The one bit of good news was that Anne and Variam were still enrolled in the Light apprentice program, a kind of university structure where apprentices are taught in small classes, meaning that even if they don’t have a master they still have opportunities for study. Problem is, you’re not supposed to be allowed into the program unless you’re sponsored. Jagadev had arranged for Anne and Variam’s entry, and when the two of them had moved into my flat people had assumed I’d taken over their sponsorship, even though officially I hadn’t. If I petitioned I might be able to manage it . . . but then again I might not, and whether or not it worked it would draw all the wrong kinds of attention. “Do you want to push harder?” I asked Anne.
“How?”
“You know why you’ve been turned down so much,” I said. “It’s the whole history with Sagash and Jagadev.” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “There are mages who’d be less concerned by that.”
“Dark mages?” Anne said quietly.
“Not all of them,” I said. “It’s just . . . Look, so far I’ve been pretty picky about the mages I’ve approached. If anything’s made me even a little bit twitchy, I’ve steered clear. I could change that. It’s not something I want to do, but . . . as things stand right now, you and Vari have absolutely no rights under mage law. Living with me gives you a little protection but not much, and it’s not like I’m exactly short on enemies. I don’t like the idea of you guys signing up with a mage I don’t trust, but in the long run it might actually make you both safer.”
Anne had listened quietly as I spoke, watching me closely. As I finished my food, she thought for a second and shook her head. “No.”
“Not all of them are going to be bad. They’re just ones I’m not sure about.”
“Then I don’t want to go near them. I don’t want to be apprenticed to a mage I don’t trust. I’d rather have no master than a bad one.”
“It might take a while—”
“Then I’ll wait,” Anne said. “I don’t care how long it takes. I was Sagash’s apprentice once and I’m not doing that again, not ever.” Her eyes were set and there was an anger there that brought me up short. “As long as there’s any chance they could be like that, I’m never going with them.”
I leant back in surprise. “Okay. I guess we’ll cross off that plan.”
Anne stared right through me, and for just a moment I wondered where I’d seen that expression of hers before. A memory flickered through my head: green light flashing off bones, a body falling . . .
Then Anne seemed to realise what she was doing and the moment was gone. “Um . . .” She brushed her hair back, turning her face away, suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean . . . Is it okay us still staying here? I don’t want to . . .”
“Oh, it’s fine,” I said, though inwardly I was curious. What had triggered that? “Look, you guys have been here long enough to see how active a social life I usually have. It’s nice having people to talk to.”
“You don’t mind being so crowded?” Anne asked. “I mean, this flat’s not that big.”
I shrugged. “I’m kind of the self-contained type. As long as you guys don’t start sleeping in my bedroom I’m fine.” Though come to think of it, I always used to have trouble sleeping if anyone else was in the flat. For some reason Anne and Variam didn’t trigger that reflex.
Anne smiled, but it faded quickly. She looked like she was working her way up to asking something. “What is it?” I said.
“Um . . .” Anne said. “It’s just . . . You don’t get uncomfortable when I’m near you, do you?”
I looked at her in surprise. “That’s a weird question. No, why?”
Anne looked away. “Mages . . . usually don’t like it if I’m close to them.”
“Why not?”
“You know . . .” Anne stopped and started again. “People show their feelings in their bodies. The tension, the way they move . . . If they’re afraid or uncomfortable I can see it.”
I looked at Anne, puzzled. “Okay.” I had the feeling she was trying to tell me something, but I wasn’t sure what.
I heard the sound of the back door from below. “Vari’s back,” Anne said before I could check. She got up, taking the plates to the sink. I thought about asking more, but I could already hear Variam running up the stairs and decided to leave it for another time. A second later Variam came in, and by the time we’d sorted out who would get to use the shower first I’d forgotten about it.
Chapter 2
Anne and Variam’s appointment was for eleven o’clock; they were seeing a mage who’d been recommended to me as someone who might be able to help out with their finding-a-master problem. After they were gone I went to wash up, found that Anne had done it already, and went downstairs to open the shop.
My day job when I don’t have anything life-threatening to deal with is running a business called the Arcana Emporium, the name of which is a long-winded way of saying “magic shop.” I don’t publicise that I’m a mage, but I don’t exactly hide it either, and one of the odd things I’ve learnt over the years is just how much you can get away with if you’re blatant enough. Hide something behind smoke and mirrors and make people work to find it, and they’ll tear the place down looking for what’s there. Put up a sign up saying magic shop, and no one believes you.
I still don’t know where most of my customers come from. I don’t advertise and I’m off the main street, so most of it has to be word of mouth. Every now and again I’ll Google my shop to see what people are saying about me and I swear I get the weirdest results. There are people out there who think I’m everything from a reincarnated angel from the pharaoh dynasties of Egypt to a thousand-year-old half dragon who’s secretly sponsoring a quest across time and space in an attempt to kill himself. (No, I don’t know why.) I suppose I should be grateful there isn’t any slash fiction. On second thought, I’m not going to look too closely just in case there is.
Anyway, the result of all this is that I get a pretty bizarre mix of customers. The biggest group are the tourists and curiosity-shoppers, and they’re pretty easy to deal with. They take for granted that magic isn’t real, and so for them it’s a simple business transaction. I get money, and they get something weird to take home, where they’ll tell stories about the funny guy who pretends to sell magic items. Mixed in with the normals are the clued-in—sensitives, adepts, apprentices, and even the odd mage. They’re the ones my stock is actually for, and they’re definitely the only ones who have any idea how to use it. I like talking to these guys.
The problem customers are the ones in between. They know that magic’s real, but they expect it to behave like . . . well, like what they mean when they say “like magic.” Now don’t get me wrong, magic can do some pretty impressive stuff, but it has limits and it has rules. If you try to mess with it without knowing what you’re doing, it’s far more likely to complicate your life than it is to help. It’s not a universal solution to whatever issues you might currently have.
None of which stops people from coming in here expecting me to fix their problems for them.