Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 3

Griffiths swore and rushed forward, Rufus on his heels.

“Good God man, are you quite alright?!” the sergeant barked.

“Yes, Sir,” the constable replied hastily. “But—it’s a disaster!”

Shaw moved past the inspector and the sergeant, and picked some kind of seed off the constable’s uniform. To everyone’s horror, she brought it to her mouth and licked it.

“Jesus wept, Miss Shaw!” Griffiths rasped.

Shaw arched a quizzical eyebrow at the constable. “Melon?”

The young man nodded jerkily, colour staining his ears a little at Shaw’s proximity. “Yes, Miss. A cart full of melons bound for Covent Garden crashed into a wagon of berries and pomegranates headed to Kensington Market.”

Relief shot through Evander. Rufus visibly relaxed.

Brown’s lips twitched. “My, it sounds like a veritable?—”

“Don’t say it,” Evander warned.

“—fruit salad out there, eh?”

Everyone groaned, including the constable with melon stains all over his uniform.

Brown beamed at Evander’s sharp stare. “What’s life without a good pun now and then, your Grace?”

Evander sighed. “It’s less irritating, Mr. Brown.”

Another constable dashed into the alley. “Sarge, we could use some help out here! A fight’s broken out!”

As if to underscore his words, an enchanted whistle pierced the rowdy air.

“Bloody hell!” Griffiths cursed.

He hastily gathered his men and headed towards the thoroughfare, the runes on his truncheon coming to life as he removed the weapon from his waistband. The Met’s preferred mode of dispelling rabble-rousers these days was to use defensive magic before inflicting bodily harm.

Rufus hesitated and looked over at Evander.

“Go.” Evander jerked his head after Griffiths’s disappearing figure. “We’ll be alright.”

Rufus nodded and headed after the sergeant, leaving Evander in the alley with the forensic mage and the alchemist. Evander knew he was keen to make sure things didn’t get out of hand out there.

Tensions between the magicless and those who ruled over them were on the rise, a result of the stark and growing disparity in wealth that existed at either end of the societal class. The East End, with its squalid districts rampant with poverty, crime, and desperation, was a simmering cauldron of resentment and loathing just waiting for the perfect spark to kindle a fresh conflict. One Evander feared could lead to another War of Subjugation.

Shaw watched Rufus leave with a conflicted expression.

“What’s the matter?” Brown asked.

“I’m wondering if I should go out there and secure one of those lost melons.”

Brown squinted. “They ain’t lost, Shaw. And what you’re describing is theft.” The alchemist glanced at Evander. “Help me out here, your Grace.”

“Mr. Brown is right, Miss Shaw,” Evander said as he wandered deeper into the alley. “You’ll get in trouble with the law.” He paused and arched an eyebrow at the forensic mage. “I’ll bring you a melon next time my cook buys some, so please refrain from accidentally nicking one of those unfortunate cantaloupes on your way out of here.”

Shaw brightened and fist-pumped the air. Brown muttered under his breath.

Something clinked against Evander’s boot. He frowned and lifted his foot out of the puddle he’d just stepped into. Water dripped into the dirty spill, spreading ripples across the brown surface.

A faint blue light flashed weakly beneath it.

Evander’s pulse quickened. He squatted and carefully moved aside the rock his boot had dislodged, exposing a small object.

Shaw and Brown joined him as he picked it up and brought it to eye level.

“What is that, your Grace?” the alchemist asked curiously.

Evander stared at the small crystal vial. It had a slim body and two tapering ends, fitting easily in the palm of his hand. A clear, sparkling azure liquid filled the hollow chamber within.

It didn’t look like the sort of thing you’d find in the East End.

Evander’s heart slammed against his ribs.

His intuition was telling him the object was a magical item. One linked to the victim.

His gaze shifted to the dead man, gauging the distance between the body’s point of impact and the location of the vial.

Was it on him when he fell?

The hairs lifted on the back of Evander’s neck in the next instant.

The air in the alley thickened with a suddenness that made his ears pop. Dread chilled him when his breath misted in front of his face.

Dark magic!

Shaw and Brown doubled over before he could shout a warning. Their hands rose to clutch their temples even as their faces contorted in expressions of pure agony, the suddenness of the invisible attack robbing them of breath and stealing their cries before they could form.

The only thing that protected Evander from the debilitating effect of the spell that incapacitated his associates was his powers.

Coolness bloomed in the centre of his chest and filled his veins as he drew on his water magic, the tingling flow matching the rhythm of his heart. The sensation changed to a sharp, biting cold when he shifted its focus from liquid to ice.

Fire magic would have been more useful under the circumstances, its purification effect capable of burning away dark energies and spells from the air.

Sinister black trails coiled through the frigid atmosphere out of the corner of Evander’s right eye just as a two-foot long icicle materialised in his left hand.

He twisted sharply on his heels and hurled it at the gap in a doorway that should have been sealed. The weapon flew straight and true, its trajectory guided by his powers.

The hooded figure lurking in the shadows of the building jumped back and cursed. Wind whipped violently into life around him, shifting the icicle’s path at the last moment.

It slashed a cut in the man’s right thigh, pierced his cloak, and smashed into the wall behind him. Glittering fragments peppered his clothes as he whirled around and vanished from sight.

Evander scowled. He jumped to his feet and gave chase.

Shaw and Brown gasped and wheezed behind him, the dark mage’s fading spell removing the constraints binding them in place.

“Wait, your Grace!” Brown shouted weakly.

Shaw started running after Evander, earth magic blossoming on her fingertips.

He darted inside the building without waiting for her. The enchanted folding cane strapped to the inside of his right forearm snapped out of the sleeve of his frock coat with a flick of his wrist.

Stairs appeared at the end of a gloomy passage. A startled shout rose from somewhere up them. It was followed by a cut off, gurgled scream.

Evander gritted his teeth.

Blast it!

He took the stairs two steps at a time.

Movement above him sent his pulse skittering.

Evander smashed aside the dark magic bolts raining down on the staircase with his cane. The projectiles raised clouds of brick dust where they impacted the walls.

The first landing came in sight around a corner. A man lay on the floor, body limp where he’d fallen on his front. Blood trickled from a fresh wound on his temple.

Evander paused long enough to make sure he was breathing before leaning over the banister.

“We need a doctor!” he shouted at Shaw.

The forensic mage nodded briskly at the bottom of the staircase, a stone truncheon in hand. She spun around and retraced her steps, her chest heaving with her breaths.

Evander looked up and narrowed his eyes.

Their assailant was on the second landing and moving fast.

He resumed the chase, his body growing light as he called upon his wind magic. Currents formed under his feet. They carried him up the staircase, nearly doubling his pace.

A vicious oath somewhere above told him his attacker had clocked his new speed. Evander had no doubt the man had picked up on the fact that he could wield both water and wind magic.

By the time he reached the attic room the dark mage had run into, the man had disappeared through an open window under the rafters. A breeze carrying the sour reek and noise of the slums ruffled the thin curtains framing it.

Evander crossed the rickety floor and hooked a leg over the windowsill. A loose tile shifted under his foot. His gaze found the cloaked figure running nimbly along the ridge of the building.

Evander climbed out onto the pitched roof, stabilised his body with a buffer of wind magic, and went after him.

The dark mage accelerated as he neared the end of the ridge. He leapt across the fifteen-foot gap to the next building and landed in a low crouch on the roof, magic cushioning his fall. He rose and broke into a run, a smirk stretching his mouth under his hood as he glanced back at Evander.

His expression froze in the next instant, shock rounding his pale eyes and causing his steps to falter.

The icicle left Evander’s hand at the same time he jumped across the drop, wind magic beneath his feet and at his back.

The dark mage veered desperately to avoid the attack. He cried out and stumbled when the weapon found his left flank.

Evander touched down lightly on the roof and bolted after him.

The wounded mage gained momentum. Shadows misted the air around him as he called upon his dark powers.

Evander lowered his brows.

This bastard has no intention of stopping!

He accelerated, the tiles trembling under his footsteps.

The dark mage didn’t slow down when he reached the roofline. Instead, he twisted his body, spread his arms, and fell backward off the building, his cloak fluttering wildly around him and his eyes burning with hate as he glared up at Evander.

Evander’s heart leapt in his throat as he skidded to a stop on the brink of the drop, velocity tilted his body perilously forward. He pinwheeled his arms, slammed his cane in a groove in the roof, and stepped back, his boots knocking a couple of tiles off the building.

The clay slabs tumbled through the air before smashing noisily into the street below, narrowly missing a barrow boy and a butcher’s stall. The pair startled and swore loudly, the boy’s curse words painting the air blue.

“ Evander! ” Rufus yelled somewhere behind him. The inspector’s voice was full of fear.

He’d dropped all formal address in the heat of the moment.

“I’m alright,” Evander shouted back.

He panted, gaze sweeping the busy market lane.

There was no sign of the mage, nor could he sense any trace of the dark magic he had used against them.

Evander frowned as the shrill sound of enchanted whistles splintered the neighbourhood, the crystal vial he’d been hanging on to throughout the chase digging into his palm.