Even if she really, really wanted to.
“Please go over what you told me one more time,” Aspen gritted out. “And quickly. I haven’t got all day.”
“But yer supposed to listen to us,” Grubly said. “Ain’t that what you Mages do? You work for us now, girlie.”
“That’s Mage Aspen to you,” Aspen said. “Don’t make me remind you again.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Grubly and the other orcs chuckled again. Grubly pulled up the sleeves of his hole-filled, filthy rags he called a shirt. His fat, gray pockmarked face looked like he’d had run into an angry beehive, his mouth filled with unfiled, rancid teeth. He was big. Much bigger than her.
No. Aspen clenched her fists, swallowing a sudden surge of anger. She couldn’t just stab them. She had to at least try acting like a Mage.
“Sorry, Mage Aspen,” Grubly mocked. “But ya supposed to hear us out. Gurk never did. These land thieves—”
“We’re no thieves!” the dwarf beside Aspen protested. Him and his group took a threatening step forward. They were a full head shorter than the orcs but thick with muscle and gnarled, strong hands. Even the women. “This has been our hole for years!”
“A hole you stole, ya mean!” Grubly said. He turned to Aspen. “Listen, girlie…”
Aspen pulled aside the fold of her tattered leather jacket just enough so that Grubly could see the grapple, powders, and knife she had tucked away there. The little bit of magic her Null body had stored at the moment bristled. She couldn’t risk letting that out. As a Null, she could absorb and negate magic attacks, even use some of that same magic against her opponents. But she couldn’t control it well. Not yet.
“That’s Mage—”
“—Aspen, right, yah, sorry,” Grubly said, leering. “But these ground humpers’ve been squatting on our land for here bouts ten years now. Mage Gurk, rest his weary bones, would have seen it our way, you can be sure a that.”
The dwarf beside Aspen was turning purple with rage, too angry to even sputter out a response. Aspen sighed and looked again at the hole in question, neatly bored into the side of a hill on the east side of the Cloisters in the Bronx. She’d seen dwarven housing before. It was often smooth-walled. Tidy. She might even call it quaint. This particular hole was all those things. It also looked like it’d been that way for a long, long time.
But Aspen already knew that.
She also already knew the orc’s claim was complete dragon piss, as was her time wasted coming out here. But the orcs knew she would anyway. They knew, as the newest member of the Council of Mages, she was required to listen to every petty grievance thrown her way. That meant most of the supernatural beings in Rivendell, home of the orcs, elves, and dwarves, were using this chance to rekindle old turf disputes. It was odd, how much all the supernatural beings had hated her before because she was a Norm and a Null. But the second she became a Mage and poof! Suddenly she was the most popular person around.
“Mage Aspen.” The dwarf nearest her looked pleading. His hazel eyes were practically brimming with tears. “I know you’re new here, but I promise this hole is ours. I swear by my father’s hammer it is.”
Aspen took a deep breath, preparing herself. “I believe you.”
The slimy grin slid off Grubly’s face. “’Scuse me?”
Aspen faced him, mentally preparing herself for a confrontation. “We all know you have about as much claim to their home as I do. That means absolutely none, in case you were wondering. I’ve heard your complaint and I’ve made my decision. Now get out of here.”
The orcs behind Grubly began to spread out, closing her in on either side. A few reached toward their waists for their weapons.
“You listen here, girlie,” Grubly growled. “We’re taking that spot. We were tryin’ to do this the easy way, but if you’re gonna try to stop us then we’ll pick yer bones clean and take it anyway.”
Aspen dropped a foot back. Her ratty sneakers dug into the dirt as she crouched, ready to defend herself. She tried channeling her magic so that it bristled off her body, filling the air around her.
“You’re going to attack a Mage?”
Please say yes, please say yes. Anything to let off a little steam.
Grubly took a threatening step forward. “We’re gonna—”
He stopped mid-stride, mouth agape. He took a step back. Then he spat at her feet and backed away. “Come on, boys! Another day…Another day…”
Aspen blinked, feeling a small sense of relief. That had gone better than expected. Maybe she was finally getting the cred she deserved—
“Hello, Aspen!”
Aspen turned. Brune, her half-giant guardian, smiled down at her, his towering form blocking out the nearby lamplight. Aspen’s enthusiasm plummeted. So much for building a reputation…
“Hey, Brune. How…long were you standing there?”
“Oh, a minute or so. Those mean orcs didn’t seem to like me very much.”
Aspen looked over her shoulder where the orcs had vanished into the rest of the Cloisters. “No…I guess they didn’t.”
The lead dwarf approached her, his head slightly bowed. “Thank you, Mage Aspen. I’m sure they’ll be back,” he shot a nasty look toward the orcs. “But knowing you’re on our side gives us hope.”
“Really, it’s nothing,” Aspen said, embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. “Just trying to do my job.”
Right. More like trying not to completely screw up and ignite a blood feud between the races. But whatever.
“Aspen?” Brune rumbled, and the dwarves shot him a wary look. “Are we done? Can we go now?”
One by one the dwarves gave Aspen slight bows and retreated back into their hole, descending toward the deep underground where tunnels connected a sprawling network of dwarven cities. Aspen glanced once more at where the orcs had gone. She swore she could feel their hateful glares on her, just waiting for her to slip up. She might have been a Mage now, but nowadays, being a Mage didn’t mean much anymore.
“Yeah, we’re done.”
***
The commute to Rivendell from Ember’s Landing was one of the worst things about her job.
Before, when she’d only been a thief with nothing to worry about except being evicted, or having to live on the streets, or being hated as a Norm and almost driven out (Actually, when she thought about it, that had kind of sucked. Majorly.) she’d barely left Ember’s Landing. Most of the Supes never left their boroughs unless they had to. There was a reason the Supe world and the Norms’ were separate. It was to protect the supernatural beings from the threat of extinction. Aspen had been one of the few who actually ventured out on occasion. Now she had to do it almost every day.
She could absorb tons of magic, but with the little she could actually control she couldn’t Farcast herself to where she needed to be. Walking took forever and was dangerous unless she stayed in the Norm world and didn’t shortcut through the northern side of Ember’s Landing. That meant taking the MTA at least two stops until she arrived at whatever problem was on the menu for the day. She’d tried to find some kind of spell that would make it easier, but so far was out of luck; if she absorbed too much magic without letting it out, then things could get volatile. Fast. But any spell she tried even slightly over the most basic gave her a serious headache.
Like this one, Aspen thought, furiously rubbing her temple.
“I cleaned up the shop again,” Brune said brightly as they walked. Him being here meant she was walking all the way back home. There was no way Brune could fit his massive frame on one of the buses. Assuming they’d let him on at all.
“Sounds like you’re getting more customers,” Aspen said. Her eyes continued scanning their surroundings for any threats. Not that she expected the Kings to pop out and say hi right then. But there were plenty of other supernatural beings who were less than thrilled she was the new Mage.
Not just you, a voice in her head said. There’s someone else who should be Mage right alongside you.
Aspen shook her head to clear the thought away, but that didn’t stop the images rushing through her mind; those of a dark-eyed boy whose horrified face haunted her dreams. The boy she’d cared for more deeply than almost anyone else in her life.
The boy she’d broken a promise to, and the boy who’d left her.
“Aspen?”
Brune was looking down at her, concern etched on his face. “You’re awfully quiet today. Are you tired? Is being Mage making you tired?”
Aspen laughed. “I guess so. I was just thinking, Brune, don’t worry.”
Brune nodded sagely. “Yes, thinking can make you tired, too.”
They cut through a neighborhood park, Aspen pushing through the fence’s gate. Brune merely stepped over it. “You’re not thinking about that bad man again, are you?” he said.
Aspen glanced at him. “The bad man?”
“The other Mage. Luc—Lu—Luc” Brune thunked the side of his head in frustration. “The one who made you his apprentice. The one who hurt you.”
Him. Aspen only thought about him, too, every day. About how Lucien Dunadine had blackmailed her into being his apprentice for the Council’s contest. How he was the most frustrating, arrogant person she’d ever met. How she’d come to care for him like a mentor, and, more shockingly, he’d come to care for her.
But mostly she thought about how he’d admitted murdering her parents and then expected her to forgive him for it.
“I’m not thinking about that bad man,” Aspen said. She pointed. “Want to stop for a treat?”
They slipped inside the supermarket and picked up their usual ice cream—raspberry-mint—and ate it sitting on the curb. Aspen absentmindedly licked her spoon while Brune finished off the carton in a couple large bites.
Aspen continued staring at the empty carton after Brune had put it down. Lucien had paid for this ice cream. He’d paid for their rent too. That’d been part of the agreement she’d made him take, that he would take care of Brune if Aspen had died during the assessment. He’d assured her she would be in no danger, but she’d made him promise all the same. Now he was following through on his promise, giving them enough money each week to help Brune keep the shop and Aspen to put food on the table.
Aspen hated him for it.
She was often overtaken by this internal battle. She wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t going to turn down free money, especially when she didn’t have time now to steal or work for it herself. Brune never knew where it came from and he was too happy to ask.
But to take it from him…
Ten minutes later they arrived at Brune’s Magical Surplus, squashed between two other houses just like it on either side. It was three stories of worn red brick and rusted bars over the cracked, yellowing windows, but it was theirs.
“Home sweet home!” Brune chortled as he unlocked the door. “Some more food arrived today. I don’t know where it is coming from, but somebody’s being very nice to us!”
“That’s great, Brune,” Aspen said.
“I can cook some pasta and some chicken and cut up some of the green vegetable. The, uh, the zuch-zuchi…”
“Zucchini?”
“Yes, zuchininini,” Brune said proudly.
He lumbered off back into the kitchen. Aspen resisted slumping exhaustedly into the nearest chair and set about restocking any of her necessary supplies from the bins in the center of the shop. That had been one plus of her new position. As a thief, she was part of the lowest scum on the totem pole, and everyone knew it. It meant too many were willing to give her trouble.
But not as a Mage. Despite the lack of respect most of the supernatural creatures didn’t bother with her as much. Probably ‘cause most of them didn’t know she couldn’t use magic properly. Her being a Null was common knowledge, but after Lucien had nearly killed Segur, dark princess of the Unseelie Fae, for kidnapping Aspen, word had gotten around she wasn’t somebody to mess with.
Another thanks she owed to Lucien, she thought, throwing one of the vials angrily back in its box. Troll piss.
She finished stocking her powder, made sure her grapple was recoiled, and readjusted her jacket so that everything was within easy reach. The rest of her stuff went into her jean pockets, tucked on the side of her scuffed shoes, or slipped beneath the collar of her shirt below the nape of her neck, where her silver hair—her only physical feature she was somewhat proud about—would keep it concealed.
The only thing left was her Dakri knife, which needed a little blood to keep the blade from rusting. She pulled out her vial and did that, then went over to the table in the corner.
Ever since becoming a Mage a little over three weeks ago, she’d begun painstakingly searching any text she could find for clues on locating the Kings. She knew that, out of the three powerful Kings serving Maladias, one of them had to be trying to get into New York, no matter how much Simshar and the other Mages scoffed. They could deny it all they wanted, but as one of the, if not the most powerful concentration of magic and supernatural beings in the world, Maladias would have to be the dumbest super evil overlord in existence to not send one of them to screw up their city before he arrived.
Aspen leaned across the table to the map she’d tacked to the wall and put a thick X over the cloisters in the Bronx, making the total X’s an even ten. At least her trip today hadn’t been a total waste. The cloisters were one area she’d been worried the Kings would use to come into the city, but from what little magic she’d sensed while there, it wouldn’t be nearly enough for them to use it. It was funny, in a way. Xavier had been trying to bring Maladias in, but in doing so had taken so much magic from so many other places that it’d actually helped narrow down her search.
At least that was one good thing he’d done.
Aspen peeled apart the yellowing pages of the latest book she was working through and peered at the squiggles of runic symbols and spells. Her mind flashed back to the last time she’d done something like this, in a cramped, stuffy demon’s shop with Isak standing beside her, the heat of his body close, his dark, intense eyes burning with concentration as they peered at the pages…
Aspen shook her head. Hard. Enough. Enough! She couldn’t torture herself anymore. She was supposed to be looking for him, but even if she found him, how could she face him again? He would never want to see her again, not after what she did to him. Not after she’d killed his master, Xavier, the one man Isak had cared about most in the world…
Hmm…that sounds awfully familiar, an annoying voice in her head chuckled.
Aspen redoubled her grip on the book. But as much as Isak probably still hated her, the Council needed him. He was supposed to take Xavier’s spot. And with the Kings out there they needed everyone they could get to help protect New York.
Problem was, she had no clue where to start looking. He’d just…left, and she hadn’t yet been brave enough to travel to the Brindle’s Spire, the Staten Island borough where Isak had lived, to see if she could find anything there.
Coward. She was a total coward. The old Aspen, the one who wasn’t afraid to get her hands a little dirty, who wasn’t worried about what others thought or about something as trivial as caring for someone else, wouldn’t have bothered.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
There came a tremendous crash from the kitchen, followed by Brune’s stumbling footsteps.
“Go away! Go away you annoying fly!”
Aspen immediately pulled her knife and rushed to the kitchen door; just in time to avoid nearly getting crushed as Brune lumbered out, waving at a small flying creature buzzing around his head.
“I said go away!”
Brune gave a massive sweep of his hand. The air current it created swept the buzzing creature into the shop’s front window where it hit with a slap! There it lay against the glass, stunned.
“Hold on—Brune, stop.” Aspen held up a hand as Brune stomped forward, meaty fists clenched and ready to finish it off. Aspen peered closer at the window. “I think�
�that’s a sprite.”
“I am! I am a sprite, you great oaf!” the small creature squeaked. It peeled itself off the window and erratically fluttered before Aspen. Up close, she could see the baby blue tint of its skin. Its large, watery eyes and glass-clear wings gave it an almost adorable look. The needle-sharp teeth, however, did not.
“You’re one of Nina’s,” Aspen said in realization. “What are you doing here?”
“Delivering a message,” the sprite shrilled. It eyed Brune warily. “At least I’m trying to! If someone will let me!”
“You scared me,” Brune said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.” He raised a hand to pat the sprite on the back, but it buzzed out of reach.
The sprite continued glaring at him until Aspen snapped her fingers in front of it. “Nina? Message?”
“Oh yeah, right.” The sprite cleared its throat and straightened up regally in mid-air. “By the request of Mage Nina Ashmir, Mage of great renown, contractual master to me, a lowly sprite, summoner of powerful entities across the planes—”
“Skip the formalities,” Aspen growled. “Message. Please.”
“Mage Don Jones is dead,” the sprite said.
Aspen’s stomach dropped, as if a trap door had been opened beneath and all feeling had fallen through.
“They’re here…” she muttered.
“Mage Nina requests your assistance,” the sprite went it. It rattled off an address. “She says that it’s of utmost importance and implores you to hurry—”
“I’m already there,” Aspen said. “Brune, I’ll be back later!”
“But—but Aspen! What about dinner?” Brune sputtered.
The sprite buzzed ahead of her, and in a second Aspen was sprinting out the door.
Continue the adventure by grabbing the rest of Mage’s Trial on Amazon!
More Books by Sean
The Heir of Dragons Series:
Dragon’s Awakening
Dragon’s Curse
Mage's Apprentice (Mages of New York Book 1) Page 32
