Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(7)

Plus, the festival meant fiestas, fiestas meant tequila, and tequila meant there would be plenty of people to pickpocket with ease. After the holiday ended, they would march onward to winter with its shortened days and longer, cooler nights. She’d make sure to hop on a ship to a warmer location well before then. Maybe the islands off the eastern coast? She’d never been there before. She’d heard their paella was too delicious to describe, and their seafood was so fresh that when you bit into the fried squid it sprayed you with ink.

At that, her stomach gave another loud protest. “Cállate,” she murmured, but it wouldn’t shut up. Maybe she’d made a mistake spending her pesos on a room at an inn instead of saving it for food.

Her stomach gnawing on itself, Finn passed a stand where a young man roasted skewers of adobo-spiced pork. He took in a deep breath and blew a steady stream of flame from his mouth to crisp the tender meat. Finn’s stomach roared. Her lips curled into a smirk.

Then again, it was always easier to improvise when it came to getting a quick meal than finding a safe place to sleep.

Finn slipped close to his side and tucked the moon blossom into the pocket of his shirt. He looked up at her, his brown cheeks reddening.

“Tonight’s a special night. You ought to look your best, don’t you think?” She winked.

“Oh,” he said, his mouth drawn into a perfect circle. “Th-thank you.” He looked down at the moon blossom as it tilted sideways, leaning away from him in search of moonlight.

When he looked up, two skewers were missing and the thief was nowhere to be found.





3


The Fox and the Dragon


As the palace and those within it drifted to sleep, Alfie’s shadow zoomed excitedly about his feet like a dog fresh from the bath.

That was the one disadvantage of having propio magic—your moving shadow betrayed your feelings. When Alfie dreaded something, his shadow slogged behind him, resistant and stubborn as a child woken early for lessons. When he was happy, it zipped about energetically. It even turned a pale gray when he was ill. Tonight, with his shadow surging about on the ground, Alfie’s thoughts were far from a good night’s rest.

He rose from his perch on the edge of his canopied bed and walked to the set of drawers, pulling open the lowest drawer and feeling about for the latch to the secret compartment. Within it, he found what he needed—a fox mask and a colorful doorknob of stained glass.

Alfie put the mask on, tying the silk string around the back of his head. It revealed nothing but his mouth and jaw. All players attending these games were to come masked. When it came to card games for illegal goods, anonymity was key.

Especially for a prince.

While he was away from home, searching high and low for the magic to rescue Dez, he’d heard tell of games where the stakes were high, but the winnings were higher still. Without a moment’s hesitation, he’d paid the steep entry fee and showed up wherever the black, gold-trimmed invitations instructed. The games took place in different cities and even once on a different continent. But Alfie never missed a single one, and he felt in his bones that tonight’s would be the most important game he’d ever partake in.

Tonight’s prizes weren’t just any illegal goods. They were books of forbidden magic that could help Alfie find Dez, alive and well and ready to take the throne. Dez was out there still, he knew it. Just because his brother had been swallowed by that eerie darkness didn’t mean he was gone. Alfie just needed the right magic to find him.

Anticipation thrilled through Alfie as he grabbed the leather satchel from his bed and pulled it onto his shoulder over his dark blue cloak. There was no time to waste. Rayan seldom let players in late. Alfie walked to the wall beside his bed and tossed the glass doorknob at the wall. It didn’t bounce off and fall to the ground as it should have. Instead, it spun like a dropped peso before settling and sinking into the stone.

Alfie stepped forward and gripped the doorknob under his palm. He let his magic change from its usual royal blue to a bright orange—the color that would take him where he needed to go. He need only turn the knob and say the word.

Each person’s propio was unique, some with one singular gift while others had propios that branched into multiple abilities over time. Alfie had heard of a noble from Englass whose propio was manipulating friction—with a single look he could make the ground beneath your feet as slippery as ice; likewise he could make himself frictionless and travel miles in moments. A girl he’d met in Uppskala could bend light to her will, plunging a room into darkness as easily as she could fill it with light. The abilities that Alfie’s propio granted him were all related to the color of magic. Alfie could see magic in all its hues, change the color of his own magic to match any shade, and use his ability to make pathways of color to travel by within the network of magic that lived around him.

Alfie turned his doorknob once to the left. “Voy,” he said.

The wall gave way to a multicolored tunnel that Alfie could see, thanks to his propio—the very network that stitched the world together. He’d been taught from a young age that magic was the foundation of this world, the threads that bound men to each other and to the land they lived on. With his propio Alfie could use those threads of magic to move from one place to another.

When he’d first discovered his ability, the vastness of the network of magic around him was startling, and he felt like a tiny paddleboat lost in an endless sea. He needed a way to make his ability feel smaller, more accessible. And so he’d come to use a doorknob as a way of focusing his propio and seeing his ability as opening doors in the vast expanse of magic that hummed with life around him. He could do it without the doorknob, but it felt less safe, like dashing down a steep staircase when you could walk instead, with your hand on the banister.