Magic in the Air: The Prodigy and The Apprentice

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Unlike Book One, Book Two of Magic in the Air has not yet been fully edited. I hope that any errors or awkward phrasing that might remain don't dampen your enjoyment of the story.

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Dean eyed the others around the table. Each of them smiled back. So many mouths full of teeth, one or two of which were spotted with the sauce from the pies.

"How is the pasty, Dean? The venison's perhaps not as fresh as what you could find in Selene, but once I had heard it was your favourite, I knew it would be the best thing to welcome you with." The man winced at what Dean thought were his imaginings of Dean's rough entry into the city.

Dean mumbled as he nodded. Realizing how his response might have seemed, he swallowed his mouthful and turned to the man. The meat certainly was tougher than he was used to, and the seasoning in the gravy wasn't quite right, but the crust melted away with every bite. It was, in its own way, the best pasty he'd had in a long time. "Yes. It's quite good!" Dean lifted another piece of meat and crust speared on his fork and threw the lot into his mouth. The combination of savoury and creamy that resulted took Dean by surprise each time. He guessed that the guild probably had more access to milk. Much more than the bottle a week they had in Selene, at any rate. But he couldn't quite shut the wish for better seasoning from his mind. I guess milk travels pretty well, but herbs don't.

"You've got me to thank for that. Knowing that this would be your first meal after the crumbs thrown to you in your cell I wanted it to be something special." The man smiled at Dean for what felt like a lifetime. "Oh." His eyes fell. "But I must apologize for the texture. Our cooks aren't quite so familiar with countryside ingredients."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "If I was cooking it, it'd be a lot worse!"

The man smiled at this and then turned as a woman approached the table.

When Dean saw her he didn't hear the clatter of his spoon. Or the shuffle of bodies that turned toward the noise. All he noticed was someone as beautiful as Artemis' true form but truly and fully corporeal. Fire-red hair that hung just past her shoulders framed a face like a statue's. And though her eyes reminded Dean of the green of the grasses in the guild's yard that shocked him when he first arrived, when they turned to Martin and then to him, they had all the warmth of a family gathered around a fireplace. He spoke before he heard himself.

"Are you France—Ms Yates?"

The woman laughed. To Dean it was like the sound of wind chimes dancing in a spring breeze.

"This one's eager, huh Martin?" She sat in the chair Martin pulled out for her.

"I guess so. He hasn't said anything about Frances until now." The man turned his grin to Dean. "I suppose the reputation of some of our members precedes them. This, however, is young Eloise Lanafort. She is Frances' apprentice."

Dean felt as if every eye in the room was on him then. But he cleared his throat and looked to Eloise. He could feel his blush persist, but he went on. "Pleasure to meet you, Eloise."

The woman just smirked. She leaned on her table-lain elbow. "But of course."

Dean was sure that her grin grew wider the deeper his blush went.

"So what has Martin been telling you about us?"

Martin's smile began to fade as he looked around the room. The chairs around them were empty and he could see some of the people still in the hall whispering and looking over to their growing group.