Chapter 2

W hen I approach the doorway leading out of Artist Alley, there's a man who doesn't move out of my way, despite the magic.

That means he has magic of his own.

Without slowing, I take his measure, Evram's wand at the ready. From across the room I don't sense any magic, which means he isn't actively using any, though he may have passive defenses deployed.

He's also one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen in the flesh, like he belongs on one of the art prints here. Charcoal-black hair artfully tousled like an anime character against a perfect bronze skin tone—not something you see a lot of in Seattle, even in August. Despite the crowd he's casually leaning against the doorway like he knows no one will walk through it, his Henley, jacket, and dark jeans still somehow revealing a slim but muscled form.

I'm not wearing more color than he is, honestly—dark skinny jeans and comfortable boots, a black unzipped hoodie over a t-shirt my sister got me that says "the softest paw can be a claw" with a little cat on it—and my brown hair in its ponytail contrasts my Seattle-pale skin tone.

But I blend into the background here, and he emphatically does not.

When I get close, he straightens up, liquid black eyes focused on me.

My grip on Evram's wand is firm. Magic crackles between me and the wand as I close in, our meeting growing inevitable. Fraught, a thousand possibilities in the air zeroing in on this moment—

But I don't slow down, walking right past him.

The man is like sex on a stick, but if he expects that to make me more amenable to giving him my time he's going to be disappointed.

The timer for keeping this stolen magic is ticking, and I won't slow down for anyone.

But rather than a pause for surprise, an attack from behind, anything I might have expected, sex-on-a-stick falls into step with me as if we'd planned it, keeping pace with me at my side without missing a beat.

A man who can keep up with me without me slowing down for him? I'm a dreamer, but really.

We'll see how this goes.

"I couldn't help but notice you getting the better of a grand magus," my mystery man begins conversationally, his voice like fucking velvet. Jesus. "I'm curious what you're planning to do with that wand."

I don't even look at him. "I'm sure you are."

"Ah, you don't know you can trust me. Sensible, as I haven't yet introduced myself. Nathaniel."

He holds out a hand without breaking stride.

Nathaniel , huh. Given the timing, Nathaniel almost can't be a Low Earth wizard—no one in this world has access to enough magic to be aware of what just happened, let alone get here so quickly. He'd have to have coincidentally already have been nearby, which is not impossible, but vanishingly unlikely.

So he's either from another world, or he's not human.

Or both.

I take his hand and ignore that the act of doing so makes us suddenly look like a matched set, combined darkness and stillness in a flurry of color. I've been looking at art prints too long.

"Sierra. I hope you'll excuse my lack of manners, Nathaniel, but I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"So you do have a plan, then, or are you simply running? The grand magus may need a little while to regroup, without his wand, but you must realize he'll be coming back for it."

That's why I have a narrow window. "Back with actually competent backup this time, yes, I did not manage to steal his wand by being stupid."

Nathaniel grins. I barely even see it, and it still zings across my senses. Wow.

"Then far be it from me to slow you down," he murmurs. "Might I instead offer my assistance?"

My instinct is to turn him down flat. I'm not good with people, and I can't afford the complication of an unknown agenda. But since I don't know who he represents, that rudeness might bring me more trouble than I can afford right now. "What's your interest?"

"What's your plan?" he returns smoothly.

I huff. Fair enough. I unfortunately like that whoever this man is, he clearly isn't stupid. "Then what help do you think you can offer?"

"I have a very fast car with easy access to the freeway."

I almost miss a step. Shit, that is useful. Being an intelligent person who knows magic, he'll have guessed I'm heading for a reserve of power, which are most likely to be found deep in nature—which is to say, not in the middle of downtown Seattle. The streets around the convention center will be packed with Comic Con traffic, and I need to get across the bridge to the east side of Seattle as quickly as possible. It's not like I can rely on a rideshare to speed for me, let alone drive to an unmarked place somewhere in the forest.

Damn. Given my timeline, I really can't pass that up, no matter what his interest is. Still, I have to ask, "What do you want in return?"

He gazes down at me. "You asked for my reasons. Let us say I have no love for the grand magus and wish to see what a mage of this world can do against him."

My hand tightens on my wand, the only outward reaction that I allow.

I wish more wizards in this world had been willing to wonder that.

But it doesn't matter now, does it? I need the speed he can offer, desperately. Whatever he's really here for, I'll have to deal with it.

I nod sharply. "You're welcome to observe, then, as long as you don't interfere."

"Done," he says, too easily.

Is observing to report to someone really all he wants then? I don't buy it; I'll have to be on my guard for when he attempts to use his in and make a move. As if I didn't have enough to think about.

The speed is worth it , I remind myself. You can handle this. Him. Whoever he is.

"Shall I drive, then?" Nathaniel asks, a pair of car keys appearing in his hand as if by magic.

I narrow my eyes. I didn't see that happen, and even walking right next to him I barely felt it. That's interesting.

Alarming, but interesting.

"Yes, as fast as you can," I tell him. "Thank you."

As long as he's driving, my concentration will be free to watch him, and my hand can be on my wand if he—or anyone else—tries anything.

He flashes another sharp grin at me that makes me think he suspects exactly what I just thought.

A s soon as we're on the freeway, my cellphone rings. So much for the freedom to watch him, but maybe it's best I don't get caught up in what he looks like.

Nathaniel has so far been as good as his word, getting us out of Seattle in record time without any tricks—except from my end, a tiny amount of magic to nudge traffic so we can merge faster—or even further questions. He's even managed to look like he doesn't still have them. Playing cooperative—for now.

I still keep Evram's wand firmly in hand—the hand farthest away from Nathaniel, so he can't suddenly reach out and snatch it easily—while I dig in my pocket for my phone.

I don't even bother to look at the caller ID before answering, because there is exactly one person in the world who calls me out of the blue—frankly I'm just surprised she isn't texting, which probably means she's mad. I can't blame her. "Hey, Brook."

"What the fuck are these videos going around on social media?" my teenage sister snaps. "Where are you?"

I open my mouth to answer and abruptly think better of it. Not because of Nathaniel, but because Evram knows where Brook and my parents live—they haven't moved since I left for High Earth or was returned. It's never occurred to me before what a security risk that is, but then, I never really expected to have the chance to move against High Earth. Evram will definitely try to track his wand first, but it's not impossible he will try to use my family against me.

Not likely—since I spent my formative years in High Earth, he won't assume I have a strong relationship with my parents, and he would be correct. But if he can't get the wand easily, which I aim to ensure, then he may look for other low-hanging fruit.

All of which is to say, the less Brook knows right now, the better.

Finally I tell her, "I'm going to be busy for a while. Sorry to vanish on you suddenly, but we both know you don't need a chaperone."

A pause on the other end. "Sierra. The last time you gave me a runaround answer I was seven and had just told you I didn't believe in magic."

I wince. I really didn't lay any groundwork for this with my sister. I've been bluntly honest with her since I returned from High Earth and discovered my parents had decided to have another child in my absence.

When a Low Earth child is taken for High Earth, a spell makes them believe their child qualified for a prestigious foreign boarding school. Kids aren't usually gone for long, so it doesn't impact their education much long-term. But in my case, I was completely out of touch for so long that my parents missed having a child and vowed they'd never again give up the chance to be real parents. So I got to leave for magic school for ten years, while my sister has lived with their helicopter parenting since. I try to help her whenever I can—whether that's taking her places without their supervision or never lying to her.

But this is different.

I honestly had no idea she'd remember that conversation when she was seven—how many people remember conversations at that age with any nuance?—but while we don't have magical ability in common, my sister's mind is as much of a steel trap as mine.

And that memory is sharp as knives. That was the time I'd started to share with her the magic I cared so much about, and she'd shut me down by trying to convince me not to treat her like a stupid child. And I realized I couldn't prove her wrong and that since I couldn't offer her magic making her hope for it like I did would be cruel.

It was the first moment I believed magic might be lost to me forever, and it crushed me, and I never tried to talk to her about it again.

I've been silent too long. Brook says, "The video. Sierra. You weren't lying to me about magic, were you? What's going on?"

Nathaniel's eyes are on the road, but he's obviously listening; I'm right next to him.

Well, fuck it. I don't lie to my sister, and I can hex him if I need to, no matter who he is or works for.

"I'm bringing magic back," I say. "For everyone."

I practically feel the magic zinging through me, resonating with my statement of intent.

Nathaniel's hands tighten on the steering wheel, just for a moment. It's the only sign he's heard. My hand tightens on the wand just in case.

"Is that dangerous?" Brook asks.

Impossible to overstate how dangerous. "Yeah." I take a breath, trying to keep my focus evenly split between Brook, who deserves my attention, and Nathaniel, whose presence requires it. "There's a slim chance you might be targeted. I can't protect you yet, but I'm going as fast as I can. They don't really know how technology in our world works, but when you get home you should take down any physical pictures of us together in case they come looking for a hostage."

"Jesus, Sierra. Are you shitting me right now?"

"No, but I don't think you're in any real danger. This is just a precaution."

If I thought she was in real danger, would it change anything for me? I don't answer that, even to myself.

I'm doing this.

Brook is quiet for a longer beat this time. Then she says, "Next time I see you. Will you do magic for me?"

A lump forms in my throat all at once. I'm going to be able to share magic with my little sister after all.

Somehow I choke out, "I will. Call you when it's done."

I silence my phone and shove it back in my pocket.

Deep breaths. Focus on the unknown next to you.

"So," that mystery says in his velvet voice. "That's your goal. You know they'll kill you."

I've been avoiding thinking about that too, but somehow High Earth ignoring me for ten years is worse than the idea of all the people I knew there trying to kill me.

At least now they'll have to acknowledge that I exist.

It occurs to me that Brook might feel differently, but since I don't actually intend to let them kill me it's fine.

"I know they'll try," I say.

"You're sure of yourself in a death match with a mage?" Nathaniel asks. He sounds casual, like this is an idle curiosity to him.

Probably he is attempting to assess whether I'm delusional.

"You did just watch me solve a spell even the grand magus couldn't," I remind him.

"That's an entirely different situation than a fight to your death," Nathaniel counters. "I also had a fine view of your expression when you performed that spell. Conflicting emotions in a death match will get you killed, and since if they catch us before we arrive I'll be treated as your accomplice, reassure me that I should not just pull over on the side of the road now."

So, he has experience with death matches too. This is better and better.

I still need his car, dammit.

I lean back in my seat, my fingers playing along Evram's wand, tingling with every touch as I rapidly, internally sort through the spells I could throw at Nathaniel at a moment's notice without crashing. It really is better that someone else drive so I don't have to worry about that.

So, how to reassure him? Nathaniel has no reason to understand that a magic duel holds no terrors for me—Evram deployed me as his champion for years, in duels no one thought I could win.

I didn't understand for a long time that was less because of his belief in me and more because I was expendable.

"Grand Magus Evram," I say, "was a person I trusted for years. He's the one who saw what I was capable of, who trained me much longer and more thoroughly than he was supposed to, and who made me believe I could stay and have magic forever. And then he betrayed me, just because it was easier. Not even because he was threatened by my growth—I'd have crawled over broken glass for him and thanked him for the opportunity, and he knew it. He was supposed to be the one who would have my back, and he had the power to, but rather than looking for any way at all, he abandoned me like garbage. So yes, I experienced some feelings, but no, I will not have any hesitation when he comes for his wand. I know better than anyone what he's capable of."

Okay, so, that may have been more than I needed to say. With magic literally at my fingertips, this is all feeling a little close to the surface. Maybe Nathaniel has a point, and I need to process some emotions before Evram gets back.

I don't have long.

I feel the weight of Nathaniel's gaze on me, but when I look his expression is unreadable. "I'm sorry," he says. "I know too well what that's like."

"Oh?"

He thinks for a minute how much to tell me. "I always thought everyone should have equal access to magic, and I faced censure for the apparent audacity of that belief from people I once called family. The consequences of that censure... you might say changed my life rather dramatically, to put it in the mildest possible of terms. I admit I had despaired of finding anyone else who felt that way, let alone a stranger."

Everyone should have equal access to magic. I feel his offhand statement in my fucking bones.

It's still only sort of an answer, if more of one than he owes me, even with my outburst of honesty. But with the memory of my confrontation with Evram just behind me, the memories my sister brought up, and how badly I have tried to find anyone in this world that seemed to care about this same thing, it's enough to make me confess, "I wish I could tell you it's only altruism on my part. But I never could let magic go, even though all the other wizards sent back from High Earth seem to be able to. It's easy for me to risk everything and damn the consequences, because for me the chance of magic is more important than life without it. I always wondered, if the others really believed it was possible to have magic back, if they would fight for it. I don't want anyone to have to go through what I did, having all the magic of a world at their fingertips and then having it ripped away."

He is watching me silently, his eyes dark, and I have the sudden impression that he understands what it is to feel the magic of a world ripped from you.

I'm projecting. That's not exactly a common experience.

I finish, holding his gaze, "But ultimately, I'm selfish. I won't give magic up, and I will do whatever it takes to be able to work magic again on my terms, not High Earth's or the angels' or anyone else's. So if you want to pull over and get out, I understand. But I'm not stopping."

Nathaniel studies me for a long moment, shadows stirring in his eyes as I feel an answering sizzle of magic in my heart, then nods sharply and turns his attention back to the road. "But you're not bringing magic back only for yourself."

"No," I admit. "Because you're right, everyone should have access to magic, and fuck them for putting us in this position."

"Then you're not truly selfish."

My heart squeezes. A nice thought, and it matters to hear from him in a way I didn't expect— because he's also a stranger, maybe?—but he's wrong. I've warned him, though, so let him believe that if he'll keep his foot on the gas pedal.

A devastating smile curves Nathaniel's mouth. "And if I pulled over, you'd just try to steal my car to get you the rest of the way to your fight, wouldn't you?"

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. He's onto me. "Absolutely."

"In that case, I'm happy to accompany you the rest of the way."

"And after that?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral even as nerves flood my chest. I focus on the grand magus' wand in my hand.

I have a wand again. I can do this.

"What do you mean?"

"You say you think everyone should have access to magic. How far are you willing to go to make that happen?"

Nathaniel's expression goes careful. "I respect what you say you're trying to accomplish. But I don't know you, and you don't know me."

"Exactly," I say. "I don't know what you're risking if you help me, or if you don't. So if you're not willing to help me, I understand, but I want you to stay out of my way."

"I already promised not to interfere."

Why doesn't that feel like enough anymore?

"And I'm making sure we both agree what that means. When we get to the grove, I'm going to need to need all my concentration for a spell. I don't want to be looking over my shoulder, especially if Grand Magus Evram arrives with reinforcements."

"Then I promise I will do my utmost to stay out of your way," Nathaniel says smoothly.

I narrow my eyes. "Which means?"

"If I believe you're trying to kill me, I won't simply allow it," he says dryly.

I snort. That's as good as I can expect, under the circumstances. It doesn't feel like enough, but it will have to be, unless I want to bind him with magic. I don't have time, and I don't want to waste the magic, but it would be safer.

The plain fact is, though, that I don't want to. It's what Evram would do. I am selfish and ruthless, but I also don't want to become him. I hope this isn't the wrong call.

It's not my feelings during a death match that worry me. It's these.

"Fair enough," I manage, as if this is in any way adequate or something I can count on. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." A thread of amusement in his voice; he knows, too. "But if I may, you seem very sure," Nathaniel says, "that you won't need help to do this. A thing that no one has attempted in centuries, let alone managed."

Put that way, it's easy enough to imagine what I must look like to this man, whoever he really is: arrogant, untested, an easily vanquishable outlier, caught up in bitterness and vengeance. I wouldn't agree to help someone in this situation either, given what he knows of me.

But it's not arrogance if you can back it up, and I intend to.

"I have not counted on anyone's help in ten years," I say. "I understand you don't know what I'm capable of. Neither do they, really.

"But they're going to."