Wretched Mage (Wretched Mage #1)

CHAPTER 1

There were many ways I could fail today, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

In fairness, the train’s delay was not my fault. The faltering engine, or the Capital’s unreliable railway system, bore the blame entirely. Still, had I planned better, I wouldn’t be missing the first stirrings of merchant chatter.

Just yesterday, I’d believed that travelling this far from home would leave me more prepared, more certain. Instead, all I felt was restless.

Somewhere between the last hour and the end of my patience, my leg had begun to jitter against the cushioned seat.

“Can you not?” said the woman beside me, nodding at my leg.

The sound of her voice tugged me from my thoughts; it was the first time she had spoken, and my leg went still.

“Sorry, I’m late for something.”

“Unfortunate, but your fidgeting is giving me a headache.”

Her eyes stayed glued to the book in her lap, her tone threaded with a cool sort of disdain. I swallowed my retort and turned to the window instead.

Outside, Capital dwellers spilled down the escalators onto the crowded platform. Those heading our way scanned the information board, grimacing at what they found. I wondered what Dominik’s face would look like when I finally arrived.

By now, I had entertained several unhelpful thoughts.

One of them was that this might be a sign to turn back and concede that my father’s reservations had merit.

Reservations about the daughter he had raised in the countryside, travelling eleven hours to the country’s most populated city with next to no experience selling anything beyond books.

But I had seen him work and knew more of leather goods than most in Ehrfurt. And most importantly, turning back wasn’t an option.

“You’re an anxious one, aren’t you?” the woman observed, this time regarding me as though she could see the sweat gathering beneath my chequered coat. “What could you possibly be so late for?”

Only then did I notice my leg bouncing again. Heat gathered beneath my collar under her scrutiny, worsened by how effortlessly composed she looked beside me.

I remembered she’d boarded less than two hours ago, and likely showered shortly before that, judging by the fresh scent of bergamot and the flawless olive skin.

Her hair fell in languid waves just above her shoulders; a coal-coloured scarf with an odd sigil remained wrapped around her neck, her fitted jacket uncreased.

“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer—”

“Pretty ring,” she interrupted, drawing my hand into her grasp. “Where did you get it?”

I managed to pull my hand free, yet she continued to stare. The ring was not expensive, only sentimental, but there was something off-putting about her gaze.

“It’s a family heirloom,” I answered, flustered. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”

A hum. A nod.

“Where are you getting off again?” she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.

“Bickerton Cross.”

“Right,” she offered dryly, crossing her legs and returning to her book, “Your misery should end soon, then.”

Her interest seemed to stall there, to my relief, and I quickly glanced at her jacket before turning away.

The piece of clothing reminded me of the craftsman expected this morning—one of my father’s regular traders, who would deliver a sample of this season’s leather goods to my stall. Mostly belts and bags. A trade that should have begun fifteen minutes ago.

After what felt like an eternity, the engine roared to life. The train lurched forward, and I wasted no time weaving through the narrow aisle to where my luggage was stowed.

The travel board signalled that we were approaching the next stop, a shrill noise drowning out the conductor’s voice.

This was supposed to be one of the main stations in the Capital.

Father had warned me it would not be easy to navigate the first time, though busy enough that I could probably find someone to help.

He knew the station like the back of his hand after years of travelling here and had rambled over the smallest details to make sure I’d find my way.

Worry always made him talk more.

As I stepped into the terminal, the place felt emptier than I had expected.

Fewer people moved along the corridors, their footsteps echoing off the high ceilings.

Shops lined the halls, all shuttered and empty.

I passed corridor after corridor, each blending into the next, forcing myself to pick out the scattered exits.

This place dwarfed the station in Ehrfurt.

Surprisingly, none of the signs I looked for were where Father had said they would be. There was no coffee shop tucked by a side entrance, nor any sign pointing to the theatre house he claimed stood right in front of the building.

I cursed under my breath, fumbling through my purse for the map.

It should have been here, yet there was nothing and not a soul in sight as I took in my surroundings.

This was supposed to be a crowded platform, especially on a day like today, with seasoned merchants from all across the country heading to the massive event.

Unless I’m too far behind schedule.

I headed for the nearest doors, pushing through the metal frames, only to find a very different city than I had imagined.

An anxious weight settled in my gut.

Instead of busy streets filled with cars and rushing dwellers, a stone-paved path stretched before me, winding into a thick wall of pine trees and shadowy underbrush. The woods were thick with fog, darkened by swollen clouds blotting out the sunlight. More dreadful than I had noticed on the train.

Streetlamps stood like sentinels along the path, the bulbs unlit and lifeless. There was no movement.

As I glimpsed the horizon, my gaze snagged on smoke rising beyond the woods and the silhouette of a structure. It had to be the city’s centre, and this . . .

Probably just a park.

I started moving, dragging my luggage behind me as its wheels clattered too loudly over the dirt-filled stones.

Boarding another train would take longer than simply walking, and I could no longer bear sitting.

Crisp autumn air bit my skin, forcing me to blow a warm breath into my freezing hands.

I tugged my coat tighter around my neck, shielding the thin shirt beneath it from the cutting cold.

I wasn’t expecting to walk through a blasted park, if I could call it that.

At least my leather pants and ankle boots braced me well against the gust. My own hair was doing a decent job of covering my ears for now, but in this humidity, the copper strands were already darkening and springing into frizz.

More trees, more streetlights.

The deeper I went, the quieter it became.

Not a bird, not a scurrying animal, nothing but the dull crunch of dead leaves and the bumps of my luggage on the ground.

I took stock of my surroundings, the mist, the shadows, straining to see as far as I could beyond the greenery, yet hearing no whisper of traffic or another person.

A growing knot tightened in my stomach.

Pale shafts of sunlight struggled through the canopy, their warmth nearly gone. The Capital’s weather lived up to its reputation.

It wasn’t until a rustle shattered the suffocating silence beside me, followed by the snap of a twig, that I halted. This time, it wasn’t the wind.

My eyes darted around urgently, but I could see nothing that had caused the noise.

A prickling chill raised the hairs on my arm. My pulse spiked, the air suddenly too thin.

I went to take my next step, but caught a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. A low, angry growl rose from the trees. Then it came out of the bush.

Razor-sharp claws emerged from behind the twisted branches, scraping eerily slow against the earth.

A skeletal creature hunched on all fours, slightly larger than a hound, loomed only a few metres away.

Its body was covered in mottled grey fur, but patches lay bare, exposing hollowed recesses where . . . bones jutted through.

My breath caught in my throat.

Against the dense fog, its eyes, red and glowing, locked onto me.

I stumbled back, my heart thundering wildly, nearly choking me. My mouth went bone-dry.

Another growl rumbled from its maw, jagged teeth bared, as the creature advanced.

My legs trembled, numbed by fear and rendered useless. Yet if I ran, it would only give chase. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

The ground shook beneath me as a deafening sound sliced through the wind. Loud, feral. It sent me crashing to the ground, my luggage tumbling down beside me.

The monster whipped its head around, its maw letting out a pitiful cry, its body crouching as if ready to bolt. Before it could, a loud thud echoed through the woods, and a massive shape slammed into the creature.

Dark, oily blood gushed over the dirt as a second beast sank its teeth into the monster’s neck.

Enormous, its dusky fur cloaked a body built like a wolf but the size of a bear.

In swift, vicious motions, it tore the skeletal monster apart. The dying animal squirmed in protest, its shrieks echoing like a cry for help.

A whimper had lodged in my throat, my chest heaving. I dragged myself backward, hands scraping against the stones until I stood and bolted.

I veered between the trees, each heartbeat pounding harder as I raced toward the station. Fog curled around my vision, but I didn’t slow down. Couldn’t afford to slow down. I focused all my attention on the path before me, trying to step on cleared ground.

But the rumble vibrating at my back distracted me, and I stepped on a rock that sent me careening against a tree trunk. Pain erupted in my ankle, but I barely noticed it over the burst of crippling terror.

The bear-sized animal had followed me, its rows of sharp teeth flashing, and I knew—it was going to kill me next.

My throat tightened, and my feet instinctively dug into the earth, between the roots, pressing me hard against the tree. There was only a flash of fur before I curled into myself, tucking my head and arms so I wouldn’t look.