Exodus of Magic (The Mysterium Chronicles Book 1)

by Simone Pond

  Before I had a chance to fire off my device, another figure shot out of the darkness and rammed into the mage, knocking him to the ground. Electric bolts danced around in the dirt like live wires, locking the mage inside a temporary containment shell like a glowing blue birdcage made of crystal.

  “It’s okay, Jordy.” My partner’s voice hit my ears like a wrecking ball.

  It took a second before I could utter the words, “What are you doing here?”

  “Magnus had me trail you,” he said, walking toward me.

  If there was something else to punch besides the tree to my left, I would’ve hit that instead of the unforgiving bark. But I couldn’t contain my fury. Nils wasn’t supposed to be here with me. This was between me and Magnus. Blood oozed from the gash across my knuckles, and I’m pretty sure some bone was showing, but I was so angry I couldn’t feel the pain.

  “It’s okay,” Nils said.

  “What’s okay? That Magnus has you by the balls, too? Or that my hand is only partially broken?”

  Nils laughed with cocksureness. “He doesn’t have me by the balls. He contacted me and explained how you were doing covert operations for him. Told me I could either step aside or join the cause. I wanted to help you. We can work together to lock up these terrorists mages.”

  If he only knew the truth, he wouldn’t have had that annoying grin on his face. He would’ve been disgusted over what we were doing. I was being forced into this nonsense to protect my mother and keep my magic concealed, but I couldn’t let my partner get involved with criminal acts.

  “I think you should go back. You don’t know what you’re getting into,” I said.

  Nils took my hand and wrapped it with some gauze. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Jordy. Now let’s go catch us a terrorist mage.”

  I shut my mouth and headed toward the temple. There was no sense in arguing with Nils while the clock was ticking.

  The temple was a large open circle surrounded by archways and steps leading down to a main fire pit in the center. There were multiple fire pits along the perimeter. But there wasn’t a single Ancient in sight. My hand began throbbing once the chill from outside wore off. I’d need to see a healer when we got back to the right bank.

  Nils didn’t waste any time, shouting, “Come out, Azia, and let’s have ourselves a chat …”

  A fireball launched from behind one of the archways, nearly hitting Nils. More glowing orbs of fire came at us, but again my magic protected us from the onslaught.

  “… or I can just blow up this place,” Nils yelled.

  One of the temple keepers charged at us; the young girl with gleaming pale green eyes that shot forth rays of light. Nils dodged the beams, and I ducked behind a pillar. I’d have to call on some of my more potent magic but I didn’t want Nils to detect it.

  “Get out of our temple, you abominations!” the girl yelled, squinting her eyes and shooting more beams of blazing light at Nils.

  He rolled away, then came up from behind her and grabbed the back of her robe. He shoved her small frame into one of the pillars and pressed her face against the crumbling stone.

  I ran over to him and whispered, “Don’t hurt her!”

  Nils eyed me with confusion. “You want the conjurer, don’t you?”

  “Not like this,” I said.

  He continued smashing the girl’s face against the pillar, causing her to whimper.

  Desperate, I shouted into the temple, “Nobody gets hurt as long as Azia comes forward.”

  A gust of wind zipped through the archways, causing the flames in the fire pits to dance and flicker. Out of a burst of smoke emerged a man with long white hair wearing a tattered robe. He lifted his hands to use his magic, but I called on my own quickly and swept the air, binding his powers.

  “I see you have the Ancient touch,” he said, smiling. “No right-bank slaver I know can bind magic without the aid of a hallowed device. Only those of Ancient blood can do what you just did.”

  “I used a device,” I lied.

  His eyes glimmered from the fire, seeming to see right through me. “Mm hmm.”

  “I don’t buy into all of your Ancient religious magic mumbo jumbo. I’m here to take you to Counselor Magnus. So please cooperate.”

  Azia stepped forward and stared even deeper into my eyes. “You don’t buy into the Ancient truth, yet just bound my powers using it …”

  The old man was getting on my nerves, implying my secret magic was tainted with their religion and hocus pocus. “You don’t know anything about my magic.”

  He started laughing. “Calling the kettle black, are we?”

  “What’s going on over there?” Nils yelled, still holding the girl’s head against the pillar.

  “Got a troublemaker, but I’m sure a mage-cage will shut him up.” I lifted my baton to contain Azia, but before I leveled out my device, the old man disappeared into a silvery-white cloud.

  Thunder cracked inside the temple and from the dome above came bolts of lightning. I rolled out of the way to avoid getting struck. The explosion distracted Nils long enough for him to ease up on the girl, and she quickly blasted a hole beneath her feet with her eyes and dropped out of sight.

  “Watch it, Nils!”

  Another streak of lightning shot straight at him, but he lunged out of the way. The stone pillar cracked in half. Another blast hit the floor, splitting a crevice through the temple and blocking the main entrance. The two of us scrambled behind another pillar, scanning for a way out. The flames in the fire pits grew and spread like tentacles throughout the temple, weaving between the archways and around the pillars—coming right at us. We ran as the flames licked at our backs. Blistering heat tore down my arm. I called on my magic to protect us, but covering both of us drained too much energy.

  “Run!” I yelled, shoving Nils toward one of the open windows.

  “I’m not leaving you!”

  “Just get out of the temple! I’ll meet you back at headquarters.”

  “What about—”

  “I’ll handle Azia!”

  Lightning bolts continued shooting down from the dome and fire swept through the temple. But eventually the mage would grow weary and run out of magic, and that’s when I’d capture the old man. I threw Nils out the window and watched as he rolled down the side of the mountain through the shrubs and bushes, cursing me the whole way down. But at least he was alive.

  I went back to search for Azia, which might’ve been a tiny miscalculation. The flames had grown into walls of fire, trapping me in the middle of the temple. I began choking from the smoke and heat. My magic protection was no match for this inferno. I collapsed and crawled low, seeking a way out. I remembered the hole in the floor the girl had made. I stood up and sprinted over toward the pillar just as a ball of fire came at me. I ducked and slid across the stone floor, then dropped into the hole, not knowing where it would take me.

  CHAPTER 8

  The hole the girl had blazed was about three feet in diameter, tunneling below the temple. Pretty impressive, I thought as I crawled on my stomach through the narrow passageway. I came around a bend and found myself sliding down a steep slope face-first through the dirt. I gained momentum and tried grasping the walls to slow down, but the dirt only crammed under my fingernails. My broken hand throbbed as the gauze filled with loose rubble. I went down faster and faster, digging the toes of my boots into the ground, scraping and dragging them along. I squeezed my eyes and mouth shut to keep the dirt out.

  It seemed like the tunnel would continue to the center of the earth, but then the ground leveled out and my body slowed down, finally coming to a complete stop. Silvery light beamed in through a hole above, and I pulled myself up. I was at the bottom of the mountain. The girl was long gone. I shook off the dirt and pebbles from my bomber jacket, pants, and boots, feeling like a gopher coming to the surface.

  The sun started coming up in the east, and the low hum of shipping boats and factories thrummed in the distance. My mission
had taken too long. I’d have to take a ferry with the left-bank laborers heading over to the right bank, somehow passing through the Topaz operatives security without being questioned, detained, or harassed. No problem …

  My phone buzzed.

  I reached into my pocket with my good hand and my fingers brushed a business card: Daniel’s Delicacies. Oh yeah—the kid from the snack bar at headquarters. I ignored the phone and held the card with my dirt-stained fingers. The lettering began to sparkle—not because of the printer’s ink; there was some sort of magic charm on the card, turning the words into a twinkling constellation. An actual Calling Card … I hadn’t seen one of these before. I typed Daniel’s address into my navigation, and without another thought I started walking to his house.

  I stuck to the alleys and when I had enough distance from the temple, I turned around to scope out the mountaintop to assess the damage from the fire. The entire structure was untouched and intact—not a single scorch mark. Azia the Conjurer had used his Ancient black magic to trick me! It worked, because once again I had botched my assignment.

  By the time I reached Daniel’s building—a row of narrow rickety brownstones crammed up against each other—the sun was up and stretching its golden rays throughout the left bank. I had about two hours before I had to get to work. The savory scent of latkes hit me before I even got to the front door. My mouth watered. I lifted my swollen hand wrapped in filthy gauze, then used the other to knock on the heavy wooden door. A flurry of scuffling and whispers rose, until finally the door pulled open to reveal a young girl wearing a stained dress with patches sewn over the worn spots.

  “Yes?” she said in a tenuous voice.

  “I’m looking for Daniel,” I said in my most official voice, unable to imagine what I must’ve looked like covered in dried sweat and dirt. I brushed my sleeve, casually.

  “Hang on,” she said, shutting the door.

  More shuffling and banging, footsteps trailing off, then the door opened again. This time Daniel stood in front of me, scratching underneath his newsboy cap as he scanned me for a moment, then he smiled.

  “Jordan.” He opened the door wider. “I didn’t recognize you at first. Come in.”

  I stepped into the cozy townhouse, and a familiar feeling of comfort and warmth soothed me. The place was packed with books, old furniture, threadbare rugs, and though the paint was peeling from the walls it felt like home. Daniel’s place was comfortable and welcoming—the opposite of the austere estate I called home. A fire crackled in the fireplace and candles burned in the chandeliers.

  “This way,” Daniel said.

  I followed him down a narrow hallway toward the scent of potato and onions, then into a large kitchen. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling and a large griddle filled up half the back wall. A chopping block, which also doubled as a table, sat in the center of the room.

  “I’m just finishing up my batch for today. Have a seat.” He pointed to a stool next to the chopping block.

  “I’m going to cut to the chase, Daniel,” I said.

  “I already know why you’re here.” He turned over a few of the pancakes with browned edges on the large griddle.

  “You gave an operative a Calling Card. Do you know the consequences for distributing illegal paraphernalia?”

  “Paraphernalia.” He chuckled, tipping his newsboy cap.

  “Any reason you’re taking this so lightly?”

  “Yeah, but let’s clean off some of that dirt first.”

  He meandered over with a damp cloth and a ceramic bowl of water. I removed the filthy gauze and took the cloth, scrubbing the caked dirt from my hands. The bowl immediately turned to muddy water, mixed with pebbles and ribbons of red from the gash on my knuckles that had started bleeding again. Daniel reached for my injured hand and held it between his flour-covered palms for a moment. A warmth spread over my skin and a soft gleam of violet light surrounded my hand. He was healing me. The throbbing in my fingers had dissipated and the skin had smoothed over.

  “Hmm, more unsanctioned magic?” I asked.

  He flashed a smile. “Our secret.”

  “Thanks, I guess …”

  I looked away and continued scrubbing the grit from my hands. Daniel dipped another cloth into some fresh water and stood before me, wiping off my cheeks and forehead. At this rate, it would’ve taken all day to clean me up.

  “That’ll have to do for now,” he said.

  He went back to the griddle, piled a stack of latkes onto a plate, and came back over to the table. He set down the plate and sat on the stool next to me, handing me a cloth napkin.

  “On the house,” he said.

  I inhaled the scrumptious aroma of the warm potato pancakes. “I’m here on business,” I said.

  “Yes, Father has important business to discuss with you, but you need to eat something,” he said.

  “Is your father the one who put the charm on the business card?” I placed the napkin across my stained pants.

  “Just eat.”

  The temptation was too much to resist, so I picked up my fork and starting cutting into the stack of latkes.

  “Delicious,” I said with a full mouth.

  “Want some coffee?” he asked.

  I nodded and continued devouring the pancakes. Daniel poured me a mug of black coffee, then excused himself.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Gotta get ready for work,” he replied.

  “I’ll be taking the ferry back with you,” I said.

  “You have business here.”

  “What are you talking about, kid?” Irritation lent a bite to my words.

  He just smiled, tipped his hat, and left me sitting alone in the kitchen with my latkes and coffee. I thought about getting up to leave, but then the back door opened and slammed shut. A man bustled in carrying a cord of wood. He was middle-aged with the same shaggy dark brown hair and light gray eyes as Daniel.

  “I see you’ve answered the call.”

  I stopped mid-bite. “You know Calling Cards are illegal, right? And having your son do your dirty work, well, that’s just deplorable.”

  He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat on the stool across from me. His smile was pleasant, just like his son’s. “Enslaving people is deplorable. Using a bit of harmless magic is not.”

  “Is that right?” I chuffed, standing up to leave.

  He reached his rugged, calloused hand toward mine. “Name’s Haggai. I’ve been waiting twenty-two years for this moment, Jordan Temple.”

  “First off, my name is Jordan Bachar. And second, what are you talking about?”

  He causally sipped his coffee. “The prophecy has come to pass.”

  That was enough. I got up to leave. Why was I there in the first place? Momentary lapse of reason coupled with the lure of that damn Calling Card … And probably my subconscious looking for a way to postpone the dreaded conversation with Counselor Magnus. It was time to get back to the right bank.

  When I turned the knob of the back door, my head became dizzy and my vision blurred. Had these Leftbanker miscreants drugged my coffee? The kitchen grew warmer. The walls boxed in on me. I began pouring with sweat as my heart pounded.

  “What’s happening?” I swayed, grabbing for the wall.

  Haggai reached for my arm and helped me. “Everything is okay.”

  My head swished around like a boat in a storm. Whatever they had given me was potent. Once I gained my wits, I was busting this entire family.

  “What have you done to me?” I mumbled.

  “Come, let’s sit by the fire. I have a story to tell you.”

  I tried to muster up some strength to pull away. “Uh uh … you’re using … Ancient black magic.”

  “No, Jordan. Your soul is waking up. The truth isn’t easy to swallow at first. Let’s sit by the fire where it’s more comfortable.”

  Weary, I relented and Haggai ushered me down the hallway into the living room. He put me into a worn armchair next to the crac
kling fire, and I sat back and stared at the blurry flames.

  “Where’s Daniel?” I muttered.

  “Heading to work.” Haggai settled into the chair adjacent to mine.

  “I should be doing the same.” I tried to adjust my eyes, but everything remained bleary.

  “Work can wait. You must hear what I have to say. The time is nigh.”

  Haggai leaned over and rested his hand on my forehead. A restorative energy moved through my body. I could breathe again and my heart no longer hammered in my chest. The fire was now in sharp focus.

  He removed his hand and sat back in his chair. “Many years ago, there was a prophecy. A Chosen One would rise up among our people and lead us to freedom.”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard of the Oracle’s Foretelling. But you’ve got it backwards. She prophesied an Ancient would use powerful black magic to destroy Mysterium. But the virus came and nullified that problem.”

  Haggai meditated on the fire before returning his calm gaze toward me. “I suppose what you’re saying is one interpretation … that an Ancient shall come forth and destroy Mysterium. But let me assure you, it will not be with the use of black magic. And Mysterium will not be destroyed in the way that you think.”

  I peered into Haggai’s pale gray eyes. “Spoken like a true left-bank zealot.”

  He continued with his gibberish. “Mysterium isn’t what you think it is. Your people aren’t who you think they are. You’re not who you think you are.”

  “Oh, that’s deep. Who am I?”

  Haggai stood up and leaned against the mantle; those gray eyes cut into me like laser beams. “You’re the one who will bring the prophecy to fruition.”

  The fire made a loud snap and embers shot forth against the screen.

  I jumped out of my chair and faced Haggai. “Help you? Why? Your people terrorize the right bank. Murder my people using your black magic.”

  He didn’t flinch. “Because your real name is Jordan Temple. You come from Ancient blood. We are your people. And you are the Chosen One sent to fulfill the prophecy and lead us to freedom.”

  I felt dizzy again and collapsed into the chair. The Chosen One? Me? Was this lunatic serious? I was speechless, overwhelmed by the absurdity of his words. My head wanted to reject everything the mage had twisted into my thoughts, but a part of my heart believed him.