Free The Magician's Mistake (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 1) by Katherine Sparrow Page B

most intense glare at them as they ran away.
    “Dude, remind me not to ever get on your bad side,” Lila said. “And you don’t really have hellhounds, do you?”
    I sighed as I took out my key. “They keep coming. If only I could erase all traces of myself from the internet,” I said. Ever since I had saved hundreds of women from a ritual intent on destroying them, and inadvertently outed myself in the process, so-called witches who thought I was a tourist attraction kept finding me. One of the tricks to staying alive while immortal was keeping hidden. If these women could find me, who and what else might come looking for me? One of the many problems with a forgetting spell, was that I had no idea who my enemies might be.
    I opened the door and the spell that guarded it at the same time. I strode across the small store, filled with all kinds of useful goods for true witches. Lila flipped on the lights as I went behind the register. My hands automatically reached for my tarot deck and shuffled the cards a couple of times before choosing the day’s card that called out to me.
    I pulled the ace of cups: an ethereal hand holding an overflowing cup of water. It was a minor arcana card, which might signify getting a gift. A gift from Merlin, perhaps? I sighed. I was too old to fool myself into reading my own desires into the cards. The card meant what it meant, and soon enough the day’s secrets and truths would unfold.
    I put the cards away and pulled out my ledger from beneath the cash register, determined to get lost in the numb languages of numbers and forget about Merlin and my ridiculous witch-fans. The door opened.
    “If you are looking for spells to rot your genitals off, they are over there,” I said without looking up. I pointed toward my rack of dried herbs. The most powerful of them could make a protection spells for a house. “Otherwise, go away.”
    “I’m not here for spells,” a girl said. A second later her smell hit me: a hundred forest fires, raging.
    I looked up and closed my ledger. “Hello.”
    The girl was small and rail-thin. She looked hungry or addicted to the sort of drug that made one waste away. She wore ripped jeans, a ragged haircut, and a burn mark on one cheek.
    “And what are you here for?” I asked carefully.
    “I need your … help.” She spoke like it cost her something to admit that.
    “I can go buy you a sandwich, or some hum bow, or donuts,” Lila said. “Or we have coffee. And we keep a list of all the homeless shelters around here.”
    The girl and I watched each other.
    “I have a guess that’s not the kind of help this creature needs,” I said.
    “You know what I am?” she whispered.
    “Yes, dragon. I do.”
     
     
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Katherine Sparrow is the author of the ongoing series “The Fay Morgan Chronicles” as well as dozens of short stories that have been published widely. She’s been nominated for a Nebula Award and attended the Clarion West Writers Workshop.
    She got into the whole writing thing about fifteen years ago when she decided that she might as well do what she loves and feel passionate about, because if she didn't take herself seriously, who would? When she’s not writing, she’s chasing around two adorable and exasperating young children, enjoying Seattle's ample and lovely gloom, and dreaming about an immortal witch.
    To receive announcements about forthcoming books and other news, join her newsletter at: katherinesparrow.net/newsletter . And, if you liked this book, please consider writing a review wherever you bought it, mentioning it on social media, or recommending it to a friend. Thanks!