City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World) by Barbara J. Webb Read Free Book Online Page A

didn’t notice the man standing next to me until he spoke. “Tell me what brings a priest of Kaifail to this part of downtown.”
    That got my attention. I reached for my collar, but it was closed and in place. He couldn’t have seen my tattoo. “Not a priest anymore, friend.”
    He wasn’t a Jansynian. Human, but with skin that fair, he wasn’t from around here. He was dressed all in black, expensively tailored, but death in the afternoon sun. “You avoid my question.”
    “Not sure that it’s any of your business.”
    He smiled. Not charming, exactly, but something in it was trustworthy. “I am your friend, Joshua Drake. And I need to know.”
    Of course he was my friend. “We’re scoping out a safehouse for a client. Jansynians are hunting her.”
    “Are they?” He leaned in closer. I couldn’t look away from his deep blue eyes. “Have you seen these Jansynians? The ones who attacked your client?”
    “No,” I whispered, overwhelmed with disappointment I couldn’t help this man. I wanted so badly to be of use.  
    “Ash!” Iris’s voice.
    I blinked and looked around. Iris was next to me, frowning. I’d been…how long had I been waiting? “What did you find out?” The question came out brusquer than I meant as I tried to cover the fact I’d drifted off.
    “Who was that?” she asked, irritable again.
    “Who was what?” I looked around.  
    She took me by the shoulders, pointed me towards the other side of the street. “Him!”
    I still didn’t know what she was talking about. “Iris, you’re going to have to—”
    She pointed, and only then did I pick out the man staring back at us. Human, but dressed all in black and pale—he wasn’t from around here. Weird that I hadn’t noticed him before; it wasn’t like he blended with the crowd. “Who’s that?” she asked again.
    “How should I know?” Now I was getting irritated.
    “It looked like you were talking to him,” Iris said. “But, whatever. Let’s go. The faster we get this night over with, the better.”
    #
    As we headed out of the crowded downtown and into darker, less-travelled parts of the city, Iris shifted once more—this time, to an imposing, unkempt giantess. I envied the ease with which she did it, wishing I could learn the same trick.
    If you want to be technical about it, magic is magic—whether it’s Iris changing her shape or me doing what I do. The thing is, for Iris’s people, it’s something they’re born with—part of who they are. Drinion wasn’t just the god of magic—Drinion was magic. The very essence of change. And Iris’s people are Drinion’s children—or were, before it became dangerous to speak the names of the gods.  
    Kaifail stole the secrets of magic and passed them on to his children—us—but it’s not in our blood the way it is for the shifters. If I were to try to do what Iris does….
    Matter destroyed still wants to become energy, and if you don’t surround that act with the right controls and modifiers, you’re going to get one ugly mother of a bang.  
    That’s most of what those of us who have the aptitude for it learn in school. That’s where the rituals help—codified limitations you don’t have to hold in your mind. I couldn’t wrap my head around the complexities of what Iris did every time she made herself different; I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be able to do that purely by instinct.
    On the other hand, Iris couldn’t do my kind of magic either. She simply didn’t understand it. So it all balanced out. I guess. Except that her skills seemed a thousand times more practical and useful than mine.
    Iris led us into one of the rougher parts of downtown. My heartbeat pounded and it got harder to breathe. Streetworn toughs, human and otherwise, lurked in the shadows and watched us as we passed. Either they weren’t hungry for prey or Iris looked like more than they could handle. They left us alone. I kept a hand bundled in the fabric of my robe right