Shadow Magic (Darkling Mage 1)

“Hey, Bastion,” I said, with little enthusiasm in my voice.

“So,” he said. “I hear you’re leaving.”

I hiked my backpack higher up on my shoulder and jerked my head at it. “What tipped you off?”

He was in his usual leather jacket, a pair of aviator sunglasses pushed into hair that had been deliberately mussed, to look effortless, or something. Still, my reflexive irritation didn’t begin bubbling up instantly at the sight of him. Something seemed different. His posture didn’t seem so rigid, not quite bent on picking a fight.

He gave me a wry smile. “You gonna miss us, aren’t you?”

I scoffed. “Not you. Don’t flatter yourself.” I grasped the straps of my backpack, then looked over the bannister at the endless swarms of paper, at the gleaming brass fixtures, the globes of enchanted firelight, the small army of workers going about their day as if their front door hadn’t recently been assaulted by a swarm of tentacled demons from beyond the stars. “This, though? Maybe. A little.”

Bastion chuckled. “Yeah. It’s a good place to be. Feels like you’re doing something right for the world, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said wistfully. Like being a hero, in some small way.

“You did good that night,” Bastion said. He made a cough. “And fine, you weren’t making shit up about your precious sword. Anyway. Whatever it was you did out there, it was – it was kind of awesome.”

I put on my smarmiest grin, then shrugged. “Hey. You just have to trust in Dustin.”

Bastion grimaced. “That was awful the first time you tried it, Graves. It’s terrible. You’re terrible.”

“It’s not, and I’m not. And awesome’s nice, but you saw what happened when I used the shadows. Damn well ripped my chest open. I don’t know if I should ever try that again.”

“You’ll learn,” he said, chucking me on the shoulder. What the hell was going on? Bastion being nice to me, just when I was leaving? Man. I wondered if we could have been friends. Maybe we were all along and I just didn’t want to admit it. “Well. Whatever it is you’re up to next.” He held out a hand. “Good luck.”

I smiled and reached for his hand. In one quick motion he withdrew it, then smoothed his hair back against his scalp.

“Psych,” he muttered, strutting away.

That’s more like it, I thought. Good old bad Bastion.

I said my goodbyes to anyone else I came across, most memorably Romira at reception, who either made a great show of being sorry to see me go, or genuinely had some sort of tiny crush on me.

“I’ll miss you lots, Dust,” she cooed, playing with her hair.

I grinned, then coughed nervously, hoping that was enough to convey that I’d miss her too, playful teasing and all. She waved one hand lazily in the direction of the front door, little wisps of fire trailing after every motion of her lacquered nails as she deactivated the traps. I smiled, tipped an invisible hat at her, and left.

It was a beautiful day out in Valero. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been stuck in my room at the Lorica just recovering, and the contrast of being locked in for so long was so much more glaring now that I was outdoors. The sun was out, as was a light breeze, making everything balmy, lazy. The streets weren’t packed, but the din of city life was oddly comforting, the voices of people talking to each other or into their cellphones, hip-hop and reggaeton spilling out of windows as cars drove by.

It was so good to be out, in fact, that I almost missed Prudence standing at the foot of HQ’s stairs, a funny sort of smile on her face. The wind shifted her hair, revealing that little secret patch of blue at her nape.

“You’re actually doing it,” she said. “You’re actually leaving.”

I put on a sterner face than usual, maybe to disguise how this was making me sadder than I’d expected. “Come on, now. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Her smile went a little brighter. “Then I won’t. But I’d be lying if I said we wouldn’t miss you, Dust.”

I might have blushed a little. I scratched the back of my neck. “I mean, it’s not like I’m moving away or anything.” How did I know that? I had no way of saying just yet. “We can meet up for coffee some time. Do lunch.”

“I’d like that. I’ll cut you a deal. You buy lunch, and I don’t bring Bastion.”

I laughed. “That honestly sounds like a bargain.”

“So. I hate to phrase it like this because it’s just so – ugh – corporate, but where are you going now?” She tilted her head, studying me. “What’s next for you?”

I tilted my head too, mirroring her, suddenly struck by exactly where I meant to go. I grinned.

“I have a few ideas.”