Mageborn: An absolutely gripping fantasy novel (The Hollow King Book 1)

by Jessica Thorne

Ellyn wielded her swords like a dancer. They spun around her as she pirouetted, her pale hair flying out like a veil. Two of the swordsmen tried to engage her, one going down in a tangled heap almost immediately. The other held on, barely.

  Childers hacked at his opponents, an older, more brutal school of fighting than the Valenti islander. He fought dirty and hard, just like always, a style – if you could call it a style – learned on the streets of Rathlynn.

  They dived into the colonnade on the far side of the square, snatching a moment’s cover. Grace shoved the prince unceremoniously behind her. At the far end was a lane leading towards narrower streets and more cover. They could make that. She pointed at it and Daniel nodded.

  ‘There are more mageborn among them,’ Bastien told her.

  Was that what she was feeling? Beyond her normal instincts, beyond years of reading the city and its streets.

  ‘What kind?’

  He tilted his head to one side, cat-like. ‘Zephyr… probably the archer. And a Charm, I think or a Shade. And a Flint. A strong one or that explosion wouldn’t have been more than a puff of smoke.’

  Grace swore under her breath. Three mageborn was three too many, especially with a Charm and a Flint. A Charm could persuade anyone of anything. A Shade would be even worse. Maybe there were more. The swordsmen had scattered.

  ‘Reinforcements will be on the way,’ Daniel said, but he didn’t look convinced. They weren’t even far from the Academy, and the Temple bells were ringing in alarm. This much mageborn activity was bound to attract attention, not to mention the fight happening all around them. Arrows came raining down again, forcing Ellyn and Childers to cease pursuit and take cover on the far side of the road.

  Ellyn sprinted towards them, but a wall of flames rose in front of her and she shied back. Childers broke right, down another laneway leading towards the docks. He’d circle back to them, she knew that. It was protocol. But she didn’t like this. They were splitting up and that wasn’t good. Almost like they were being corralled.

  ‘Grace,’ Daniel yelled. ‘Grace, where are you?’

  ‘Daniel?’ She couldn’t see him. Or Bastien. They’d been right behind her a second ago. They couldn’t have gone. But she couldn’t see them now. The lane ahead was dark with shadows. Had he gone down there? Had he gone ahead of her? Damn it. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

  Grace rounded the corner and it felt like running into a brick wall. She fell back, sprawling on the ground, dazed as a man loomed from the shadows. Mageborn, definitely, a Brawn, and bigger than Kai, like a bear standing over her, magic enhancing his strength. She reached for her sword but he stood on the blade before she could lift it.

  ‘Stay down, Academy,’ he said. ‘Stay out of the way. It’ll be over soon.’

  ‘What’ll be over?’

  ‘We just want him. Nothing was said about you. Just…’ But his voice trailed off as he looked at her. ‘Well now, that changes things.’

  He wasn’t wearing a collar but that wasn’t a surprise. He wasn’t the only one using magic either. For a brief moment she thought with a burst of hope that it might be Bastien. The shadows were darkening, thickening like fog around them.

  The Brawn reached down and, before she could gather her wits, grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up off the ground.

  ‘Found it!’ he shouted and he shook her for good measure as she choked in his grip and failed to kick her way free.

  Another man coalesced out of the shadows. No question that he was mageborn. A Shade. The shadows danced around him.

  They dragged her out to the centre of the square, where the arrows were scattered about.

  ‘Tell the Lord of Thorns to surrender,’ the Shade said in a flat voice. She hadn’t seen a Shade in years, not one with abilities like this. He left the world feeling cold and desperate, draining it of life and laughter, darkening everything. His touch was fear itself. Grace desperately pushed away the descriptions from the texts in the Academy, all the horrors they could inflict, and tried to dredge up the sections on their weaknesses. Her mind was blank. The fear that just being near him brought out froze her mind. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. Shades, like Gores and Barrows, were the stuff of nightmare.

  The brute dropped her but the shadows moved like snakes, twisting around her, pinning her arms to her side, tightening around her chest. The Shade had her now. All her weapons and sigils were useless.

  ‘Grace!’ Bastien yelled from wherever Daniel had made him take cover.

  ‘There you are,’ the Shade laughed. ‘Come out, my lord, or we’ll have her make you come out.’

  ‘I’m doing nothing for you. Don’t listen to them, Bastien.’

  The vine of shadows tightened around her throat and the end reared up like a snake and plunged into her mouth. She gasped for air, her vision darkening.

  ‘You don’t need her,’ Bastien shouted. Why wasn’t Daniel shutting him up? ‘The warrant commands me. Take it and let her go. I’ll cooperate. I swear.’

  She would have cursed him for telling them if she could have found the air to curse. What kind of idiot was he, telling them his weakness? She struggled, trying to tear herself free, the fire inside her trying to build. It was useless. It would never be strong enough. This was not how she wanted to go out, helpless, exposed, used as bait.

  ‘Take the warrant,’ the Shade ordered his Brawn. The two of them worked as a pair, but there was no doubt who was in command. ‘Give it to me.’

  The Brawn grinned at her as he flicked open her shirt. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Shadows crammed into her mouth, forced their way down her throat, even as they crushed it from the outside. Burning tears filled her eyes, frustration and rage making them boil. She wanted to scream, needed to scream, needed to breathe.

  His meaty hand closed over the warrant. And he seemed to freeze, all at once, his grin turning brittle and stretching too wide. His eyes grew round in panic, bulged. He tried to jerk back from her, whether to pull the warrant free or simply get away she didn’t know.

  And then he burst into flames. He went up like a great torch in front of her. He didn’t scream or try to run. He didn’t even move. He couldn’t. Flames devoured him, eating away at his skin, the fat and muscle underneath melting, the bones charring until they turned to ash. The stench filled her nostrils.

  At some point, he fell. Or crumbled.

  The warrant dropped back against her chest where it hung still. She could feel the icy weight of it through her jerkin, so cold it even sucked the warmth from her skin.

  The Shade staggered back, appalled and horrified, but he didn’t release her. He wasn’t a fool. As a captive, she was all the insurance he had left.

  ‘What are you?’ His voice was stricken.

  ‘Dev!’ another of the conspirators yelled to him from overhead, the archer, wherever he was. But the warning came too late.

  Bastien Larelwynn attacked in a blur of movement. The sword he’d borrowed from the Academy had never moved like that since its forging. Zavi and the weapons master would have wept to see the skill, deadly beauty enshrined in every movement.

  It lasted only seconds. Whoever had trained him had taught him not to show off or mess around, an approach of which she approved. He took the Shade’s head off with one blow.

  The shadows crushing Grace vanished and before she could fall Bastien caught her. He dragged her to the shelter of the arcade on the edge of the market square.

  ‘Did you… did you do that?’ she asked, her voice broken and hurt.

  ‘No.’

  Then something even worse occurred to her. ‘Did I?’

  ‘Grace,’ he smoothed back her hair from her face, looking down on her like she was something precious. No, that couldn’t be right. ‘You aren’t strong enough for that.’

  ‘No… no I’m not…’ She tried to heave in a breath, but it hurt. Everything hurt. ‘You knew it would kill him. You knew.’

  ‘I gues
sed. It protects itself. And you. Can you move? Here,’ he moved as if to touch her forehead. She felt the magic rise in him. Her hand snapped up to catch his wrist, holding him away.

  ‘No. No magic,’ she barked and pulled herself free.

  ‘I can help.’

  ‘I’m sure you can. But no magic.’ Her legs felt like jelly and she couldn’t seem to make herself breathe properly, not really, although it was easing. She’d recover. She knew she would. When she got to her feet she almost went down again.

  ‘I’ll carry you.’

  ‘If you carry me anywhere in front of my squad, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.’

  As it was, he had to help her. Daniel dragged both of them the rest of the way into the lane. Childers had found them and Ellyn limped behind him. ‘Just a scratch,’ she said. ‘One of the arrows. I’m fine.’

  Grace nodded, accepting it. ‘We need to get to Eastferry, along the docks.’

  ‘You want to go through the dodgiest part of the city?’ Childers growled.

  ‘Do you have a better idea?’

  ‘We stay put. The Temple’s sanctuary. They won’t—’

  Fire blasted up the side of the wall beside them, licking the eaves. ‘Really? Won’t they? We won’t make it back there.’

  ‘Can you see him?’ Bastien asked. ‘Any of them? The mageborn? They’re going to come after us.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Because they’re trying to kill me.’

  ‘Popular hobby, is it?’

  Bastien gave his crooked smile. ‘Very.’

  Grace shook off their nonsense. Who had sent them? Why? So many questions and they didn’t have a moment to ask them, let alone wait for an answer. ‘This way. Stay close. With me, all of you.’

  The narrow lane took them under an arcade of crafters’ shops and out of the range of the archer.

  As they ducked out of the far end, into the open plaza between them and Eastferry, Childers gave a shout of warning. The arrow took him in the neck a second later. He collapsed, blood pumping from the wound.

  ‘Do something,’ Ellyn yelled, pulling him back under cover. He gurgled something, grabbing at her jacket, and then he went still. Ellyn’s face crumpled and she held him for a moment.

  Without pause, Bastien leaned down and pulled the arrow free, ignoring Ellyn’s cry of outrage. Daniel stepped between them as she surged up but Bastien didn’t seem to notice. He held the arrow close, whispering over it, and then hurled it into the air. It flew from his hands as if he had fired it from a longbow himself.

  There was a distant cry, a noise of pain and betrayal.

  ‘Come on,’ he said and strode out across the plaza. ‘Before the Flint finds us.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I sent his arrow back to him, with interest. I doubt he’s dead but he won’t be a problem for a while. The other one though…’

  Again, a million questions. None of which she had time to ask and which he didn’t have time to answer. If he even had the inclination. How had he done that? How was it even possible?

  The fire was spreading, leaping from building to building, the Flint whipping it up to try to trap them. This area was a tinder box. He’d see the whole city burn if it meant it got them too, of that Grace had no doubt.

  Eastferry wasn’t far. There were places to hide. They could make it. If they moved now.

  ‘With me,’ she told them. ‘Stay close and keep moving.’

  ‘We need to raise the alarm,’ Ellyn said.

  ‘I think you can consider it raised, Ellyn. Move quickly and quietly. Now.’

  They moved as one, in a rush, pitching downhill into Eastferry, the place everyone went to hide. The one place most of the guards didn’t go, because why would they? The whole of Eastferry was gangland, and the best place in the city if you needed to vanish. Grace nodded to Daniel to take the lead.

  ‘Danny? Is Kurt still top dog?’

  He grimaced. ‘Better hope so. Just stay behind me and shut up, okay? He hasn’t forgiven you for the last time.’

  ‘Hood up, your highness,’ said Ellyn. ‘Or they’re going to eat you alive.’

  The moment they entered, Misha Harper was up on his feet, running towards Daniel. ‘There you are! I thought… I mean… I was afraid…’

  Daniel just held him close and Grace decided to look the other way, into the depths of the Larks’ Rest, the seediest of seedy bars in Eastferry.

  Kurt’s place hadn’t changed. Never had, and probably never would. It was the same sticky-floored haunt of misery it always was. The girls looked jaded, the barman looked belligerent and the customers, such as they were, studied their pints and didn’t make eye contact at all. Uniforms had that effect, especially here. Kurt sat in his usual booth at the back, his legs splayed wide, his arms behind his head. He probably had at least one knife hidden behind him. Grace would have been disappointed if he hadn’t.

  ‘Hello Duchess,’ he said, fixing her with his trademark leer. ‘Been a while.’

  ‘Hello Kurt,’ she replied. She was tempted to add ‘not long enough’ but she needed him on side.

  He gave Bastien a long assessing look but when Bastien didn’t react at all he turned his attention back on her. ‘So, what’ve you dragged my baby brother into this time, Duchess?’

  Duchess. Because her name was Grace and duchesses were ‘your grace’. Because he’d called her that from the first moment she met him, when he’d dumped Daniel at the Academy, even though he wasn’t much older himself. Goddess forbid he ever just called her by her name.

  ‘She’s a captain now, Kurt,’ Daniel interrupted. Like that was going to impress him.

  ‘Captain? Well, aren’t you on the up? Company you’re keeping, I hear.’

  So, he had heard. Which meant he had a good idea who Bastien really was. Damn.

  ‘We’re just passing through, Kurt. We don’t want any trouble.’

  He unfurled his arms, and pushed himself up to stand. He had always towered over her. ‘Looks like you brought it though. They’re hunting rogue mageborn, as I heard it. But they don’t sound too rogue to me. More like… the ones doing the hunting.’

  ‘Is there a price on our heads?’ Daniel asked. Misha flinched when he said it, the colour draining from his handsome face, his mouth opening in shock. Grace pushed down the urge to slap him and tell him to grow up.

  Kurt shrugged. ‘Some of you. Not you, Danny-boy. I think they’re treating you as just collateral damage. Shame they don’t know who you are. I’ll have to see to that.’

  Little brother to one of the sharpest gang leaders in Rathlynn, that was who Daniel was. They didn’t speak of it. He didn’t acknowledge it and Kurt had never asked anything of him. Not yet anyway. Grace was pretty sure it was just a matter of time. When the time came, when the score was big enough, when Kurt had nowhere else to turn…

  Maybe he just wanted to protect his brother. Maybe. That was his line anyway.

  ‘Please don’t,’ Daniel said but Kurt just grinned at him.

  ‘And you?’ He finally fixed his attention on Bastien again. Grace had known it was coming.

  Bastien met his gaze without flinching. ‘Just trying to get home.’

  A slow, knowing smile spread over Kurt’s face. ‘Are you now? Well, that might be worth a favour someday.’

  Bastien gave a terse nod. ‘Many things are.’ His reply was cool and Grace wished he’d just shut up. He didn’t know how to talk to someone like Kurt Parry. Many of the ones who got it wrong ended up in the harbour with their throats cut.

  Not that she thought even Kurt would have the nerve to do that to the Lord of Thorns.

  They glared at each other, neither one willing to give an inch. Grace had seen enough pissing matches in her life to know they never ended well. Whatever masculine face-off was going on between them made her cringe. Daniel moved off to the side of the room with Misha, talking to him with quiet urgency, reassuring the harper or at least
trying to. It didn’t seem to be going terribly well. Ellyn was already at the bar, ordering the strongest liquor they had. That’s when Grace noticed her hands, shaking and fidgeting, her breath short and sudden.

  She joined her. ‘Ellyn?’

  ‘Sorry boss. Sorry…’ She knotted fingers together, trying to stop them betraying her. It was far too late. ‘I just… I’ve known him for years.’

  Grace pulled her into a hug. They’d only just lost Kai, and now Childers too.

  ‘It’s okay. Have a drink. Just not too much. I need you ready to go whenever…’ She glanced over her shoulder at the two men. ‘Whenever they’re finished.’

  ‘We need to lie low, boss,’ she said. ‘At least until nightfall.’

  ‘You can wait upstairs,’ said Kurt, approaching them. ‘No one will bother you. Or find you. Just don’t drink me out of house and home, Ellyn.’

  Ellyn smiled brightly, all shock and grief suddenly masked. She, too, knew better than to show any weakness to him. Only Daniel could get away with that.

  ‘I doubt you have enough booze at the best of times, mate. Not drinkable, anyway.’

  Kurt laughed. ‘Get them whatever they want, Halyk. Do you want food? Scarlet makes a mean omelette.’

  ‘Ooh, prostitute omelette,’ Ellyn cooed. ‘You’re spoiling us.’

  ‘Your loss. Snob.’

  Considering Ellyn had grown up in the same sort of tenement as the Parrys, ‘snob’ was a stretch. They continued bickering good-naturedly. It was soothing somehow, especially for Ellyn.

  Grace felt Bastien move towards her rather than saw him. It was just the sense of him, the way she felt his presence. Like a shadow. Like a glow.

  ‘Shouldn’t we be on the move?’ he asked.

  ‘Not yet. We’re exposed out there. Eastferry will keep us safe for a few hours. We’ll set off again after dark.’

  ‘After dark?’ He shook his head. She wasn’t having this argument with him. He could just bloody well do what she said for once.

  ‘Go upstairs. I’ll find some food and something to drink.’

  ‘Yes.’ He paused only for a second, and then went on, apparently in complete sincerity. ‘I believe Ellyn was recommending some kind of omelette?’