Page 6 of Joined By Magic

It all looked so shiny and new.

We strode at a brisk pace. Even before dawn, the street was busy with a mix of early risers in dull clothes like the ones we wore and partygoers stumbling home.

Unable to help myself, I gaped at the party girls until the prince shot a glare in my direction. Their short, tight-fitting outfits weren’t outrageous in themselves, but many had magical enhancements. Changing colors that flowed over the fabric were popular, as were dresses that moved unnaturally, their long skirts swirling around the wearers as they walked.

I glanced at the prince. “This place is amazing. Is the whole territory like this?”

He shook his head. “This is only a border town. The capital, Rydal, is far more impressive.”

A powerful longing awakened in my chest. I wanted to see it. Non-mages didn’t travel; even mages didn’t much. The concept of territories outside Atar had seemed ephemeral before. Something to fantasize about for a brief moment, then forget. And here I was, seeing everything with my own eyes.

For the first time since leaving the palace, I felt hope. A warm sensation driving away the dread. This was a normal street. What could I see if I went looking for fun?

At that, my excitement dimmed. It was still just a fantasy. Every minute we spent in the open magnified our chances of getting caught.

We reached a crossroads, and the prince checked the device strapped to his wrist for directions. We turned onto an even larger street, the center of the road dominated by two huge glowing rails set into the ground, flanked by thick plastic fences.

I shot to the fence and squinted as the flow of magic along the rails shifted and blurred, confusing my eyes. Multiple colors rippled and blended, giving the impression of great speed without visible movement.

The prince joined me, gazing down at the incredible sight. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this. I studied it for a month, twenty years ago, before my father insisted I return home. They’ve refined it since then, of course.”

Twenty years. I tried not to dwell on the difference in our ages. Did he think of it? Probably not. All the Collection girls were under thirty. Had he ever been with anyone older? I pushed the thought away.

“Did you want to recreate it? In Atar?”

He shook his head. “There wouldn’t be much point. We don’t have a lot of distance to cover. The principles involved have multiple applications, though.” He tore his gaze from the tracks. “We need to hurry. Our train leaves soon.”

He spoke in a low voice as we walked. “My father doesn’t have a good relationship with Principal Eranto. Her security services won’t be looking out for us, but he’s got spies everywhere.”

“Why don’t they have a good relationship?”

The prince shot me a scornful glance. “Think about it. She’s female, and she believes non-mages to be the equal of mages. How do you imagine she’d feel about Atar? They see us as barbarians, we see them as weak. It’s been that way for generations. One of the reasons my father wanted the guardian shield installed—to reduce cultural contamination.”

Alaria sounded better and better.

My thoughts cut off as we rounded a corner and the tracks terminated into a large building. Made from the same shiny black substance as the road, it stretched out, wide and single storied. The press of people was tighter here, men and women in working clothes streaming into the building. I moved closer to the prince.

Just two people boarding a train.

It felt as though we had a flashing sign over our heads. A target.

We moved with the flow of foot traffic and passed through a high-domed opening into the building itself. The crowd noise amplified, echoing back from the arched ceiling, and I had to once again resist the urge to stop and stare. The dark exterior gave way to cheerful luxury. Enormous chandeliers filled with bright lights that dripped down in iridescent streams hung above the crowd. We walked on clean white marble below giant boards that hung from the roof displaying times and places. Small alcoves lined one wall, each containing a stall selling food, reading material, or trinkets. And to the side, a glowing barrier separated us from the platform, where five trains stood ready for boarding.

My gaze fixed on a woman dressed in a skintight gold outfit that covered everything and nothing at once. She balanced on a small podium and twisted her body into amazing shapes while shooting wisps of magic from her fingers. She gave a bow, signaling the end of her performance. The crowd around her clapped and pressed notes into a bowl at her feet.

She was a mage. A mage dressed like that and performing like a commoner. In Atar, it would be unthinkable. Female mages lived quiet lives, only socializing in the company of their husbands.

The prince let out an angry exhalation and frowned at the glowing board. “Our train. It’s delayed. Get the tickets and we’ll go somewhere less exposed until it’s time to board. Two first-class tickets to Ghasul.”

He unzipped a compartment at the front of his bag and handed me a bundle of notes. Alarian galvars. I headed to the booth with the smallest queue while he moved back into the shadows. A middle-aged woman with short brown hair sat perched on a seat, chatting with her customers. When I reached her, she grinned at me, displaying crooked teeth.

“Where to, dear?”

I forced a smile. “Two first-class tickets to Ghasul, please.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Very nice. Are you headed there for work?”

“Yes. In the mine.” It was a mining town, right?

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