Mage's Apprentice (Mages of New York Book 1)

by Sean Fletcher

  She rounded the corner and halted, forced to shield her face from the intense heat.

  Her parents had been lucky enough to own their townhouse outright, purchasing one squeezed between a couple others like it on either side. It had been a narrow building, three floors, high ceilings, big glass-paned windows facing the front, which Aspen had loved sitting beside during rainstorms, watching drops dribbling down them.

  Now the heat from the fire had blown the glass out onto the street, scattering it like shards of ice. Almost the entire bottom floor of the house was enflamed, leaving only small gaps where she could see inside. The townhouses on either side of theirs had already caught and were quickly becoming engulfed. Fire spewed from the windows. Even from here her skin had begun to blister.

  Where was everybody? She couldn’t see anyone else running away or toward it. Where were the water witches and druids? She’d even take the Norm fire department right now, even if they’d never be allowed inside the borough.

  “Mom! Dad!” Aspen cried. A tremendous crack answered as something caved inside. “MOM! DAD!”

  Movement, through the space in the front door still untouched by flames. It had looked like a person running upstairs—running back into the fire.

  “Dad?”

  “Aspen!”

  Brune’s voice was still distant but growing closer. Aspen waited for the figure to emerge from the house. She was sure any moment her parents would burst out and hug her and assure her they were fine. Why didn’t they come out? Didn’t they hear her? Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they were trapped. Maybe they’d die soon if she didn’t help.

  Before Brune could catch up, Aspen took a deep breath and rushed through the front door.

  The heat outside had been nothing compared to this. The sweat coating her skin sizzled away the second she entered. Her face was seared with heat, the moisture in her mouth shriveled to dry skin. Aspen kept low to the ground and made her way to the stairs where she’d seen the figure run up. She couldn’t risk yelling. She had trouble just breathing.

  She raced up the stairs to outrun the worst of the fire as it spread. Blackened walls and ash-covered floors greeted her at every turn. Aspen shuffled through smoldering carpets as she reached the second floor. Another flash of movement came from above her, up on the top floor. That was where her bedroom and her parents’ office were.

  Another monstrous crack made her look up just as one of the ceiling beams came crashing down. Aspen dove out of the way as it careened past and exploded on the ground. She scrambled to her feet and began half-crawling her way up the stairs before the bulk of the flames could reach her.

  Aspen’s bedroom door was open. Fire was licking its way in through the windows, peeling the posters off her wall, reducing the stuffed animals her dad had given her to nothing but beady marble eyes. Over the crackle of the rising flames below she heard movement in her parents’ office just across from her. She shoved her way inside.

  Just as an explosion took out the opposite wall.

  Aspen was tossed like a limp sack of flour, slamming into the bookcase on the other side of the room. Her back was in searing pain, her front prickling with heat. Thick smoke and more flames were consuming every inch of the office, inching their way toward her.

  Aspen forced herself to stand. Her parents’ filing cabinets were all charred, as was most of their books; years of work consumed in seconds. The entire opposite side of the wall was gone, leaving an opening to the outside. Aspen spied a pair of bodies on the floor just beneath it.

  Her breath was sucked from her lungs. Her legs froze in place, then crumpled until she was sitting in a heap in the middle of the carpet.

  No. No. It couldn’t be them. Her mind denied it even as her heart told her otherwise. Their bodies were so burned and blackened it was hard to tell, but Aspen knew. She knew even as her stomach lurched horribly and the tears falling from her eyes evaporated before they touched her cheeks.

  All sensation had left her body. She was only partially aware of a figure clambering through the hole the explosion had caused. It was hard to make him out in the growing smoke, but then the flames lurched, casting him in harsh light. He was young, the top of his head smooth, his face twisted in a snarl of rage. He whipped around as he entered and raised a hand. A couple sharp bolts of red magic shot from the tips of his fingers toward somebody she couldn’t see outside. Another explosion followed a moment later.

  The man finished pulling his leg through the hole and straightened up. He froze when he saw her.

  “What—?” It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing before his sharp, cruel face twisted into a sneer. “A child…? Yes…yes you must be the offspring.”

  He sneered again and, in the firelight, Aspen saw his eyes glitter with malice. He placed his hand against one of the desks that wasn’t completely consumed yet. It burst into flames.

  “You.” Aspen’s mouth was chalk dry as she spoke, her tongue shriveled to a husk. “You did this.” She stumbled to standing. “You killed them!”

  Before she could think about what she was doing, she was running right at the man, fists raised. He waved a hand. A sensation like an iron arm caught Aspen in the gut. She felt a rib snap. What remained of her breath was snatched away as she was thrown back into the center of the room.

  “Pathetic,” the man said as Aspen curled into a pained ball. He stood above her, the firelight painting his face orange and red. “You’re not even worth the effort it would take to kill you. I’ll let the fire do that. It will look more natural that way.”

  “I’ll—I’ll k-kill you,” Aspen wheezed. Her broken rib was stabbing into her lungs with every breath. “I-I’ll ki—”

  The man knelt. He twisted Aspen’s face toward him. “Such spirit. Maybe if you’d lived you would ha—”

  Another small explosion erupted over their heads. The man snarled a curse and spun away. A shimmering shield manifested in front of him, deflecting the next few blasts of magic that soared through the window. The man returned with a spell of his own and backed out of the office.

  Aspen blinked, trying to stay conscious. The smoke was thickening in her lungs. She could feel the fire growing closer. She could hear shouts now from outside. Other people had finally arrived.

  Don’t mind me, her fading mind said. Just let me die. Let me—

  A monstrous snap! came from overhead as another ceiling beam started to break. She could barely tilt her head to watch it careen toward her.

  She wasn’t sure what happened next.

  In an instant, the heat around her vanished; all noise ceased. She existed in a vacuum, like she’d been dunked completely into a deep, soothing pool. The outside world was nothing to her but a distant reality through a shimmering haze of magic. Shapes moved beyond it; the fire eating up everything around her; perhaps a shadowy smudge of movement. Maybe the shape of her parents’ murderer escaping. And then…and then…

  Aspen’s world went dark.

  Ten years and a lifetime later

  House of Troubles

  This stupid job was going to get her killed.

  “Are you serious? That’s the house Hugo wants me to break into?”

  Aspen drew back into cover, crouched in the alleyway across the street from the place they were supposed to hit. Then she took another peek, just to be sure she wasn’t overreacting.

  Nope. The house was way, way bigger than Hugo had made it sound. An estate more than a house. Front gate, terraces, Italian-style red-tiled roof that was almost as tall as the building next to it. The entire place was a zoning infraction officer’s dream come true. And even a magic-less Norm like her—even an idiot—could tell it was just bristling with magical safeguards.

  The kid Hugo had demanded she take along on this job kept twitching beside her. Aspen resisted the urge to reach over and slap him into stillness. He was named Snitch (A very, very poor choice of names right there), was four months past due on his last haircut, and had a serious allergy probl
em, judging by the amount of sniffling and snot dripping from his nose into the faint wisp of a mustache on his upper lip. If he didn’t have the pointed, sharp ears and delicate, almost beautiful bone structure that announced to the world he was an elf, then he could have been any other loser kid on the street.

  “Back. Back up.” Aspen ushered him farther into the small alleyway between the cell phone repair shop and Italian restaurant. This Manhattan street was less frequented than some, but she’d still sprinkled a touch of Fae dust on herself from Brune’s stash. The glamour it created meant nobody would even glance her direction, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “What’s the problem?” Snitch said. He wiped his nose. It only managed to smear the snot.

  Aspen took a shallow breath, trying to calm her nerves. “The problem is Hugo didn’t specify that this was the place he wanted me to break you into. It looks like a fortress!”

  Snitch’s lip twitched into a sneer. “I thought you were good.”

  “I am good.” One of the best, if she wasn’t feeling particularly humble. But…

  She rotated Snitch around and pointed. “What on earth does Hugo need in there so badly? And in the Norm world, too?”

  Snitch shrugged his bony shoulders. “Not sure. S’not my job to ask questions, just to do as I’m told.”

  “He didn’t tell you anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  “Look, Hugo just wants something in there,” Snitch said, his voice rising to a whine. “You know the Norm world and can get us in. So just do it already.”

  Aspen eyed him for a half-minute, until the shifty little elf looked away.

  “Okay. But I’m getting paid double.”

  Snitch coughed like he’d choked on his snot. “Double? Hugo will never—”

  “He will if he wants you in there.”

  Aspen could see Snitch weighing his options: come back empty-handed (not really an option) or come back with what Hugo wanted and a slightly higher price tag. Also, he’d get to keep all his limbs intact.

  While the elf debated, Aspen slumped nonchalantly against the brick, trying not to let her anxiety show, trying not to fidget. She could do this. She knew she could. But bluffing with the only job and only money they might get for a while was risky. Brune’s rent was due and Aspen knew for a fact he didn’t have the cash to cover it. Again.

  Snitch continued muttering to himself.

  “Going once,” Aspen said.

  “Just give me a min—”

  “Going twice.”

  “Yes! Yes, I’ll do it. Just get me inside.”

  “Smart boy,” Aspen said, patting him on the shoulder. “Follow me. Stay inconspicuous, stay quiet.”

  Even with the Fae dust, Aspen pulled up the hood of her leather jacket and crossed the street. That was just being extra cautious. Nobody in this snazzy part of town would even spare a glance her way. Not a Norm, not a Supernatural. The soles of her ratty Converse had almost come loose, her socks had holes, the seams of her jeans and shirt were frayed. Even the jacket was a size too big and smelled like stale sweat and cigarettes. But it was hers. Technically. She’d stolen all of it from Goodwill (she still wasn’t sure if that was stealing or not) because she didn’t want to take any more equipment from Brune’s meager supply. Most of the clothes he stocked wouldn’t fit her anyway. He outfitted magic users, sometimes even bounty hunters and mercenaries passing through NYC on a job, all of which meant he didn’t usually stock clothes for overly skinny seventeen-year-old girls.

  The only thing that would stand out about her was her hair, silver as a full moon. The one thing that (occasionally) saved her from the ridicule of the Supes. Plenty of Supe races had silver hair. Well, some, anyway, and she knew she wasn’t any of them. Unfortunately, so did most of the Supes where she lived. She’d had the color since she was born, had no idea why it was that way, and didn’t particularly care. She was who she was. She wasn’t going to let anyone tell her different.

  They reached the other side of the street and kept walking past the house’s front gate. If Aspen hadn’t lived in the boroughs her entire life she might not have even noticed it. Norms couldn’t get into the magical boroughs without help, but there were still plenty of supernatural beings living on their own out in the city. That meant strict rules on when they could use magic, and how best to hide themselves. It had taken years to subtly merge the Norm and supernatural until they were parallel. But unless you knew where to look, you’d never know the difference.

  Aspen scanned for a way they could get in.

  “Where are the other two chumps Hugo sent with you?” she said.

  “They’re around,” Snitch said. “Keeping lookout.”

  Aspen snorted. “You mean being useless.”

  “You know, the house was back ther—”

  “This way.”

  She took a sharp left, through a narrow opening between the outer wall of the house and the next building over. They shimmied between it until Aspen found a wider place to crouch. She immediately pulled out her iPod and working gloves.

  “What are you doing?” Snitch said.

  “My job.” Aspen scrolled to ‘Start Me Up’ on the iPod, pressed play, and set it on the ground. She pulled back her jacket and double-checked that all her gear was accounted for. Her knife was in its sheath, powders, pastes, and grappling gun secured, guns all loaded.

  “This place probably has alarm charms,” Snitch was saying. “Aren’t you going to do a countercharm?”

  Aspen slipped on the gloves and then cocked an eyebrow up at him. “I would if I could.”

  “If you could…” Snitch’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, you can’t use magic?”

  “Have you ever heard of me?”

  “I—of course I have! Tons of people have. But—”

  “And have you heard I’m good?”

  “Yes, but you can’t use—are you a Norm? You—Gah!”

  Snitch leapt back as the iPod twitched. Eight needle-like metal legs sprouted from the back. The front screen broke apart and re-formed to make compound eyes and a single tiny camera where the bottom port had been. Music filtered out of its grainy speakers, each lyric cobbled together to say,

  “Lady…Aspen…You look…lovely as…always.”

  “Stop it, I’m blushing.” Aspen jerked her head up to the top of the wall. “Check out their defenses, Charlotte.”

  The spider, Charlotte, immediately leapt onto the wall, its tiny legs digging into the stone, and scuttled up. Snitch watched it with revulsion until Aspen stood.

  “If you’re scared I can’t do what I’m good at you can cancel the job. I’ll still get paid my share, so it doesn’t bother me.”

  The pointy tips of Snitch’s ears flamed. “No. I just—Hugo didn’t mention what you were…”

  “I don’t exactly go spreading that I’m a magic-less Norm around everywhere.”

  Snitch continued staring at her for a little longer, then dropped his gaze. His reaction was milder than most. As she’d grown older, those in the magical boroughs—or in Ember’s Landing, at least—had treated her with something like grudging acceptance. She was here, and she wasn’t going anywhere. That didn’t mean they had to like it. Didn’t mean they had to treat her well. But at least most didn’t actively try to kill, maim, or steal her soul on sight.

  Most.

  “Lady…Aspen.”

  Aspen held her arm out and Charlotte lowered herself onto it by a thin cable wire. It tilted its ‘abdomen’ up until Aspen could see the screen. A single runic symbol popped up. Three chalk-like markings sketched into an interlocking pattern.

  “Huh. Pretty basic alarm charm for a place like that. Thanks, Char. Once the charms go down, get the back door unlocked for us.”

  The spider bobbed an affirmation and leapt back onto the wall. Aspen held up her right hand. A wheel of different runic symbols similar to the one Charlotte had shown her were etched onto a thin sheet of magi
cal conductive metal. Just another of her modified designs. The metal, like most of the parts for the things Aspen assembled, had been a pain in the butt to scrounge, build, or steal. But in the end, she’d wound up with an arsenal of thieving equipment even the top-trained mercenaries would be salivating to get their hands on.

  Aspen turned the wheel until the symbol for the counter-charm was facing front. She did the same for the other hand and then placed them both against the wall. With no innate magical power of her own, she’d had to make sure the gloves had been charged with enough magic. But this should do it…

  There was a sharp pulse of magic, shoving its way into the wall. A snap like a firecracker. The air filled with the acrid, charged stench of a broken charm. The faint shimmer of magic over the top of the wall faded.

  “Go,” Aspen said to Charlotte.

  The spider scuttled up the brick and vanished over the other side.

  “Did you…make those yourself?” Snitch asked.

  “Yes,” Aspen said. “We need to hurry. Chances are that won’t be the only charm this guy has and we need to be out before he gets back.”

  Aspen easily vaulted the wall then crouched on the other side to wait and scan their surroundings while Snitch clumsily clambered after. The back garden was an insane amount of luxury space for the city. It would have been unheard of even within a magical borough. She imagined whoever this was had used some sort of expansion charm. No easy feat. It meant he was rich enough to pay for it.

  Or powerful enough.

  “We clear?” Snitch whispered beside her. Aspen made another visual sweep of the yard. Trimmed hedges, ornate fountains, pool full of crystal blue water. She didn’t see the telltale shimmer of magic. Despite the lack of any magical talent of her own, she’d never had trouble feeling or spotting it.