Caster

by Elsie Chapman

  “Why?” His voice is low, shattered. “You don’t know what it’s like …”

  “Because.” I take a shaky breath and push back my wet hair. “I wanted Finch to hurt for what he did, and I knew this would hurt him the most. He could never be in the Guild, Oliver.”

  “Okay, but … your magic—”

  “It was the cost. I paid it because I was willing to. And that’s not really the same thing as wanting to, is it?”

  His gaze burns and then he nods. I know his parents are now on his mind, and it’s not what I meant, but I can’t change how he thinks about that. I don’t think it’s for me to change.

  “You know where to find me,” he says, “if you ever need me.” To ask what it’s been like. To be able to hold the world in your hand and then have it all be gone. “I won’t mind.”

  “Thanks. Maybe. I’m—do you know Wu Teas? It’s in the Tea Sector. So that’s where I’ll be. Aza Wu. If you need.”

  He nods and turns away to find his brother. And my heart is still pounding as I go to search for Embry again.

  Only because he’s been looking for me as well does he let himself be found. He might never be able to cast again, but it’s undeniable that he still has some kind of power. Beneath all the damage, some of that magic still remains in his veins, forever a part of him.

  He crosses the warehouse, an envelope in his hand. He hands it over when we meet.

  “Is it still Rudy, or is it Aza now?”

  I take the envelope. It’s thick with marks, both paper and coin. After Piper gets her cut, the rest will pay off our standing debt of honor marks to Saint Willow’s family. I stuff the envelope into my starter bag that will no longer need to hold starters. “It’s Aza.”

  “I’m unsure if I should congratulate you on winning the tournament, given the cost.”

  The back of my neck gets hot. “It’s okay, I really don’t want you to.”

  “You really didn’t need a gathered spell to win.” He sounds almost disappointed in me. As though how I fought in the first three rounds made him think I was capable of more. Something different, something better. And maybe I was. But now I’ll never know.

  “It wasn’t about winning the tournament as much as it was about taking something from Finch.”

  “Because of your sister and what happened last year.”

  I stare at him, startled. “You remember Shire?”

  “Yes. You look a lot like her, so I suspected. And I’m sorry she lost the way she did, just as I’m sorry Finch won the way he did. We discouraged him from using a gathered spell during this tournament, after what happened last year. If that was the only way he could win, there would be no place for him in the Guild.”

  So Embry knew about Finch using a gathered spell.

  I want to be mad about his being okay with this, about how the tournament runs on cruelty as much as it does on magic—and maybe cruelty and magic are two sides of the same coin anyway, just like magic and pain are. He would just say the same thing—how full magic has always had its cost.

  “I would have voted against him becoming a member, Aza,” Embry continues, “if and when a spot opened up. Most of the Guild would have.”

  I don’t know what to say, or what he might want to hear from me. But I’m too tired to be mad, and I can’t care anymore. I no longer have anything to do with the Guild or with the tournament or anything like that, now that I have no more magic. But Embry’s power—for that I can’t leave just yet.

  So I only nod. And given what I need to ask, maybe it’s for the best that Embry is now hoping for my understanding.

  “I need your help.” I speak quietly enough so none of the casters still close by will hear me. “I know you’re a Scout. I saw you today, helping hang up a display cage.”

  For a second he’s shocked enough that he can’t speak. Then he simply says, “Oh?”

  “I’m not—I don’t want to ask why you’re one—”

  I take a half step back as his teal eyes go sharp enough to cut. I no longer have reason to be scared of any Scout, but a lifetime of built-in fear is hard to get over so fast.

  “You mean why would a caster who helps runs a tournament based on full magic also be hunting down its casters and locking up his own kind?”

  The back of my neck gets hot again. “Yes.”

  “For every Ivor I keep locked away and every caster I chase down, there are many more I’m able to overlook. We pay in many different ways for our magic, Aza.”

  I nod. He’s right. We’ve always been paying. And I might not be a caster anymore, but that’s just another way I paid for magic.

  “What do you need my help for?” he asks.

  “It’s about another Scout, actually. He’s new.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Cormac. He’s been watching me.”

  “You’ve no more magic, Aza.” Embry’s tone is almost gentle. “He’ll be assigned elsewhere soon enough.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not that—not anymore anyway. But I had to get him in trouble with one of the city’s gangs in order to escape.”

  “And?”

  “Do you think you can go rescue him?”

  * * *

  I walk home, shoulder singing, all my bones and muscles throbbing and bruised. There’s mud in my hair that’s already smeared my smog mask, and the noise of the crowd lingers in my ears just as the scent of fifteen-hundred-year-old blue lichen won’t fully leave my nose. The streets stay sleeping and dark as I head west, from the Electronics Sector through to Government and then on to Tea. It’s not raining but the air still feels damp because it’s Lotusland.

  My mind is on none of these. It’s too busy wrapped up around itself, around the memory of magic, when magic had been who I was and how I’m no longer that. So where does that leave me? Who can I be now, if not a caster?

  When I get to the block of the teahouse, I don’t bother turning the corner to get to the back alley. Now that Jihen no longer has any hold over me and Cormac is stuck with Earl Kingston until Embry finds him tomorrow, there’s no reason to have to worry about being seen.

  But I didn’t know someone else was still looking.

  Waiting at the front entrance of the teahouse are Saint Willow and Nima.

  Fear prickles along my entire body.

  Nima must have told Saint Willow about my magic. I knew she would, but not when. And now the gang leader is here to make me pay.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice is thin in the night. It’s starting to rain again, a fine drizzle that sits on my hair.

  Saint Willow smiles her elegant smile. “I just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten about our deal, Aza. I lead you to a gatherer and you cast magic for me.”

  I glance at Nima, confused. But her eyes don’t meet mine, and she’s pale around her mask.

  “The price of the spell,” I say to Saint Willow, “was my magic. I can’t cast for you even if I wanted to.”

  She opens her hand.

  In her palm is a blue bead.

  More fear comes, full lashes of it.

  “I don’t need another spell,” I say. “Spells are useless to me without magic.”

  “Nima, explain, please,” Saint Willow says.

  “This starter is for full magic,” Nima says. “You’ll have magic again.”

  My stomach lurches. “That’s impossible. You can’t get your magic back once it’s been taken. It … scatters. Like—”

  Ether. Essence.

  “It’s true, it’s likely not your magic,” Nima says. “But it’s still full magic, collected and re-formed. It’ll be nearly the same thing.”

  “Consider yourself lucky, Aza.” Saint Willow’s smile gains a bitter edge. “Full magic can only be given to those who once held it.”

  I stare at them both, at the bead in Saint Willow’s palm that lets her pretend. She longs so badly for full magic of her own, but having access to someone else’s must do.

  “I can’t.”
I feel sick. To have someone else in your veins, in your mind—

  Except I’d be a caster again. Under someone else’s control, and with a stranger’s magic, but …

  “You can because we have a deal,” Saint Willow says. “Don’t make your parents pay for a cost that you agreed to.”

  We pay in many different ways for our magic, Aza.

  I nod, numb inside now as cold rain falls.

  The price, always to be paid.

  “Okay,” I say.

  All my thanks to these amazing and wonderful people:

  My agent, Victoria Marini, who is a constant inspiration and forever encouraging. I’m so very fortunate to have you in my corner.

  My editor, Matt Ringler, for trusting me with this story about a girl and underground magic. Your enthusiasm and sharp eye have been everything. Plus, you’re pretty cool.

  The fantastic team at Scholastic who helped make Caster into a real book—Shelly Romero, Maeve Norton, David Levithan, Josh Berlowitz, Rachel Feld, Shannon Pender, Tracy van Straaten, Amy Goppert, Alexis Lassiter, Yesenia Corporan, Celia Lee, the Scholastic Emerging Leaders, the IreadYA team, and the book clubs and book fairs.

  For always being just an email or text away, great writer friends Ellen Oh, Gail Villanueva, Jess Huang, and Sangu Mandanna.

  And, of course, family. Especially Jesse, Matthew, Gillian, Wendy, Mom, and Dad. Lots of love to you all of you.

  Elsie Chapman grew up in Prince George, Canada, and has a degree in English literature from the University of British Columbia. She is the author of the YA novels Dualed, Divided, Along the Indigo, and Caster as well as the middle-grade novel All the Ways Home, and the co-editor of A Thousand Beginnings and Endings and Hungry Hearts. She currently lives in Tokyo, Japan, with her family. You can visit her online at elsiechapman.com.

  Copyright © 2019 by Elsie Chapman

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Chapman, Elsie, author.

  Title: Caster / Elsie Chapman.

  Description: First edition. | New York: Scholastic Press, 2019. | Summary: Aza Wu knows that casting magic can kill—it killed her sister—but she needs money desperately to pay off Saint Willow, who controls her sector of Lotusland, and save the family teahouse, so she secretly enters an underground casting tournament—and finds herself competing against other castors with “full magic,” and where even victory could cause her to lose her freedom, her magic, and her life.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018060381 (print) | LCCN 2019000903 (ebook) | ISBN 9781338332636 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781338332629 (hardcover)

  Subjects: LCSH: Magic—Juvenile fiction. | Sisters—Juvenile fiction. | Contests—Juvenile fiction. | Competition (Psychology)—Juvenile fiction. | Young adult fiction. | CYAC: Magic—Fiction. | Sisters—Fiction. | Contests—Fiction. | Competition (Psychology)—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.C36665 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.C36665 Cas 2019 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018060381

  First edition, September 2019

  Jacket design by Maeve Norton

  Jacket photography © 2019 by Lissette Emma and Nika De Carlo

  Author photo by Michael Meskin

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-33263-6

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.