The Unseen Apprentice: The Unseen Chronicles, #2

By Stacie Hanson

Meg Thorne has discovered her place as a magician's apprentice in the magical Wheel Road. Too bad the city keeps trying to kill her.

 

Meg Thorne did the impossible and became the apprentice to Seberon Wilde, the magician who saved her life in The Unseen Road. She's returned to the Wheel Road to learn all there is about magic, abandoning her life in her own reality to become a magician.

 

But things aren't easy for Meg. She finds that not only does Seb not want her to be his apprentice but controlling her own emerging magical powers isn't easy. Even her odd alliance with the mysterious Raven Lord can't help her become a better magician. As Seb begins to reluctantly teach her, Meg realizes that she might have bitten off more than she can chew in becoming his apprentice.

 

Until that is, voices start to call to her. Voices that demand she use more and more magic. Voices that demand she become a magician before it is too late. But what could that mean for her life, her sanity? Meg is about to learn that magic comes at a heavy price and even the most innocent of spells can mean disaster. If she lives long enough, that is.  

 

A deep dive into the mysterious fantasy world of the Unseen, The Unseen Apprentice is a thrilling addition to The Unseen Chronicles, a fantastical series developed by fantasy author Stacie Hanson in the fish-out-of-water style of The Wizard of Oz. 

Join Meg Thorne as she begins her trials into becoming a magician and learn just what it takes to become someone truly magical by buying The Unseen Apprentice today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stacie Hanson
• Release date: Feb 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9780994927897

Stacie Hanson

There's little doubt in anyone's mind (anyone who knows her that is) that Stacie was to become a writer. A perpetual daydreamer who takes more pleasure in crafting worlds and characters than dreaming up bank reports, she spends her time writing fantasy and drinking tea. An avid equestrian, she also divides her time between moseying down the trail and finding places for inspiration for her books. She lives with her three cats and a dog, and her trusty laptop that lets her write as much as she can. She can be reached at her website www.stacieiscreative.com

Book preview

The Prequel:  A Twisted Faire

Book 1: The Unseen Road

Book 2: An Unseen Magician

Chapter 1:

Magical Thieves

The Wheel Road remained in a state of perpetual motion. It seemed to buzz with warmth in a way that most cities never did. Its charm lay in its misshapen appearance. Bridges laid over streets in high arches but served no purpose. Buildings tall and small stacked atop each other in haphazard ways that bordered on the unsafe. The alleys were tight and twisting. The air was rich with thousands of smells. You could always pinpoint one smell though. The smell of baking bread covered the ever-present odour of old books that seemed to be in the air. The chimneys smoked in gargantuan puffs, inhaled and belched outward. The puffs of smoke were white in colour and only formed the clouds overhead. Yet nothing hung in the air the way that smell did.

The city had charm but it was the sort of charm that you overlooked after spending too much time there. It didn’t take long for that charm to dissolve to a distaste for the people who lived there. After all, who would take notice of them living in such a misshapen city of brick and wood? The very few visitors went on their way in pleasant ignorance. They ignored their surroundings as they travelled from crossway to crossway. They used the city as their compass to get where they needed to go. The citizens were bitter about that slight.

If you were to ask the common observer what the Wheel Road was like, you’d often get a blank look, followed by a casual shrug, and an ‘Oh that place? It’s there, I suppose.’ Which is, in terms of cities, a suitable insult. One the Wheel Road felt on a personal level and so it kept changing itself. Only it never worked out so well. It was the reason why the alleys of the Wheel Road more resembled a poor maze rather than anything that made sense. Or so people thought.

Like all cities, Wheel Road had its good parts and its bad parts. The change between good and bad was so significant it was much like a line drawn straight down the middle. It was clear enough so that you couldn’t mistake the bad for the good or vice versa. That was how the Wheel Road tried so hard to present itself. Right was right, wrong was wrong.

Which was why, in the North Borough, two people having a debate about stealing caused distress to the buildings around them

So, just to cover this again, you want me to go in there and rob a jeweller of something called the Oberist Ring.

Not rob. Acquire with deception.

That’s the same thing as rob.

It is when you say it like that.

Hephie’s Jewellery was a hole in the wall, so to speak with a drab, craggy exterior. The tall thin man with shaggy dark hair and intense dark eyes did nothing to hide the fact that he was casing the store. Sometimes, the thin man would take a bite of an apple and chew. He ate and watched the steady stream of window-shoppers going by. He didn’t look at the young woman standing to his left and didn’t seem to care for her sullen expression.

He threw the apple core to a squirrel waiting on the sidewalk and leaned back against the window. As I recall, your oath has required you to obey orders, Meg.

I remember that part of that oath specified that so long as it didn’t break with the law, she answered without a hint of irony.

Well, the oath won’t bring you up on disciplinary action as fast as I could, Meg, her master responded. As he spoke, a tiny crystal ball rolled from his sleeve to his palm. It glowed amber-bright and Meg swallowed.

Oh well, that’s different, Seb. She waited for him to turn away and when he looked into the window, she stared at him. It was better not to let him know she was looking again. He’d think something absurd, like that she was thinking him handsome. In truth, Meg was trying to figure him out the way she had been trying for the better part of a month.

Seberon Wilde was a magician of the highest level but he tended to act at times like a petulant young man. On one hand, he knew renown as a magician, both feared and hated by both sides of dark and light. But he didn’t seem to take it very seriously. Meg had been only apprenticed to him for several weeks now after a few misadventures had left her a taste for magic. In those few weeks, she’d learned that his disregard for rules was no different than his love for trouble. He simply enjoyed breaking rules far more.

But this latest request? Maybe he had lost that tenuous grasp on reality she had always doubted he had.

Do I have to? Why can’t you go in? she tried and he turned to look at his new apprentice. Meg saw her reflection in his dark gaze and flinched a little when she saw his grin.

Because you, kit, have something I don’t, he started.

A sense of morality? she cut in sarcastically but he ignored that. He tended to ignore quite a lot about her it seemed.

A naivety that means you might be coerced into buying something you don’t need.

She thumped his arm hard. I am not naive!

Right. Who ended up caught up in Mr. Curry’s schemes?

Shut up.

You shouldn’t talk to your master like that, Seb warned and she snorted.

And you shouldn’t say that you’re my master as if I were some serving girl in the 1800s, Meg countered. She crossed her arms over her chest. I’m not going to do it.

We can do this the hard way, he muttered and held out his hand. She stared at it as if his fingers were going to bite her. He wiggled them. Come on.

What? Why?

Well, we can go in and pretend to be a married couple, he offered.

Meg made a face. I’d really rather not. Can’t we go in and ask about it? Why do you need to steal it? she asked.

Meg, we’ve had this conversation. I can’t go in first. This particular seller is unfortunately not a friend of mine, he said. But he does have something I need. So we need to trick him.

You know, Seb, in my world that would be seen as conning him, she pointed out. And besides, from what I’ve understood about you for the past few weeks, you don’t have many friends. Most you try to con at one time or another.

That’s a common misconception. He fixed his coat, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his watch. We’re running out of time.

Why exactly do you need an Oberist Ring? What does it do?

Nothing that will interest you. Much like what is beneath the Boroughs, this is on a ‘need to know’ basis. He tucked the watch back into his pocket and made a face. Are we doing this?

I can’t steal, Seb.

It’s easy. I should have had the ravens show you how.

Of course, he’d bring up the ravens. The ravens did tend to hang around his townhome these days. They followed her from window to window and about the streets. It had resulted in too much teasing from her supposed mentor for the past weeks. She had a feeling of being on the outside of some joke he was playing on her. Something only the ravens were privy to.

I’m going to go down the street, he said, pointing his long finger. And get a cup of tea. Fancy one?

No. Meg sighed and walked to the park bench, one of the thousands that seemed to dot about the Wheel Road, and sat down. I’m going to sit and absorb the fact that you want me to steal something.

It’ll get easier as it goes along, he said. Trust me.

Meg plunked down on the rickety wood and watched him walk away. Trusting you is going to get me into trouble, she called out after him.

Without turning his head he waved his hand at her. It’ll get easier, he repeated.

Blowing out a stream of air, Meg tucked her hands into her pockets and stared at the street. Getting used to the Unseen, to this strangeness, had been no easy feat. It was hard to tell time here when twilight seemed to hang heavy over the city. Bursts of sunlight or shrouds of darkness were shortcoming. She thought she was getting the hang of it though.

A man on stilts walked by, singing to himself as he lit lanterns. His bird mask was so massive on his head that he seemed barely able to keep his own balance. She had learned that magic lit the candles. There were still remnants in the Wheel Road that reminded Meg of an old Victorian novel. The Wheel Road, she’d learned from Seb, was a ring road but far more massive than she had ever seen in her life. It was nothing like a roundabout and everything like a wheel with spokes. Each spoke led to somewhere else, places Seb didn’t take her and despite her curiosity, Meg knew that here she was safe.

Or what passed for safe. For all she knew, the spiders that wove cobwebs above her attic bed were plotting her demise. Or that the alley cats who sat on her window and yowled reported her every movement to some nefarious hitman. It was all possible because she’d learned from Seb that nothing was what it seemed.

He himself wasn’t anything she had expected a teacher to be. He hid beneath that devil-may-care attitude. He was a relentless bulldozer of a personality who had made it very clear he often didn’t want her around. That if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed an apprentice to clean his things he would have turned her out in heartbeat. Or so he told her. The first four weeks of her ‘apprenticeship’ were miserable as they learned to deal with one another. Seb had piled task after task onto her: clean this, read that, cook that. Sometimes she had to copy that book and memorize lines of rules. Then she had to forget them because ‘rules were for old magic and old magic would get her in trouble’. It was enough to make her head spin most days, his attitude toward teaching her.

Today though had been different. She had thought they were making headway with one another. Seb had risen well after eleven, his usual habit, and in his grumpy way had told her to get dressed and come with him to a square called Holly’s Quay. She’d been so excited to get out, for the potential to learn, that she hadn’t even questioned it. Seb thought she was ridiculous with how she had tossed her toast to his dog Jack and scurried up to get changed in her worn old clothes. Meg didn’t care. She was getting out of that godawful townhome and its ever-changing rooms.

Now, the hint was clear from him. All she had to do was steal something and she might get better teachings. She thought it might be a joke if he’d been anyone else, but because it was Seb she knew he was dead serious. He wanted her to get that ring for whatever purpose he had in mind.

Meg leaned her head back and stared up at the metal trees that curved overhead. Seb had told her the trees were metal because of the forest nymphs found metal to be inescapable. You could never be sure if the tree you leaned against had been someone who’d been peeking at nymphs bathing. Alive trees were tricky to navigate. This way, the trees were at least less alive and less dangerous so close to the street. No seduction could happen that way.

If I do this, she said to a tree, then I’ll be knee-deep in all his schemes, I know it.

But if she didn’t do it, she knew she’d be stuck in the townhome until he thought of some new impossible task for her. And it might be far worse than before. She had come this far and she had the feeling there was some scheme afoot. Curiosity would be the death of her but damned if she didn’t want to see how this played out.

Yes, it did look like she was going to have to go in and steal some obscure piece of jewellery.

HEPHIE WAS A SQUAT little man with a nose three sizes too big for his face matched only by a chubby chin covered in bristly black hair. Tied in thick braids to either side of his ears was bushy black hair that sprung out at all ends. He more resembled a hairy teapot than any man she’d seen before. Whenever he walked, he let out puffs of smoke from the cigar locked within his lips and there was a suspicious creaking sound as he moved. Old-bone and cotton corset, Meg thought. She knew that sound only because she’d dug through an old closet in Seb’s home to find something to wear and found one.

What Seb was doing with a pile of old clothes, she didn’t want to know, and it was for the best that she didn’t know. He didn’t need to know she was going about snooping in his house. They had had discussions about that and both times it had ended with the subtle threat of ‘you could be living in the crawl space you know’. She could take the hint.

What can I do for you, young lady? Hephie asked. That massive nose of his wrinkled at the corners as he inhaled. It’s time for lunch. I can smell it.

I’m looking for something, she began. Something pretty.

Judging by the look on his face, that had sounded dumb. I only sell pretty things.

Well, this one was what my...my mother told me to buy.

That is different, Hephie muttered. Mothers do tend to be right. What is it? A Nymph ward? He snapped his beefy fingers together. I know! Something shiny to attract your lover’s eye and keep it.

What makes you think I need something like that? Meg asked, offended to her core. I wanted something called the...

Oh damn, she’d forgotten the name already.

Yes? he prompted and she bit into her lower lip as she stared at the glass case before her. Silver and gold winked back at her. Rings and bracelets decorated with gems and baubles of all sizes, all delicate things that any woman or man would have loved. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

She glanced left and saw Seb standing outside. Meg made an imploring face at him, trying to look helpless, and he frowned back at her.

Miss? Hephie prompted. What are you looking for?

Seb was mouthing something at her and she dragged her eyes away to see Hephie’s green cunning eyes flickering over her. He was suspicious. An Obist ring?

You mean an Oberist Ring, he sniped. How can you want one when you can’t even pronounce it?

Well, you know. Mother wasn’t specific, Meg said with what she hoped was the right amount of flippancy.

I suppose. He turned away from her to duck beneath his cupboards and Meg looked again at Seb. She cut her hand across her throat, gestured wildly at Hephie, but he only grinned and gave her the thumbs up.

Meg knew then that she’d have to kill him for this.

Hephie turned around and held in his hand a long container made out of thick dark wood. An Oberist Ring. Not exactly rare but I am discerning about who it goes to. He slid the lid back and Meg peered into it. It wasn’t exactly spectacular. It was a plain black ring curved around an even plainer silver one and attached by a chain to the box itself.

Why is it chained? she asked.

Well, we don’t want this running away, now do we? he pointed out.

Oh. Does it do that often?

You have no idea, he grunted. Rings like these are hard to capture. Very valuable. Dime a dozen in the Unseen, of course, but you can’t often find them in the Wheel Road these days.

How much? Meg asked.

He named an astronomical price in coin and she choked.

That is, of course, because magicians typically want it, he explained. Magicians I don’t like. He looked to his right and glared out the window before looking back at Meg. I trust he’s with you?

Sheepishly, she shrugged.

Then you can understand why I can’t sell it to you.

Wait, wait, she said. Tell me about it. He won’t. What does an Oberist ring do?

It sucks power. A vacuum as it were. If you were to take a black hole from the universe and drop it here, then it would form this ring and it would suck up the magic in the wearer.

Who would want that? Meg asked.

Those who want to keep others quiet. I’d bet he was going to slap it on your finger. So it’s best you don’t have it. He snapped the lid shut and Meg frowned. Something about that was ringing true. Seb had been very dodgy lately about actually teaching her anything. Sometimes she doubted she was even supposed to be apprenticed to a magician. He made it clear that he thought so too.

I can’t go out empty-handed, she whispered. Do you have a piece of wire or something cheap?

He snorted and tucked the box beneath the counter, locking it into place. But he did stand up and hold out a long piece of wire to Meg. His fingers twisted intricate knots in the wire before folding it up like a balloon artist. He turned it and turned it until it began to shrink. The ring produced was small enough to fit on her pinkie and he held it out to her.

No charge, he said as he slid it onto her finger. Tell your master I’ve no interest in dealing with him. Ever.

I’ll tell him, she agreed. Thank you for your help.

Such as it was, she thought, but she smiled at him and headed for the door. The wire on her pinkie was tight enough to remind her it was there. She had that sinking feeling she was going to disappoint Seb. She’d be back to dusting books again and the miserable prospect of inhaling more dust made her hang her head a little as she opened the door. Even the cheerful jingle of the door chime was depressing.

Seb sat on the park bench, arms spread out over the back of it. Meg held up her hands before her and shook her head. Don’t say it. You knew I couldn’t steal, didn’t you?

He frowned. Of course, kit, I knew that all along. You didn’t actually think I was expecting you to succeed, did you?

Her hands felt slack to her sides. Seriously? I went through all that for no reason?

Seb shrugged. Not exactly for no reason. He gestured for her to step closer and when she was close enough he took her hand in his and held her fingers up. Trick wire.

So? It’s too small for you, Meg pointed out and he grinned.

Trick wire is cheap and easy. It is why he had so much of it. Seb took it off her pinkie and rolled it about in his palm. Trick wire is also excellent as it always can be used to pluck the locks of its home because it always wants to go home.

She stared at him, feeling stupid. He tossed it back to her and she held it up to spin it about a little in her own hand. The wire now felt...furry, like the softness of a rabbit, and yet it looked smooth enough. She twirled it between her fingers and Meg could have sworn she saw it ripple, the way a caterpillar might as it was moving along.

Ah, this... she started and she looked up to see Seb once again looking smug. It’s a bug.

No, it isn’t, it’s a trick wire. Don’t be so fanciful.

It feels like it’s a bug, Meg muttered and she bent the wire. Seb snatched it from her and tucked it into his worn old coat, right along with everything else he seemed to store in his pockets.

It’s useful. If I chose to go back to that store to discover what it is Hephie is doing with such a stock of Oberist rings, well then the trick wire is great to have, wouldn’t it?

Is that what you’re planning on doing? Meg asked and she caught him grinning again. Oh, that grin made her nervous. It reminded her of the way a cat might grin if cats could grin.

Nothing for you to worry that pretty head about, he said. It’s all going to be okay.

You say it like that and it doesn’t give me any confidence whatsoever.

He made a face and leaned forward on the bench a bit. Don’t you have some shelves to be dusting? he asked. Meg grumbled to herself and buttoned her coat up. The action made him scowl a bit. Don’t you have nicer things? You look shabby.

I came here with only the clothes on my back, she reminded him. He snorted, rolling his eyes skyward as if he was praying for help.

Fine. I’ll think of something. Get home. I’ll be back shortly and we’ll resume our lessons for the day.

What lesson is it this time? she asked. Whether dusting vertically is better than horizontally?

Don’t get sassy, he said. We both know horizontal is always more fun. Meg stared at him as he fixed his collar. What? Did I say something?

Ugh, never mind. Just...I want to do more than reading old books and dusting your place. I came here to apprentice to you, Seb. Not be a glorified housekeeper.

You’re not a very good one either, he said before huffing and running his hand through his hair. Look, this is as new to me as it is to you. I have to be sure.

Of what? My intentions? she demanded and he shrugged. Come on, I gave up my world for this one.

You could have done it for wrong reasons, Seb pointed out. Wouldn’t be the first time. We’ve all seen apprentices for the wrong reasons.

So you’re going to make me wait, aren’t you? she asked.

Of course.

What if I go and ask Clara what I should be learning? Meg knew he was nervous around Clara though she had never learned why the elderly woman intimidated him.

We don’t need to be doing that, he said very quickly. How about this? You show me you memorized the rules finally and I’ll teach you something new.

She opened her mouth to recite them when he held up his hand. At home. I have things to do. Go feed Jack and make sure tea is on. I’ll be right along.

What are you going to do? Meg asked, squinting up at him as he turned about to look at the store.

Me? Going to go have a look around back. Run along. You don’t need to get involved.

Meg sighed but she knew that there was nothing she could do. Just remember, if you get caught? I don’t have money to bail you out and I think you wouldn’t like a prison very much.

He glared at her. I’ll manage well enough.

Meg waved her hand at him. Nevermind, I’m going, I’m going.

It was better than dealing with a magician who acted like a child most days.

Chapter 2:

The Pookas

Since coming to Wheel Road Meg had picked up the habit of talking to herself to make sense of the world around her. No one had ever discouraged the habit, not that she had many people to talk to around here. It wasn’t that Seb kept her from meeting people. He brought over many in order for her to discover different races and cultures, though the meetings were informal at best. She didn’t pay much attention to his intentions.

Sidhe folk, giants, avatars and creatures of all sorts, it didn’t matter. Seb knew them all. And for some suspicious reason, all of them seemed to owe him favours. Favours he had no such trouble calling up. They didn’t like it. She had the distinct impression they didn’t like him most days. Meg had the good sense to realize it was partly out of fear and respect.

Ever since that day outside the Market, Meg had wondered what it was about him that made people fear him so much. But most days Seb was an affable mess of a man who didn’t seem to know what day it was or what he even had had for breakfast. Nothing very intimidating.

Though sometimes she caught him looking far more serious, far more intense, than any sort of happy go lucky sort would have looked. She wondered....

But he wasn’t the greatest of company either. She’d learned that in the deafening quiet of the townhome it was sometimes best to make her own voice heard. She read to herself aloud. She fed Jack and talked to herself as much as she talked to him. She gardened and talked to herself. She tried to sort out what she thought were spells and talked to herself.

Frankly, Meg was getting sick of her own voice.

If only I could learn something. Something that made this all worthwhile, she said as she headed down the back alley that ran parallel to the shops. She kicked a can out of her way. Then I would be happier. But no. He’s got something in mind that doesn’t involve me.

She thumped the can with her toe. All of it is just ‘do this, Meg. Polish this. Dust that. Stay out of my way. Do what you’re told.’

The can bounced off the wall and she kicked it on the rebound.

I could have done that at home. I didn’t have to cross to another world just to dust. I could have moved back in with my mom.

Meg shouldered her coat closer about her chest and tried to ignore the chill in the air as she kicked the can back and forth. A soft cooing caught her ear and she glanced up to see a line of pigeons on the nearby fence. They darted back and forth on the rotted railing, beady black eyes fixed on her, and Meg made a face at them. She’d learned enough to know that pigeons meant trouble.

Shoo, she ordered, waving her hand at them. The pigeons flew into the air but landed at her feet, pecking at imaginary crumbs. Meg jerked her foot up and stamped it down. Go on, shoo!

There was no frightening the brave little birds and Meg sighed. They were blocking her from the exit to the street, the cloud of grey pigeons moving as one to keep her where she was. They were a large flock and Meg valued her feet too much to chance running through them. She’d already learned her lesson once when it came to disturbing the pigeons.

I should have brought Jack, she muttered. She turned away from the exit to head down the alley again, hoping to go around the birds. She had only gone so far when there was a loud whoop and the crash of metal cans. Meg spun about and came face to face with a young woman who sported a wild set of pigtails and a face painted white with pancake thickness. Her grin plastered too wide on her face. Meg yelped and leapt backwards into the arms of someone much