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




  Contents

  Your Free Book

  The Boroughs

  The Fire of Memory

  Ten years and a lifetime later

  House of Troubles

  A Bad Deal

  The Thief’s Mistake

  An Introduction of Sorts

  The Mage’s Apprentice

  A Rude Awakening

  The Council of Mages

  The Bond

  Thief, Accused

  The Temporary Truce

  An Unwelcome Reunion

  The Dream Dealer

  The Discovery

  City of a Hundred Spires

  The Night Walk

  What She Found

  The Night Court

  The Verdict

  At the Edge of Truth

  The Gathering Darkness

  On the Rooftop

  A Broken Promise

  The Unexpected Mage

  Epilogue

  Connect With Me

  Excerpt of Mage’s Trial

  The First Death

  The Warning

  More Books by Sean

  About the Author

  Dedicated to: The Usual Suspects

  Your Free Book

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  The Seven Magical Boroughs of New York City, and the Mages of Each

  Ember’s Landing, Manhattan—Shifters, Vamps

  Overseen by: Mage Lucien Dunadine

  Jade Palace, Chinatown, Manhattan—Djinn, Low-level demons

  Overseen by: Mage Nina Ashmir

  Brindle’s Spire, Staten Island—Giants, Ogres, Trolls

  Overseen by: Mage Xavier Helsput

  The Courts (Day and Night Court), Central Park—The Fae

  Overseen by: Mage Simshar Kelso

  The Necropolis, Hell’s Kitchen—The Undead, ghouls, wraiths, ghosts

  Overseen by: Mage Don Jones

  New Salem, Brooklyn—The Coven, Succubus, Incubus

  Overseen by: Etienne Lavilei

  Rivendell, The Bronx—Orcs, Elves, Dwarves

  Overseen by: Mage Gurk

  The Fire of Memory

  On the day her parents were murdered, Aspen discovered ice cream.

  Brune, her mom and dad’s best friend, had gone with her to the shop. He’d taken her down the cobblestone streets of Ember’s Landing—one of the magically hidden boroughs of Manhattan—toward where they had just begun selling the frozen treat, imported from the Norms.

  Norms. Aspen hated the word. Non-magic folk. Humans. Weaklings. Like her, Aspen darkly reminded herself, even though her mom and dad had told her not to think of herself that way; because even Norms had a place among the boroughs, they said.

  Even if no one else in the magical community thought so.

  “I heard the ice cream tastes like heaven,” Brune said in that low, slow way of his. “And it’s cold like, the tu—tun…like the tun—”

  “The tundra?” Aspen guessed.

  Brune’s face lit up with a smile that cut through his thick black beard. He beamed down at her, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “Yes, the tundra.”

  Though he was an adult, Aspen didn’t mind Brune coming with her. She loved him as much as she loved her parents, and he loved her just as much in return. He always carried trinkets from his shop deep in his pockets where his fingers were too big to reach, but Aspen’s tiny ones could. Gears and tiny vials and scraps of spell paper. He always swung her around over his head whenever she asked, even when her parents thought it was too dangerous. He didn’t treat her like she was seven, but an actual adult. That’s what Aspen liked most of all.

  So, no, she didn’t mind him coming with her. But she knew why he did. Ember’s Landing, where they lived, was one of the safest magical boroughs in New York. But even ‘safe’ in Ember’s Landing didn’t mean ‘safe’ if your family were the only Norms allowed. Even being a liaison (the word tasted funny on Aspen’s tongue, almost like lasagna) between the magical world and the few Norms who knew about it didn’t protect them completely. Most supernatural beings didn’t like them there, even if they helped keep the magical world hidden and bring in Norm things. They’d had threats to her family. The djinn, of course. A few Fae. Some of the Vamps promised to run them out, or worse. Aspen knew what they could do, even if her parents hadn’t wanted her to. She’d seen those long, sharp fangs, and the glowing red hunger in their eyes the few rare times she’d spied a Vamp close to sun down. Norms didn’t belong in the boroughs, they said. Norms were just a reminder of why the magical community lived in secret in the first place.

  But nobody would bother her today. Nobody messed with Brune. Not the Vamps, not the wraiths or shifters. Aspen bet even the all-powerful Mages would keep their distance.

  Nobody wanted trouble with a giant, not even a half one.

  They turned down another street. The cramped, balcony-studded houses were squeezed on either side of them like a set of mismatched teeth. The stone they were made of wasn’t like the rest of New York, built of metal and glass. This was older stuff, stained black and scuffed smooth by years of use. The magical boroughs were all built a little differently, but they were almost always the oldest part of any city.

  “Magical folk, different folk, were always congregating together, even in the early days,” her mother had said. “Before most anyone else, really. There’s safety in numbers, after all.”

  “Safety from what?” Aspen had asked. She knew that, as much as the different races distrusted each other, they distrusted humans more. “Norms can’t hurt them. They have magic and claws and stuff.”

  “We Norms have numbers,” her father said, tussling her hair. “Only a small number of us know of the supernatural world, but if word were to get out…Not even magic can stand up to so many weapons. Or our fear of the unknown. Those are enough to make even something as strong as a Mage or necromancer afraid.”

  But as much as the magical communities said they disliked Norms, Aspen noted that they sure did their best to copy them. As they crossed a wide, fountain-filled courtyard, she saw stores carrying Norm clothing lines—a few her parents had suggested they bring in—as well as espresso bars and electronic shops. Even taco trucks had been parked alongside the butchers and blacksmiths, both nestled within gothic-style buildings. It was as if the borough couldn’t make up its mind on what it wanted to be. It was a strange dynamic. One Aspen loved.

  What she did not love was being the odd one out.

  She heard laughing to her left. In the lip of the alleyway they’d passed was a small gang of kids a little older than her. Aspen tried to ignore them as she passed. She saw one of the girls whisper something to a boy. She pointed at Aspen and they both snickered. Another boy, one a little older with faint, claw-like tattoos running up the left side of his face, followed Aspen with his eyes as she passed. The girl said something to him too. He didn’t smile.

  Aspen jerked her head away, face flaming.

  “Are you all right?” Brune rumbled.

  “I’m fine.” She reached up to slip her hand in his.

  They finally found the ice cream shop just off the square, between an apothecary and a shop full of knick-knacks. Some sort of off-tune music was coming from inside the knick-knack shop. It made Aspen’s head hurt.

  “Look at the line!” she said despairingly when they stopped in front of the ice cream place. It seemed the entire population of Ember’s Landing had come for the grand opening. She saw Vamps, their hooded eyes and milk-white skin obscured by dark, l
ong-sleeved clothing and sunglasses. Beside them was the magic shimmer of one of the Fae; even a djinn, though they didn’t wander from their own boroughs into another’s very often. This ice cream stuff must have been amazing.

  “We can wait,” Brune said patiently, taking a spot at the back of the line.

  “Why can’t they just go into the city and get it themselves?” Aspen demanded. “Mom and Dad take me all the time!”

  “Some of us can’t blend in as well as you can,” Brune said.

  Aspen gazed up at his towering figure. It nearly blocked out all the sunlight above her, casting her in shade.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Besides, your parents worked hard to get things like this into Ember’s Landing.”

  Aspen kicked at a cigarette butt. “I guess...”

  A figure a few spots ahead turned back to them. Aspen shivered as his ice-blue eyes hit her. Its jaw hung limply from the rest of its skull, distended almost, able to unhinge to accommodate its monstrous appetite. She could see flecks of corrosive saliva in its rotting mouth as it gave her a toothy smile.

  “Would the little girl like my spot?” It rasped.

  The shade covering Aspen shifted as Brune stepped a little in front of her. She huddled behind the flaps of his jacket.

  “Back off, ghoul,” Brune growled.

  “Just a small taste of her life force,” the ghoul wheedled. “That’s all, just a tiny bit. She’s young and ripe…she’s got plenty.”

  “Ghoul…” Brune’s voice rose to a warning pitch. A couple of wolf-shifters nearby glanced over in alarm.

  “It’s okay, Brune.” Aspen gently tugged on his arm as the ghoul quickly swiveled back around. “It’s okay, really. It’s not going to hurt me.”

  But now others had noticed them. Noticed her. She could see their eyes narrow, lips curling into sneers. She could imagine their thoughts: Magic-less. Human. Weak. Prey.

  After an eternity, they reached the front of the line. Aspen ordered two scoops of mint-raspberry in a cone. Brune couldn’t decide so he got the same, the cone looking ridiculously tiny clutched in his sausage-like fingers. Aspen helped him retrieve some lumps of gold from his pocket to pay.

  “Only dollars now,” the bored clerk said, pushing the gold back toward them.

  Brune slowly blinked at him. “What?”

  “Dollars? Cents? Norm currency?” the clerk said, more warily this time, perhaps noting Brune’s agitation and realizing this customer wasn’t just some annoyed imp he could brush off.

  “Why?”

  “Ember’s Landing’s phasing out old payments. Gold, spells, debts, threats, the works. Mage Shimshar’s already done it with the Fae over in the Courts.” He held up his hands. “Not my policy, dude. Just the way things are going.”

  “My parents gave me money, Brune,” Aspen said. She handed him the dollars and helped him clumsily flatten out the crumpled bills and hand them to the clerk. The clerk exchanged them and handed the change back to Brune.

  “Thank you—”

  “We get more back,” Aspen insisted. She grabbed the money from Brune and counted it. “We get more.”

  “Whoops,” the clerk muttered. He hurriedly handed Brune the rest before Brune and Aspen shuffled back out to the street and took a seat on the curb near an alleyway.

  “Thanks,” Brune said. “The tiny numbers…I can’t see them very well…It’s not that I don’t know how to count…they’re tiny…”

  “No problem,” Aspen said. “I’ve got your back.”

  Brune beamed.

  They tried the ice cream. Aspen closed her eyes in delight as the cold treat filled her tongue. Sweet. Buttery, almost. It was heaven. It was perfect.

  “Aw…too little.” Brune was staring glumly at his empty fingers. Apparently one lick had been enough to finish his off. Aspen gave him the rest of hers. After another lick Brune stomped off to wash his hands in the square’s fountain. Aspen stood and brushed her pants off, trying to remember the taste of mint, the coolness of the ice cream, the—

  Someone shoved her.

  She hit the concrete hard, half her face splashing in a rancid puddle. Her palms stung where she’d scraped them.

  “It’s the Norm!” Someone cackled gleefully.

  Aspen picked herself up, wincing at her bleeding knee. They’d come from the alleyway and surrounded her, the boys and girls she’d seen before. She was trapped now, out of sight of the rest of the street. Angry eyes pinned her in place; clenched fists were held at the ready.

  “What are you doing here, Norm?” one of the gangly boys said. He pushed her as she stumbled up, but Aspen caught herself before she fell again. “What are you doing in our part of the city?”

  “I live here,” Aspen said.

  “Live here?” Another girl screeched. “You can’t live here!”

  “She means in the gutter,” another girl said. She kicked water at Aspen who brushed it off, determined not to cower from them.

  “Not in the gutter!” Aspen said. “My parents—”

  “Are Norms,” the gangly boy said. He pushed her again. As she hit the ground, Aspen saw the tattoo-faced boy from earlier. He was standing against the wall of the alleyway, partly in the shadows, arms crossed and watching her. Watching to see what she’d do next.

  “I’m just like you!” Aspen protested, standing and facing them again. “I live here too!”

  “You’re nothing like us,” one of the girls said. She held out her hand. “Can you do this?”

  A small, magic-powered flame flared to life in her hand. For a second, Aspen was mesmerized as it flickered back and forth. Magic. Real magic. She’d never envied any of the magical inhabitants for their natural abilities. Not their shifting or enhanced speed or glamour. She’d never cared. Never in her life. Except for those who could wield magic. She had always wanted to do that.

  “Well? Can you?” the girl demanded, thrusting the flame closer to Aspen so that she was forced to back away.

  “I…no. I can’t.”

  “Or this?” One of the boys shifted so that his face turned into a wolf’s.

  “No, but—”

  “Or this?” Leathery wings sprouted from another boy’s back.

  “No, I can’t do any of that, but—”

  “You’re useless.”

  A shove.

  “A nobody!”

  Another shove.

  “I’m not use—stop pushing me! Stop it—”

  Aspen whirled around, bringing her arm up. She felt her fist connect with the witch-girl’s face, felt the skin of her knuckles split over her cheekbone.

  The witch girl collapsed. The others—Aspen included—stood stunned for a moment, watching the witch girl pick herself up. Her face was blotched purple with rage and a worsening bruise. She summoned another ball of magic, and this time there was nothing mesmerizing about it.

  “You filthy little cockroach! How dare you touch me!”

  Aspen crouched, ready to defend herself. Her pulse thumped in her ears. Every ache and pain on her body was there, but sharp, focused.

  The witch girl pulled back her arm and started to throw. It jerked to a stop.

  “Enough, Eve,” the boy with the tattoo on his face said.

  “But—But she—” the witch girl said.

  The boy squeezed her wrist and she gasped. Her magic sputtered out.

  “I said enough. The giant’s coming back.”

  Sure enough, Aspen felt the rumbling beneath her feet at Brune’s approach. It sounded more frantic than normal. Maybe he’d heard the commotion? Maybe somebody else had seen them?

  The other kids scattered, all except the tattooed boy who lingered a moment longer. Aspen wiped the blood off her chin, feeling his gaze burning on her.

  “What are you looking at?” she spat, glaring at him. He didn’t flinch.

  “You should get out of here. Out of Ember’s Landing. You don’t belong.”

  “You can’t make me leave!”

 
“I’m serious. You’ll end up dead. Or worse.”

  “Whatever.”

  She could still see the reflection of his eyes in the dark as they backed down the alleyway, before vanishing all together. Aspen wiped another smear of blood off her cheek and went back to the street. Brune nearly crashed into her as he came to a lumbering stop. He was panting, his eyes wild. He glanced down at her, his eyes barely skimming over her cuts, then said,

  “Fire! At your parents’ house!”

  He pointed over his shoulder. There, across the rooftops, right where she and her parents lived, thick smoke was rising.

  “Aspen, wait!”

  Even with her tiny legs, Aspen swiftly left Brune behind, sprinting as fast as she could, as fast as she ever had before. Her arms pumped. Her heart threatened to burst in her chest. Her feet practically flew over the concrete and cobblestone.

  Halfway there she took a shortcut through a little hole in the plywood on the side of a condemned building. She flew up the rickety staircase and onto some scaffolding. Here, she was able to tiptoe along the drain spouts and gutters at the edge of the roofs above.

  Aspen knew this route—knew dozens of routes like these—by heart. Hours of exploring in the winding back alleyways and secluded pockets of Ember’s Landing had given her a more intimate look at her home than someone who’d lived there three times as long.

  Aspen had just reached the edge of the next roof when the smoke hit her, forcing her to cover her eyes as it grew thick in the air. She shimmied down the nearest drain sprout, scraping her knee again as she stumbled into the street. The brief pain was quickly masked by the stinging in her eyes. The smoke was thinner down here but already her head was hazy from breathing it in.