A Dangerous Mentor: A Threads of Magic Novella: Threads of Magic, #4

By K. A. Quinn

In a land where touch is banned, only telepathic interrogation can reveal the secrets of a corrupt church.

 

Years after the plague has been lifted from Albion, people live in fear of telepaths, wearing gloves at all times. Mere touch has become taboo, and the Church of the One True Way rules the land with an iron fist.

 

Using the new railroad, Jairden travels throughout Albion searching for evidence with which to blackmail the High Priests.

 

He adopts young telepath Alexandra, who apprentices with him as she grows, at first delivering messages and later, conducting interrogations, all the while oblivious to the purposes behind Jairden's threats and political connections. As she grows, she earns the dark truth about her past as well as the alarming extent of her mentor's psychic abilities.

 

The avaricious Church has gone to excess, exacting high tithes and charging exorbitant amounts for medical treatment. High Priests use the funds to live lives of wealth. But who is hiding among them?

 

Exposing the Church could mean torture or death for Alexandra, but is Jairden the bigger threat?

 

This alternate universe novella is a new take on telepathy, politics, and assassination in the world of post-plague Albion. Can be read as a fast-paced standalone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. A. Quinn
• Release date: Oct 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223921592

Book preview

Prologue

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The mindless routine of caring for an infant didn't allow Catryn room for fanciful thoughts, yet worry ate at her mind, creating a thin gauze that felt as if it belonged to someone else.

Alexandra curled her fingers around her mother's, and Catryn automatically withdrew the touch. No sense fostering bad habits.

As Alexandra grew older, it became harder to ignore the awkward questions. Catryn grew more thankful for their seclusion. She avoided discussing with her husband what was to come.

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Alexandra had forgotten her parents. The events that happened after blocked out the mundanity of her childhood. No, that wasn't exactly true. In dreams she could recall a dark-haired couple huddling over her, fear in their eyes, their faces foggy from faded memory. Think of it this way, the voice said. I’ll raise her as though she were my own.

As Jairden pulled her away from them, they sobbed, and she covered her ears at the noise. He carried the six-year-old outside into the night, the wind blowing up mountain snow like dust. He set her on the pavement and held her hand. As Alexandra looked up at her new mentor’s reassuring smile, her fear fell away.

Are my parents dead? Alexandra once asked Jairden.

His blue eyes briefly flickered with fondness as he looked on her. They were very nearly so when I took you from them, Alexandra. Of course, you weren’t aware of that.

They were sick? she said with panic. Was I sick too?

No, you were spared that fate. Fortunate for you, and very fortunate for me as well. He patted her curls before his eyes went sharp again and his face stiff, as if he were an animal protecting its young.

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From the moment Jairden touched her hand, Alexandra adored him. Perhaps it was the brazenness of the gesture in a society that only touched infants or— more privately— spouses. Perhaps it was the fleeting affection in his eyes, but she was captivated. She knew she'd follow him anywhere. She slipped her little fingers from his long ones with a blush and approached the train station.

It was the first locomotive Alexandra had ever seen, and she was about to ride it eastward on it toward the city of Levin. Growing up deep in the country by the edge of the forest, she hadn’t even known something could move so fast. The wooden cars stretched out like a maroon dragon as far as she could see, and the vast machine belched smoke and made alarming squeaks and grunts and clangs. Alexandra stood up straight like a good girl, but she was bouncing with excitement inside. Jairden patted her shoulder and walked up to the ticketer.

We don’t take infants, the man snarled. She pulled herself up to her full six-year-old height and scowled. She knew better than to speak. Alexandra stepped behind Jairden's cloak shyly.

Jairden unfurled his fingers toward him, a gesture that seemed threatening. Our terms are contingent upon it. You don’t want to displease me.

What’re you doing with a child anyway?

He narrowed his eyes. That is none of your concern.

Too young for an apprentice. You going to give her back?

Jairden drew up close to the stranger, his cloak brushing against the ticketer's short coat. He said something she couldn’t hear, but the stranger went jerked backward and gave Alexandra a forced smile.

Come on board then, he said, opening the passenger car door.

Jairden helped her up the first high step.

Your daughter? a friendly-looking servant asked as they passed into the carriage. Alexandra slipped shyly behind his cloak, hating the examination she kept receiving.

Jairden merely smiled.

She felt a crease of fabric pressed into her hand as Jairden murmured, Must keep up appearances. She trailed close behind, attached to the cloak like a younger child, while craning her neck to look around.

The car had dark green velvet curtains to block out the afternoon sun. A woman wearing a dress of the same material served crystal goblets of wine to wealthy-looking men. As she passed through, Alexandra didn’t see any other children.

The train lurched to a start, and a man in spectacles grabbed his glass to steady it. Jairden was careful not to stare at the man, so Alexandra did the same. His leather bag bumped against Alexandra's front, so she took a small step to the side but stayed close. They passed through the car into to a narrow hallway of doors. Jairden opened a door on the right, and they entered a room that contained little more than two stacked bunks. She chose the bottom one and hopped up on it.

Jairden spent a long time examining things while she looked out the little square window that peeked between the bunk levels. It lacked the same elaborate drapes as in the bigger areas, possessing only a yellowed shade, which she didn’t want to close. Jairden seemed satisfied and signaled that Alexandra could sleep if she wanted.

The train gave a lurch.

The girl wasn’t about to waste the experience. She tucked her knees under her legs and pressed her face to the glass so she could get a clearer view of outside. Green countryside flew by too fast to watch, but the trees on the horizon crawled past. Jairden watched her excitement for a moment before indicating that he had things to attend to.

He was gone a very long time. After twenty minutes, the passing landscape bored her and made her a little queasy, so she had to stop. She unbuttoned Jairden’s bag, looking for a treat of fruit or biscuits but only finding clothes. He didn’t even have toys or books. She was feeling a little frustrated but knew she should believe him. He’d be back soon.

He was. Jairden entered, carrying a large piece of cake on a china plate. It was rich and delicious, but she ate it neatly as he studied her manners. Evidently he was pleased, because he smiled and told Alexandra he needed her help.

Eager for excitement, she agreed.

Alexandra, I need you to give a piece of paper to the man with the spectacles in the dining car.

She hesitated, worried she'd make a mistake. What if she couldn’t find the car? What if there were more than one man who fit the description?

It’s a simple task. Give him the paper, wait until he reads it, and tell me his reply. Pay special attention to the way he acts. Notice if he looks confused or nervous.

She bit her lip before repeating his instructions, curious but too polite to ask more.

He handed her the note. Don’t tell him who gave it to you. Stand still and say nothing.

Alexandra thought that sort of disrespectful behavior would make the man angry, but she agreed. Jairden’s tone made the task sound important, and she wanted to please him.

She carried the folded piece of paper pressed to her chest into the dining car. She felt Jairden’s eyes on her and glanced back to see him standing in the little window at the end of the car. He nodded, and she walked with measured steps halfway down the car to the stranger’s table. The man’s gold spectacles sat on a round face flushed with several previous glasses of wine. He wore the long dark robes of a priest. He glanced up as she approached, befuddled by her appearance among the wealthy businessmen. Curious travelers watched her place the note next to his glass, careful to avoid brushing against him.

She clasped her hands behind her back and waited.

He unfolded the paper, began to read, his eyes moving methodically across