. “Council wants this low-key.”

“Right,” Lizbeth said sarcastically. “The one time those nuts would be useful and we’re not allowed to call them in?”

“The idea is not to escalate things.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Slate said.

“Fine,” Lizbeth said. “So we pick up someone from White Rose and squeeze them.”

“They won’t have the base location.”

Slate shrugged. “Get one of the mages, then.”

The argument went on. Abeyance stood with arms folded, not getting involved. Coatl had wandered off. I checked my phone: it was six o’clock. Time was running out.

“No,” Haken said at last. “We’re going with the original plan. We go in and talk.” He looked around. “Slate, Trask, Cerulean, you’re on point with me. We’ll go through the front door and find someone who can make the decision. Verus, you stay close. Watch for wards and tell us if there are going to be any surprises. Understand?”