The best way I can think of to describe Red’s is that it’s kind of like the magical version of a mixed martial arts gym. When I say “mixed,” I’m not talking about the bare-handed fights you see on TV, I mean really mixed. It’s also got a highly restricted guest list, and that list doesn’t extend to ex–Dark diviners with dubious reputations. It does extend to Keepers, though, and the more martially inclined ones hold practice sessions there on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. This was the third time Caldera had brought me along.

By the time we’d arrived and changed, things were in full swing. There wasn’t a guest teacher this time, meaning that everyone was broken up into small groups, and even though I’d seen it before, I still paused to watch. The group on the left side of the gym was practising elemental magic, shields and lances of fire and wind slamming into each other in controlled explosions. They were keeping a check on their power level, but I could still feel the heat in the air from the flame bursts. Another group was practising with rubber knives and staffs, while a third group was standing facing each other in pairs; it didn’t look as though they were doing anything, but I could feel traces of mind magic. Caldera headed off to join the weapons group, and I was left on my own.

I took a few minutes to check what sort of reception I’d get if I just walked up and introduced myself. Divining how a conversation will go is difficult; predicting the first line or two of the exchange is hard enough, and reliably calling it any further than that is virtually impossible unless the guy you’re talking to already has made up his mind about what he’s going to say. Human interactions are close to the absolute worst things to try to predict with divination—they’re too unpredictable, dependent on sudden decisions and random chance. But there are ways around it, and one of the more effective ones is not to try to predict exactly what someone will say, but to look at the general shape of the possible replies—they might vary, but from where they’re clustered, you can get a sense of what kind of reception you’re going to get. It’s a good way to figure out if somebody likes you or not.

From looking at the futures in which I approached the mages here, I was pretty sure the general answer was “not.” It’s not really a surprise. Keepers tend to lean towards the Guardian side of the political spectrum, and they aren’t the most trusting of people. As far as they’re concerned, once a Dark mage, always a Dark mage. I suppose they’ve got reasons to see it that way, but it’s hard not to get frustrated about it sometimes.

In this case, as far as receptions went, about half the Keepers in the room were going to be guarded, and most of the rest would be anywhere from unfriendly to downright hostile. They’d also noticed me—they weren’t being obvious about it, but I knew I was being watched. Following Caldera was an option, but if I kept doing that it would seem as though I were hiding behind her. Instead I approached one of the few other Keepers I knew, a mage called Haken. “Oh, hey, Verus,” Haken said. “Ready for me to kick your arse again?”