The Magician's Apprentice

By J.A. Jaken

Jander Teregnan has never wanted anything more than to become a mage—to serve his king and defend his country as he explores his natural talent at commanding the strange force known as magic. Of course every apprentice needs a master, which comes with its own set of challenges...especially when the master he's chosen for himself is none other than Andrei Teresh, personal advisor to the king and master mage of the city of Vallerin.

Andrei, however, has more pressing problems on his mind than dealing with the unsolicited advances of one untrained mage-apprentice. A fierce and merciless army of unknown intent is sweeping across the land, threatening the security of the kingdom he has sworn to protect. Even worse, dragons—long thought to have withdrawn from the world of mankind—are emerging once again and spreading chaos in their wake. Somehow, Jander must find a way to help; not only to prove that he can be of use in the defense of his kingdom and become a mage, but also to secure his place at the side of the man he hopes to claim as master both of his magic and his heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.A. Jaken
• Release date: Sep 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780986233036

J.A. Jaken

J.A. Jaken has been writing fictional stories and novels for more than ten years, most frequently in the fantasy and science fiction genres. She got her start in the profession writing slash fanfiction, where she has published numerous stories under the pen-name Rushlight. Over the years she has written short stories and novels in genres ranging from science fiction/fantasy to gothic horror to modern detective mysteries, most with at least a touch of m/m romance to them. She lives at home in the southwestern U.S. with her college-aged son, a cat, and the family Rottweiler. Outside of writing, her interests include studying foreign languages, practicing martial arts, riding horses, and collecting medieval weaponry.

Book preview

This book is a work of fiction which contains explicit erotic content; it is intended for mature readers. Do not read this if it’s not legal for you.

All the characters, locations and events herein are fictional. While elements of existing locations or historical characters or events may be used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental.

Contents

Disclaimer

1. Beginnings

2. Vallerin

3. Rejection

4. The Life of a City Pleasure Boy

5. Intrigue

6. Tutelage

7. Questing

8. Dragon Dawning

9. Coming Down

10 Waylaid

11. Home

12. The Child-King

13. Licking Wounds

14. Taken

15. Pursuit

16. Dragonfall

17. Meltdown

18. Escape

19. Vengeance

20. Confrontation

21. Fire and Light

22. Homing Instinct

23. Claiming

24. Council

25. Stratagem

26. Training

27. The Instigation of War

28. Dragon Mage

29. The Demon Inside

30. Into the Deep

31. End Game

32. The Price of Magic

Art Gallery

The Dragon Mage Chronicles

About the Author

Connect with J.A. Jaken

Other books by this author

Beginnings

Jander Teregnan blinked open weary eyes and stared blearily at the rafters in the ceiling above him.

It was dawn; the faintest pale glimmer of light clung to the walls of the stable, spilling in through gaps in the wooden planks of the walls. Straw poked at him when he shifted his weight, stretching out muscles cramped from sleeping on the hard ground. It was, however, dry and reasonably warm here, which was more than could be said about a number of the places he'd slept lately. The musky odor of horses, mingled with the sharp tang of leather and polish, assaulted his senses. He breathed it in deeply, musing over its sheer familiarity. He had been sleeping in a lot of places like this recently.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the distorted reflection at the side of a nearby feed bin and frowned at himself. He looked disarmingly young to his critical eye, with a lean and rangy build that never seemed to bulk up on muscle no matter how much physical labor he forced on it. His cinnamon brown hair fell into his eyes, badly in need of a trim. Unremarkable in every way, he had always believed, despite the assurances of his occasional lovers. His face had an easygoing look to it despite so many days of being on the road, its features delicately appointed except for the eyes, which to him had always seemed a bit too large and soft, and too prone to being lost in thought. It was one of many reasons he'd never fit in among the rough-edged seafolk in the village where he'd grown up. Their hearts were good, but they valued physical strength over grace and a quick wit, which had always put him at a disadvantage among them.

The pain was as fresh now as it had been when he'd first made the decision to leave his home. But he was never going to be a fisherman, and no matter how many times his father tried to beat the strangeness out of him, he was never going to be like the rest of them in any other way, either. His father had called him weak, called him a coward for abandoning his family and his village, and called him a great many other, more hurtful things besides. The memory stung even more now, if that were possible, like a festering wound that grew more bitter over time.

If that was true, then the memory of his mother's smile was the salve that soothed the wound. The way she had hugged him, and kissed his hair, and the way her face had looked when she told him good-bye on the hillside outside the village when he finally found the courage to leave. Don't listen to a word your father said to you, she told him fiercely, holding him close to her breast as if she would never let him go. He could still remember the scent of her hair, the comfort of it. You need to leave this village, Jander. You're braver than the lot of them combined. And you are going to accomplish great things with your life.

A light nudge against his hand broke into his reverie and drew his attention to the small, golden body nestled in the straw beside him, curled up against the curve of his waist. Round eyes like warm honey peered up at him when he shifted to meet the solemn gaze of his companion.

Good morning, Gabrielle, he said, running one finger under the curve of the miniature dragon's chin in greeting.

She blinked at him, once, then turned her attention away from him, a familiarly haughty gesture that made him smile indulgently. The golden kitling kneaded at his thigh with one delicately scaled hand, giving just the faintest hint of claw through the fabric of his leggings. The smile faded instantly from his face.

Jander's hand moved to the knife belted at his waist. Rolling over onto his stomach, he peered suspiciously through the half-lit gloom of the loft; he'd been traveling with Gabrielle long enough to know that it was never wise to discount her warnings. Now that he was looking for it, he could see the subtle lines of tension in the sinuous curve of her serpentine neck, the way she held her head in a position of ready watchfulness that mimicked the posture of her larger cousins. Golden scales flashed in an errant patch of sunlight with a dusky sheen as her muscles rippled. Her wings rustled in barely suppressed agitation.

There were sounds coming from the stall beneath him: muffled whimpers, a low, protracted scuffling, coupled with an angry muttering that raised the hairs along the back of Jander's neck. Cautiously, he belly-crept toward the nearest gap in the floor of the loft, wary of making a noise and drawing attention to himself. The end of his long journey had found him with only a handful of coppers to his name, and spending the night uninvited in a merchant's stable was far cheaper than paying for a night's stay in one of the local inns. It would, however, lead to unfortunate consequences if the legitimate owner happened to find him trespassing.

Gabrielle skimmed up his side in passing, using just the slightest touch of claw to find purchase in his heavy cloak. Her long tail wrapped twice around his neck as she settled her weight between his shoulder blades with the possessive grace of a cat. Jander ignored her, his attention focused on the floor in front of him.

There was a narrow slit between the loft's floorboards that was about half as wide as his palm, half concealed by clinging bits of straw. Brushing the straw aside carefully to make a gap he could see through, he pressed his eye to the small aperture and waited for his eyesight to adjust to the relative darkness of the stall below. He could feel Gabrielle's claws kneading into the back of his neck, a nervous gesture.

There were two men visible in the stall, which was only half-illuminated by the light of the newly-risen sun that sneaked in through irregular gaps in the wooden wall of the stable. Jander caught a glimpse of the distinctive blue cloak of the city guard, which seemed to belong to the larger of the two men. The smaller man writhed beneath him; Jander caught a glimpse of white silk and bright yellow hair, startling in the gloom of the stable. The youth appeared to be no more than nineteen or twenty years old, his face delicately handsome in a way that seemed almost luminous in the stall's dimness. A swiftly swelling red mark at the corner of his mouth gave evidence that he had not chosen to be in this position willingly.

Jander stared, not knowing what to do. As he watched, the bigger man pulled savagely on the hair at the back of his victim's head, drawing forth a startled yelp. Steel flashed in the light, warning off any further cries. A thick hand groped between their two bodies, and the youth pressed his lips together angrily, his eyes flashing. Those eyes were lined with kohl and uncommonly beautiful; Jander had little doubt as to the guard's intentions with his prize.

We've got to do something about this, Jander whispered to Gabrielle. She nuzzled her face into the back of his neck, but whether she was advocating caution or haste, he wasn't quite certain.

He backed carefully away from the slit in the floor and made his way to the edge of the loft, which extended over the central corridor of the stable where the feeding troughs were gathered. Gabrielle shifted forward to cling to his shoulder, her small claws pressed against the front of his chest, wings fanning slightly to help keep her balance. Jander reached up to pinch her jaws shut in a gesture for silence. Without daring to breathe, he grabbed hold of one of the rough-cut support beams that held up the ceiling and dropped down to the floor below, his boots making barely a whisper across the hay-strewn floor. Crouching low to avoid casting a telltale shadow, he crept to the door of the stall he'd been spying on and peered cautiously inside.

Their backs were to him, and now he could see flashes of pale flesh through the shadows that shrouded the enclosure, alternately concealed and then not by the spreading folds of that midnight blue cloak as the guard moved over his victim. Jander felt a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach, equal parts anger and revulsion. He had never been able to stand it when miscreants thought they could take what they wanted from those who were smaller and weaker than they were. Rape was a crime he found particularly loathsome; his fingers flexed around the worn hilt of his knife.

He was keenly aware of the broadsword that lay nestled in the straw to the side of the struggling pair; how was he supposed to battle such a well-armed and presumably well-trained opponent? He'd never been particularly adept at fighting. Raking a hand through his hair anxiously, he paused to consider his options. While he had nothing against the use of violence when the situation warranted it, his lean-boned frame was more suited to avoiding conflict rather than brawling. Despair rose in him at the thought of the confrontation ahead of him, but he suppressed it with an impatient shake of his head. Leaving the youth to his fate, while obviously the safest course, was not an option. He'd been raised with more of a conscience than that.

Glancing upward, Jander's attention was drawn to the swallows that flew in and out of the eaves overhead. The massive joining of supporting beams in the stable's ceiling was nearly rotted through by wind and weather, the pitch-coated roof sagging heavily to either side. It wouldn't take much at all to induce it to collapse completely. The beginnings of a plan began to take root in his mind.

Straightening, he took a tentative step forward into the stall. Neither man noticed his presence; he could hear low curses as the bigger man groaned his passion into the back of his victim's neck. Again that low flash of rage, of nausea, but Jander ignored it and moved closer still, angling away from the heavy sword that was winking in the light of the sun like an executioner's hatchet.

Sir, what are you doing? he asked, coloring his voice with just a touch of incredulity. He knew he looked deceptively young and guileless for someone of his experience; it was something that he had learned to take full advantage of over the years. Let his adversaries think him weak, or innocent, or both; it made surviving that much easier when he proved them wrong.

With a muttered oath, the soldier surged to his feet, hand moving to the hilt of his sword with an easy familiarity that sent a pang of dread into Jander's heart. He was a tall man, well-muscled, with a broad chest and massive shoulders, square-jawed face framed by a mane of ragged black hair. His eyes were dark and set low in his face, giving him a pointedly stupid expression that Jander knew instinctively was almost certainly false. The man's victim gasped where he lay on the floor, his pants pulled down around his knees, and crawled forward a few paces, trying to get away from his attacker.

Jander kept his expression bland. Is this how the law is kept in Vallerin? he asked, unable to suppress the low edge of disapproval that crept into his voice. Do the defenders of this city have a habit of making sport with its citizens? If so, I fear I may have come to the wrong place to find my fortune.

If the soldier suspected he was being intentionally goaded, he made no sign. Neither did he seem at all concerned with the fact that his pants were hanging open, revealing flashes of pale skin that could barely be glimpsed behind the dark swirl of his cloak. Jander kept his eyes pointedly on the man's face.

I'll agree that you've come to the wrong place, boy. His voice was low and menacing and full of barely subdued rage. Obviously, he didn't take kindly to having his sport interrupted.

Jander met his gaze evenly. Am I to assume that the city guard would not be pleased to find out you've been molesting the citizens they're sworn to protect?

Three swift steps and the guard was in front of him. Jander barely moved away in time, knowing that if he let this man touch him he was as good as dead. The man was glaring at him with open hatred now, the heat in his gaze sweltering, an unspoken threat of retribution for Jander's temerity. Jander wasted no time, reaching out with his senses for the weakness in the joined beams overhead, feeling the inherent fault in their structure, and wrapped the latent fingers of his mind around it. Then he just had to find the right focus for his thoughts, and hope that his power wouldn't fizzle out as it sometimes did in extreme situations, and just...

...pull...

A colossal groan overhead drew the soldier's eyes upward. Jander didn't wait; he felt Gabrielle hunch into the seam of his cloak an instant before he threw himself out of the stall, reaching for the half-naked young man who was still lying stunned on the floor with the same fingers of mind-energy that he'd used to upset the beam. Together, they spilled out of the room and hit the floor of the stable in a tangle of arms and legs.

Chaos erupted in the stall they had just vacated as the ceiling and loft collapsed, burying the soldier underneath a cascade of slate shingles and rotting wood. Dust billowed out through the doorway in an opaque cloud, filling the stable and choking the air from their lungs. Jander surged to his feet, drawing the youth with him, and helped him stumble out of the stable and into the pale, brassy light of the morning outside.

For a moment they just stood there together, leaning against the wall of the building and gasping for air. Jander wondered suddenly at the wisdom of attacking one of the city's guards, no matter what the provocation. Doubtless, he had just made an enemy for life. But it couldn't be helped; his gaze moved to the young man he had just rescued, feeling an odd sense of camaraderie with him.

The youth had refastened his pants and was staring back at Jander intently with his startlingly green eyes. A dozen emotions flickered through the turmoil of that expression—fear, incredulity, amazement, disbelief, exhilaration...and, underneath it all, an unmistakable flicker of mischief. Apparently he had enjoyed seeing his assailant buried beneath half of a stable roof.

Jander gave him a small smile and said, It won't take him too long to dig his way free from there.

Perhaps we should leave, then. The youth's voice was smooth and filled with wry humor, as if he hadn't just been brutally attacked by one of the city's guards. Whatever trauma he had felt during the attack wasn't readily apparent now. He looked remarkably young in the light that filtered down from the half-clouded sky, although he couldn't have been too many years younger than Jander himself. Come on. Without any further warning, he darted off across the field behind the stable with the agility of a rabbit, leaving Jander no choice but to follow or be left behind.

Vallerin

Jander followed. There was a subdued shiver of movement at his shoulder and then Gabrielle was pacing him overhead, translucent wings spread to catch the wind, her small body casting an arrow-shaped shadow that wavered teasingly on the ground in front of him as he ran.

They slipped into a stand of aspens about a hundred yards north of the field, and after a brief hike through their dappled shadows, the two young men emerged behind the baker's stall in the main bazaar. Jander looked around with wide eyes, stunned by the sudden transition from autumn wilderness to bustling center of commerce. His companion chuckled merrily at his reaction.

There are lots of ways to get where you need to go without using the main roads here in Vallerin, the youth said, regarding him with a lively flash of his green eyes. My name's Boaen.

Jander Teregnan, Jander said by way of introduction, unable to tear his eyes away from the bustling crowd. The bazaar was a vaguely circular area ringed on all sides by an almost impenetrable wall of stalls and businesses. He caught the scent of roasting meat, sweet pastries, the sharp tang of leather and oil and sweat. From somewhere distant, the steady ringing of a blacksmith's hammer undercut the murmuring voices of the crowd. It was just barely past dawn, and already the merchants of Vallerin were open for business.

You're new here, aren't you?

With an effort, Jander tore his gaze away from the crowd. Boaen was smiling at him. While there was an edge to his expression that Jander could not quite explain, he sensed no malice in the younger man's question. Is it that obvious?

Boaen laughed. Yes. Hunching down on the edge of an empty cart located conveniently close to the baker's stand, he tossed a coin to the merchant standing nearby and reached for one of the delectable fruit-filled pastries that were displayed so tantalizingly in front of the stall. Want some?

Jander realized that he was starving. He sat down next to Boaen and accepted his share of the pastry. Thanks.

"No problem. And thank you. You know, for back there."

Jander gazed at him curiously, savoring the taste of the sweet dessert. It had been ages since he'd been able to afford such a delicacy. You don't seem particularly broken up about it, he commented.

Boaen shrugged. These things happen.

For the first time, Jander took in his new friend's appearance. Big green eyes lined in kohl, silken blond curls that just touched the collar of his white silk shirt, shapely legs encased in clinging black trousers, polished knee-high black boots. Flash of silver at wrists and throat, embedded with pale blue stones. He was the very picture of youthful decadence, an incubus cloaked in wide-eyed innocence.

You're a.... Jander swallowed with difficulty.

A whore. Yes.

Jander flushed. I wasn't going to say that.

Why not? It's true. Boaen shrugged, totally unconcerned about the vulgarity of the description. The pay's good, and it earns me more respect than a lot of other professions in this city. He paused to lick the last remaining traces of icing off his fingers; Jander had to force himself not to stare. Everything about this young man screamed seduction, but Jander wasn't sure how much of it was intentional and how much just his inherent nature.

So tell me, Jander, Boaen said, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on his companion. Why have you come to Vallerin?

I'm looking for work, Jander replied evasively, holding out a small piece of pastry to where Gabrielle sat perched on a rafter of the stall in front of him. Her long neck snaked out, and the crumb was gone with the barest flicker of her tongue across his finger. She ate it delicately, eyes half-closing in pleasure at the unexpected treat.

I'd guess you're here to see the wizard.

Jander's eyes snapped up and found Boaen smirking at him with the faintest expression of amused innocence. Most people aren't too fond of magic, he said cautiously.

True. But most people haven't just had their asses saved by it. Literally or otherwise.

This young man was completely outside of anything in Jander's experience. Until a year previously, Jander's entire life had been lived inside the boundaries of a small fishing village by the edge of the Rage Sea. His people were simple, hardworking peasants who cherished their independence and self-fortitude above all else. It had been his rare talent for the strange power known as magic that had induced him to leave—that, and his peoples' mistrust of him for it—but even so, he found himself missing his home terribly at times. The world was far larger and stranger than he had ever believed possible, and he was beginning to learn that it took all kinds of people to populate a globe.

Here in the capital, the people were apparently stranger than most. Jander sighed. I've heard stories about Master Teresh wherever I've traveled. They say he's one of the best mage-born sorcerers in the world.

The best, Boaen corrected him. He's personal advisor to the king. I'll tell you one thing, Teregnan; when you set your sights on something, you have no qualms about aiming high.

I'm hoping he'll take me on as an apprentice and train me in the ways of magic. Jander's voice had gone soft, and his gaze slid to Gabrielle again, smiling faintly as he met her focused gaze. It was much easier to meet her eyes than to face Boaen's too-intent stare. Isn't that right, beauty? he murmured. She gave a low chirrup in acknowledgment and flicked her long tongue out to stroke her nose.

Most kitlings don't form these kinds of attachments, Boaen said, startling Jander with the change of subject. She's really beautiful.

Thanks. I've had her since she left the egg. He extended his index finger and rubbed it lightly against the side of her head; she leaned into his touch with a low croon of pleasure, eyes going to half-mast. We've been together for about four years now.

They say that people who have an affinity with kitlings will have an affinity with dragons. You know, since they all came from the same ancestors, once upon a time. Boaen's voice was thoughtful.

Jander laughed, the suddenness of the sound startling Gabrielle into drawing away from him sharply. He dropped his hand back down to his lap. No, I don't think so. I'll leave the dragons to the treasure-seekers and the historians. They don't have much to do with us anymore anyway.

Boaen was silent a moment. I've heard that there's one hoarded up in the mountains north of the city. One of the ancient ones. He reached out one hand toward Gabrielle, but she drew her head back with a low hiss and narrowed her eyes at him disdainfully. He pulled his hand back quickly.

Jander shook his head. Not our business, Boaen.

But haven't you ever dreamed of stumbling across a dragon's treasure? Gold, silver, jewels, riches beyond imagining. Magic....

Those are children's stories. No one really knows much about dragons. I'd think they have better things to do with their time than collect useless pieces of treasure.

Useless! Boaen appeared highly mortified at this pronouncement. He made an indulgent kind of tsk-tsk sound and gazed at Jander pityingly from under his dark lashes. Have you no ambition at all?

Jander ignored the teasing tone and answered truthfully. Yes. I want to become a mage.

Boaen gazed at him steadily for a long moment, and Jander couldn't help but think how truly beautiful his eyes were, how warm and deep and full of animal magnetism. Then Boaen glanced away, and the spell was broken. Have you got a place to sleep? he asked.

Yes, but I think I just collapsed the roof over half of it.

Boaen laughed, a happy, earnest sound that made him look even younger than he already did. I think I can solve that problem for you, my friend. Come with me.

With that, he was up and moving off into the crowd, leaving Jander to flounder for a moment as he scooped Gabrielle into his arms before taking off in pursuit. He had no intention of losing his only ally so far in this big and frightening city. And if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he liked Boaen. The youth was refreshingly forthright in a world that Jander found increasingly fraudulent and choked with deceit, at least lately, since he'd left the sheltering confines of his home.

They left the bazaar and made their way through the wide, paved streets of the city to a three-story building with painted eaves and a richly furnished front stoop. This was a classier neighborhood than some of the others Jander had passed through since he'd come to Vallerin, situated as it was close to the market district. A sign in front proudly proclaimed the building as the Candlelight Hotel. Jander recognized the red lantern hanging outside its door immediately, although the telltale crimson light was doused at this time of the morning.

There was a severe, dark-skinned woman bent over the flowers lining the front walkway, which was tiled with alternating light and dark pebbled stones. She looked up as they approached, her brows drawing together into an aggravated frown. Brushing the soil off her hands onto her long skirt, she rose and came toward them with forceful strides. Jander found himself shrinking back before he quite realized what he was doing and had to force himself to stand his ground.

Where have you been? The woman's dark-eyed glare was just a few degrees short of freezing, and it was directed with full-force on Boaen. She may not even have noticed that Jander was there. I've had Kameel out half the night looking for you. I was getting ready to notify the city guard.

No need, Boaen said with a wry twist of his sensual lips. One of them already found me. Succinctly, he explained how he had been abducted by one of the guards and finished up with a dramatic retelling of his rescue at Jander's hands. It was Brund, he said in closing. I don't think he appreciated you tossing him out last week, and he wanted to get even. His eyes flicked to Jander, and he smiled ingratiatingly. Brund has a habit of scarring the merchandise. Madam Urika doesn't take kindly to mishandling of her wares, and threw him out on his arrogant little ear. He took it rather badly, I heard.

Hmf. Urika reached out and grabbed Boaen's chin, turning his face from side to side as if inspecting damage done to one of her azaleas. You'll survive, she said shortly. Her gaze shifted to Jander. I suppose you'll be wanting some kind of reward now.

Jander opened his mouth to protest, but Boaen cut in smoothly with, "He did save my life, Mistress. Brund was rabid; I'm lucky to be alive."

Urika grunted again, her eyes sweeping up and down Jander's form appraisingly. You're new to Vallerin, ain't you, boy? I can offer you a job here, if you'd like.

Jander flushed scarlet at that, his gaze shifting to Boaen helplessly. Boaen's green eyes snapped with amusement.

I was thinking more along the lines of giving him a place to stay, Mistress. He's here to get apprenticed to the sorcerer.

Now Urika regarded Jander with a certain wariness. You a mage, boy?

No, Jander answered truthfully. Not yet.

That animal gonna be staying with you? Her scathing gaze took in the golden kitling in his arms.

Yes, ma'am. This was very firm.

Hmf. Her eyes narrowed, but she gestured absently at the building behind her. There's a spare bedroom on the second floor, towards the back. You know the one, Boaen. It was Carissa's before she had to be moved to the families' wing.

I know it well, Mistress. There was a glint in his eye that hinted at something more than casual knowledge. Come on, Jander.

Jander was completely unprepared for the elegance of the room that was being set aside for him. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, taking in the rich, dark wood of the walls and floor, the wide window overlooking the garden in back of the hotel, the shining brass fixtures and accents that gave the room a warm, homey air. The bed in the middle of the room was huge, adorned with a cascade of soft pillows and heavy, handmade blankets. He had never seen such luxury, never imagined he would be made a part of it. It was overwhelming, and completely unexpected.

Boaen was chuckling. Come on in, Teregnan. I promise I won't bite.

Jander obeyed. I've never seen anything like this. He hoped he didn't sound as plain and simple as he felt. He felt outclassed all of a sudden, too stocky, too clumsy next to this beautiful young man's lithesome grace. For the first time, he mourned his simple upbringing as he caught a glimpse of a world that was totally beyond his imaginings.

It's beautiful, isn't it? It comes with the territory. You should seriously think about taking Madam Urika up on her offer of a job. She doesn't hire just anybody, you know.

Jander flushed again, scowling. He was really tired of how transparent his emotions had become lately. I can't imagine why she'd want me.

Boaen looked at him oddly for a moment, but chose not to pursue the subject. So tell me. Why is it so important that you get to meet Teresh? You should be able to find a mage willing to train you in just about any roadside village. You really have to go after the personal advisor of the king?

Jander frowned. It's...complicated. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, leaning one shoulder against one of the bed's tall canopy posts. I've been on the road for almost a year now, looking for someone to help me learn how to use this power I have. It's not as easy as you'd think. There aren't any established schools for this sort of thing. A lot of the mages I've found already have apprentices, and the ones who don't, well...I just don't really seem to fit in anywhere. Images flashed across his mind of some of the encounters he'd had, some of the rough-edged and intimidatingly intellectual mages he'd come across. There hadn't been many. Some were courteous enough tell him that they weren't interested in taking him on as an apprentice and gave him recommendations to try mages in other regions, while others were more gruff in their rejections. One went so far as to test him to see if he had an aptitude for pyroaugmentation—the ability to manipulate fire—which she needed for a project she was working on, but when Jander proved hopelessly inept at the skill, she'd sent him hastily on his way.

What do you mean? There was honest concern in Boaen's eyes when he moved to sit on the corner of the bed beside him.

I don't know, really. This was ridiculously difficult to talk about. First he hadn't fit in at home, and even out here among what were presumably his own kind, he couldn't find a place to belong. It just has to be a good fit, I guess. It's a serious responsibility, taking on an apprentice. And none of the mages I've found...well, they all ended up sending me away. I don't seem to have any talents in the magic that are useful to anyone.

Bastards. Boaen's voice was bitter.

Jander's mouth twitched. Thanks. It's been frustrating. His smile faded. "Maybe I really am completely hopeless as a mage and I should just give up on the idea of