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

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Mage's Apprentice (Mages of New York Book 1) Page 21

by Sean Fletcher


  “Thanks,” Tana said in a quiet voice, stacking books beside her. “If we’d told him about a new section he’d wonder how we’d found out. Who’d we’d found out from. Lucien doesn’t care what I am. He doesn’t even have that big a problem with me visiting June, but he doesn’t think she’s a good influence. He thinks if I don’t dwell on my little Vampee problem then I can pretend as if everything’s normal. That I’m normal.”

  “Like that’s ever worked.”

  Tana shrugged. “He’s like a father, but he can be a bit naïve on some things. Still, he has a good heart.”

  Aspen glanced at her. Like a father. As if putting her faith in the man as much as someone would their father was as simple as that.

  “That’s…I suppose that’s good.” Aspen said, realizing that Lucien, in his own way, had shown he’d cared for her in a similar manner. He’d done as Brune would have, given the situation. He’d been annoying, infuriating, and, on occasion, a bully. But never with any malice. Only a desire to see her safe.

  And he’d saved her, more than once. Saved her when others would have thrown her aside, put her up for lost. It was…Aspen wasn’t sure what it was, but it made her feel uncomfortable in the sort of way she was sure was causing some kind of internal growth inside her or some crap like that. “I’m glad he cares,” she added lamely.

  “Yep, he does,” Tana said. “Too much sometimes, if you ask me.”

  Tana began setting the books on the table. She retied the hair band June had given her before picking up the first text off the top of the stack. “Well…see you when I see you.”

  If anything, the Celtic text was even worse.

  Older and denser, the pages were often smudged or in desperate need of repair. Some were written completely in Gaelic, others in Norse, and most tackled legends of mythology, with long, obtrusive words that rolled off her tongue as well as a square rock. While many of the things Norms thought of as myth were actually true, these were not. Tales of gods and formulation of the world and alternate realms. Aspen had trouble believing that any of it had ever existed.

  It was mid-afternoon when Aspen plopped her head into the book she’d been trying to muddle through. She was hungry. Her head spun with Gaelic and runes and ancient words, and none of it, absolutely none of it, made any sense.

  “You too?” Tana said.

  Tana had once again made a space in the top shelf and curled up in it. She raised her head sleepily. “I got stuck on leprechauns.”

  “Yes,” Aspen mumbled into the pages, “when the downfall of our society comes, it will be from little green men with hoarding issues.”

  Tana stretched like a cat, yawning, showing off those wicked incisors. She swung her legs around and dropped to the floor, knocking a book off the shelf as she did so. She picked the book up and started to return it to its place.

  “Wait.”

  Tana paused. Aspen stared at the cover. A symbol was etched on the leather front: claws curling around a single blood red dot. Something about it was achingly familiar. “Let me see that.”

  This book wasn’t as old as many of the others, but still the pages cracked darkly as Aspen opened them, Tana hovering over her shoulder.

  “Beings of Alternate Planes,” Tana read on the title page.

  “Alternate planes? Haven’t read much about that.”

  “That’s ‘cause there aren’t a lot of magical beings who worry about it. Planes are usually the realm of the summoners, Fae, and high-level demons and angels. And all of them know better than to screw with whatever beings are on the other side.”

  But did they? Because Aspen knew, she knew, she’d seen the symbol somewhere before. But where stubbornly eluded her.

  It was a thick text, almost as dense as the others, but thankfully written in old English. Aspen scanned the pages. A name stood out on the very first one:

  “Maladias,” Aspen said.

  “The Lord of Shadows,” Tana said. She snorted. “Can you get any more cliché? What is he, a Dungeons and Dragons villain?”

  “He’s a dark deity,” Aspen read. “Skilled in the dark magic, he constantly seeks a way to enter our plane, determined to consume other magic users to increase his own power. Is this for real? I’ve never heard of anything—”

  “That’s him.”

  Aspen and Tana jumped. Neither had heard Lucien and Isak approach.

  Lucien leaned over and plucked the book from Aspen’s hands. “Celtic magic,” he muttered as he flipped through the pages. His expression darkened the more he read. “I should have guessed. Where did you find this?”

  Aspen pointed to the shelf. Lucien walked over, leaving Isak beside them, a semi-worried expression on his face.

  “You know anything about this Maladias guy?” Aspen said as Lucien began pulling other books off the shelf and checking them.

  Isak shrugged. “Somewhat. I’ve heard a little, but he’s not anyone Xavier’s taught me about. I guess he thought I wouldn’t ever have to worry about it. I know Maladias is considered one of the greatest enemies of free magic.”

  Without a word, Lucien straightened from the shelf and walked off. Aspen exchanged confused glances with Tana and Isak.

  “Maybe he’s going to check something else out?” Tana said.

  “Or that Maladias guy has got him worried,” Isak said.

  “I’ll be right back,” Aspen said, taking off after Lucien.

  She found him in a small, enclosed, glass study room. He’d placed the book in front of him on the desk and had his head bent before it, eyes closed, deep in thought.

  Aspen stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You know, you can’t mysteriously slink off after we discover an ancient magic bad guy and not expect us to have some questions.”

  Lucien grunted. He slowly drew his head up. “Sorry.”

  “No you’re not, you’re distracted.” Aspen took a seat at the end of the table. She leaned over and tapped the top of the book. “What’s up? Maladias sounds like a bad dude, but you’ve handled bad dudes before, right? And it’s not like he’s here yet. We can still stop Hugo before he takes down the wards and brings him—”

  “Enough about Hugo, Aspen,” Lucien said. “This is out of Hugo’s league.”

  Aspen bit her tongue. After all the reading she’d done and knowing now that it might potentially be Maladias coming through, she was apt to agree with him. Hugo wasn’t this ambitious. But he was a possibility. A place to start.

  Or he was a dead end, and the only reason she wanted to go after him was maybe, just maybe, her own petty revenge.

  She’d…wait until she was dead certain she was wrong before sharing that with Lucien.

  Aspen tapped the book again. “Tell me about Maladias.”

  Lucien rubbed his temples. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

  “Not the worst name anyone’s called me. Spill.”

  Lucien’s dower expression split into a reluctant smile. “You got me. Not too much to tell, because, believe it or not, I don’t know much. He’s an Ancient, a false deity, a planes walker, whatever you want to call him. Some in the Courts even consider him a High Fae. It doesn’t matter, he’s bad news. That’s why I’m sure he’s whatever is after New York.”

  “But the Mages would have noticed if something like that was coming back,” Aspen protested. “Wouldn’t they?”

  Lucien was quiet for a moment. “Maybe not. Beings like Maladias don’t ‘come back.’ He’s always been there, just on the other side of one plane or another, waiting for the opportunity to cross over into our plane. Chances are, Maladias is gathering enough power to strike New York and take out the seat of magic there. And he could. If those wards go down, he’ll have enough strength to make it over and manifest a body on this side. Even the Mages would have trouble sending him back then.”

  “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

  Lucien looked over at her. He crossed one leg over the next, leaning back in his chair. A classic tell
of an uncomfortable subject if Aspen had ever seen it. “I’ve dealt with Maladias before.”

  “Wait, you’ve fought—”

  “No, there was no fighting. The magical New York, heck, the Norm New York as we know it today, probably wouldn’t be the same if we’d had to fend him off once before. He sent an envoy. This was a little after I’d first started as a Mage. The magical boroughs were there, but we were restructuring them, putting newer rules in place, tightening old ones.”

  Aspen snorted. “Sorry,” she said when Lucien gave her a grouchy look. “I just can’t imagine the Mages…you know, putting rules in.”

  Even Lucien chuckled at that. “This was before things got really bad with them. During the restructuring, a couple of the Mages thought it’d be a good idea to let some of the supernatural races petition to be allowed into the borough.”

  “And let me guess who showed up.”

  Lucien snapped his fingers at her. “Exactly. An envoy from Maladias. As well as some from a few Nephilim, one of the Four Fiends, a High Fae. All big guys. But not all of them that applied were bad, though. The Council assigned me with Xavier to vet the applicants.”

  Aspen reeled back. “You and Xavier?”

  “I wasn’t exactly a fan of it either.” Lucien chuckled again. “You might not have noticed, but there’s no love lost between him and me. But we were the newest Mages. We denied most who applied, but Maladias tried to make us a deal. Said that if we let him through, he’d grant us ultimate power. Enough to reform the world in whatever image we desired.”

  “If there was any world left after he was done.”

  “Smart kid. Needless to say, we told him to shove off. He wasn’t a fan of that. My guess is he’s been stewing ever since, just biding his time to come over. But now it seems like he’s managed to convince someone on this side to help him out.” Lucien sighed. “But while we speculate, I have a good idea what’s coming next.”

  He turned the book around and tapped a page.

  “The Kings of Maladias,” Aspen said, reading the jaggedly abrupt writing at the bottom. She tilted her head. Just looking at the scratchy, almost-byzantine drawings of humanoid, horned denizens and wide, fanged mouths was enough to make her anxious. “They’re ugly suckers, aren’t they?”

  “They’re his foot soldiers,” Lucien said. “Pretty sure they, at least, are High Fae, slaves to Maladias. There’re three or four of them, last I checked.”

  “Wait…like the four—”

  “Horsemen? The comparison is apt, but no. If those were coming back we’d really be screwed.”

  Aspen tried to tell if Lucien was joking. He looked serious.

  “The Kings are just supremely powerful beings, not acts of God, thankfully. Two the Council know of are the King of Silence and the King of Worms. I think there’s one more, the King of Desolation.”

  “Not one for creative license, are they?” Aspen said. “They go straight for the literal.”

  Lucien didn’t crack a smile. “My guess is, if that barrier goes down the Kings are the first ones through. They’ll come ‘prepare the way.’ Make sure there’s no resistance for when Maladias arrives.”

  “But how are we supposed to stop that?” Aspen said, a note of panic in her voice.

  “We stop the wards from going down. But Aspen, I know I’ve said it before, but I promise you, whatever happens, I’ll make sure you get out all right.”

  Aspen met his eyes. They were filled with sincerity.

  He’s like a father, but he can be a bit naïve on some things. Still, he has a good heart.

  “Aspen?”

  “I believe you,” Aspen said. She gently punched him on the shoulder. “But let’s try to make sure it doesn’t come to that, okay? I’d hate to owe you anything else.”

  Lucien smiled. “Sounds fair to me.”

  It had been hours, and Lucien still hadn’t come out of the study room, still poring over a few more texts he’d had Adelade collect. It was odd, Aspen thought, how he didn’t immediately go running back to the Council with the information. He’d seemed so certain it was Maladias, so then why not?

  But there was nothing she could do but wait until he was done. So Aspen had napped. Then she’d crumpled up bits of old parchment and tried to entertain herself by shooting baskets into the waste bin until Adelade had returned and furiously confiscated everything. Then Aspen had done nothing at all, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the dark ceiling.

  They should have been going back by now. Should have been alerting the Council right away about this grave threat and finally, finally going to get Hugo. She swore, the minute they were home she’d go over to Hugo’s place and apprehend him herself if she had to. Yet Lucien hadn’t seemed to be in that big a rush anymore. Almost like he hadn’t wanted the Council to know. Almost like he suspected…

  “You want to go with me?”

  Aspen dragged her head up to find Tana standing there. “Sorry?”

  “I’m going back to June’s. Did you want to join me?”

  And be tortured for hours about what a nobody outcast half-breed with a responsibility to undesirables everywhere she was? No thanks. Tana might be getting some reassurance from June, but if Aspen wanted to suffer like that again then there was actual torture instead.

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  Tana nodded, almost relieved. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

  Then she was gone, almost without a sound. Aspen continued looking at the space where she’d stood, then beyond it to the stacks where Lucien was, presumably, still rustling away between pages. She should go try to help him. This affected all of them, Norm or not. It didn’t even matter if she was ‘fighting for those who didn’t like her’ or however June the Buzzkill had not-so-elegantly worded it. Magical or Norm, Maladias wasn’t healthy for any of them.

  But Lucien had made it clear he didn’t want her help. Not in his words, but the way he practically shut off her assistance at every turn. He might have been looking out for her, but that was as long as she stayed put and did exactly what he said. She knew he was doing it because…because…

  Still, he has a good heart.

  He needed her.

  But not really.

  She was his apprentice.

  But only when it was convenient.

  Her help was invaluable.

  But he could do it without her.

  And again, why did she care? Lucien meant…Lucien meant…

  Aspen rocked to standing. She listened once more for any sign of movement, but there was nothing.

  She needed a walk. To escape these dusty confines of words and thoughts.

  She left the Special Collections and passed through the Baroque hall until she was outside, the raw air blowing away the dust clouding her mind. It was night. The entire city was lit like a glittering jewel, just waiting for her to explore.

  “Behold, an escapee.”

  Isak pushed off the outside library wall. He was smirking at her, his dark hair and eyes almost seductive in the low light.

  Even as her stomach gave an odd trill, Aspen said, “Great, and there’s the other one. Aren’t you supposed to be helping Lucien?”

  “I should be asking you that. You’re his apprentice.”

  “I’m surprised he let you out of his sight for this long.”

  “You’re assuming he knows I’m gone.” His eyes fell to her hands, tucked deep within the pockets of her coat. “I see you haven’t pulled your knife yet. I’d say that’s already an improvement to the last few times you greeted me.”

  “Those times were justified.”

  “Without a doubt.” Isak jerked his head towards the old town square. “Care if I join you?”

  Aspen took off without a word, and a moment later Isak caught up, matching her stride for stride.

  Prague was even more beautiful at night. The historical buildings were washed with lights from below, casting the building’s faces in stark effervescence. The streets were packed de
spite the late hour. Aspen kept her eyes open for the telltale shimmer of supernatural beings, but if there were any, they hid themselves well.

  After a half hour of wandering down the network of side streets along the river, they crossed Charles bridge.

  “I never thought a being like Maladias would try for New York,” Isak said, breaking the silence. “I never thought New York would ever be vulnerable.”

  “It’s not. Not yet.”

  “Lucky you found out about him when you did. Now we have a chance.”

  We?

  Aspen paused in the center of the bridge, letting the passersby brush past her. Isak walked a little farther before turning to look at her.

  “Problem?”

  Aspen opened her mouth, but the words crashing around in her mind wouldn’t come. They were lodged in her throat behind a dam of confusion. Confusion about…she tried to pinpoint it, to be as ruthless in her assessment of herself as she was during a job.

  Isak. That’s what was bothering her. Not him, but…how she felt about him. It wasn’t something she had ever felt before. It wasn’t something she particularly liked, these rampant emotions. Especially about him.

  “Maladias is coming…” Aspen said slowly, giving herself time to put her thoughts into words. “But what about…”

  Isak stepped closer. In the lamplight she could see every crease in his furrowed brow.

  “About…?”

  Aspen pulled out her wrist, the one she’d used to Bond with him. It had stopped physically hurting, but every time she looked at it she swore she could feel it pulse in time with her heart. “We’re still Bonded. We’ll still have to kill each other.”

  Isak gave a crooked smile, as if relieved that was the only thing bothering her. “We won’t if the assessment is disbanded. Aspen, if Maladias is actually coming back, screw the contest. They’ll need every Mage and Mage’s apprentice to help. They won’t risk losing us in some dumb competition.”

  “But I’m not a Mage’s apprentice!” Aspen protested, loud enough that those passing by glanced over. A few quickly hurried away, and she could almost hear them think, Couple’s fight. Not that she minded that…

 

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