Grace of Small Magics(2)
Author: Ilona Andrews

He strode unhurriedly towards the glass doors. Grace matched her stride to his. She supposed she should have bowed and kept her mouth shut until she was spoken to, but she felt too hollow to care. “You robbed me of what might be my last moment with my mother,” Grace said softly.

“It couldn’t be helped,” he answered, his voice quiet and deep.

They stepped into sunshine in unison. A black vehicle waited for them, sleek and stylish. The trunk clicked open. Grace deposited her backpack into it. The man held the rear door open for her. Grace took her seat on the leather.

The man slid next to her, filling the vehicle with his presence. She felt the warmth of his body and the almost imperceptible brush of his magic. That light touch betrayed him. She glimpsed power slumbering inside him, like an enormous bear ready to be roused and enraged in an instant. It sent shivers down her back, and it took all of her will to not wrench the car door open and run for her life. “You’re him.”

He inclined his head. “Yes.”

The car pulled away from the kerb, carrying them off. Grace looked out of the window. She had made her choice. She was a servant of Clan Dreoch and there was no turning back.

The scenery rolled by, scrawny shrubs and flat land, its sparse-ness mirroring her bleak mood. Grace closed her eyes. A whisper of magic tugged on her. It was a polite touch, an equivalent to a bow. She glanced at him. Careful green eyes studied her. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Grace.”

“It’s a lovely name. You may call me Nassar.”

Or “Master”, she thought and bit the words before they had a chance to escape.

“How much do you know?” he asked.

“I know that my family owes your family a debt. One of you can call on one of us at any time and we must obey. If we break our oath, you’ll murder all of us.” She wished she had been told about it sooner, not that it would make any difference at the end.

His magic brushed her again and she edged away from it.

“What else?” Nassar asked.

Say as little as possible. “I know what you are.”

“What am I?”

“A revenant.”

“And what would that be?”

She looked him in the eye. “A man who died and robbed another of his body so he can continue to live.” The cursed revenant, Gerald had called him. A bodysnatcher. An abomination. Monstrously powerful, clouded in vile magic, a beast more than a man.

Nassar showed no reaction, but a small ripple in his magic sent her further away from him. She bumped into the door.

“Any further and you’ll fall out of the car,” he said.

“Your magic . . . It’s touching me.”

“If all goes as planned, you and I will have to spend the next few days in close proximity. I need you to become accustomed to my power. Our survival will depend on it.”

She sensed his magic halt a few inches from her, waiting tentatively. She was a servant; he could force her. At least he permitted her an illusion of free will. Grace swallowed and moved within its reach. His magic brushed her. She winced, expecting his power to mug her, but it simply touched her gently, as if her magic and his held hands.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I know how people in your family see me. Body thief, aberration, murderer. The Cursed One. What I’m called doesn’t concern me. Neither I nor my family will torture, rape or degrade you in any way. I simply have a specific task I need completed. I need you to want to succeed with me. What would make you want to help me?”

“Freedom,” she said. “Let my family go, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

He shook his head. “I can’t give you permanent freedom. We need your services too much. But I can offer you a temporary reprieve. If you and I succeed, you can go home and I promise not to call on you and yours for six months.”

“Ten years.”

“A year.”

“Eight.”

“Five.” The resolute tone of his voice told her it was his last offer.

“Deal,” she said softly. “What happens if I fail?”

“We’ll both die. But, our chances of success will be much better if you stop fearing me.”

That was certainly true. “I’m not scared of you.”

His lips curved slightly. “You’re terrified.”

She raised her chin. “The sooner we get done, the faster I can go home. What do you need me to do?”

Nassar reached into his jacket and took out a rolled-up piece of paper. “In our world disputes between the clans are resolved through war or by arbitration.”

Grace arched her eyebrow. “How many clans are there?”

“Twelve. We’re now in dispute with Clan Roar. War is bloody, costly and painful for everyone involved and neither of the families can afford it now. We’ve chosen arbitration. The issue is pressing and the dispute will be decided through a game.”

He unrolled the picture and held it. She would have to move closer to him to see it. Grace sighed and moved another three inches to the right. Their thighs almost touched.

Nassar showed her the paper. It was an aerial photograph of a city.

“Milligan City,” Nassar said. “Squarely in the middle of the rust belt. A couple of decades ago it was a busy town, a blue-collar haven. Good life, family values.”

“Defined future,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes. Then the conglomerates shifted their operations overseas. The jobs dried up, the real-estate values plummeted, and the residents fled. Now Milligan’s population is down 42 per cent. It’s a ghost city, with all the requisite ghost city problems: abandoned houses, squatters, fires and so on.” He tapped the paper. “This particular neighbourhood is completely deserted. The city council’s getting desperate. They relocated the last of the stragglers to the centre of the city and condemned this neighbourhood. In nine days, it will be bulldozed to make way for a park. The arbitration will take place here.”

“When I think of arbitration, I think of lawyers,” Grace said. “Both sides present their case and argue to a third party.”

“Unfortunately this case isn’t something that can be settled through litigation,” Nassar answered. “Think of it in this way: instead of having a large war, we decided to have a very small one. The rules are simple. This area of the city was warded off from the rest, hidden in the cocoon of magic and altered. It’s been officially condemned, so no others are allowed near it. Those who try are firmly discouraged, but if someone does make it through, to their eyes the area will appear as it always was.”