Mage Against the Machine
Product description Harry Potter meets The Terminator in this action-packed adventure about a young man who discovers that everything he believed about his world is a lie. The year is 2120. The humans are dead. The mages have retreated from the world after a madman blew up civilization with weaponized magical technology. Safe within domes that protect them from the nuclear wasteland on the other side, the mages have spent the last century putting their lives back together. Nikolai is obsessed with artifacts from twentieth-century human life: mage-crafted replica Chuck Taylors on his feet, Schwarzenegger posters on his walls, Beatlemania still alive and well in his head. But he?s also tasked with a higher calling-to maintain the Veils that protect mage-kind from the hazards of the wastes beyond. As a cadet in the Mage King?s army, Nik has finally found what he always wanted-a purpose. But when confronted by one of his former instructors gone rogue, Nik tumbles into a dark secret. The humans weren?t nuked into oblivion-they?re still alive. Not only that, outside the domes a war rages between the last enclaves of free humans and vast machine intelligences. Outside the dome, unprepared and on the run, Nik finds Jem. Jem is a Runner for the Human Resistance. A ballerina-turned-soldier by the circumstances of war, Jem is more than just a human-her cybernetic enhancement mods make her faster, smarter, and are the only things that give her a fighting chance against the artificial beings bent on humanity?s eradication. Now Nik faces an impossible decision: side with the mages and let humanity die out? Or stand with Jem and the humans-and risk endangering everything he knows and loves? About the Author Shaun Barger is a Los Angeles-based novelist who detests cold weather, idiot plotting, and fascism. He splits his days between writing, resisting the siren?s call of Hollywood?s eternally mild summer climes, and appeasing a tyrannical three-pound Chihuahua with peanut butter and apple slices. Mage Against the Machine is his first novel. Find him on Twitter and Instagram @ShaunBarger. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Mage Against the Machine I. AMERICAN WIZARD A mage in black followed a trail of footprints through the darkness of a thickly wooded forest, unseen. The trail had been left by a dead man who?d been speaking to his revolver, last the mage had seen him. Anxiously eyeing the shadows between the trees, he wondered if the rune-etched firearm had responded. The mage was young-barely out of training-with dark, carefully tousled hair and a slight frown that might have seemed permanent to those who didn?t know him well. His replica high-top sneakers squelched wetly in the sodden moss as he tracked the dead man?s steps, which shimmered with a golden light through Nikolai?s enchanted spectacles. Nikolai Strauss was being stupid. He knew that he was being stupid. His first actual assignment and he?d already lied to his team-to his friends. Already defied his orders to: Observe. Do not engage. Report immediately should the buyer be spotted. Technically, Nikolai wasn?t really even on this case. He?d been a cadet until a few months ago. The Edge Guard insignia on the breast of his uniform was so freshly made that the enchantments still tickled when he brushed his fingers across the slick enamel surface. This was supposed to be some simple field experience for training-a low-risk opportunity for Nikolai to observe more experienced Edge Guard agents working the field as they staked out an illegal artifact exchange. They probably wouldn?t have even brought him with them all the way from the capital if the buy hadn?t been going down in Marblewood, Nikolai?s hometown. The captain had suggested that Nikolai?s relationships with the citizens of Marblewood might come in handy should they find themselves short on leads. Though Nikolai hadn?t kept in touch with anybody from his hometown (and would have preferred to keep it that way) the intel implicating the Eaglesmith family had smothered his protests. He was indifferent to the family as a whole. His scorn was reserved for his former classmate, Joseph Eaglesmith, rich-kid golden-boy athlete and longtime boyfriend of Nikolai?s estranged childhood sweetheart. Nikolai hated the prick. And now, for his pettiness, here he was. Alone. In the dark. Following a possibly demented Battle Mage with a magic gun. Sure, Nik was also a Battle Mage, well versed in the magical arts of violence. He was a member of the Edge Guard, a powerful government order charged with the defense and maintenance of magical domed Veils that hid the magi from the ruined human world, which had been reduced to lifeless, magically radioactive wastelands a century prior, in 2020. The Edge Guard also investigated crimes that fell under the jurisdiction of multiple Veils. But mostly, Nikolai got coffee. Nikolai was happy to just get coffee for his senior teammates, leaving them to handle the dull responsibilities of the stakeout. To nod and say ?Yessir? at all the right moments, occasionally jotting a note into the margin of whatever novel he currently had his nose buried in. The problem was, Nikolai was now pretty sure that their entire reason for being there was bullshit. That there?d never been any artifact smugglers-that the intel was just a ruse. Bait, specifically set to draw Nikolai back to his hometown, away from the watchful eyes of the capitol. The Eaglesmith family?s involvement was a juicy worm wriggling at the end of a hook. Nikolai hadn?t said much about his life back in Marblewood to his fellow Edge Guards. From what little he?d let slip, however, his thinly veiled grudge against the rising flyball star had featured prominently. After a couple of drinks, at least. The mage who?d set the bait had once been Nikolai?s mentor. His friend, even. And Nikolai knew that if his superiors got to him first, he?d never have a chance to speak to Hazeal alone. Never have a chance to ask without supervision why his former mentor had gone to such lengths to contact Nikolai. Or how the hell he wasn?t dead. His old mentor had first made contact when Nikolai was on his way back from a cafe half a block from the stakeout earlier that day, three boiling hot coffees floating precariously before him on a tray of hardened air that looked like frosted glass. ?I have a message from your mother,? came a voice so quietly that Nikolai might have imagined it. He spun around, searching, scanning the bustling pedestrian crowd until he found a swarthy, middle-aged mage (whom Nikolai had almost certainly never seen before) staring at him from across the street, under the awning of a butcher shop. Everything about the mage was forgettable. He was neither ugly nor attractive, wearing a plain charcoal topcoat over a suit that might be found in the closet of any clerical mage with a middling desk job. The only noteworthy thing about him was his conical, wide-brimmed hat, which was normally only worn with formal robes. Still, there was something about the mage that put Nikolai on alert. His hand, hovering twitchy and trembling at his hip. His eyes, wild and tight with pain. The stranger pinched the rim of his hat and the illusory disguise pulled away in neatly angular folds of colorful light to reveal a mage that Nikolai knew quite well. His name was Hazeal. Lieutenant Armand Hazeal. The kindest of Nikolai?s teachers during cadet boot camp in the capitol, who?d always gone out of his way to make sure that Nikolai, more than any of his other students, was managing well both as an Edge Guard trainee and a young, small-town mage adjusting to life in the big city. Killed just six months prior, in a scuffle with a pair of corrupt Watchmen. So they?d been told. There?d even been a funeral. Underneath his disguise, Hazeal was sweating, filthy, and appeared to have aged ten years since Nikolai had seen him last. A strange revolver hung holstered at his hip, surface etched with runes that pulsed as Hazeal pushed aside his topcoat to grip the pommel. Nik had been so dumbfounded at the appearance of his old teacher that he momentarily neglected maintaining the spell he?d used to create a tray for the coffees. ?Sh-shit-akro!? He?d cast too late, whipping out a half-formed blob of the glassy substance in a fruitless attempt to catch all three drinks. One of the boiling brews poured harmlessly down the defensive enchantments of Nikolai?s Edge Guard jumpsuit uniform, but reflexively he yelped and dropped the rest as he danced back. When Nikolai looked back up, Hazeal seemed to be engaged in a furious hissed debate with the revolver. Noticing Nikolai?s gaze, Hazeal angrily tugged his coat back over the holstered weapon and released his pinched fingers from the brim of his hat-the illusory folds of his disguise snapping back into place. ?Find me where she used to hurt you,? he said, once again barely audible from across the busy street. Then, with a strange smile, he tipped his hat at Nikolai and darted away into the crowds. Though reeling from the words and the flood of traumatic memories that came with them, Nikolai managed to fire a tracer enchantment onto the back of Hazeal?s coat before completely losing sight of him. Then, struggling to maintain some semblance of calm, the young mage took off sprinting toward the building where his team was hidden on their stakeout. The Edge Guard trio had spent the past four days holed up in a dusty apartment across the street from the secondary Eaglesmith estate, practicing the art of silent patience while they waited for their covert surveillance wards to trigger any sign of activity. Nikolai?s first superior officer, Junior Lieutenant Ilyana Xue, passed the time between shifts by working out, chain-smoking from a long-stemmed cigarette holder, and experimenting with various chemicals and potions-with occasionally explosive results. There was a crass sort of elegance about Ilyana. She had the swaggering, smarmy charm of a trust-fund troublemaker, despite her oft-voiced contempt for the upper class she was obviously a product of. Nikolai?s second superior officer, Junior Lieutenant Albert Cross, wrote letters to his extensive noble family, bid extravagantly on remote auctions for rare art, artifacts, and grimoires, and caught up on the hottest new Schwartzwaldian operas: tiny stages vivid on postcard glossies from his sister, audio quietly resonating from a polished copper memory cube. He?d idly translate lyrical snippets from French, German, and Italian, explaining the plots while Ilyana and Nik politely feigned interest. Ilyana and Albert were only a couple years older than Nikolai, and now just one rank higher. Though they?d initially taken him under their wing as informal big-bro/big-sis mentors, in the two years since he moved to the capitol to join the Edge Guard they?d become Nikolai?s closest friends. Maybe his only friends, considering how long it had been since he?d spoken to anyone from Marblewood. They looked up with shock as Nikolai burst into the cramped apartment. ?Just ran into my ex,? he lied in a rush. ?Said I?d grab a quick drink with her, you guys don?t mind, right? I?ll be back in an hour, maybe more, sorry bye!? And off Nik had gone, his two supervising officers too startled to argue as he pursued Hazeal into the thickly shadowed depths of Marblewood?s forest. Nikolai had recently graduated the Edge Guard?s sparsely populated cadet training academy with the rare honor of highest distinction-a fact that he was always sure to teasingly remind Albert and Ilyana of, who, without the edge unpleasantly afforded to Nikolai by the brutal training he?d endured as a child from his Edge Guard mother, had merely graduated with distinction. For the first time, Nikolai felt a true appreciation for the immense scope of drills and training he?d received as a cadet, covering everything from tactical featherweight acrobatics to covert urban and wilderness tracking-the latter of which he was, at that moment, specifically grateful for. The afternoon sun grew soft in the wood, the dappled light dim across Hazeal?s fading footsteps that Nikolai could see through his government-issued tracking spectacles. Hazeal?s tracer was no longer moving up ahead, and it wouldn?t be much longer before he?d catch up to the disturbed mage. With every step closer he took to his former teacher, Nikolai grew more apprehensive-his initial confidence that Hazeal would never hurt him growing less and less certain. But as his fear grew, so did his curiosity. A message. From his mother. Had Nikolai heard him correctly? His parents had been dead for a decade. Killed in a skycraft crash when Nikolai was only ten. Ashley Strauss, his mother, had also been a member of the Edge Guard. Lancer Class-the highest rank attainable, required for expeditions beyond the Veil, into the ruins of the human world. Hazeal claimed to have only known Ashley in passing-praising her brilliance and lamenting her loss whenever Nikolai had asked, but no more so than any of the other Edge Guards who?d served with his mother. If anything, Hazeal had been more reticent than most. As if he hadn?t actually liked her very much, but knew better than to say so. Though it was obvious they?d never been close. So what could Hazeal possibly have to tell Nikolai about his mother? Nikolai wondered if Captain Jubal, the commander of the Edge Guard, knew that Hazeal was still alive. Nikolai was extremely fond of the captain, and couldn?t imagine that he would have lied to them about it. Maybe Hazeal was undercover, and the funeral had been a government-sanctioned farce. But why would an undercover agent who?d gone so far as faking his own death reveal himself to a lowly sergeant? Second possibility: Hazeal was dirty, and was going to trick or manipulate Nikolai into helping him with some sort of espionage. Maybe he was corrupt-maybe he?d gotten deep into some shit and the Moonwatch had caught wind of it. Maybe he?d faked his own death to get out of Dodge, and not even Captain Jubal was the wiser. But Hazeal? Corrupt? It just didn?t fit. He was a family man with a long career in the Edge Guard. He liked expensive tea and cooking extravagant meals for his children and grandchildren on the weekends. He was respected, and, well, a little bit boring. So if Hazeal had faked his own death, then why? And what did any of that have to do with Nik?s mother? Nikolai had to know. If he told the others about seeing him, not even Ilyana would hesitate to call in the higher-ups. She was fiercely loyal to the captain, and Albert, though less fond of Jubal than Ilyana and Nikolai, was a strictly by-the-books kind of mage. ?Hello, Nikolai.? Nik wheeled around with a stifled yelp, barely resisting the terrified knee-jerk urge to blast his former teacher with a thousand degrees of boiling flame. The tracer remained stationary a mile or so north-but then Nikolai noticed that Hazeal was no longer wearing the coat. Damn. He must have found the enchantment. Hazeal idly spun the chamber of the rune-etched revolver. His smile was weary, his eyes unfocused as he stared through the spot where Nikolai stood, hidden from view by a thin layer of magical invisibility. Hazeal?s voice was soft. Raspy. ?No, no, I can?t see you.? He popped the chamber into the revolver, admiring the weapon. ?But this can.? ?Lieu . . . Lieutenant.? Nikolai tried and failed to keep the tremor from his voice. ?Not lieutenant.? He chuckled bitterly. ?Not even a mage anymore.? Only then, with Hazeal no longer wearing his coat, did Nikolai notice the absence of the ivory staff and the jeweled whip that used to hang at his sides. His Focals. Objects much like a wizard?s wand from one of the old human stories-objects a mage never went without, due to the weakening of power they would suffer without a Focal to channel their spells. Nikolai looked him up and down, sure that he must have them hidden away. But no, he realized with horror-they were gone. Hazeal?s pleasant expression slipped into irritation. ?If I?m going to kill you, there?s nothing you can do about it. Even without my magic. Not even the Mage King could stop a bullet from this gun. So please drop the cloak. I like to look a mage in the eyes when I discuss matters of importance.? Nikolai bit back a growled response at the threat, considering whether or not it was a bluff. But the mage-half-mage now, apparently-gripped the revolver more tightly with every passing moment. ?Okay. Please don?t shoot, Lieu . . . Armand. I just want to talk.? The weaves of invisibility melted from Nikolai like mercurial foam. Hazeal smiled, eye twitching. The fingers holding the revolver remained tense. He reached over his free hand to caress the papery skin of his gun hand, as if calming an animal. ?I thought you were dead,? Nikolai said. Careful now. ?The captain sent us here to investigate an . . . artifact exchange.? Nik glanced down at the gun. ?Don?t look at it don?t look at it DON?T LOOK AT IT!? Hazeal snarled, weathered face pulling back in animal terror as he closed the distance between them. Nikolai stood, frozen, eyes locked with Hazeal?s, inches from his own. Trembling. Unmoving. Hazeal let out a long sigh. ?You have to be careful,? he said. ?It?s sleepy now. I?ve used it too much, since I lost my magic. Been its servant for too long. It?s a powerful weapon, Nikolai. And the knowledge it carries! The spells! But it?s like snatching gold from a dragon?s mouth.? Hazeal chuckled, pale eyes twinkling, and for the briefest moment Nikolai saw the shadow of the jovial mage he?d once been. But then Hazeal flinched, whipping his head back and forth as he looked around the clearing, seeming to have forgotten how he got there. Then he looked back at Nikolai, the weathered lines of his face going slack. ?I?ll be dead soon, and I?m a half-mage now. My soul is . . . withered. When I die, I?m just going to turn off. Whatever lies in the Disc, whatever afterlife or void might await normal magi-I?ll no longer have the opportunity to discover what that might be. So why not deal with the devil?? ?Do you really have a message from my mother?? Nik asked, voice barely above a whisper. The smile returned, the half-mage?s eyes clearing. He pointed up. ?Do you know what?s out there?? he said. ?Beyond the sky? Outside of our domes, our Veils?? Nik hesitated, unsure of where Hazeal was going with this. ?Of course.? The chaos of shattered reality and radioactive wastelands. The end result of a magically enhanced nuclear exchange that killed off mankind a century before, in 2020. Lancer Class Edge Guard regularly braved the desolation, carefully documenting their expeditions for the largely disinterested public. Nikolai had seen it all. ?Do you now?? Hazeal chuckled. ?I?ve seen it, you know. With my own eyes. It?s as terrible as you think. But not in the way you suspect.? Nikolai eyed him, impatience starting to mingle with fear. In the year since he?d last seen the old mage, Hazeal had turned into the fucking Cheshire cat. Hazeal drew a handkerchief from his pocket, mopping his weathered brow. ?Your mother was the one who brought me there,? he said, folding the handkerchief into an uneven rectangle with trembling fingers. ?It?s what killed her, in the end.? Nikolai froze. ?What . . . are you talking about?? ?I owe your mother a great debt, Nikolai. To say the least. But now, that debt is paid.? Hazeal reached into his pocket, serpent quick, and tossed Nikolai a slick medallion. Nik ignored his instinct to slap it away with a swipe of his baton. He caught it, powerful enchantments burning cold against his skin. Nikolai eyed the shimmering medallion in his palm as if he?d been handed a grenade. A dimly luminescent crescent moon set against the illusion of star-spangled sky. The rank insignia of the Moonwatch-a clandestine network of the most powerful living Battle Magi serving as royal assassins, spies, and secret police, as well as the only order to outrank the Edge Guard. It was the king?s own license. A key to any lock. ?I lost my magic fighting a Moonwatch to get that for you,? he said, through gritted teeth. ?Burned myself out. Should be a few weeks before they realize the owner is dead. Hide it. No, don?t just put it in your pocket, I said hide it!? Slowly, Nikolai slipped off his sneaker and stowed the medallion away, never taking his eyes off Hazeal as the old half-mage?s expression flitted madly between sorrow, rage, and euphoria. Hazeal clamped the handkerchief on the revolver?s grip and drew it from its holster. Nikolai tensed, reaching for his Focals as he prepared to dive aside and kill the half-mage. But Hazeal wasn?t trying to shoot Nikolai. Careful not to let his fingers touch the rune-etched steel, he offered it to Nikolai, pommel first. ?This was your mother?s. She wanted you to have it.? Nikolai eyed the revolver suspiciously, not moving to take it. ?I thought you said you had a message for me.? ?A message, and gifts,? he said, eye twitching impatiently. ?The insignia, so you can go see what kind of men you?re really working for. Especially that murderer. That fucking butcher.? ?Who?? Hazeal?s cracked lips widened into an unpleasant smile. ?Why, your precious Captain Jubal, of course. But don?t take my word for it. Look to his library, and see for yourself.? Nikolai furrowed his brow, incredulous. ?And the revolver?? ?She wanted you to use it. Wanted you to finish what she couldn?t.? ?Finish what? Use it for what?? ?The gun will teach you the secrets of manipulating Veil with the apocrypha weave, if you ask it to. To make a door in the sky.? He looked up at the lush roof of leaves fiery red with autumn, his eyes lit with a junkie?s wild gleam. ?So you can see what the human world is like, for yourself.? ?Why don?t you save me the trouble and just fucking tell me?? Nikolai snarled, eyeing the revolver like it was a venomous insect. Hazeal whimpered, suddenly appearing quite frail. ?Please, Nikolai. I?m not supposed to, I don?t understand why. It won?t hurt you. I promise it won?t. I?m only this way as punishment. For what I did.? ?Punishment? For what?? His eyes welled up with tears. ?Your mother died because of me. She-? ?My mom and dad died in a skycraft accident,? Nikolai said, cutting him off. ?How is that your fault?? ?No, Nikolai. I?m afraid that?s not what really happened. The crash was just a cover, for an embarrassment to the crown.? The realization that Hazeal was telling the truth hit Nikolai like a steel-toed kick in the balls. Though he wasn?t surprised-not really. How could that terrifying woman have possibly been killed by something so mundane as a crash? ?She trusted me,? Hazeal continued. ?Asked for my help. But I lied. Pretended I was on her side, then ratted her out. Swallowed my guilt and moved on with my life, until six months ago I found a parcel. Shelved among my books, covered in an inch of dust, as if it?d been there for years. But I?d never seen it before.? Perspiration darkened the handkerchief clenched around the gun from fingers visibly straining with effort. ?Your mother discovered my treachery too late to save herself and the others, but apparently with enough time to leave a vengeful little gift for me-enchanted to remain hidden until enough years had passed for you to become a fully-fledged Edge Guard. Which she never doubted you would. I went out of my way to show you kindness when you joined the Edge Guard as a cadet, to alleviate my own guilt. But when I opened that parcel to find the revolver . . . your mother?s messenger made it quite clear that my debts were far from paid. So please. Take the gun. I?ll give you her message afterward, just please. Let me be done with this.? ?How do I know this isn?t a trick? None of this makes sense. How am I supposed to believe you?? Nikolai shook his head. ?No. Give me the message first.? ?Please, Nikolai . . .? ?Message first. Then we?ll see.? Hazeal paled, hesitating. ?She hurt you, when you were a child. In this very forest. Every morning. For years. And then . . . in the end . . . before she died . . .? Nikolai flinched, feeling as if he?d been slapped. ?Stop.? ?. . . she hurt you even more. The worst she?d ever hurt you.? ?I said stop. Shut up!? ?She needed you to know that she never wanted to hurt you. That she was sorry. So very sorry. And even though she could never ask you to forgive her for the pain she caused you . . . she hopes that this final inheritance might make up for it, at least in part. That once you possess the revolver, she can be at peace knowing that no one will ever be able to hurt you again.? Hazeal?s haggard features softened as he watched Nikolai, who felt smaller with every word. ?I don?t know what it means, Nikolai. I don?t know what she did to you. But . . . that final, terrible thing. Does anybody but you know about it?? Nikolai grew dizzy, blood pounding in his ears as he struggled against the onslaught of horrible memories. ?N . . . no.? ?This isn?t a trick. Your mother was a deeply flawed woman. But she loved you. And I know for a fact that she would have destroyed whole cities to keep you safe.? Hazeal took a step closer, eyes brimming with a concerned, fatherly warmth. Revolver still held aloft for Nikolai to take. Nikolai took the gun. An overwhelming sensation-an almost liquid pleasure-seeped into the skin of his fingertips as a woman?s voice whispered promises of secrets and power and violence and sex and fire and blood and- Nikolai tried to let go, screaming as he fought against the crushing euphoria, struggling to shut out the voice and the feeling of violation as it touched his mind, as the cool creeping tendrils spread into his pools and channels of magic. The hellish ecstasy tore away like a stinging shock of icy water as the gun was knocked from his grasp by a muddy stick Hazeal swung hard enough to break two of Nikolai?s fingers. The silky, irresistible whispers dwindled to a distant hush as the revolver tumbled away. For a moment, Nikolai could only stand there, stunned as he stared at his hideously crooked digits. Then pain exploded in his jaw as Hazeal slammed a heavy fist into his face. Reeling, Nikolai drew his baton Focal to try and defend himself, but Hazeal tackled him, howling with crazed, triumphant laughter. ?You thought you had me! You thought I was yours but I?m a half-mage now. I hid my mind! And now . . .? His hands were slippery as they found purchase around Nik?s wrists. A cloud of flame billowed out to the side from the tip of Nik?s baton as Hazeal turned the hand away the instant before Nik could incinerate him. Mud steamed and blackened. Moss turned to ember, filling the air with putrid smoke as Nik struggled and screamed under the thickly built man. ?St-stop! STOP! Get-get the fuck off of-? ?I lied, Nikolai! Your mother was a vile woman. Everyone else worshipped her, but I knew what kind of mage she really was. I knew! Just like I know you?re going to be monster, like her. If not worse.? Nik strained with his broken-fingered hand to draw his second Focal-a dagger. The pillar of flame billowing from his baton grew to a blue-and-red inferno jetting off beside them, and Nik could feel his hair smoldering, could see Hazeal?s filthy clothes catching from the heat alone, and- Hazeal wrenched the wrist of Nikolai?s baton hand with an audible crunch. The billowing inferno sputtered out as the baton slipped from fingers Nikolai could no longer control. Hazeal cast aside the baton, then drew Nik?s blade Focal and tossed that away as well. ?I should?ve known she?d make me pay eventually. But I?m glad they killed her! Just like I?m going to kill you. I hope she?s watching from hell.? He struck Nikolai in the face with the bloodied knuckles of his free hand, each punch a distant thud the young mage could barely feel anymore. A thread of light silently pierced Hazeal?s neck. There came a flash of heat and the pressure released, the weight of the stocky man suddenly gone. Nikolai sputtered and choked, blinded as he was enveloped by a thick cloud of ashes. Two voices argued loudly over him. ?-STYX Ilyana this is an order do not give him that potion you are NOT a healer and you just killed that mage oh Disc I knew Nikolai was up to something but of all the foolish, idiotic-? ?We?re the same rank, Albert,? Ilyana said, her voice shaking audibly. ?You can?t give me orders.? Her hands trembled as she cradled Nik?s head and poured something warm and bitter into his mouth. ?If I hadn?t killed him he might have killed all three of us, and-don?t touch that gun!? Nikolai choked and spit and tried to open his eyes but he was still blinded by the ashes of the dead half-mage. The bitter warmth of Ilyana?s potion spread in an instant-throat to stomach, stomach to fingertips. Pain disappeared. The voices became distant. Darkness took him. ?Superstitious bullshit,? Nikolai grumbled as they descended the great white steps into a hall draped with red and gold. ?This is such a waste of time. I?m fine.? At the end of the hall stood a pair of immense polished black doors, standing in sharp contrast to the white stone. A dancing glow flickered from under the doors, moving and refracting like light reflected off water. ?You were exposed to dangerous magic,? Ilyana said. ?Dirty. Old.? She pointed at her temple, twirling her finger. ?Crazy-making.? ?I?m surprised the healer didn?t try to leech me. Or rub me down with snake oil.? ?That healer managed to rebuild your shattered face to its former glory without so much as a scar. So stop complaining.? ?Money maker intact,? Nik agreed solemnly, rubbing his chin. ?Disc bless that mage.? ?And I don?t know about you, but I wouldn?t say no to a snake-oil rub,? she said, nudging Nik with her elbow. ?Depending on the masseuse.? Nik smiled weakly, but he could tell that her cheerful bravado was at least partially a facade. ?Your healer gave orders to sit in the Disc?s light for at least two hours to be cleansed. Dirty magic gone.? Ilyana?s colorfully painted eyes teased from below Cleopatra bangs as she pushed open the big black doors. ?And if that doesn?t work, we can always try skinny-dipping in the sacred water.? The Marblewood Disc Chamber was a cavernous dome of slick white marble, built so that hundreds of magi could comfortably stand around the smooth glassy pool at the center of the room. Hovering over the pool was Marblewood?s enormous white Disc. It shone with silver light as it floated at the center of the domed ceiling, seeming to pulse and strain against the massive black chains that held it in place. It dripped occasional droplets of water infused with magical energy, feeding the pool below. It was roughly the shape of a coin, soft-edged and otherworldly. Every Veil had its own Disc. Limitless supplies of magical energy revered by some magi as gods-or God, depending on whom you asked. The truth of their origins was long lost to history. All that was known for certain was that without the Discs, there would be no magi. The Discs were silent. Eternal. And when a mage died their soul slipped from their bodies, a phantom visible to only the most powerful magi as it returned to the nearest Disc and disappeared forever within its pearly depths. Ilyana watched with delighted amusement as Nikolai unslung a bag from his shoulder and produced a picnic blanket. ?We?re going to be here for a while,? he said, spreading the cloth across the floor along the curving wall. ?Might as well get comfortable.? He pulled a couple tall, amber-tinted bottles of expensive honeybrew from the bag and popped the caps with a wedge of hardened air. ?Want one? Doc didn?t say anything about drinking.? En route from the healer ward to city hall the day after Nikolai?s traumatic encounter with Hazeal, they?d made a brief stop at the safe house so Nikolai could freshen up, change, and quickly pack a bag to bring along for the prescribed