For too long, he’d agreed with them. What good was a mage who wasn’t allowed to perform magic? What good was a male mage if he couldn’t father more mages to support the clan?
A lifetime spent with no friends, surrounded by people who would cross the street rather than pass him on the sidewalk. Every look contained a sneer, every comment filled with derision.
If he was a waste, then he was better off on his own. Even if he never managed to cast another spell, at least he could do something with his life that would make him happy.
Lifting his head, he glanced around the spartan motel room. It was barely bigger than a closet, with a narrow twin bed, a small desk and plastic chair, TV, a tiny fridge, and a coffee maker. The white walls were broken only by a pair of windows that looked out on the gravel parking lot and a single print of a green car that looked as if it was straight out of the fifties. Or maybe sixties. Tori wasn’t sure. Cars had never been his thing.
The floor wasn’t even carpeted, just bland, blue linoleum that was cool to the touch first thing in the morning.
The bathroom was shared, but at least it was only a few doors down the hall.
But as bland and boring as his surroundings were, they held two great perks. One: the motel was cheap. Like, extremely cheap. Which he desperately needed right now, thanks to his rapidly depleting funds.
Two: it was thirteen hundred kilometers away from the rest of his clan.
He was safe, and he was free.
His hand strayed to the acoustic guitar laying on the bed next to him. It was the one thing he couldn’t leave behind in Nuorgam. He’d picked it up in a second-hand shop after finally saving enough money as a teenager and had taught himself over the years by watching videos online. The guitar was both his one luxury item and the key to his sanity.
And now, there was a chance it would keep him from going hungry while he was in Helsinki. Three days of searching hadn’t turned up a job yet. He wasn’t desperate, but it wasn’t far off at this rate. If he didn’t find a job soon, he could always do a little busking in the parks. All the tourists pouring off the cruise ships would be happy to toss him a few euros.
Snatching up his battered backpack from the floor, he turned and emptied its contents onto the bed. He’d not been able to pack much before leaving his village, afraid of arousing suspicion.
Monthly trips were made to some of the larger neighboring towns for a variety of supplies. He wasn’t picked too often for the job, but Jarvi had come up sick at the last minute, and he’d been tapped to run for supplies. Maybe it was fate smiling on him. Who knew? Tori didn’t fucking care.
Each day when he left his room, he took all his possessions with him. Cheap also meant he wasn’t in the best neighborhood. He didn’t want to risk losing what little he had to a thief.
In his backpack, he’d managed to stuff a change of clothes and a couple extra pairs of underwear and socks. He’d also grabbed toiletries as well as his favorite book. A loose pick tossed inside the guitar had been enough to fake something wrong with the instrument, allowing him to claim that he planned to have it repaired while he ran the necessary errands.
The one thing he wished he’d grabbed more of were spell ingredients. Not that he was looking to cast a lot of magic in Helsinki, but he knew a few cloaking spells that would help mask his movements. Unfortunately, he’d already burned through most of his ingredients, and it would be a while before he could replenish them.
As it was, August in Helsinki didn’t offer much in the way of newly fallen snow, and he hadn’t dared stop to capture light from the full moon while traveling. He’d have to wait until the next one. Some of the herbs could probably be found in the countryside, but without a car and money for gas, harvesting those was unlikely.
No, his best chance of getting new spell ingredients was going to be from another clan.
Except he didn’t know of any other clans in Finland. Hell, he didn’t know where any other mage clans were period. The rest of the world seemed to think that both mages and dragons had died out following the Great Dragon War, but Tori knew better. If his clan had survived, then he was willing to bet there were other mage clans out there. But he wasn’t sure who was alive or even where they were.
The only problem with that logic was it meant dragons existed as well.
And dragons were the only thing in this world worse than his own clan.
Dragons had attacked the Jaeggi Clan, an old and trusted ally of the Taavi. Dragons had started the war that decimated the mage clans. Dragons had always claimed to be the great protectors of mages, but they’d shown their true colors five hundred years ago when they slaughtered the Jaeggi.
The details were hazy on exactly how the major mage clans were destroyed, but there was no question that it never would have happened if not for the actions of dragons.
Didn’t matter. Fuck dragons. And fuck the Taavi Clan.
Shifting on the bed, Tori pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieved a wad of bills and handful of coins. Two hundred and seventy-three euros. Not great. Enough to get him a few more nights at the motel and some food if he kept it cheap. He needed at least another change of clothes, but thrift stores offered some inexpensive options. He had another thousand euros sitting in his bank account, but he was afraid of tapping that and leading anyone from his clan straight to him.
Would they even look for him?
They’d made it clear they didn’t want him. He was a waste of skin and magical talent. They thought he was a drain on clan resources. Why would they look for him?
Well, other than the fact that the Taavi had remained hidden from the world for five centuries, he was the first to attempt to permanently leave. He was the first to carry the secret of the Taavi to the outside world. They might want to get him back to keep him from betraying that secret.
Not that he would.
What did he care about the hidden clan?
Let them stay tucked away from the rest of the world, practicing their magic and retelling the same old stories.
No, it was best if he kept his head down. Helsinki might be a large city of more than a million people within her metro area, but he wasn’t going to risk anyone coming to look for him.
The best idea was to find a job as quickly as possible. He had enough basic skills that he should be able to find something within a busy city.
With a little money in his pocket, he would be able to rent an apartment or even travel out of Finland. Maybe head farther south. See the Mediterranean. He could think fast on his feet. He’d be able to survive, probably even thrive, on his own.
Yes, he would find a job and go from there.
And well, of course, avoid dragons at all costs.
This was turning out to be more difficult than Baldewin had first anticipated. He shuffled along the path with Warin, one ear trained on his companion’s phone conversation with Cassie and Lisette, the head mage of the Burkhard Clan, while he scanned the immediate area for their missing mage.
His initial excitement over Cassie finding a mage had quickly given way to the painful realization that Helsinki was no small town.
It was by sheer luck that Cameron had stumbled into their hometown of Sonthofen a couple months earlier. By god, it was stunning they’d found him in the massive throng of people at the Dragon Festival.
But now they had a missing mage in Helsinki.
The capital city itself was over seven hundred square kilometers, and Nestori’s motel was on the outskirts of the city, widening the possible area to nearly thirty-seven hundred square kilometers. There were more than a million people and thousands of buildings. How were they going to narrow down his location?