Right Hand Magic by Nancy A. Collins Read Free Book Online

waiting for an inheritance is boring. So many of my old schoolmates got fucked up on drugs and alcohol, mainly out of boredom. I swear, half of the girls in my graduating class in high school developed eating disorders simply to have something to do! The sick thing is, my mother wouldn’t have any problems with my being an anorexic—after all, that’s expected from someone of my background.”
    “I take it your parents don’t approve of your career choice?”
    “They like to call it a ‘phase’ I’m going through, like I’m the moon. I guess they think I’ll eventually grow out of it—kind of like baby teeth. They keep saying they don’t want to see me get my hopes up and end up hurt, which is another way of saying they’re expecting me to fail—at least, that’s what they’re hoping for.”
    “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”
    “You haven’t met my mother,” I grunted. “What about you? What made you decide to practice only Right Hand magic? You said so yourself, you could make a lot more money if you used both hands.”
    “A lot of it has to do with family, and what’s expected of someone like me,” he explained, his voice taking on a bitter edge. “Humans tend to view my people as no better than drug dealers and pimps. If you want to destroy somebody’s life, just line a kymie’s palm with silver, am I right? We’re the rapist and the murderer’s best friend, are we not? My people are, for the most part, good-hearted. But a lifetime of good can be undone by a single evil act. I wanted to prove that it’s possible for a Kymeran to make a living without resorting to the Left Hand Path.”
    “Do you? Make a living at it, that is?”
    “I’m renting out rooms, aren’t I?” he replied with a depreciative laugh.
    “That doesn’t mean anything. Most of the musicians signed to labels in this city still have their day jobs. Do you think you’re doing okay?”
    “I have some steady clients,” he admitted. “I rely a lot on word of mouth. And word is getting around that I’m very good at what I do. ...”
    “Gardy-loo!”
    Hexe broke off in midsentence and turned to look in the direction of the voice. A Kymeran with bright orange hair came staggering out of the Highlander Tavern across the street, closely followed by another warlock whose hair was the color of lime sherbet. Both looked extremely inebriated.
    “ Gardy-looooo! ” the orange-headed Kymeran shouted drunkenly, his voice echoing down the street. “I’ll show you who’s the fastest slinger in Golgotham, Oddo!”
    “Bloody abdabs!” Hexe groaned. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the nearest doorway.
    “What’s going on?”
    “Looks like we’re caught in the middle of a pissing contest.”
    “A what contest?” I grimaced.
    “It’s when wizards get into a duel with each other,” he explained, then added, as an afterthought, “when they’re drunk.”
    “What’s he yelling ‘Gardy-loo’ for?”
    “It means ‘Look out.’ It’s kind of like shouting ‘fore,’ when you play golf. Except instead of getting hit by a golf ball, you’re likely to be set on fire or turned into a lamppost.”
    The orange-haired Kymeran drew back his left hand, like a baseball player winding up for the pitch. A tongue of flame suddenly burst to life in his palm, rapidly growing in size and intensity until it looked like a snowball made of fire. With a drunken shout, he hurled it at the other Kymeran’s head.
    The warlock with the lime sherbet hair, the one called Oddo, raised his right hand and made a dismissive gesture, as if waving off a bothersome fly. The fireball abruptly changed trajectories, flying across the narrow street and striking the fire escape of a nearby tenement building. It flew apart in a shower of white-hot sparks, which cascaded downward, sizzling as they made contact with the sidewalk below.
    “Don’t let any of it touch you,” Hexe warned, pulling me even closer to him. “Those projectiles are made