My Path to Magic 2: A Combat Alchemist by Irina Syromyatnikova Read Free Book Online Page A

reply?"
    "I sai d I did not want to be involved, I had enough trouble last time."
    "Good. Where did the call come from?"
    " We are working on that."
    Satal fiercely rubbed his face, trying to gather his thoughts. "No, I am too tired today.  We'll think about it tomorrow morning. Be very careful with this guy!"
    "I know. I worked with him for fifteen years, although we rarely saw each other. By the way, what position does he hold now?"
    "Funny , but no one knows it. As soon as I start asking this question, people poke and roll their eyes up. For fifteen years of distinguished service as a senior coordinator, he managed to let our business slide way down. And yet he resigned in a very timely manner."
    "I thought so, too," the captain admitted.
    "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Seriously. I have no idea what bothers Larkes. But I do know that artisans will not turn a blind eye to the loss of their financial adviser…"

Chapter 4
    All Monday morning I nurtured the idea of becoming a necromancer in order to raise my father from his grave and tell him what I thought of him. Why the hell did he leave his own clan?! If the Tangor family had my back, no one would have dared to talk to me in a raised voice; dark mages' clans value their reputation and do not care about justice.
    Of course, I could send my half-witted teachers to hell and forget about a dark mage career. But neither my job at Biokin, nor the cash flow from my patented inventions, would feed me forever; I would have to say farewell to my wealthy future and the limos with the leather seats. And the mudslingers from NZAMIPS would not forget me. The alternative was to flee the country without a degree and the seal of a mage when only a few months remained till graduation. In the whole world there were only three countries where a dark magician could live relatively safely: our Ingernika, Kashtadar, and I'Sa-Orio-T. In Kashtadar, all combat mages were united in a special order with military hierarchy and discipline, which I didn't like, and in the Sa-Orio Empire a foreigner could not make a decent career - all the good jobs were taken by natives. Other countries seemed pygmies compared to the first three and always rushed from one powerful patron to another; even if there was a place for a lonely outcast there, I did not know of such a place. And my alchemic classes would come to an end. My innate dark talent shaped my fate no worse than a curse.
    T hough there was still Krauhard. I could always go back home and stay there for good. It would not be the first time the gloomy county hid someone from the outside world. I would flee and become nobody, a countryside alchemist, a mechanicus in a village of twenty-two houses, a respected owner of the machine yard, never leaving his home for more than a week. Could I put up with Uncle Gordon's "career", having already tried so many different things?
    The telepathy does not exist, but all people are empaths to some extent: looking at my calm face, my schoolmates tried not to touch me and would not even come close. When our classes ended, they ran away from me in all directions like charges of the same polarity: as far as possible via the shortest path. Well, I did not care. One more day remained till my meeting with the necromancer; I urgently needed to make up my mind: to flee or to stay.
    I came home, put myself in order, and dressed in my best clothes; my shoes shined as if for an appointment with Quarters' uncle. The time to pretend to be someone else was over - either they would accept me for who I was or we would break up. I was going to start with curator Kevinahari as the weakest link.
    The work day in the police headquarters was not over yet, business bustle reigned all over. The empath's office was in the so-called "new wing", which NZAMIPS staff shared with the criminal police. The wing was bright, with spacious rooms and an elevator, though not as elegant as the floor of superiors. My fascination with the elevator was a