“That sounds more like it. And how’d you get involved with him?”
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is with Lucien.”
“That sounds foreboding.”
Nina sighed. “Lucien and I…How to explain it? I care for him, but he’s a tough man to love. He makes it tough. It’s why it never worked out between us. My advice? Whatever deal you’ve got with him, get out of it as soon as you can.”
“Believe me, I’m trying to.”
This drew an arched eyebrow from Nina. “You don’t want to be here, yet he asked you to be his ‘apprentice’ for the Council?”
Aspen shuffled her feet, actually wishing Lucien would reappear and save her from Nina’s prying questions, which were striking a little too close to home.
“Yeah. Weird, I guess.”
“What kind of magic do you use?”
“It’s…a surprise.” Aspen smiled weakly, right as Nina took a step closer to her, closing the space between them to millimeters. Aspen felt the buzz of magic emanating from the woman’s skin, could see the shimmer of it as a faint outline around Nina’s body. She peered closer at Aspen.
“I can’t sense what kind of magic you use, and Mages almost always can.”
Aspen forced her voice to stay calm. “Told you it was a surprise.”
“I’m sure it will be.” Then, softer, almost to herself, “What are you up to, Lucien?”
Just then, Lucien re-emerged from the shop and jogged back over, carrying a bagel and a cup of what looked like milk. “Can’t face the firing squad without some fuel. I know the chef. Makes the best lox bagel sandwiches you’ve ever had.” He took a long sip and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Is that…pure creamer?” Aspen said.
“Let’s go or we’re going to be late,” Lucien said in answer. He glanced at Aspen as they started walking again. “Where’s your cloak? Like mine? I left it with your clothes.”
“I don’t do cloaks.”
Lucien gave his a flourish. “They’re traditional. And useful.”
“Not to me they’re not. And Isak didn’t have one.”
“Isak’s a tool, just like his master.”
Aspen snorted as they cut diagonally into Times Square. “Master? Kinky much?”
“Also traditional terminology. Master. Apprentice. Don’t make it weird.”
“Don’t need to. It already is.”
“Technically I’m your master.”
“Enough,” Nina cut in. “I’d almost believe she was actually your apprentice with the way you’re both going at it.”
Lucien grinned and forged ahead through the crowds.
In minutes, they’d threaded their way through Times Square and past the Museum of Modern Art. More than once, Aspen entertained the idea of making a break for it whenever Lucien and Nina weren’t looking, but each time her promise to Brune came back. And she also didn’t believe Lucien was as ditzy as he acted. There was a cleverness to him; a sharp edge hidden just beneath the goofy façade. She doubted she’d get very far before he caught her again.
The Chrysler building came into view and Lucien steered them across Park Avenue and into Grand Central Terminal.
“This is where the Mages meet?” Aspen asked as they made their way inside the rail station. “For real?”
Nina shrugged. “It’s central, inconspicuous, and classy. Not much more you can ask for. We used to have Council meetings beneath the public library, but we had an incident with some dragon-kin that forced us to move a couple years ago. So here we are.”
Aspen couldn’t argue with that logic. Though part of her had expected…more from the most powerful magic users in New York. A private palace. A floating castle. Heaven knew she’d want a floating castle.
Inside the terminal, the wide-open main atrium and massive-paned windows at either end made the place feel bright. Streams of people flooded in and out of each track’s gate like race horses from the starting line, rushing on to the next place while the time boards above dictated their movements.
They descended a staircase down to the main floor. Lucien approached a female attendant at the info kiosk in the very center, beneath a four-faced analog clock. Despite the numerous people in line to speak to the other attendants, nobody seemed to notice this woman was there.
“Lucien…” the woman purred as he approached.
“Sibyll,” Lucien said. He practically oozed charm as he leaned casually on the counter. “How’s my favorite dhampir?”
Sibyll smiled wider. “You’re late. They’re pissed.”
Lucien, to his credit, kept grinning. “Of course they are. I’d love to stay and chat, my dear, but with an ominous greeting like that you’d better let us in.”
Sibyll flicked a couple switches on her desk. There was a loud ding and the departure board hanging over one of the access tunnels to their left changed to:
Access: Mage Lucien Dunadine
Mage Nina Ashmir
Guest
“Good luck,” Sibyll cooed. “Hope they don’t punish you too badly. I like your face pretty.”
Lucien gave her an amused chuckle and the three of them walked beneath the arches of the departure gate. Aspen glanced back, but no one seemed to notice that an entirely new gate had appeared. She was used to this subtle blending of the Norm and magic world, but this was pretty blatant.
“You’ll need an explanation,” Nina was saying.
“I’ve got it under control,” Lucien said.
“Lucien, you can’t bluff your way out of this one. It’s not fair to her. They expect—”
“I know what they expect.”
“Then I hope you’re ready for it.”
Aspen looked between them, trying not to show her rising panic as the Norm world faded behind them. Her stomach was twisting itself in knots with every passing second. This was suddenly beginning to seem like a very, very bad idea. What had she been thinking, agreeing to do something with the Mages? Who was to say they’d even let her participate in their crazy assessment? Or wouldn’t kill her on the spot?
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re okay,” Nina muttered to her as they took a turn down another passageway. She glared at Lucien’s back.
“Thanks,” Aspen managed, throat dry.
Aspen had explored a lot of Ember’s Landing, but never much of the underground, which, with the prevalent gothic arches and oddly sporadic lighting, seemed to be where they were. Regardless of borough borders, the underground tended to be the home of the undead, rogue trolls, old dwarven families, low-level demons, even some sects of the Coven, though the official Coven in Brooklyn wouldn’t acknowledge them. In all, it was usually a place best avoided.
“I need to know what I’m dealing with, Lucien,” Aspen said after another bout of silence. She wished her voice didn’t sound so pleading. “What are they going to expect me to do?”
“Just be ready for anything,” Lucien said unhelpfully. “At least try to be more respectful to them than you are to me. That’s pretty much it.”
So she was flying blind, with no idea what the council would do if things went south. She glanced at Nina for any more help, but she just gave a helpless shrug.
“Can’t add much more. I’ve only been on the Council a couple years. Never for something like this.”
The knot in Aspen’s stomach tightened.
At last they ducked beneath a low stone archway and straightened up on the other side. Aspen felt the air shift as the earlier enclosed passageway broadened into an immense cavern.
Well, she’d been partly right: she supposed there was sort of a castle down here.
A stone structure rested on the cavern floor beneath them, its spires reaching to the ceiling and seeming to meld with the stalactites above. The main structure was a cacophony of rooms and stone columns carved from the rock, alternating layers of windows, crumbling edifices, and sprawling walls. Perhaps in the past, the fortress-like monstrosity might have held off assaul
t, but now the place in the front where the drawbridge and moat might have been had been scooped out into a smoothed auditorium-style chamber. Seven stone seats, a few of them occupied, had been placed, half circling the open space. A dozen or so people dressed in all manner of clothing—from street dress to robes even hokier than Lucien’s—mingled in front of the seats.
All eyes swiveled to them as Aspen, Lucien, and Nina stepped into the open chamber, and Aspen resisted the urge to immediately go running right back out. She had never been so scrutinized before. This was the part where she was supposed to be ducking and hiding, not striding through them in plain sight.
Aspen saw the broad, dark form of Isak standing expectantly in front of the Mage’s seats. Her pulse quickened. She caught his eye, and he gave her a condescending smirk.
Ignoring the glares from the other attendees, Lucien put on a blazing smile of his own. “Glad you’re all here. Shall we get started?”
No one smiled back.
“Late, Lucien,” one of the men in the Mage’s seat said.
“Again,” a woman added.
“It’s almost as if,” said a deadly soft voice directly beside them, “almost as if you purposefully scorn us.”
The voice cut through her mind, piercing through years’ worth of memories until it struck her heart. Before Aspen could see who’d spoken, a rough hand grabbed her chin and forced her to twist around. She reached for her knife but froze when her eyes fell on who’d grabbed her.
He was bald, the top of his head crisscrossed with vicious, pulpy scars. His face seemed frozen in a permanent sneer, his strong hands buzzing with magic. But it was his eyes that held her. Cruel and familiar. Eyes that had looked at her like this once before.
For a moment, Aspen felt her body shrink down to that of a child. She was seven-years-old again, the smell of smoke and death and fear thick in her nose. She saw the dance of firelight around his figure as he’d raised his hand and casually left her to die.
The man who’d killed her parents.
The man she’d sworn to kill in return.
The Council of Mages
“What’s this, Lucien?” The man continued in that same deadly-soft voice, so unfit for someone so imposing. “Isak told me you’d picked up another stray, but I didn’t think this one would be quite so…pathetic.”
Aspen’s survival instincts returned along with a wave of rage, but before she could finish reaching for her knife, Lucien stepped between them. He casually shoved Aspen away from the man as the air filled with the taste of charged magic.
“Your errand boy stopped by my place yesterday, Xavier,” Lucien said brightly. “Good to see he has all the charm and good looks of his master. Oh, wait.”
Aspen went for her knife again, but Lucien, behind his back, sent a zap of magic coursing through her, strong enough that she was momentarily struck immobile. Still she struggled, trying to move. Isak cocked an eyebrow as she twitched in place. Some of the bystanders were starting to stare and mutter to one another.
“Your, ah…apprentice, seems eager to lose,” Xavier said. “Perhaps you should learn to tame her before you let her loose in public.”
“Excuse us for one moment.” Lucien gave an abrupt nod to those seated in the Mage’s chairs before swirling away. One strong hand gripped Aspen’s forearm and tugged her from Nina’s concerned gaze, down the steps into a slightly more secluded area below where the rocky overhang of the chamber above covered them.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lucien demanded the moment they were alone. The paralyzing magic had almost worn off her. Aspen tried to tug her knife out again but Lucien’s hand caught her wrist. His rings dug into her skin.
“In case you’d forgotten, you want to lose, not have the Mages lock you in a mental asylum!”
“He killed them. He killed them!” Aspen hissed.
“Who killed—would you stop it with the knife?”
Lucien shoved her farther below the rocky outcropping. “Don’t make me stun you again.”
“Like you could!”
“I could knock you out if I wanted to. Now just stop and talk to me.”
The brief surge of madness that had overtaken her began to trickle away as she met his eyes. They weren’t concerned—not for her, she didn’t think—but they were frightened. Now, reason was helping her see why and she felt horrified. The Mages; she had almost attacked the Mages. Right here, right now, she was in the presence of the most powerful magic users on earth and she had nearly tried attacking one. It was laughable. She would have been dead before her knife had left its sheath.
“The fire at the Shopping District,” Aspen managed to say. “He was the one who started it. He was the one who killed my parents.”
Lucien’s face drained of color. “That’s not possible.”
“I know what I saw! It was him!”
“You were, what? Six? Eight? You had to have seen it wrong.”
“I didn’t. I know it was him. And I’m going to make him pay for it.”
“No, you’re not.”
Lucien cut her off with a sharp slice of his hand. “For once, stop running your mouth and think. You’re not an idiot. You’re not going to try to kill a Mage in here, based off what you think you saw as a child ten years ago.”
“Then I’ll kill him after this!”
“The Council would hunt you down in a heartbeat. It’d be easy to find out who you were, since I’d have to help them do it. Bah!” He threw up his hands. “Xavier…he wasn’t even a Mage then!”
“I. Know. What. I. Saw.”
Lucien leveled a gaze at her and let out a deep breath. Aspen tried to let out one of her own, but all her anger seemed stoppered between her chest and throat, as if it had bottled up for ten years, waiting for this moment. The emotions from that day were coming back now, stronger than ever, rage filling her to the very brim. She was no longer a scared, weak child. She was strong. She was a fighter. Perhaps, subconsciously, this had been what she’d been training for ever since that day. To survive what her life had become after, yes. But in the back of her mind, the purpose had never strayed, a continuous chant that had repeated continuously ever since: revenge, revenge, revenge…
But just as quickly as this thought arrived, so did her rationality, crash-landing to spoil the party. Surprisingly, she found herself agreeing with Lucien. She’d almost overplayed her hand. Xavier didn’t appear to recognize her. Of course, he was arrogant enough to assume the brat he’d left to die was nothing but charred ashes now in the rubble of a house. That was her one big advantage. She could wait to strike. Bide her time a little longer. Wait to kill him when he least expected it.
And then…Then the Mages would get her. She saw no way around that.
“Okay…” Lucien let out another breath. “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s think about this.”
“Mage Lucien!” called a sharp voice from above.
“A moment!” Lucien said. He turned to Aspen, his face set. “Look, I’m not saying you’re right about Xavier—”
“Has he killed people before?”
Lucien hesitated. That was answer enough.
“He’s capable of it, isn’t he?”
“Capable or not doesn’t matter!” Lucien let out a long stream of air through his teeth, angrily brushing back his bangs. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No.”
“Then listen to me: Forget about it for now. Let me look into it. If I find out you’re telling the truth then I can bring charges against him.”
“I thought you said there was no proof.”
“I said if I find any I’ll bring charges.”
“And then I’ll watch as the Council lets him off with a slap on the wrist,” Aspen scoffed. “No thanks.”
“Mage Lucien!”
“Then you’ll be signing your own death warrant,” Lucien shot back, just as harshly. “You go after him without the Council’s approval or being under the terms of a Mage’s
Duel—”
Aspen jerked her eyes up to meet his, which were slowly widening with apprehension.
“A Mage’s Duel?” Aspen finished. “Let me guess, where someone challenges a Mage in a duel to the death?”
“It’ll be your death!” Lucien said, frantic now. “And only a Mage can challenge another Mage to a—”
Aspen slowly smiled. Well, that was convenient. “Then I guess it’s a good thing somebody asked me to be his apprentice.”
“Aspen, no, you can’t—you don’t want that, trust me—”
“Mage Lucien!”
Aspen pushed past him and took the stairs up. The small crowd parted as she stepped through them and took her place beside Isak, stoically standing before the seated Council, hands clasped behind his back. The air beside him bristled with magic. He seemed bigger than he had yesterday. He scowled, as though annoyed she hadn’t scampered off like a beaten dog. A large bandage covered his nose and Aspen felt a note of satisfaction. It had been a good hit.
“I hope that still hurts,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “Hurts just looking at it, but honestly, your face was like that before.”
“You’re hilarious,” he whispered back. “Do you write all your own jokes?”
“With you, they practically write themselves.”
Aspen was rewarded with a deeper scowl. The Mage directly in front of her scooted forward to the edge of his chair. He had skin the color of dark chocolate and bright red fez perched atop his head that matched the color of his luxurious robes. Aspen was shocked to see a slight glamour of Fae magic around him. He was part Fae, at least. Had to be.
“And where is your master, girl?” the man asked in a deep baritone.
As an answer, Lucien swept past her and took his seat at the right end of the chairs. He was smiling, looking completely unperturbed about their earlier conversation, like he had a secret he couldn’t wait to share.
That made Aspen nervous. She focused on keeping her eyes forward, her chin high, not letting her emotions show. Though her desire to be a Mage had only originated within the last two minutes, she could already see him screwing that up for her, too.
Mage's Apprentice (Mages of New York Book 1) Page 9
