I watched the train pull away into the distance, running lights fading into the sea of neon. Only when I was sure that he wasn’t coming back did I sigh and relax. I was hurting in a dozen places, and now that the adrenaline was fading away, I was realising just how bad the wound in my side was. Blood had soaked through my shirt and coat, and I was starting to feel light-headed.

I looked at where the woman was lying. She wasn’t moving, and that was enough to kill any satisfaction I felt at having escaped. From a quick check I could tell that she was alive but badly hurt. I didn’t have anything that could help her, and I could hear sirens in the distance; the paramedics were on their way and the police would be too. Time to go. I turned and limped away, looking for somewhere out of sight where I could gate home.

chapter 4

“Hold still.”

“Ow.”

“I said, hold still.”

I was back in my flat, lying on my side on the sofa. My shirt was off, and Anne was leaning over, studying me.

“You’re sure it was just hardened air?” Anne asked. “He wasn’t using something else as a missile?”

“I didn’t exactly get the chance to—”

“Don’t lift your head.”

I obeyed, putting my head back down on the sofa and talking to the floor. “Pretty sure. There isn’t . . . ?”

“There’s nothing in the wound. I just wanted to be sure.” I heard Anne sigh slightly. “You were lucky.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

It was about fifteen minutes later. I’d gated home, called Anne, and had been lucky enough to get her on the phone. She’d used a gate stone to make the journey to my flat immediately.

Other members of the magical community have mixed feelings towards life mages, viewing them rather as they would nuclear reactors. They’re good at what they do, but you don’t want to get close to one unless you’re really sure it’s safe. Given Anne’s history, very few mages would willingly allow her within arm’s reach. I never used to really get that attitude, but after last year, I think I understand it a little. I still don’t share it though. I’ve always instinctively trusted Anne, and as soon as she’d arrived, I’d felt myself relax.

“I’m serious,” Anne said. Her sleeves were rolled up but she hadn’t touched me. Anne can look at a living body and read its condition and injuries and state of health as easily as you or I can read a clock. “You were really lucky. The shard must have been almost flat—it went deep but it didn’t have much volume. That’s the only reason it didn’t hit anything vital. An inch or two up or sideways and it would have penetrated the kidney or the bowel.”

“Is that bad?”

“What do you think?” Anne said in exasperation. “There’s muscle damage, internal bleeding, and you’ve got some bacterial contamination.”