Wounded Magic

by Megan Crewe

  Wounded Magic

  Conspiracy of Magic #2

  Megan Crewe

  Copyright © 2018 by Megan Crewe

  Cover design by Jennifer Munswami, J.M. RISING HORSE CREATIONS

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-989114-07-0

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-989114-06-3

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-989114-05-6

  To my readers, who make the magic in these books come to life

  Contents

  Free Book!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Next in the Conspiracy of Magic series

  The Way We Fall excerpt

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

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  Get Magic Unmasked, the prequel novella to the Conspiracy of Magic series, FREE when you sign up for Megan’s author newsletter.

  Click here to get your free ebook now!

  Chapter One

  Rocío

  The Mages’ Exam buildings didn’t look like the kind of place where sixteen-year-old novices were tortured and murdered. The hallway I followed Examiner Welch down gleamed spotlessly white. A crisp, ozone-y smell hung in the artificially chilled air. Our footsteps echoed only faintly on the polished floor, despite the quiet around us. I had to suppress the urge to hug myself.

  The whole space would’ve seemed bright and unassuming if I could have forgotten that this island used to be a prison. These buildings had been converted or rebuilt from the original structures. Who knew how much violence this hall had witnessed before the North American Confederation of Mages had taken it over and whitewashed it clean?

  I’d found the history of Rikers Island unnerving even before I’d crossed its bridge five days ago. Now, after everything I’d been through since then, the setting for the Exam felt perfectly fitting. And I couldn’t wait to leave it behind, even if what lay ahead might not be any more pleasant.

  Examiner Welch led me past several doors, but I didn’t hear a sound from behind any of them. At least nine of my fellow examinees—the nine who’d made it to the end of the Exam with me—should’ve been around here somewhere. The hush made me wonder if the examiners cast a muting ’chantment to keep whatever was going on in those other rooms private.

  Welch stopped at one of the doors and nudged it open, beckoning me ahead of him. “All of our examinees undergo a small procedure before returning to the outside world,” he said. “It’ll only take a few minutes, and then you can see your parents.”

  The room beyond him was about the size I figured a jail cell would’ve been, its walls as white as the hallway’s. A padded, slightly reclined chair like the ones at my dentist’s office stood in the middle of the room. Another mage, a middle-aged woman in the gray uniform all the examiners wore, waited beside the chair. She gave me a mild smile.

  They were going to need more than a smile to coax me into that chair. My legs balked. “What kind of procedure?”

  Welch’s ruddy face stayed blank, his tone measured, as if this were all completely reasonable. As if everything that had happened here was reasonable. “A ’chantment to prevent you from discussing the Exam beyond these walls. We value our confidentiality, Miss Lopez.”

  I bet they did. According to the official story, every year all the sixteen-year-old mages under the Confederation’s domain were fairly evaluated based on skill and temperament, and then either chosen to enter the Confed’s college or scheduled for Dampering: having all but a small portion of their magical ability wiped away. The Mages’ Exam was one last chance offered by the powers that be for any unchosen novice to prove themselves worthy of the college.

  Sure, everyone knew the trials were so brutal that not every novice even survived them. But I couldn’t think of anyone who’d have guessed the examiners would send us into actual battle—that they would trick us and then force us into killing people, that in the final stage they’d encourage us to turn on the examinees who’d fought at our sides. Their most closely guarded secret, though, had to be that even those of us who “won” a spot as Champion didn’t get into the college. The Exam was a recruiting and training ground for a magical special ops unit.

  Everyone in our society, magical and nonmagical, would freak out if they discovered that.

  Still, I hadn’t been prepared for the examiners to magically enforce our silence. My back stayed rigid as I stared at the padded chair. When I’d talked to a guy from school who’d gone through the Exam a few years ago, he’d said he couldn’t tell me anything. I’d assumed he’d been worried about facing punishment if he let the examiners’ secrets slip, but apparently he’d meant the “couldn’t” part literally.

  “The ’chantment will be quick and painless,” the woman by the chair said, still with that smile that I guessed she meant to be reassuring.

  As if I could trust that was true, or even that the ’chantment would only do what Welch had said, after all the lies I’d already been told. I wet my lips. I’d hoped to work around my position as Champion to find a way to expose what really happened here. That was going to be a hell of a lot harder if I couldn’t speak about anything I’d seen or been through.

  “Is there a problem?” Examiner Welch asked.

  “I wasn’t expecting it,” I said, scrambling to think of any excuse to get out of this. I came up pretty much blank. “Is it really necessary? I can keep quiet without any compulsion.”

  Somehow Welch managed to look skeptical and impassive at the same time. I’d been careful not to say anything too antagonistic about the Confed when they might hear, but after the defiant way I’d approached their trials, maybe I couldn’t blame him for not taking me at my word, either.

  “It’s policy,” he said. “You agreed to this by entering the Exam. It’ll be easier to conduct the ’chantment if you accept it willingly. Can we proceed?”

  It would’ve been nice if they’d let us read the fine print ahead of time. I dragged in a breath. The hum of energy in the air, like a faint but steady melody, wrapped around my shoulders to embrace me.

  I had more than just the people harmed by the Confed’s machinations to protect. The magic had reached out to me and pleaded with me to pay attention, to notice the way destructive castings hurt it as much as whatever they were destroying. I was the only one who’d felt its presence like that. If I lost my connection to the magic and it had no one else to speak up for it, it might completely die.

  I had no choice here. I had to play along like a good little soldier while I wa
tched for the right opportunities. There were ways to expose people without speaking. ’Chantments could be broken.

  “All right,” I said.

  I forced my legs to unlock and climbed into the chair. It was more comfortable than the dentist version, the padding silky soft instead of sticky plastic. I leaned my head back, trying to ignore the thump of my pulse.

  Welch shut the door, leaving me alone with the woman. A ’chantment like this, designed to permanently affect the mind in very specific ways, must take a huge amount of concentration. He wouldn’t want to distract her.

  “Close your eyes,” the mage suggested. I did it with a clench of my jaw. She leaned over me, singing a verse under her breath.

  The magic thrummed around us alongside her song. Bit by bit, it resonated with her intent and tingled into my forehead and scalp.

  The strands of magic didn’t affect my thoughts in any noticeable way. She hadn’t been lying about the painless part, at least. Would they be able to make the same promise to Finn when they brought him into one of these rooms to burn him out?

  My fingers started to curl into my palms. I willed them to relax before they turned into fists, but the ache of anger remained.

  Before I’d come here, Finn Lockwood had been just a boy I’d watched from afar in his academy’s library. A boy I’d never thought I’d even talk to because of the charmed old-magic life he obviously led. But he’d given up a Chosen spot to enter the Exam and prove he actually deserved that privilege; he’d pushed himself to his limits and stood by me every step of the way.

  With his bright smile and his wry honesty, he’d worked his way into my heart. If I ducked my head right now, I might still be able to catch a hint of his fresh sweet scent from our last embrace before Examiner Welch had called me away.

  Finn hadn’t made Champion, and anyone who failed the Exam got a fate worse than Dampering. Dampering at least left a mage able to cast a small range of spells focused around a speciality, like my father’s affinity for cooking and my mother’s for fabric and thread. Finn was going to have his entire ability to hearken and conduct magic burned out of him—utterly destroyed.

  He might not have a strong talent, but it was his. No one should have been allowed to take it away from him.

  “All done, Miss Lopez,” the mage said. “You’re ready to go.”

  My eyelids popped open. The woman had straightened up with another smile, but the fringe of hair along her forehead was damp with sweat from the effort of the casting.

  My hand rose to my temple automatically. “That’s it?” I said. No disorientation or dizziness hit me when I pushed out of the chair. Even the initial faint tingling of the ’chantment had faded.

  If they hadn’t told me what they were doing, there’d be no way for me to know they’d cast anything at all on me.

  “That’s all there is to it,” the mage said. “You’ll find you won’t be able to speak about your experiences in the Exam at all. You’ll also be restricted from discussing details of your upcoming training and missions with anyone other than colleagues. It’s best not to try to push past the limitations, or you may feel some side effects. The ’chantment shouldn’t interfere with other conversation.”

  I should’ve figured they’d cover my activities as Champion too. Welch hadn’t bothered to mention that part.

  He was waiting for me in the hall. After a quick glance up and down as if he could see whether the ’chantment had worked by looking at me, he set off at a brisk pace. I hurried after him. He’d said I’d get to see my parents now. My hand jumped up to clasp the sunburst necklace Mom had given me right before I’d headed into the Exam.

  They must have been so worried the last five days. Mom hadn’t wanted me to declare for the Exam at all, and I couldn’t imagine Dad had either, even if he’d kept quiet about his disapproval. They’d already lost one child to these trials: my older brother, Javier.

  But they hadn’t lost me. That was one victory won. The examiners and their old-magic prejudices hadn’t managed to beat me down. All the pain I’d been through, all the pain I’d put them through, would be worth it if I could stop other families from facing the same thing.

  Welch turned a corner and pushed open a door. Muggy summer heat wafted over me. I stepped out into the courtyard between the main Exam buildings, all of them as white on the outside as they were inside. The late afternoon sun seared my eyes. It wasn’t even that bright, but I hadn’t seen anything except artificial light in days.

  A gasp and hasty footsteps reached my ears. I blinked away the natural brilliance to see my parents rushing over, so familiar the sight wrenched at my chest. I threw myself into their arms.

  “Rocío!” Mom cried. “¡Gracias a Dios!” She hugged me first, swift and tight, and then Dad did, with a long squeeze. A sugary scent drifted from him. Or from the bag he was clutching, which he pushed into my hands when he stepped back.

  “I didn’t have time to bake anything for you myself,” he said, sounding a little choked. “But I thought you might appreciate something better than whatever they’ve fed you here. I’ll whip up a proper congratulations dinner when you’re home.”

  The bag held one of the buttery cinnamon rolls from our favorite bakery a couple blocks from our apartment. Suddenly I was choking up.

  “Dad…”

  He wrapped his arms around me again. “We’re so thankful you’ve come back to us, mija. Come back to us, and as Champion. You’ll be able to do everything you wanted.”

  My throat constricted even more. They had no idea. They thought I was heading off to the college to study and develop my magic. That dream had died the moment an evaluator had marked me for Dampering, deciding my talent and my new-magic background were too big a threat for me to remain a full part of the Confed.

  Mom’s gaze settled on the sunburst necklace. The gold was faintly singed, one of the jagged points curved to the side where the heat of a casting had melted it. A casting that had been intended to kill me.

  “Are you all right?” she said. “They told us you were, but you never know…” She made a vague gesture that managed to encompass the unpredictable authority of the Confed as represented by the buildings all around us.

  “Yeah.” What else could I say when they were looking at me like that? “Yeah, I’m okay.” My thumb dropped to rub the little finger that the examiners’ magimedics had reconstructed. I couldn’t count how many cuts, bruises, and burns they’d whisked away.

  I probably didn’t sound enthusiastic enough. Mom frowned. “What did they put you through in there, cariño?”

  Without thinking, I opened my mouth. I hadn’t been going to say anything all that secret, just a couple of the less horrifying details to put off further questions, but my jaw froze. My vocal chords went still.

  The ’chantment that’d just been laid on me was definitely working. My pulse stuttered as I scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t activate it.

  “I can’t really talk about it. Lots of tests, some of them hard.” They sent monsters after us. They turned innocent people into walking bombs that we had to kill or face being killed ourselves. They crushed one of my teammates into a pulp with a mass of ’chanted vines. I shrugged, hoping the memory of Judith’s shrieks wasn’t coloring my expression.

  “You came out on top,” Dad said. “That’s what matters.”

  Examiner Welch strolled over to us. For the first time, I took in the rest of the courtyard. It wasn’t just me and my parents here. Prisha, Finn’s best friend and another of my teammates, was standing at the other end of the yard surrounded by a group I guessed were her parents and a few brothers and sisters. Her dad’s deep voice rolled across the space as he declared something “brilliant!”

  The four other Champions mustn’t have had family who lived close enough to make it here for an immediate reunion. Prisha and I were the only two local to New York—possibly the only two from the whole Northeast.

  “You have an hour,” Welch reminded us. “It’s im
perative that the Champions meet with their tutors and begin their transition into college life as quickly as possible.”

  Mom pursed her lips. I knew she was thinking that I could probably already cast my way around most of the novices the Confed had chosen for their college, but the examiners would’ve warned them ahead of time that this would be a short visit.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wish we could have that dinner now.” I wished I could have just one night in my bed at home before my new instructors hustled me off, not to college but to my military training.

  “It’s all right,” Mom said, squeezing my arm. “We understand how important this is to you. Your happiness matters more to us than anything.”

  My happiness. So much for that. My stomach curled around itself into a massive knot.

  “It’s a very immersive program,” Welch said. “She’ll have time to visit every few weeks once the initial transition period is complete.”

  Dad’s head snapped up. “Every few weeks?”

  Welch offered him the same impassive expression he’d given me when I’d balked at the silencing ’chantment. “That information should have been conveyed when you were notified.”

  “Yes, but—I assumed in our case—we live in Brooklyn. The college isn’t even an hour away. Can’t she at least come home for weekends?”