Sylvie Asleton and the Shrike's Curse, page 1
part #1 of Brookmoors Magi Series
Sylvie Asleton
and the Shrike's Curse
Brookmoors Magi
Book One
James T. Callum
Published by James T. Callum
2018
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Sylvie Asleton
and the Shrike's Curse
Brookmoors Magi
Book One
Third Edition. April, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 by James T. Callum.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
www.callumbooks.com
Written by James T. Callum.
Books in the Brookmoor Magi Series
(In Chronological Order)
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 1 ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Sylvie Asleton and the Shrike's Curse
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 1.5 ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Pyx's Tale: A Vow Delayed
(Newsletter Exclusive)
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 2 ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Sylvie Asleton and the Coven of Glass
CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Page
About
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Afterword
ABOUT
When a girl suffers from a magical affliction of misfortune and misery she must confront the impossible being made real and chase after the secrets of her past.
Orphaned by flames and haunted by malevolent shadows, Sylvie Asleton doesn't have it easy living in New York.
At least she kept out of the mental asylum by claiming magic isn't real.
When Sylvie's life is on the brink of disaster, a mysterious letter arrives in her apartment, inviting her to Brookmoors Academy of Sorcery and Invocation, offering to teach her magic.
But her chance to beat the esoteric trials and tests is slim, especially when few in the country ever pass. And those that fail lose their memories.
The odds are further stacked against Sylvie when something sinister and monstrous hunts her, a ghost out of the past that stops at nothing to prevent her from going to Brookmoors.
Learning magic is Sylvie's only hope to survive, but can she fight off the curse that locks her powers away and discover her heart's calling?
Dedication
To my beautiful wife, who has always believed in me. Even when I didn’t believe in myself.
To all my friends and family who have helped shape me over the years into the man I would become. I’m sorry I made you all wait so long for this.
And most importantly, you, the reader. None of this would be possible without your support. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Prologue
Extraplanar travel was hard. Few people could accomplish a Dive on their own. Bringing six other people with you was nearly impossible. Midarian could feel his sanity slipping. The edges of reality were fraying.
Keep it together.
The world snapped into focus long enough for Midarian bring them across. He felt stretched to the breaking point. He was familiar with that sensation. He’d been broken more times than he could count.
The lightless room ignited with golden candlelight. The seven Magi stood in a loose circle, hands clasped upon each other’s shoulders. In the other hand, each of them held a single Key except for Midarian. He had his on an electrum thread around his neck so that the Key rested on his chest.
The circle broke apart. The other Magi limped and helped one another to the various tables in the perfectly square room. Gathering the items that were waiting for each of them.
It was their bastion, completely cut off from all known paths of travel. You couldn’t get there unless you knew where it was already, and each of the members were bound through more complex magicks than Midarian knew that prevented them from divulging the location or bringing strangers there.
That was Kylie’s purview. She was a Binder, the magical equivalent of a lawyer juiced up on so much magic that the contracts she made were capable of altering the laws of physics in her favor.
Kylie turned and wrapped her arms around the ruggedly handsome man on Midarian’s left. A twinge of jealousy pulsed through him and he tamped it down with what remained of his willpower. They’d been together more than a decade, you’d think the pain would have subsided by now.
One by one the other Magi grabbed their tickets, silver-inscribed slips of gold foil. One-way passages to their own safe house. Nobody knew the other’s safe house, just in case tonight failed. The soft hush of air being displaced filled the room as each Magi vanished with their respective Key.
If all went well, they’d meet again in a month. Until then they were to go underground. Ismas had been dealt a fatal blow, without the Keys he’d be unable to open the Gates. That didn’t mean he was powerless. Of their old Coven, Ismas was the strongest by far.
They had planned a celebration here. Drinks and food were laid out on a large central round table, now left untouched. They’d taken heavy losses. Friends and family dead. There had been five Covens that had launched the assault against Ismas and his twisted followers.
They’d never heard from the others again.
The room tilted and swayed like a ship being tossed in the storm. A distant melody began to fill the room. He needed to sit. Next would be the golden rain. He needed to get a grip on himself.
The others started to talk, the noise washed over Midarian as he sank into one of the wooden seats. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kylie wriggle her fingers. Magical dust, Cinder, floated off her fingertips.
The Impeller Charm she cast caught him before his ass hit the hard wood. There was really nothing more comfortable than a magical cushion of air. It felt like he was floating.
He wished the others could see Cinder. Of all the gifts he’d received for profaning traditional magic and acquiring Alethiomancy, his Cindersight was his favorite. The motes of golden dust glittered and danced through the air on unseen currents before vanishing entirely.
There really was nothing quite like it.
Focusing on the Cinder helped to calm his weary body and tired mind. The music faded, and the room reoriented itself. Madness was a small price to pay for the power he’d gained.
Yeon sauntered over to him. She knelt, the fur of her collar was stained with dried blood but she looked like she just walked out of a photo shoot. She brushed the streak of white hair amid the pale red out of her face and looked at him with those bright lilac eyes.
“Thomas, are you okay?” Her voice was tender. Concerned. She’d been his favorite professor at Brookmoors, she had defined what that school was. He couldn’t imagine Brookmoors without her.
He gave her a slow nod. “Yep, everything’s copacetic.”
She turned her bright features towards him and gifted him with an enigmatic smile. “Good to hear. Will you say ‘hi’ to your niece and nephew for me? I expect they’ll get their letters soon.”
Midarian gave her a sharp look. “What makes-“
Yeon raised a hand to forestall him. “Please, Thomas. Don’t insult my intelligence. You and Richard have been inseparable since I first saw you two struggling with the Phoenix Gate mudra in the park. I know you.”
Midarian hung his head. Of them all, she was the only one who refused to call him Midarian. She still used his old name, he didn’t know why. “You can count on me.”
She patted his gloved hand. “Good boy.” She stood and spun about, the crimson and gold-edged cloak fluttered as she did and she said to them, “I’m off.” Yeon lifted her ticket up into the air and triggered it with a burst of Cinder.
She vanished with a rush of air.
It was just the four of them now.
Tall imperious, silver-haired Maleta with her vivid electric-blue eyes was hanging around Kylie like usual. She wouldn’t go unless Kylie said she could. Quite the obedient lapdog.
She eyed Midarian with mistrust. A golden strip of hair glinted in the light, stark against the moonlight silver that she kept plaited into a thick braid.
That was new.
Kylie gave her a soft nod and whispered something low into her ear. Quite the feat considering Kylie’s affectation of excessively large and floppy witch hats. This latest acquisition had raven feathers tied with silver string just above the brim. Her deep sorrowful blue eyes glanced towards Richard before glancing towards Midarian.
Maleta vanished, her withering gaze locked onto Midarian. No love lost there.
The last surviving members of the Coven of the Evenstar looked around the room one last time, its flat black stone walls etched with ruby-dusted sigils of protection, warding, and concealment among many others.
Richard
and Kylie stood off to the side talking in low tones to each other. Midarian let it wash over him. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back to rest. He knew the plan as well as they did.
Just in case Ismas could track the tickets, Kylie and Richard would hitch one last ride with Midarian. There was no way to track Diving. The Margins Midarian traveled through were a sea of roiling chaos and awash with so much power that most Magi were simply burnt out when they crossed over.
It took a very special kind of person to excel at Extraplanar Travel - Diving as it was called - somebody who was resolute in will and singular of purpose. Midarian was none of those things. But he was also rife with Madness and he could wrap it around himself and those he took with him at great cost, effectively making them invisible to the forces within the Margins.
“Midarian,” came Richard’s smooth tone. A jolt passed through Midarian and he sprang to his feet, startling his best friend. “Jeez! Are you all right?”
“Of course! Are you ready to go? Yeon wanted me to say hi to Sylvie, and I wanted to see how Gavin’s getting on with his new DND set of minis I got him for his birthday.”
Richard watched him with his deep brown-red eyes. He didn’t want to push Midarian. It had been Kylie’s fear that there was a flaw in her construction of the tickets. Ever since she became a mother she was far more worried and cautious than she had been before.
He didn’t blame her. Sylvie and Gavin meant the world to him too. He had never liked children very much, but Sylvie was almost like talking to a full grown adult. She was bright and delightful, her laughter filled their home and brought a smile to Midarian’s face.
Now Gavin, he took after Kylie when he’d first met her at Brookmoors all those years ago. Smart, but so mischievous that you could be forgiven for underestimating how much he really understood.
They were good kids.
“If you’re sure,” said Kylie. It had been her idea, but she saw the strain it put Midarian under. He’d never tell them the truth. One time while Diving he’d break, and the madness that he used like a cloak would become him.
He didn’t know when it’d happen, but he was certain it would one day. It was kind of exciting.
Midarian gave them a nod and motioned for them to come closer. They each placed one hand on a shoulder each.
“It’s been so long since Komachi’s seen you, Midarian. She’s been asking after you,” said Kylie with a grin. Her freckles sparkled in the low light.
He missed the hellion too.
With a tug Midarian pulled them through the Margins, wrapping them in a cloak of Stardust and Screams. The pain was immense. The closest thing that Midarian ever could think of that came close was crawling through a pit of razor blades made out of salt while it rained lemon juice.
It was something you simply could not get used to. Not ever. The Margins rolled around them, awash with Horrors and creatures that passed them by unwittingly. With any luck, his friends would never know.
The price was worth it.
Diving was typically used to travel between realms, but with enough experience you could walk the Margins and pop out in the same realm you left from. A few feet in the Margins could be a hundred miles, or five thousand depending on innumerable factors.
It was Midarian’s third greatest trick.
And as far as he knew, nobody else was crazy enough, or capable enough to do the same. It was dangerous. There were curious things in the dark between dimensions, like children at the zoo always pressing their noses against the glass. If those kids were extra-dimensional Horrors that have driven Lovecraft mad with just one glance. Traveling so close to the delineation between worlds was heavily discouraged.
So of course, Midarian had made it his specialty.
Owing to Midarian’s unique method of passage through the Margins, their time there was largely uneventful and they made an exit. The protections that had sealed up the Asleton residence prevented even Midarian from popping into the middle of their dining room.
They appeared across the street, staring at the row of sleepy brownstones that lined the New York street.
Kylie lurched forward and let loose a wordless scream that was swallowed by a rushing blast of fire that belched from their home. Without a moment’s hesitation all three of them rushed into the burning blaze. Midarian would do anything for the Asletons, and what parent wouldn’t rush into a fiery blaze to save their children?
The scene inside was total chaos.
“Upstairs!” yelled Richard, and Midarian was off taking the steps two at a time. Flames raged in the living room. Midarian rolled his fingers through the air turning the air around him into something cool and fresh with a hint of sea-salt.
The fires quenched and smoke vanished wherever Midarian went. When he found Sylvie in her room, he expected her to be hiding under her bed. What he found nearly stopped his heart.
Sylvie stood holding Komachi - she was just a pup, he hadn’t known she recently regenerated - protectively and fiercely standing her ground against a man wrapped in a cloak of shadow. Ismas.
Midarian launched into the room, blades of light flashed through the air towards Ismas’s back. “Not man enough to pick a fight with a real Magi, Dyran? You gotta pick on a kid to win?”
Ismas lifted a hand and the blades vanished. “She’s my goddaughter, Midarian. I would not hurt her unless it was absolutely necessary. Return what was mine and I will depart.” He turned to face Midarian standing in the doorway. “You can change the story, Midarian. Nobody else need suffer. I don’t want to do this. But I will if you force me.”
A blast of golden sparks, raw Cinder flowed from Sylvie’s tiny, outstretched hand. They caught Ismas in the back, burning away the shadow cloak and revealing the man he once thought he’d follow into the pits of Hell itself. How wrong he’d been.
Ismas stood before him, painfully beautiful as only one of his kind could. He had bright golden eyes and a thin face with a smile that could light up a room. You’d never knew the darkness that blackened his soul. Villains were supposed to be ugly, hideous as they were on the inside.
It wasn’t fair.
Ismas spun around, eyes wide. Atta girl Syl. You’ll be a proper Magi soon.
The otter pup in Sylvie’s arms chirped and cried out. Sylvie backed away and Midarian twisted the air around Ismas, boiling the moisture within it in an instant. The skin on Ismas’s face bubble and he grit his teeth but refused to scream out. The air warped between the two as Ismas dispelled the heat around him.
“We could have been FREE,” cried Ismas, thrusting his hands forward. A black Key dangled on a white chain around his neck, falling free from its resting place as he leaned into the spell. “Whatever happens is on your heads!”
Space unfolded around Midarian, banishing him into the Margins. He managed to anchor himself near where Ismas had sent him out. He hadn’t even known such a spell was possible. Black tendrils ensnared him almost immediately and dragged him into the depths of the bottomless dark, towards the Narrows where worse things yet lurked.
A bright flash of searing light burned away the tentacles with their blade-filled suckers. More would be coming any second. He pressed through the barrier and appeared in the dining room where Richard was busy fighting a ten foot tall creature of white-hot flame.
So that’s where Ismas’s pet was. No wonder Richard and - wait, where’s Kylie?
In the corner of the room was Kylie, bent over a small doll-sized body. Gavin. In between her soul-wrenching sobs, she cried out. “Midarian, behind!”
Twisting on his heels, Midarian raised a shield of Cinder. It rolled up and over him like a tide of glittering light. He felt the strain of manipulating raw Cinder and had to release the magic a second later. It was enough, a ripple spent itself upon the wall and vanished. Whatever spell had been sent at him would’ve killed him.
He could still feel the echoes of that spell, something dark and horrid. He laughed aloud and as the wall dropped saw his quarry in the smoky living room. Ilyara reached forward, readying another spell.
Raising a hand, shadows rolled out like black fire from Midarian’s feet. They chewed a blackened path through the house. Ilyara managed to dive out of the way, but not before the cursed flames touched the tip of her boot. Such a small thing, barely an inch had made contact with the spell.
