A Mage's Fall: Dark Manhattan (Malachi English Book 2)

by Andy Hyland

  “Sounds great. Look, Arabella, I’ll be straight with you about this. Living in Becky’s place would be too weird for me. Location’s great and all, but still. I’ve got my own place, and Julie’s apartment’s not bad, you know. Look after the place for me. Get it cleared up. Give me what you can, and we’ll call it quits for now.”

  “The security?”

  “Keep it on. It’ll get used to you, eventually. I get the feeling it’s lonely.”

  “Fair enough. I accept.” She stuck out her hand, and we shook. She smiled. For a second I saw the young woman she could have been if she hadn’t been screwed out of her life. Still, it is what it is, and there’s no going back.

  “What are you up to today?” she asked as I headed for the door after giving her the keys.

  “More bloody lawyers. They’re still going over Julie’s Dad’s will. I’m dating one of the richest women in Manhattan.”

  “I’d hate her if she wasn’t so cool. Tell her I said hi.”

  “Will do.” One stop to make first, though.

  *

  Liberty was with Mercy when I arrived. He looked happy. She looked stressed. “How’s it going?” I asked.

  “One trying thing after another,” she said, warning me with her eyes to keep my mouth shut about Charlie. She needn’t have bothered – I could imagine all kinds of trouble flying our way if the Union ever found out. And if the Host stumbled across the situation…well that didn’t even bear thinking about.

  “I hear you’ve been building bridges,” said Liberty, taking my hand in a firm grip and looking happier than I’d ever seen him. “I had Maximus Lamarchand chase me up this morning to tell me how impressed he is with you.”

  “Good to know. I like him. Anyway, things to do, and you said you needed to see me.”

  Liberty turned to Mercy, who looked less than impressed that she’d been handed this particular job. “The Union feels that after the situation with David and the pointless and horrible deaths there, that there is still real benefit in having a list of the Aware.”

  “It would have helped,” said Liberty, chipping in.

  I shook my head. “The way I see it, a list like that gets into the wrong hands, it’s a death sentence for all of us.”

  “It wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands,” Liberty assured me. “It would be kept under lock and key by the Union, and…”

  He saw the look on my face and knew it was time to stop trying. “You’ll appreciate that the Union has yet to show me that it can be trusted,” I said. “Until then, if you want to deal with the Aware, you go through me. If you want to get hold of anyone, or know where they are, you go through me.”

  Liberty thought about it. “It’s not ideal.”

  “It’s all that’s on offer.”

  “Very well. I’ll take it to the council. With a bit of luck, I can make them see sense. Damn it, I hate committees.” A nod to both of us, and he headed out.

  I turned back to Mercy and saw her smiling at me. “What?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I won’t keep you. Isn’t today the day that everything’s finally signed over to Julie?”

  “It is. I’d best be going. Due at the lawyers’ offices in an hour. From one bloodsucking monster to another.”

  “How long have you been saving that one up for?”

  “Years. Never got the chance to use it on Simeon. How’s everything down here? Really?”

  Her smile faltered. “Not well. Not well at all, Malachi. Perhaps we could discuss it in more detail. Soon, I’d hope.”

  “My time is your time.”

  “And it’s also yours. Go. Enjoy it.”

  So, for a while at least, I did.

  Epilogue

  Eliajel, in a dapper human guise that, honed to perfection, fooled everyone he encountered, walked up the apartment. He hadn’t been Earth-side of the veil for years now. Everything he needed, everything he’d sought so successfully to acquire, was found in the Fades. All bar one item. And, of course, the eventual goal. For that, he’d have to be over here far more frequently, and for longer spells. That irked him. The smell of the place grated on his nostrils and the very air irritated his skin.

  The door was barely adequate to keep out a simple thug, let alone a practiced thief such as him. Runes ran along the topmost edge. A harmless alarm. Nothing like the systems he had in place in his own cave beneath the hellplains. He reached up and brushed his thumb against it. The rune stayed in place but would be inactive for an hour or so. After that it would function normally, with no indication that anyone unwanted had ever entered.

  Inside were more runes, scattered along the walls and across the ceilings. More structured, more purpose in these. He smiled, impressed by the combination. So much more functional that the standard witchfire. But these too were dismissed easily, a wave of the hand leaving them sensing nothing as he passed.

  The main living area was bland and soft, as you’d expect from any human habitation. A viewing device sat in the corner, and a smooth table was up against the wall. Seating took up most of the floor space. He sighed and looked around. Searching was such a bore, but people seldom left notes indicating where their treasure was stored.

  “You needn’t look far. He left it there, on the table. Simply dumped everything out of his pockets before leaving.” A woman rose from the sofa to the left where she’d been reclining. She was, predictably enough for her, wearing tight leather clothing, but at least her swords were lying on the floor, rather than strapped, ready for use, to her back.

  “Tabbris. My sister. What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I doubt that. And don’t call me your sister.”

  Eliajel shrugged. “As you wish. It’s been so long. I think I may have missed you. We always got on so well.”

  She sighed. “Your flattery and charm aren’t any use here. In fact, you do know that nobody at all is taken in by them, don’t you? You’re a repulsive little grub. You have what people want, so they deal with you. That’s all.”

  “I’m hurt. Truly. But back to the business in hand, I take it you’re here to stop me?”

  She looked at him for a moment, then turned away. “No. I’m not.”

  “Really? Then can I assume that you’d like to…?”

  “Shut your foul mouth. I want nothing to do with you.”

  “I could broker a deal. You would be welcomed. Rewarded. Of course, I’d expect a degree of commission, but not much. It would be reasonable. Certainly you’d have someone at your side who would act in your interests.”

  “Give it up. I’m not turning.”

  “But you’re not stopping me? So you’re…what, then?”

  A pause. “I’m interested. Your motives are, as always, utterly corrupt. But as for the end result. Let’s say I’m not entirely against it. In fact, I do often wonder…but that’s as nothing. Do what you came to do.”

  “As you wish.” He walked over to the table and rummaged through the rubble of human living that was scattered across it. Paper of all kinds, a few artifacts of questionable origin. And there. Could it be, after so long? He reached forward tentatively and lifted the ornate bronze key. Heavier than it looked. So much more useful as well. The only one of its kind.

  “You know, of everything I needed, this was the most elusive item,” he said. “For years I thought it was untouchable within the Great Library. Then the Union became corrupt and I had a whole gaggle of them wanting to help me, hands out for money and baubles and other trinkets. But when I sent them to get it, it was gone. Had been for years, apparently, and nobody knew. Do you know where it went?”

  “An ex-employee had it. Ellen Lamarchand.”

  “I may pay her a visit. She sounds intriguing.”

  “She was, but she’s dead now, so don’t bother.”

  “Ah, a shame. Still, I wonder where she kept it? Such a strong psychic resonance, and I felt nothing of it until the last week. And then it’s left here unguarded, unprotected. Not that I’m complaining, although
I had a whole host of treasures ready to offer to anyone who could help me obtain it. Would you like anything?”

  “I want nothing from you. I will not deal with your kind.”

  Eliajel turned from the table and walked up to her. They both stood looking out of the window. “May I ask why you’re here? I appreciate the help, but I would have found it.”

  “I want you to know that I know. That I’m aware of what you’re up to. That I’m paying attention.”

  “Duly noted. And will you be reporting any of this? No, I didn’t think so. My dear, dear sister, you can protest and strut all you want, but you are far closer to us than you will admit, perhaps even to yourself. Do you sometimes catch your reflection, glance at your own eyes, and are surprised by what you see there? It’s how it starts, you know. It’s how it started for all of us.”

  “You don’t need to be here anymore.”

  “Quite right. It has, as always, been a pleasure. I’ll activate the runes again on the way out. Travel well. My regards to father.”

  She didn’t reply, so he left, ambling out contentedly and humming the old tunes as he did. Tabbris herself did not look back at him, but only stared out of the window, south towards the rest of Manhattan, for a long time.

  So What Happens Next?

  Once again, thank you for giving up part of your life on Earth to read this story. We only get so many hours, so many trips round the Sun, and you gave some of that time to this book. I am truly humbled, and as grateful as ever.

  Book 3 in the series, A Mage’s Stand: Empire State, is due for publication at the latter end of 2016, and may well be around by the time you’ve got to this point. If so, please feel free to check it out. In the meantime, keep up to date with news, events and freebies at www.andyhyland.net.

  Outside of the novels, other important events in the world of the story are made available as free short stories, in a wide variety of electronic files to suite whatever reading device you’re currently using. All you need to do is to join the Aware, a Malachi English mailing list. If you haven’t already done so, then head over there right now and grab some good stuff: www.andyhyland.net/aware

  As well as Devil’s Choice, which outlines some key events between book 1 and 2, many more treats are planned. Wondering what Malachi told Julie in that talk that they’d been planning to have? Wondering what Melanie got up to on her journey south? All this and more is to be revealed. It’s all free you know. Do it. Now.

  As always, I’d be really grateful if you’d leave a fair and honest review of this book on Amazon. The more word gets out, the more readers get involved, and the more I can write, so everyone wins. Thanks. Much appreciated.

  Once again, thank you dear reader. If you have any comments, including, but not limited to, what you really liked or hated, make sure you let me know. I’m available at andy@andyhyland.net. I look forward to hearing from you.

  Author’s Notes

  Once again, I’m indebted to a wide range of people, without whose help this book would never have seen the light of day.

  There are many people who’ve inspired me or helped me over the years – far too many than can be mentioned here. But I remember. For now I’ll stick to thanking:

  Cathy, who has once again put up with me disappearing for long periods and failing to tidy up the attic, or indeed any other room in the house.

  Abigail, for putting my editing needs before her own education and wellbeing. The inheritance % will be adjusted accordingly.

  Chrissy and Alisha at Damonza for their patience and help with design and formatting. Without them, the book would have been a pain to read, and the cover would have been so crap that you’d probably not have bothered in the first place anyway.

  And one final time, as has already been said, thanks to you, dear reader. If not for you, then quite frankly why would I bother? As said on the previous page, but just in case you missed it, if you’ve got any feedback, good or bad, then drop me an email at andy@andyhyland.net.

  Stay safe. Read much. Live well.

  First published, worldwide, by Pandaemonium Press 2016

  Copyright © Andy Hyland 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the publisher, using the subject title: “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” at andy@andyhyland.net.

  Publisher”s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author”s fevered imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover art by Damonza.