CHAPTER 1
The taxi pulled over, and I craned my neck, looking up at the huge church rising
from the hill above us to my left. It looked like the pictures. The river bisecting the city
ran to my right.
“Grossmünster,” the driver said in German. “Are you sure you want to be dropped
here?”
It was long past dark, and there were very few people out on the streets.
“Yes, I’ll be fine,” I told him as I pulled my backpack and suitcase out of the trunk.
I had a set of directions to get to my destination by car, but they were written in
English, so I couldn’t show them to the taxi driver, whose English was worse than my
German. Even with a map, I found it hard to make sense of them. The streets in the old
city were a maze. The other set of directions, in German, would take me on foot from
Grossmünster, which seemed much simpler.
I paid him, shouldered the backpack, and dragged the roller bag after me as I
climbed the ramp up to the church. The directions on the paper I held glowed faintly in
the dark while I wound through the narrow streets of the old city. The last turn took me
into a steep, narrow alley—not really an alley, but a street for walking, too narrow for
cars. Amelia had told me the name for such streets was Gasse, or Gassen in the plural.
The city was, to say the least, a very unique experience. Before I got on the plane the
day before, I had never flown, or even been outside of Colorado. Compared to Queen
City, where I grew up, Zürich felt ancient: stone buildings lined narrow streets, and
every sign I saw was in German.
At the end of the Gasse was a small square—or Platz—with a fountain. Around the
square, the ground floors of the buildings contained small shops, with a café at the far
end, where tables were set outside. To my right, the building looked like it might be
apartments, with many bicycles chained to an iron railing in front of it.
Turning around, I faced an interesting building. It was triangular; the street I had
walked up had a twin on the other side. From my vantage point, the triangle was
truncated, with windows facing the square. Between the windows, where one might
expect a door, there was only a solid slab of wall. The dimly lit interior looked like a
restaurant, but if it was, there was no sign to attract diners.
The windows on the second story were set back, and there was a shallow terrace
with plants growing in boxes around the railing. Above that floor was a dormer
window— probably an attic, like the one I’d lived in for more than a year. I chuckled,
wondering if that would be my new room. Hopefully it was heated.
I walked back the way I’d come to the side of the building and knocked on the door
there. Almost immediately, a stout middle-aged woman opened the door. She was
wearing a long dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place a hundred years ago. Her
chestnut hair was severely pulled back in a tight bun. Sparkling blue eyes and a bright
smile dominated her round, plain face. Her aura was that of a strong aeromancer.
Before I had a chance to say anything, she said in heavily accented English, “Kaitlyn
Dunne? Come in, child. Here, let me help you with that.”
I swear, she was as fast as a vampire, snatching my suitcase from my hand and
backing away.
I followed her in and saw that the front room to my right was set up as a dining
room. There were about a dozen tables, each covered with white tablecloths, flatware,
and glasses. A door to my left opened to another room—a kitchen—and a staircase in
front of me led upward.
“Put your things there by the stairs,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
“A little bit.” It had been a long flight from Queen City, and the airline food
reminded me of the days I scrounged in restaurant dumpsters for something edible.
“Sit right there,” she said, pointing to the nearest table. “Hang your coat there.”
I did as she said, hanging my jacket and hat on a hook, and sitting at the table she
indicated. My butt had barely hit the chair when she set a pot of tea and a porcelain
teacup in front of me. Then she was gone back to the next room. I peered into the teapot
and found herbs steeping. I smelled chamomile and raspberry, but I couldn’t identify
the other ingredients.
In only a couple of minutes, she set a plate in front of me: schnitzel, fried potatoes,
and stewed red cabbage. I was suddenly very hungry.
“I’m Anna Buckner, the housekeeper,” the woman said, taking the seat across from
me. “The Master will be down shortly. Eat, child. You look like you need some meat on
your bones.”
“Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch,” I said—I speak some German—hoping she
wouldn’t test me on it.
She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Nur ein bisschen?”
Just a little? That I understood. I nodded quickly.
“And you’ll speak more of it,” she said in English, “although you’ll find that English
is widely spoken here in Zürich.”
I wolfed down the supper she had prepared, and thought I saw approval in her eyes.
After I finished, she whisked the plate away, and I sat back sipping the tea. And if I
hadn’t been keeping an eye on the stairs, I would have completely missed the Master
coming down. He moved quieter than anyone I had ever met.
He was thin, wearing a white ankle-length dressing gown. His white hair was pulled
back and caught in a jeweled ring. His white beard spilled down his chest to his breast
bone. As he glided across the floor toward me, I could see that he was probably about as
tall as I was. I wondered if he cultivated the look of an ancient wizard, or if he was
simply the original ancient wizard who defined the stereotype.
“Kaitlyn?” He sat across from me. “I am Adolphus Schein. I’m pleased to meet you.”
His accent speaking English was quite British. Not a trace of German intonations. And
his soft voice made me want to crawl in his lap. It somehow made me feel safe and
warm.
His aura was the most spectacular thing I’d ever seen. People told me my aura
looked like a somewhat chaotic rainbow. His looked like a ley line. Every color the
human eye could discern rippled and flowed around and through him. I used magic. He
was magic.
“Yes,” he said, “Amelia was correct. You are someone I can teach, someone I can
work with.”
Amelia was his granddaughter and my mentor for the past two years. But she was a
pyromancer and couldn’t really understand my magic, let alone teach me about it. They
said I was rare—maybe only a couple dozen spirit mages in all of North America. And so
I found myself in Switzerland, apprenticed to a man some called the greatest living
mage.
“I’m sure you’re very tired. We will speak more tomorrow and get to know each
other.” He sniffed at my tea and smiled. “I doubt you’ll be awake much longer, so why
don’t I show you your room?”
He stood and I followed him. I saw the flows of air as he picked up my backpack
with one hand and started up the stairs. I knew that it weighed fifty pounds. I grabbed
the rest of my stuff and followed him up to the second floor. There was a door just to the
right of the stairs, and another at the end of the hallway. He turned to the left, passed
the door that led to the terrace, and opened the second door.
There was a small sitting room with a desk in one corner, a bedroom, and a
bathroom. It wasn’t spacious, but it was totally adequate. A large box in the sitting room
was addressed in my handwriting—the part of my belongings that had been shipped in
advance.
“The restaurant downstairs?” I asked.
“Ah, yes, I own it. You’ll take your meals there. Let Frau Buckner know which table
you prefer, and it shall always be available. We are open for brunch and dinner, by
reservation only, but there is someone on duty in the kitchen at all times. You and I, and
Frau Buckner, live here. The rest of the staff, both for the restaurant and the cleaning
girls, come in.”
He opened a door to show a small closet by the entrance, and then a walk-in closet
in the bedroom. In addition to the double bed, that room held a small vanity table with a
mirror, a chair, and two chests of drawers.
“The cleaners are rather thorough. Anything that someone other than you might
consider trash, or clothes that have been worn but aren’t dirty, should be put away
unless you want them cleaned. Is there anything you need before I go?”
“Uh, no. I’ll be fine.”
“Good night, then.” He left and closed the door behind him.
He was right that I was sleepy. I barely stayed awake long enough to brush my teeth. ...
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