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  A sharp breath rushed out of her as her comrade smacked against a row of seats, tumbling awkwardly between them. If he was lucky, he’d only broken his arms and legs, though Verity could see he wasn’t moving.

  Vee was out of ammo, she knew, but the bigger problem was her. Her magical reserves had been depleted, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her adrenaline drained as exhaustion took her, the effect much like how it might feel if her bones turned to rubber. As a Class 4 mage she would’ve had at least a few more spells in her, but she was far from magical advancement, her head swimming. She curled up in a ball and tried to get her breath as she began to quiver, her blood turning to ice.

  I’m a fool, she thought, scrabbling at her hip pouch with one shaking hand. How could I forget? In the midst of battle, she hadn’t listened to her body and the magical energy coursing through her. She hadn’t noticed as her strength ebbed bit by bit with each spell she cast through her mag-rifle. Until it was gone, leaving her a dried-up husk.

  People were screaming as they were struck by more Jackal darts. Some of the sounds came from nearby, and Vee knew the pageant contestants—those Jin’s crew had been hired to protect—would be cut down like winter chaff under an unforgiving, icy wind.

  Her fingers found the catch on her pouch, but thrice she failed to swipe her fingerprint across the reader, her own security system thwarting her.

  Dammit! she tried to scream but all that emerged from her throat was a gasp of frustration. And then ziiip! the pouch opened, spilling its contents between her clumsy fingers. She felt along the stage until her hand closed around a single vial. Drinking the liquid—a substance known as aura—would eventually restore her reserves, but it would take time—time she didn’t have.

  Instead she brought the vial before her eyes and depressed the plunger on the end, filling the built-in needle with enough concentrated serum to get her back on her feet in less than a second. She ripped off the armor below the elbow on her opposite arm and was about to jam the needle directly into her skin when movement flashed on the corner of her vision.

  A Jackal—a female based on the sinuous curves of her scaled body—aimed her weapon, and said, “Die,” before firing.

  Weak and heavy, Vee tried to roll away, her movement like a slug mired in a bog. The dart bit into the base of her jaw, sending a bolt of agony through her. For most beings, the black liquid—pure aura—painted on the tip would shoot through her bloodstream, overcoming her central nervous system, its powerful energy too much for her heart to handle, scrambling her brainwaves, shutting down her inner systems one at a time.

  But she was one in a million. No, one in a hundred million. A human, yes, but a mage, her body genetically predisposed to processing magical energy, even in its purest form. She jolted upright, her vision clarifying, the world seeming to move in tiny increments of time that she could inspect from all angles, seeking the best solution to a problem that was no longer complex, but child’s play, as easy as stealing stardust candy from an infant.

  Her belt contained several additional clips for her mag-rifle, but her instincts told her she didn’t need them, which should’ve been madness. Not madness, she thought. Truth. She ignored her discarded weapon and traced the glyphs in the air before her, drawing from her base of fire, the path of her fingertip lighting up as it carved a series of graceful curves and ramrod straight lines to connect them. Fire. Burn. Torch. Ignite. Detonate. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Each spell was Class 1 but taken together they held the power of a much greater Class of spell.

  Purple flames burst from her fingertips and she strafed them across the air. The first Jackal was hit in the back, his body slumping as he was cored by the fire. Vee didn’t see him fall because she was already targeting the next foe. This one tried to dodge her attack, but her flames brushed the edge of his wing, which caught fire. Soon his entire body was engulfed, an unnatural scream gurgling from the back of his throat as he died.

  The last two Jackals had Jin and the remaining guard pinned down behind a large chunk of tritonium wall that had broken off during the previous explosion. The security guards were doing their best to avoid the maelstrom of darts being shot at them, but the Jackals were nimble, methodically herding them toward an area to the left where they would be exposed.

  Not on my watch, Vee thought, widening the path of her flames until it was a raging river of purple fire. The Jackals felt the heat and turned toward her, their long, narrow mouths opening wide in shock to reveal several rows of pin-like teeth.

  And then they were gone, incinerated by a burst of flame.

  Verity’s fingers stopped shooting fire. Her breaths came too quickly, her heart racing. She had the urge to run across the stage, to do pushups, to grab as many of the darts that littered the stage and surrounding area and stab them into her own skin.

  Instead, she screamed, fire pouring from her mouth as she released all that remained of the pure energy coursing through her.

  Depleted, she dropped to her knees and then to her chest, her face pressing against the stage, which was now coated with a thin layer of ash, almost like black snow, but warm instead of cold.

  Everything went fuzzy, and she could barely make out the numbers on her MAG/EXP meter as they cycled up and up and up…

  The last thing Vee saw was Minnow’s motionless body lying nearby, his power and strength taken from him by the Jackal’s dart.

  The world darkened to gray, then the absolute void of black.

  Chapter 2

  An old enemy

  The drone of machines and tireless beep beep beep of the life monitor drew Verity from a dreamless sleep.

  Her eyes flashed open and she tried to rise to her feet, but thick straps held her down. She strained against them, her muscles bulging, heat flooding her cheeks and forehead. The beeping sped up, keeping time with her racing heart.

  “Shhh,” a calm voice said, and a kindly face appeared. The man was bald and wore magni-specs, making his milky white eyes appear enormous, giant bulbs on each side of his face. He was a Threshan, based on the color of his orange wrinkled skin. The Threshans were natives to the Godstar system, a peaceful race who’d long been members of the Godstar Alliance. They were also known to be scientists and scholars. They studied everything from medicine to botany. It was their responsibility to maintain the Galactopedia, an extensive repository of knowledge available for free on the galactosphere.

  “Where am I?” Vee asked, her heart still racing. “What happened?” Something was buzzing in her skull and she had the urge to snap the leather straps and run laps around the room. What is wrong with me?

  “You were struck by one of the Jackal’s darts,” the man said, placing a gentle hand on her forehead and slowly easing her head back against the soft pillow.

  Oh. In an instant, the memories rushed back, like a living nightmare. From her time in the Academy, Vee knew that Jackals didn’t have the ability to use magic themselves, and yet their planet, Jarnum, was known for its plentiful reserves of aura in its purest form, an inky liquid substance that was a deadly poison to those without the ability to process it. In other words: 99.9999999% of humans and the other races that made up the Alliance.

  Including the Minots. Oh godstars. “Where is Minnow? Is he…”

  “Your friend is alive,” the Threshan said quickly. “Barely. He is stronger than most, and we managed to reach him in the nick of time. He required a full blood transfusion. He’s not out of the asteroid field yet, but the worst is past him.”

  Vee could hug this stranger whose name she didn’t even know. “Thank you, Doctor…”

  “In your language…Bob.”

  “Doctor Bob?”

  The man’s lips curled into a wrinkled smile beneath his magnified eyes. “It’s easier for humans to say than Doctor Grklrrfinelmrrkeeyut.” The name—if it could really be called a name—came out in a series of grunts and high-pitched yips.

  “I see your point.” The co
nstant beeping in Vee’s ear was distracting. She nodded toward the machine, which had a bright display with a series of spiked lines representing her rapid heartbeat. “Can you turn that thing down?”

  The doctor nodded and tapped the screen until the sound faded into a dull blip in the background. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Now about these restraints…”

  “For your own safety, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t understand. Why am I so…wired? I dispelled what was left of the pure energy.”

  “So I heard,” the doctor said, his voice taking on a hint of awe. He paused, seeming uncertain about his next question. “Have you ever been…mag-high?”

  “What? No! Of course not. I’m not some fool mag-head. Plus, I’m a mage. I’d have to go on one Hole of a bender to even get tipsy. I mean, maybe once me and Minnow had a few too many, but…” She trailed off. “Is that what this is? A mag-high?” She’d seen plenty of aura addicts—or mag-heads as they were known—before. It wasn’t like aura potions were hard to get. They weren’t cheap, but if one had the Vectors to spend, a few watered-down potions generally weren’t harmful.

  Dr. Bob nodded once more. “Your body was going into shock, so we injected you with more aura.”

  “You did what? Without my permission?” Hot anger rose up inside Vee and she felt the magic coursing through her, as if trying to find a way out. Her finger twitched as she tried to trace a glyph.

  “Won’t work,” the doctor said calmly. “This room is constructed of pure magium. It’ll suck the spells right out of the air before they can form.”

  Vee gritted her teeth. “I don’t believe you. That would cost a small fortune.” Again, she attempted a glyph, forming a pathetic-looking Break, which flared bright purple before vanishing. She tested the leather straps, grunting when they remained intact.

  “You are still on Maxion. The family spares no expense. This is one of several magium rooms available at this facility. I might not agree with their politics, but the pay is good. Lucky for you I was here. I’ve handled my share of aura addicts over the years.”

  Vee flinched at the label. “I’m not an addict,” she growled, slumping back once more.

  “Not intentionally. But your symptoms are the same. While you slept, you were going through withdrawal. That’s why I injected you with more aura. It will take several more doses to bring you all the way down, and you’ll never be able to live without the stuff, but—”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  The man frowned. “There’s no cure for what you’ve experienced. From this point on, you will crave aura every day for the rest of your life.”

  “I told you—I’m a mage. I have to use aura to do my job.”

  “And you can. But you must control your usage. If you cross the line again…”

  “I didn’t cross the line. I was shot.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t change the result. I’m sorry.”

  Vee sighed. This day was going from bad to worse. At least Minnow was alive. “When can I get out of here?”

  “Another day, maybe two.”

  The door to the magium room burst open amidst protests from someone on the outside. Two humans entered, flanking the doctor. “She’s going with us—now,” one of them said. The woman’s face was a series of severe features: high, bony cheekbones; a pointy nose; a mouth that naturally seemed to curl into a sneer. She wore galactic body armor, which hugged her dangerous curves like a hovertube on some mountainous planet. Her left breast bore the symbol of the Alliance, seven godstars of varying colors orbiting a fancy letter A. Just beneath that was the mark of a warrior mage, twin mag-rifles crossed, their barrels glowing bright red. At either hip was a holstered mag-pistol, her hands hovering just over the grips.

  “You,” Vee spat, unable to hide her loathing for this woman.

  “Me,” the woman said, her tone full of condescension.

  “Get out,” Vee said, though she knew it was an empty threat, considering she was bound to the bed. Still, her fingers twitched, longing to cast a dozen different deadly spells in the woman’s direction.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  The tension was palpable, and the man beside her, another Alliance soldier, looked uncomfortable. “We’ve been ordered to bring this woman in for questioning,” he said to the doctor.

  “She’s in no condition to travel, so unless you have an official order—”

  The woman drew a small paper-thin screen from the top of her chest plate and flung it at the doctor’s face. “Stand aside or I’ll turn you into a moongoblin.”

  Doctor Bob stood firm, catching the paper screen and changing the magnification on his oversized spectacles so he could read the directive, which Vee could already tell contained the official stamp of the Alliance. Still, she loved the kindly Threshan physician for being on her side.

  Not that it would help.

  The woman—whose name was Miranda Petros—stepped forward and physically removed the doctor from her path, shoving him hard into a bank of monitors. His magni-specs were knocked askew and his mouth flew open. He lost his balance—Threshans were never known for their coordination—and slumped to his backside, grunting slightly.

  When he tried to scramble to his feet, Miranda pressed an armored boot against his chest and drew one of her mag-pistols. “Move and die.”

  “It’s okay,” Vee said, feeling awful she’d unwittingly put the doctor in such a precarious position. “I can handle her.”

  Miranda turned back to face Vee, a crooked grin curling the edge of her lip. “Is that right? You mean like you handled me back at the Academy?”

  Like it had on that fateful day over four years distant, aura-fueled energy flared up inside Vee as she strained against the leather straps. This time, one of them snapped, cracking like a whip as it sprung away. The door was still ajar, breaking the plane of magium just enough to allow her magic to take effect before the metal sucked its energy away. “Arrr,” she said, trying to drag an arm free. “I’m going to—”

  Her threat was cut short when the other soldier stepped forward and jammed a needle into her throat.

  Once more, blackness took her.

  Chapter 3

  You’re no prisoner

  “Gorrlkshmmllkk,” Vee said, trying to pry her eyelids open. Her entire body felt sore, like she’d been punched by a thousand fists. She longed to lie down, but she’d been propped up in a sitting position on some sort of hard, unforgiving seat.

  “Is she speaking Threshan?” a voice said.

  “More like nonsense. The effects of the sleep draught will wear off in a few minutes.”

  Sleep draught. Mother of star travelers. “I’m going to kill you grllmrrnalkmikers.”

  A laugh that made her blood turn to ice. “She can even curse in Threshan. An interesting side-effect.”

  Her eyes shot open, stinging as bright light assaulted them. She slammed them shut just as fast, grunting. “Get that outta my face, you psychotic bit—”

  “Enough. We don’t have time for pointless threats and old vendettas. You don’t like me. I don’t like you. Let’s leave it at that. We have more important matters to attend to.”

  Slowly, Vee cracked her eyes open. The light had moved away, shining off to the side and casting a dull halo across the inside of what appeared to be a military transport vessel. Rows of seats lined the edges on either side, enough to carry several hundred soldiers. There was only one window. This was no sightseeing tour, but a military endeavor of some kind. Vee remembered training in something similar, preparing for a life of traveling between worlds and keeping the peace.

  A life that was stamped out because of this very woman. She managed to swallow the fire burning inside her. “What matters?”

  “An offer.”

  Those two words were the last she expected to come from Miranda’s mouth, but she managed to hide her surprise. “No.”

  “You haven’t even heard it yet.” The w
arrior mage frowned, her brow furrowing.

  Vee was about to fire off another retort when a pang of…something…shot through her. It doubled her over and she would’ve toppled from her perch if an invisible hand hadn’t been there to steady her. The feeling was a hollow one, like someone had taken a mag-blade and carved up her insides, removing them entirely. All she wanted—all she needed—was to fill the void. She gritted her teeth and looked at who had steadied her—Miranda—not with her hands, but with a burst of magic from the perfectly drawn glyph that now glowed before her. Wind. Miranda’s magical base was Air, and even this simple Class 1 spell seemed full of power and control as the wind buffeted her side, holding her upright. “Get your filthy magic off me.”

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed, considering. “As you wish.” The glyph vanished, the powerful wind dying with it, and Vee screamed as she struggled to pull herself back into sitting position. “You always were strong. Pity you couldn’t control that temper of yours.”

  “I. Want. To. Leave. Now.”

  “And you can,” Miranda said, once more surprising Vee. “You’re no prisoner.”

  Vee stared at the woman, trying to discern whether it was a bluff, but the air mage gave nothing away. The other two soldiers remained tight-lipped, watching the exchange with a mixture of discomfort and interest on their faces. Vee grabbed the armrests of the uncomfortable seat—a jumpseat, she thought—and shoved to her feet. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she managed not to fall.

  She glanced left, seeing a dozen or so other red-clad Alliance soldiers, all asleep, strapped into seats similar to hers. Most of the seats were empty, a waste of space. A portal door stood at the end of the space, a round window displaying an ocean of stars and one distant planet. Maxion. “You’re no prisoner,” she muttered under her breath. “Yeah, right.”

  “I meant what I said,” Miranda said. “You can get off at the next stop and we won’t bother you again.”