Of Feathers and Thorns

by Kit Vincent

in accordance with the magical law of the United States of America, I was to join the Magic Service immediately and become a magician’s apprentice.

The magician’s face soured at the suggestion. “My name is Esten,” he said tightly. “I am Master Hanska’s first apprentice.”

With that, he spun on his heel and strutted toward the exit, leaving me to scramble after him as the sheriff hissed “good riddance” at my back.

One magical accident was all it had taken to completely shatter the only existence I’d ever known.

Esten’s left eyebrow curved quizzically. “People? Yes, just three.”

After investigating four outbreaks, all we’ve been able to find out is that it’s a type of violent magic, but we still know nothing of its purpose or its origins.”

No Hanska fault. Esten a brat, a voice said to my left.

You look not as stupid when I watch you, the voice said from beside me. There was a purring quality to it.

Esten a brat and you not entirely stupid, but bad manners.

he had inexplicably developed a unique magical trait that allowed him to switch his gender and transform his physical body at will.

“Good to hear,” Probos said pleasantly. “I am quite hopeful that the two of you are getting along well.” In politician speak, this probably meant that Probos wanted me to actively befriend Kieren,

Esten—bad listener.

Humans. Never enough,

Esten bad listener. You sometime worse,

Was he nervous about teaching me? It seemed impossible for Esten to be nervous about anything, let alone me.

We call them feathered and thorned. Feathered magic is aimed at support, restoration, and creation, while thorned magic is used to break down matter.

It wasn’t like I’d risked my life battling great evil or even performing high-level magic. It was a simple loss of control doing something I’d been sure I had the knack of. One mistake could’ve ended me,

I found myself unable to take my eyes off him. Esten certainly knew how to make a statement.

Why? Were you scared?” Esten quirked a teasing eyebrow. “Of course not,” I said indignantly. But I was pretty sure he could see right through me.

For a brief moment, it was a confused kind of disbelief, but then his eyes lit up with sudden interest. “Well, you must be pretty . . . special,

I could not wrap my mind around the idea of the very proper and put-together Esten doing something this illegal, not to mention sullying his beautiful self with metal dust and soot.

You said all magic has consequences, and doesn’t it feel like we’re cheating a little by using a well?” Esten’s eyes widened briefly, and there was some strange emotion in their silver glimmer that I couldn’t immediately place.

“Can this be it? For once, your brutish and reckless display of magic was useful!” Esten declared, turning to face me. As always, he skillfully skirted the line between giving a backhanded compliment and outright berating me.

Esten’s words stung right in the soft spot under my rib cage. There was no thorned magic in them, but they felt like thorns anyway. Esten was justifiably upset, but did he honestly think that teaching me was a waste of his time?

“Do you mean everything has magic?” I asked. Yes, Oi purred. Everything. Everywhere. World without magic cannot be. Dead.

And the worst of it all was that I’d had the stupidity to be distracted by a boy, of all things. By his brutish magic, his silly country freckles, his homemade pies.

Spiht pressed his mouth into a stubborn line, but I saw the slight hesitation in his green eyes. Little seeds of guilt.

Something didn’t add up here, but I had no time to question Probos’s motives or look this gift horse in the mouth.

It seemed to be coming from the direction of the river, and there was something dangerous, something destructive and unnatural about it. It made the little hairs on my neck rise.

I killed that dog!” He burst out laughing. “Put his nosy nose right into the ground where he can’t go sticking it into other magicians’ business.”

“Master is dead,” was all he said before locking himself up in his room.

Yes, Oi said mournfully. However Oi knew, he sounded certain.

If only I’d heeded Oi’s advice—listen, ask the right questions—I might have noticed sooner that Master Hanska’s magic was already gone from the residence, that Master might have been dead even before I arrived.

Esten bad listener, Oi had said, but maybe I was no better.

“Magicians are not the only ones who can get their hearts broken, who can die, who have to make sacrifices.

Except Oi wasn’t a doll anymore, he was something . . . someone else. He opened his mouth, and—

“Well, I didn’t raise a mile-wide tornado,” Esten deadpanned. “Would have been nice to know you were capable of doing such a thing.”

“The clothes—they reflect the color of your magic, don’t they?” How had I not put two and two together until now? Every magician I’d met dressed in shades of one color, which was also the color I followed when I searched for their magic in the stream.

“That’s the point, Ginko—their constitutional rights. Those rights do not apply to us magicians, and they have no right to harass us outside of our place of government.”

Kavender narrowed his eyes as though dissecting me. I could swear the blood in my veins prickled. Feeling uncomfortable, I looked away.

Like they were uncomfortable with the idea of him causing it. Or like they were hiding something from us.”

I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it felt good that Esten had sought out my company, that he hadn’t chosen to be alone tonight.

Esten wasn’t just going to berate me this time. He was probably assembling all the thorned magic he could muster to obliterate me. Or at least that’s what I thought,

“Mmhaven’t,” he said. But his words slurred even more this time, betraying him. “I’m not . . . drunk, Kieren,” he repeated, trying to enunciate

“Trying to see my face in ’em, of course,” Esten replied without blinking. “Oh, heavens, you are drunk!” I said, mortified. This was so much worse than I’d thought.

But now . . . now ’s like the whole world is unraveling, and I don’t know who I’m supposed to trust.”

Endearing, I thought, feeling something warm take up residence in my chest.

Several different emotions flashed on Spiht’s face—rage, fear, and then determination.

My heart stuttered. My right hand was gone, leaving only a singed, black stump of a wrist in its place.

Magician Stag staggered to her feet beside the spot where Spiht’s body lay.