Excerpt from Prologue
Adrien never liked being in this part of town, dirty, criminal hotbed that it was. He stood three doors down from a seedy tavern, across the street from a gambling den, in the doorway of a brothel, and wondered just where he’d gone wrong in life to end up there at three o’clock in the morning. Worse yet, he’d lost the magical trail he’d been following that had led him down here in the first place, so he had no idea which way to turn.
Anyone that thought being a sorcerer was a glamorous occupation had bats in their belfry.
Disgusted with the whole situation in general, himself in particular, he decided to call it quits for the night. It had been half-curiosity anyway, it wasn’t like the trail he’d sensed had been connected to one of his paying cases, so he really didn’t need to pursue it any further. Time to return home, to the more respectable part of town, and tumble into his bed. He moved off the doorstep before he could get propositioned—again—and headed for the next corner. Did taxis even run at this time of night? Sod it, he’d find a half respectable doorway and--
A pained cry and grunt came from the alley near him. He turned toward it automatically, unable to ignore that sound of distress, and the sight that met his eyes made his blood boil over. In the refuse and stink of the alley lay a young person, he couldn’t tell from this angle whether it be male or female, with a larger, drunken brute kicking abusively at the torso.
“Halt!” Adrien barked, the hem of his coat flaring as he moved sharply toward the two. “Stop that this instant, before I curse you stupid.”
The man stopped kicking, his gait a little unsteady, and looked up to sneer at Adrien. “This is no businessh of yoursh. Move on.”
Despite the drunken slur, this was obviously a man of education, and the clothes he wore indicated that he was either a lord or a very wealthy merchant’s son. Adrien took in his state of semi-undress, then the young man lying on the dirty ground, who had his pants down to his thighs, and the obvious hit him.
This bastard had bought a male prostitute, and either in shame or anger, was taking out his frustrations on the poor child.
The anger he felt before went to another level entirely and Adrien let a curse fly off his tongue, the words roughly delivered. The man paled hearing them, staggering back, as the words for magic were unmistakable even to a novice’s ear. Even the boy on the ground looked stunned, staring up at Adrien wide-eyed.
“In case you’re wondering,” Adrien snarled at him, “I just cursed you to have postulant boils on your cock every time you get an erection for the next year. That is the very least of what you deserve for your abuse on this young man. If I catch you near a prostitute again, I’ll renew the curse for ten years. Now, get out of my sight, before I lose my temper completely.”
“Y-you can’t—” his protest died, as it was too late to deny it now, or argue against it. The curse was already laid. Pale faced, he grasped his clothes together and fled the alley, pushing past Adrien in the process, as the narrowness of the walls forced the contact.
Adrien let him pass, his concern now fully centered on the boy still lying on the cold stone. Kneeling, he requested, “Lay still, now, a little longer. Let me heal you.”
“Please sir,” the boy gasped in a threadbare whisper, “I can’t pay you for such treatment.”
“Nonsense, I don’t require it,” Adrien assured him gently. He stripped off his gloves, reaching out to touch the boy’s side with probing fingers. The first touch sent a spark straight through him, and he froze, staring in disbelief.
Oh hell.
This was the source of the trail earlier? This boy? He studied him more carefully in the very dim lighting available. Barely into his teens, thin as a rail, fair haired and perhaps good looking although it was hard to tell under the bruises forming. How the hell had this boy gotten so old without someone noticing his magical affinity?
Swearing internally, he bent back to the task of healing him, as either way, that needed to happen. Adrien’s magic flared into visible lines, overlaying the body in front of him, blazing in signals and numbers, reporting the damage. Three cracked ribs, a bruised lung, multiple bruises and lacerations on his torso, arms, and face. Was the bastard trying to kill him? The bruised lung alone was life threatening.
The boy shivered under the magic, or perhaps it was the coldness of the stone seeping into his skin. Then he shifted a hand, watching as his wounds closed up and disappeared, eyes wide with wonder. “That’s bloody amazing, sir.”
“It is,” Adrien responded lightly even as he debated the best course of action. He absolutely could not leave the boy here. “Give it another moment to fully heal your ribs, then we’ll get you off this nasty ground. I’m Adrien Danvers. Who might you be, lad?”
Those wide eyes went in danger of popping out of his head. “The sorcerer, Adrien Danvers?”
“Heard of me, have you?” This pleased Adrien a great deal as he’d only been in this business seven years and hadn’t always spent his time in England. It would help speed this conversation along.
“Sir, I doubt there’s a bloke in all of England that ain’t heard of you,” the boy stumbled out, still incredulous. “Whatcha doing out here, this time o’ morning?”
“As it turns out, looking for you.” Judging that the magic had done its job, he levered the boy carefully to his feet.
A little shame faced, he quickly pulled up his pants and redid the buttons, his head turned away from Adrien as he did so. Another shiver racked him from head to toe. “’s not possible, sir.”
“Very possible. Here, I’ll prove it. Hold out your hand.”
Very wary, but with no real reason to distrust him in that moment, he held out a hand. Adrien placed his hand flat on top, then lifted it quickly, leaving a magical flame behind. The boy yelped, jerking in shock, then stared incredulously as the flame continued to dance on his palm without going out or causing him injury.
“I would not have been able to leave a flame unless you, yourself, had the magic to support it,” Adrien informed him factually. “I came into this godforsaken area of the city because I sensed raw magical power, and followed the trail, but I lost it several minutes ago. Of course I did, it’s obvious now, your power shut down when you were injured. You, young man, are my business here.”
The boy stared at the dancing flame for the longest moment, doubting his own eyes and senses.
A little impatient, as Adrien felt exhaustion pulling at his very bones and still wanted his bed, he prodded, “Your name, lad?”
“Julian,” he whispered.
“Julian,” Adrien repeated thoughtfully. No last name? “I must ask you the obvious questions, I fear. Have you a master, parents?”
Shaking his head no, Julian steadfastly refused to look at him.
“I thought as much, otherwise I would not have found you here.” Adrien paused to really consider the matter. He absolutely could not leave this boy here, not with the sheer amount of power he possessed. Untrained, raw as it was, and still he sensed it eight blocks over? Simply inconceivable. The state of the laws as they were, Adrien sadly could not trust the boy to any other master’s care. Once they’d learned his former occupation, he’d be immediately sent to the goal for it. Adrien never thought to take on an apprentice, but the facts stood as they were, and he couldn’t in good conscience try and shuffle the responsibility to anyone else. “Well, you have a master now, if you’ll accept me.”
Julian’s head snapped up, staring nearly eye to eye with Adrien. Even as a teenager, he had more height than Adrien, which smarted a mite. “Sir. Y-you can’t mean….”
When he trailed off uncertainly, Adrien completed firmly, “That I’ll take you as an apprentice, yes, of course I will. You should have already had a master and it’s inexcusable to find one with your talent in this state. Now, will you accept me?”
His mouth opened and closed several times, body shaking. “Sir, I’d dearly loved to, but…”
Not understanding what would make him hesitate, Adrien pressed him. “What? Julian, if you don’t explain the problem, I can’t understand nor help you address it. What?”
“Sir, I have a brother here,” Julian finished in a rush, words nearly tripping over each other. “I can’t leave him behind, he won’t survive on his own.”
“Ah.” Adrien pondered the problem for a moment. “Is this a blood relative or a brother of your heart?”
Julian bit his lip uncertainly and failed to respond.
“The latter, huh.” He truly didn’t think he’d ever have two children to look after, but…well. He understood the importance of family. And what the loss of them entailed. He frankly wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. “It makes no difference to me, you understand, a brother is a brother no matter how you acquired him. I just asked for curiosity’s sake. Alright, if you refuse to go without him, then I’ll take him in as well.”
Julian froze, even breathing beyond him. He managed a croaked, “You will?”
“I’ll figure out what to do with him later. Maybe train him to be my valet? I’m in need of one.” Adrien dismissed the concern with a shrug, as he could ponder on the matter when his mind wasn’t mush. “For now, let’s go fetch your brother. I want to be in bed before the sun rises again.”
“Thank you.” Julian gave him a quick bow, clutching the flame to his chest with both hands. “Thank you so much.”
Loosening the coat around his shoulders, Adrien pulled it off and put it around Julian, as the boy was not sensibly dressed for this weather. “Let the flame go out, no need to hold it any longer. Good. Lead me to him quickly, then.”
Julian headed off at a quick pace, clutching the coat around him, a smile flickering on and off his face like a gaslight. He kept glancing back at Adrien, uncertain, then with renewed confidence. Adrien had the notion the boy thought he was passed out and dreaming this whole thing up. How often had he dreamed of being rescued out of this foul place?
They went down two streets and into a brothel that had definitely seen better days, judging from the peeling paint on the trim. Adrien’s nose wrinkled at the stench of beer, vomit and other things he didn’t want to identify. Hell’s bells, the boy worked here? Perhaps even lived here. Places like these treated human beings like cattle and he hated the very existence of them.
Julian went to a side door, slipping through the warped wood, then paused to whisper, “Master, I’m not sure how safe it’ll be for you to follow me up. I’ve payment due, see, and no money to offer the boss. Mac’s likely in the same state.”
“Tell me something, Julian.” Adrien unfortunately felt he knew the answer, and he could already feel his temper stirring, but forced himself to ask the question anyway. “That prick from before. Did he refuse payment, and you persisted, and that’s why he beat you?”
A little shame faced, Julian nodded. “More or less, Master.”
“I should have cursed him for ten years after all,” Adrien muttered to himself in disgust. “Alright, I understand the problem, and if that’s really the case then I absolutely can’t let you go in here alone. Lead the way, lad, I’ve got your back.”
That seemed a novel concept, an adult’s protection, as Julian seemed quite taken aback at the statement. Then his smile flicked on again, tentatively, and he finally led the way up the very narrow stairs. Adrien kept right at his heels despite his exhaustion. He’d already been up since dawn this morning, and this day had not been an easy one. He was nearing the time of being up for twenty-four hours straight, and likely would by the time he settled his two apprentices in at home. Would this day simply never end?
Ah, dammit, he’d have to at least examine them before he could let them rest, too. Even though he’d healed Julian, he’d not thought to check if the boy had caught anything from his clients, and with his brother working the same occupation…best to nip anything in the bud. It wouldn’t be without its costs, the potions he had on hand for that sort of business weren’t cheap, but if luck were with all of them, the boys would prove clear of infection.
With one more thing on his to-do list, Adrien felt even wearier than before. He’d definitely be sleeping in late tomorrow.
At the top of the stairs, Julian went left, passing several doors. From the sounds, each room was occupied in every sense of the word. They reached the back of the hallway, and Julian opened another door that revealed a second staircase, which he took up. This time, they went into a large, open space with a low ceiling. An attic made over into a dormitory of sorts? There was no heat source up here and he could literally see his breath. Adrien counted a dozen beds, most of them occupied. People actually slept up here in this frigid cold?
Julian went straight to one, laying his hand on the sleeping boy’s shoulder and shaking him urgently awake. The occupant sat up quickly, and a whispered conversation ensued for a moment before he looked sharply toward Adrien.
Not willing to stand about in the very dim interior, and wanting some heat, Adrien snapped his fingers and lit a flame to dance over his open palm. The sight of it startled the boy still in the bed, but it also seemed to convince him on some point, as he readily rolled out of the cot and pulled on jacket and boots. Julian led him over, standing close to his friend although not quite touching. “This is MacMallin, Master.”
“A pleasure, MacMallin,” Adrien greeted politely, taking the boy’s measure. He looked Adrien right in the eye—again, a teenager with superior height to his own—dark, curly hair sticking out a little in interesting angles, lean frame, with a half-starved look to him. He seemed naturally stronger and more robust than Julian. With decent meals and a chance for proper rest, MacMallin would become a formidable figure. With that name, he had to be of Irish descent. “I’m Adrien Danvers, the sorcerer.”
“Yes sir, so Jules said. He really has magic in him?” MacMallin didn’t sound doubting, more flabbergasted.
“We’re all surprised on that point, me more than anyone, as he should have been found as a child and taken in. Believe me, I’ll investigate as to why he’s here instead. For now, gentlemen, I’m very tired and want to be home. Gather up whatever belongings you wish to take along with you and then let us leave this place.”
He expected questions at the very least, but received nothing of the kind. They returned to the bed briefly—the same bed, and wasn’t that interesting? They pulled out a few things from under the mattress and squirreled them into pockets, then returned quietly to him.
“Very good. Come, then.” Adrien led the way back down, extinguishing the flame as soon as he reached the lit hallway on the second level. Thinking better of it, he turned back, drawing a sigil in the air for heat, then casting it against the nearest wall. It operated much like a furnace, glowing dimly, radiating heat toward the rest of the attic. It would only last four months at most, but it would be enough to see the poor blighters through the winter.
A perhaps senseless gesture on his part, especially with him so low on energy, but at least Adrien didn’t have people freezing to death on his conscience.
“Thank you, Master,” Julian whispered.
Flashing him a slightly embarrassed smile, he shrugged and headed back down the stairs. Of course he barely attained the landing when a large man with the mark of the owner appeared at the top of the stairs. He spied Adrien and rubbed his hands together, greeting him with an oily smile. “Greetings, sir. I’m afraid I’ve no open rooms at the moment, but surely I can offer you some fine beverage down below while you wait.”
Cursing his luck soundly, as Adrien hoped to spirit these two away, he instead resigned himself to emptying his wallet. “Are you the boss here?”
“I am, sir.”
“I wish to buy these two off of you.” Adrien waited for that to sink in, saw the calculating expression on the man’s face, and waylaid it as best he could. “I should warn you, I’ve already had to save Julian not a half hour past, as he was beaten by his last client and required emergency healing. So whatever outrageous price you just thought of, you can cut it in half, as without me the boy would have been dead by morning.”
The boss shot Julian a murderous look before remembering that he had a potential sale to make. “I see. Well, sir, I do appreciate the kindness, but—”
“I should also mention who you’re doing business with, I think.” Adrien didn’t normally pull this card but he was tired enough to not care about abusing his position a little. “I’m Adrien Danvers, Sorcerer.”
The boss went a little pale. “S-sir, you honor me at my business.”
“That is not my intent, I assure you,” Adrien responded dryly. “I require these two for the good of the magical community. Now, I understand that they owe you some sort of fee for this week? I will pay you that without comment, but not a pound more. Julian, how much is it?”
“Two pounds, Master,” Julian reported hesitantly.
Two pounds? That was a ridiculous sum for two teenage prostitutes to come up within the course of a week. No wonder they were so skinny, they literally couldn’t afford to eat. Fixing a glare on the boss, he pulled out his wallet and counted out two pounds. The man was cowed enough to meekly take it. “I trust that concludes our business here. Good night.”
“Good night, sir,” the boss muttered before slinking back to the main floor.
Adrien ignored him and led the way back down the stairs, thinking hard, then decided that he didn’t care to tramp all the way across town with these two in tow. He started the spell, weaving the directions and description of the portal that he needed as he descended the last of the stairs, then opened the door to reveal the front parlor to his own townhouse.
The boys let out a gasp behind him, which wrung a tired smile from his lips. “Don’t marvel at this, it’s a simple spell. Come along, in we go. I’ll put you both in the guest room for the night and we’ll sort matters out after we all get some proper sleep.” He closed the door and released the spell behind them, turning only to catch both of their eyes. “Now, listen to me, as I’ll only say this once. You are both my apprentices. Yes, MacMallin, even you, although not in magic. I’ll train you to something else. You are my apprentices, which makes you mine until you reach adulthood. You will not suffer under my hands, not in any sense, and if someone wrongs you report it to me immediately. I do not suffer fools, as you’ve seen.”
MacMallin eyed him shrewdly, a cynical expression on his face that no teenager should ever wear. “And what do you get from having us, sir?”
“A challenge,” Adrien drawled, amused at the question. “I can’t seem to resist those. Now, I’ll need to examine you and treat anything that needs healing, then it’s off to bed with the lot of us. We’ll discuss things more properly in the morning.”
Adrien never liked being in this part of town, dirty, criminal hotbed that it was. He stood three doors down from a seedy tavern, across the street from a gambling den, in the doorway of a brothel, and wondered just where he’d gone wrong in life to end up there at three o’clock in the morning. Worse yet, he’d lost the magical trail he’d been following that had led him down here in the first place, so he had no idea which way to turn.
Anyone that thought being a sorcerer was a glamorous occupation had bats in their belfry.
Disgusted with the whole situation in general, himself in particular, he decided to call it quits for the night. It had been half-curiosity anyway, it wasn’t like the trail he’d sensed had been connected to one of his paying cases, so he really didn’t need to pursue it any further. Time to return home, to the more respectable part of town, and tumble into his bed. He moved off the doorstep before he could get propositioned—again—and headed for the next corner. Did taxis even run at this time of night? Sod it, he’d find a half respectable doorway and--
A pained cry and grunt came from the alley near him. He turned toward it automatically, unable to ignore that sound of distress, and the sight that met his eyes made his blood boil over. In the refuse and stink of the alley lay a young person, he couldn’t tell from this angle whether it be male or female, with a larger, drunken brute kicking abusively at the torso.
“Halt!” Adrien barked, the hem of his coat flaring as he moved sharply toward the two. “Stop that this instant, before I curse you stupid.”
The man stopped kicking, his gait a little unsteady, and looked up to sneer at Adrien. “This is no businessh of yoursh. Move on.”
Despite the drunken slur, this was obviously a man of education, and the clothes he wore indicated that he was either a lord or a very wealthy merchant’s son. Adrien took in his state of semi-undress, then the young man lying on the dirty ground, who had his pants down to his thighs, and the obvious hit him.
This bastard had bought a male prostitute, and either in shame or anger, was taking out his frustrations on the poor child.
The anger he felt before went to another level entirely and Adrien let a curse fly off his tongue, the words roughly delivered. The man paled hearing them, staggering back, as the words for magic were unmistakable even to a novice’s ear. Even the boy on the ground looked stunned, staring up at Adrien wide-eyed.
“In case you’re wondering,” Adrien snarled at him, “I just cursed you to have postulant boils on your cock every time you get an erection for the next year. That is the very least of what you deserve for your abuse on this young man. If I catch you near a prostitute again, I’ll renew the curse for ten years. Now, get out of my sight, before I lose my temper completely.”
“Y-you can’t—” his protest died, as it was too late to deny it now, or argue against it. The curse was already laid. Pale faced, he grasped his clothes together and fled the alley, pushing past Adrien in the process, as the narrowness of the walls forced the contact.
Adrien let him pass, his concern now fully centered on the boy still lying on the cold stone. Kneeling, he requested, “Lay still, now, a little longer. Let me heal you.”
“Please sir,” the boy gasped in a threadbare whisper, “I can’t pay you for such treatment.”
“Nonsense, I don’t require it,” Adrien assured him gently. He stripped off his gloves, reaching out to touch the boy’s side with probing fingers. The first touch sent a spark straight through him, and he froze, staring in disbelief.
Oh hell.
This was the source of the trail earlier? This boy? He studied him more carefully in the very dim lighting available. Barely into his teens, thin as a rail, fair haired and perhaps good looking although it was hard to tell under the bruises forming. How the hell had this boy gotten so old without someone noticing his magical affinity?
Swearing internally, he bent back to the task of healing him, as either way, that needed to happen. Adrien’s magic flared into visible lines, overlaying the body in front of him, blazing in signals and numbers, reporting the damage. Three cracked ribs, a bruised lung, multiple bruises and lacerations on his torso, arms, and face. Was the bastard trying to kill him? The bruised lung alone was life threatening.
The boy shivered under the magic, or perhaps it was the coldness of the stone seeping into his skin. Then he shifted a hand, watching as his wounds closed up and disappeared, eyes wide with wonder. “That’s bloody amazing, sir.”
“It is,” Adrien responded lightly even as he debated the best course of action. He absolutely could not leave the boy here. “Give it another moment to fully heal your ribs, then we’ll get you off this nasty ground. I’m Adrien Danvers. Who might you be, lad?”
Those wide eyes went in danger of popping out of his head. “The sorcerer, Adrien Danvers?”
“Heard of me, have you?” This pleased Adrien a great deal as he’d only been in this business seven years and hadn’t always spent his time in England. It would help speed this conversation along.
“Sir, I doubt there’s a bloke in all of England that ain’t heard of you,” the boy stumbled out, still incredulous. “Whatcha doing out here, this time o’ morning?”
“As it turns out, looking for you.” Judging that the magic had done its job, he levered the boy carefully to his feet.
A little shame faced, he quickly pulled up his pants and redid the buttons, his head turned away from Adrien as he did so. Another shiver racked him from head to toe. “’s not possible, sir.”
“Very possible. Here, I’ll prove it. Hold out your hand.”
Very wary, but with no real reason to distrust him in that moment, he held out a hand. Adrien placed his hand flat on top, then lifted it quickly, leaving a magical flame behind. The boy yelped, jerking in shock, then stared incredulously as the flame continued to dance on his palm without going out or causing him injury.
“I would not have been able to leave a flame unless you, yourself, had the magic to support it,” Adrien informed him factually. “I came into this godforsaken area of the city because I sensed raw magical power, and followed the trail, but I lost it several minutes ago. Of course I did, it’s obvious now, your power shut down when you were injured. You, young man, are my business here.”
The boy stared at the dancing flame for the longest moment, doubting his own eyes and senses.
A little impatient, as Adrien felt exhaustion pulling at his very bones and still wanted his bed, he prodded, “Your name, lad?”
“Julian,” he whispered.
“Julian,” Adrien repeated thoughtfully. No last name? “I must ask you the obvious questions, I fear. Have you a master, parents?”
Shaking his head no, Julian steadfastly refused to look at him.
“I thought as much, otherwise I would not have found you here.” Adrien paused to really consider the matter. He absolutely could not leave this boy here, not with the sheer amount of power he possessed. Untrained, raw as it was, and still he sensed it eight blocks over? Simply inconceivable. The state of the laws as they were, Adrien sadly could not trust the boy to any other master’s care. Once they’d learned his former occupation, he’d be immediately sent to the goal for it. Adrien never thought to take on an apprentice, but the facts stood as they were, and he couldn’t in good conscience try and shuffle the responsibility to anyone else. “Well, you have a master now, if you’ll accept me.”
Julian’s head snapped up, staring nearly eye to eye with Adrien. Even as a teenager, he had more height than Adrien, which smarted a mite. “Sir. Y-you can’t mean….”
When he trailed off uncertainly, Adrien completed firmly, “That I’ll take you as an apprentice, yes, of course I will. You should have already had a master and it’s inexcusable to find one with your talent in this state. Now, will you accept me?”
His mouth opened and closed several times, body shaking. “Sir, I’d dearly loved to, but…”
Not understanding what would make him hesitate, Adrien pressed him. “What? Julian, if you don’t explain the problem, I can’t understand nor help you address it. What?”
“Sir, I have a brother here,” Julian finished in a rush, words nearly tripping over each other. “I can’t leave him behind, he won’t survive on his own.”
“Ah.” Adrien pondered the problem for a moment. “Is this a blood relative or a brother of your heart?”
Julian bit his lip uncertainly and failed to respond.
“The latter, huh.” He truly didn’t think he’d ever have two children to look after, but…well. He understood the importance of family. And what the loss of them entailed. He frankly wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. “It makes no difference to me, you understand, a brother is a brother no matter how you acquired him. I just asked for curiosity’s sake. Alright, if you refuse to go without him, then I’ll take him in as well.”
Julian froze, even breathing beyond him. He managed a croaked, “You will?”
“I’ll figure out what to do with him later. Maybe train him to be my valet? I’m in need of one.” Adrien dismissed the concern with a shrug, as he could ponder on the matter when his mind wasn’t mush. “For now, let’s go fetch your brother. I want to be in bed before the sun rises again.”
“Thank you.” Julian gave him a quick bow, clutching the flame to his chest with both hands. “Thank you so much.”
Loosening the coat around his shoulders, Adrien pulled it off and put it around Julian, as the boy was not sensibly dressed for this weather. “Let the flame go out, no need to hold it any longer. Good. Lead me to him quickly, then.”
Julian headed off at a quick pace, clutching the coat around him, a smile flickering on and off his face like a gaslight. He kept glancing back at Adrien, uncertain, then with renewed confidence. Adrien had the notion the boy thought he was passed out and dreaming this whole thing up. How often had he dreamed of being rescued out of this foul place?
They went down two streets and into a brothel that had definitely seen better days, judging from the peeling paint on the trim. Adrien’s nose wrinkled at the stench of beer, vomit and other things he didn’t want to identify. Hell’s bells, the boy worked here? Perhaps even lived here. Places like these treated human beings like cattle and he hated the very existence of them.
Julian went to a side door, slipping through the warped wood, then paused to whisper, “Master, I’m not sure how safe it’ll be for you to follow me up. I’ve payment due, see, and no money to offer the boss. Mac’s likely in the same state.”
“Tell me something, Julian.” Adrien unfortunately felt he knew the answer, and he could already feel his temper stirring, but forced himself to ask the question anyway. “That prick from before. Did he refuse payment, and you persisted, and that’s why he beat you?”
A little shame faced, Julian nodded. “More or less, Master.”
“I should have cursed him for ten years after all,” Adrien muttered to himself in disgust. “Alright, I understand the problem, and if that’s really the case then I absolutely can’t let you go in here alone. Lead the way, lad, I’ve got your back.”
That seemed a novel concept, an adult’s protection, as Julian seemed quite taken aback at the statement. Then his smile flicked on again, tentatively, and he finally led the way up the very narrow stairs. Adrien kept right at his heels despite his exhaustion. He’d already been up since dawn this morning, and this day had not been an easy one. He was nearing the time of being up for twenty-four hours straight, and likely would by the time he settled his two apprentices in at home. Would this day simply never end?
Ah, dammit, he’d have to at least examine them before he could let them rest, too. Even though he’d healed Julian, he’d not thought to check if the boy had caught anything from his clients, and with his brother working the same occupation…best to nip anything in the bud. It wouldn’t be without its costs, the potions he had on hand for that sort of business weren’t cheap, but if luck were with all of them, the boys would prove clear of infection.
With one more thing on his to-do list, Adrien felt even wearier than before. He’d definitely be sleeping in late tomorrow.
At the top of the stairs, Julian went left, passing several doors. From the sounds, each room was occupied in every sense of the word. They reached the back of the hallway, and Julian opened another door that revealed a second staircase, which he took up. This time, they went into a large, open space with a low ceiling. An attic made over into a dormitory of sorts? There was no heat source up here and he could literally see his breath. Adrien counted a dozen beds, most of them occupied. People actually slept up here in this frigid cold?
Julian went straight to one, laying his hand on the sleeping boy’s shoulder and shaking him urgently awake. The occupant sat up quickly, and a whispered conversation ensued for a moment before he looked sharply toward Adrien.
Not willing to stand about in the very dim interior, and wanting some heat, Adrien snapped his fingers and lit a flame to dance over his open palm. The sight of it startled the boy still in the bed, but it also seemed to convince him on some point, as he readily rolled out of the cot and pulled on jacket and boots. Julian led him over, standing close to his friend although not quite touching. “This is MacMallin, Master.”
“A pleasure, MacMallin,” Adrien greeted politely, taking the boy’s measure. He looked Adrien right in the eye—again, a teenager with superior height to his own—dark, curly hair sticking out a little in interesting angles, lean frame, with a half-starved look to him. He seemed naturally stronger and more robust than Julian. With decent meals and a chance for proper rest, MacMallin would become a formidable figure. With that name, he had to be of Irish descent. “I’m Adrien Danvers, the sorcerer.”
“Yes sir, so Jules said. He really has magic in him?” MacMallin didn’t sound doubting, more flabbergasted.
“We’re all surprised on that point, me more than anyone, as he should have been found as a child and taken in. Believe me, I’ll investigate as to why he’s here instead. For now, gentlemen, I’m very tired and want to be home. Gather up whatever belongings you wish to take along with you and then let us leave this place.”
He expected questions at the very least, but received nothing of the kind. They returned to the bed briefly—the same bed, and wasn’t that interesting? They pulled out a few things from under the mattress and squirreled them into pockets, then returned quietly to him.
“Very good. Come, then.” Adrien led the way back down, extinguishing the flame as soon as he reached the lit hallway on the second level. Thinking better of it, he turned back, drawing a sigil in the air for heat, then casting it against the nearest wall. It operated much like a furnace, glowing dimly, radiating heat toward the rest of the attic. It would only last four months at most, but it would be enough to see the poor blighters through the winter.
A perhaps senseless gesture on his part, especially with him so low on energy, but at least Adrien didn’t have people freezing to death on his conscience.
“Thank you, Master,” Julian whispered.
Flashing him a slightly embarrassed smile, he shrugged and headed back down the stairs. Of course he barely attained the landing when a large man with the mark of the owner appeared at the top of the stairs. He spied Adrien and rubbed his hands together, greeting him with an oily smile. “Greetings, sir. I’m afraid I’ve no open rooms at the moment, but surely I can offer you some fine beverage down below while you wait.”
Cursing his luck soundly, as Adrien hoped to spirit these two away, he instead resigned himself to emptying his wallet. “Are you the boss here?”
“I am, sir.”
“I wish to buy these two off of you.” Adrien waited for that to sink in, saw the calculating expression on the man’s face, and waylaid it as best he could. “I should warn you, I’ve already had to save Julian not a half hour past, as he was beaten by his last client and required emergency healing. So whatever outrageous price you just thought of, you can cut it in half, as without me the boy would have been dead by morning.”
The boss shot Julian a murderous look before remembering that he had a potential sale to make. “I see. Well, sir, I do appreciate the kindness, but—”
“I should also mention who you’re doing business with, I think.” Adrien didn’t normally pull this card but he was tired enough to not care about abusing his position a little. “I’m Adrien Danvers, Sorcerer.”
The boss went a little pale. “S-sir, you honor me at my business.”
“That is not my intent, I assure you,” Adrien responded dryly. “I require these two for the good of the magical community. Now, I understand that they owe you some sort of fee for this week? I will pay you that without comment, but not a pound more. Julian, how much is it?”
“Two pounds, Master,” Julian reported hesitantly.
Two pounds? That was a ridiculous sum for two teenage prostitutes to come up within the course of a week. No wonder they were so skinny, they literally couldn’t afford to eat. Fixing a glare on the boss, he pulled out his wallet and counted out two pounds. The man was cowed enough to meekly take it. “I trust that concludes our business here. Good night.”
“Good night, sir,” the boss muttered before slinking back to the main floor.
Adrien ignored him and led the way back down the stairs, thinking hard, then decided that he didn’t care to tramp all the way across town with these two in tow. He started the spell, weaving the directions and description of the portal that he needed as he descended the last of the stairs, then opened the door to reveal the front parlor to his own townhouse.
The boys let out a gasp behind him, which wrung a tired smile from his lips. “Don’t marvel at this, it’s a simple spell. Come along, in we go. I’ll put you both in the guest room for the night and we’ll sort matters out after we all get some proper sleep.” He closed the door and released the spell behind them, turning only to catch both of their eyes. “Now, listen to me, as I’ll only say this once. You are both my apprentices. Yes, MacMallin, even you, although not in magic. I’ll train you to something else. You are my apprentices, which makes you mine until you reach adulthood. You will not suffer under my hands, not in any sense, and if someone wrongs you report it to me immediately. I do not suffer fools, as you’ve seen.”
MacMallin eyed him shrewdly, a cynical expression on his face that no teenager should ever wear. “And what do you get from having us, sir?”
“A challenge,” Adrien drawled, amused at the question. “I can’t seem to resist those. Now, I’ll need to examine you and treat anything that needs healing, then it’s off to bed with the lot of us. We’ll discuss things more properly in the morning.”