Read Online The Age of Mages: Book I of the Mage Tales by Ilana Waters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ilana Waters
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Completely harmless.
It wasn’t long before I reached the right building. It was five or six stories and made of red brick, with dormer windows on the roof and a turret on one end. It was a nice enough piece of architecture, but certainly nothing that screamed “we investigate magical creatures.” I walked up the front steps to an enormous oak door.
I looked down at the paper in my hand. This was definitely the address. But all the door said was “PIA—Members Only.” I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I looked around, but there was no knocker or bell. Finally, I saw a small intercom on my left, and pressed the button.
A female voice crackled through the static. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for my appointment with Mr. Hartwood.” There was a long pause, and I wasn’t sure if the woman had heard me, or if she simply forgot I was there. I was just about to press the intercom button again when I heard a loud buzzing, and the door clicked open.
The lobby was straight out of a 1940s hotel. All its floors were visible the way you would see in a shopping mall, with a long railing running the length and width of the building. There was even a cage elevator with a scissor gate across it. Although everything seemed to be in decent shape, it looked like no one had redecorated for decades.
I walked up to the front desk; behind it sat a young woman flipping through a magazine. She wore very practical-looking clothing: a button-down shirt and cardigan. I was glad to see this, because it meant I was on the right track with my own costume. Next to her was a brass service bell—perhaps this building had originally been a hotel—but she gave me a look that said, “Don’t you dare use it.”
“Ah, here to see Arthur Hartwood?” I repeated.
“You said you had an appointment?” She flipped through a datebook on the counter.
“That’s right.” A quick scan of her mind said she wasn’t going to be more helpful than she absolutely had to be. I suppose I could have forced her to be more accommodating—after all, some supernaturals can control mortal thoughts, not just read them.
But as with all our powers, one had to be careful. Jedi mind tricks may work in a pinch, but use them too often, and mortals will start to notice a pattern. If everyone begins acting or feeling strangely around a particular person, it won’t take long for them to realize it and start taking defensive action. Also, some mortal thoughts cannot be controlled, just as they cannot be read. Finally, controlling mortal thoughts takes a lot of effort, which is why most witch and mage workings are accomplished through spells. And by the way, most of us have long evolved past wands, so please don’t expect to see them here.
“Hartwood . . . Hartwood . . .” The girl’s eyes scanned the datebook.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
She looked up at me briefly and blinked. “Of course I do,” she replied, as though I were an idiot. “Everyone knows Mr. Hartwood. He’s been at the PIA so long, he’s practically an institution. But it’s been years since he’s gone out in the field.” She went back to the datebook. “I’m just trying to find his appointments.”
I sighed. Doing research in the PIA might take a while. Did they even have computers?
“Ah, here it is.” She kept her finger on one spot in the book and used the other to dial a rotary phone beside her. Holding the receiver in the crook of her neck, she closed the datebook and drummed her fingernails on the counter.
“Hello—yes, are you available?” she asked. “Your ten o’clock is here. All right, I will.” She turned to me.
“Mr. Hartwood will see you now.”
Chapter 7
After being given directions to the second floor, I decided to use the wide staircase in the center of the lobby instead of taking my chances with the elevator. There didn’t seem to be many other members around, although I did pass a few severe-looking men and women in the halls.
It wasn’t long before I reached the right building. It was five or six stories and made of red brick, with dormer windows on the roof and a turret on one end. It was a nice enough piece of architecture, but certainly nothing that screamed “we investigate magical creatures.” I walked up the front steps to an enormous oak door.
I looked down at the paper in my hand. This was definitely the address. But all the door said was “PIA—Members Only.” I tried the door handle, but it was locked. I looked around, but there was no knocker or bell. Finally, I saw a small intercom on my left, and pressed the button.
A female voice crackled through the static. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for my appointment with Mr. Hartwood.” There was a long pause, and I wasn’t sure if the woman had heard me, or if she simply forgot I was there. I was just about to press the intercom button again when I heard a loud buzzing, and the door clicked open.
The lobby was straight out of a 1940s hotel. All its floors were visible the way you would see in a shopping mall, with a long railing running the length and width of the building. There was even a cage elevator with a scissor gate across it. Although everything seemed to be in decent shape, it looked like no one had redecorated for decades.
I walked up to the front desk; behind it sat a young woman flipping through a magazine. She wore very practical-looking clothing: a button-down shirt and cardigan. I was glad to see this, because it meant I was on the right track with my own costume. Next to her was a brass service bell—perhaps this building had originally been a hotel—but she gave me a look that said, “Don’t you dare use it.”
“Ah, here to see Arthur Hartwood?” I repeated.
“You said you had an appointment?” She flipped through a datebook on the counter.
“That’s right.” A quick scan of her mind said she wasn’t going to be more helpful than she absolutely had to be. I suppose I could have forced her to be more accommodating—after all, some supernaturals can control mortal thoughts, not just read them.
But as with all our powers, one had to be careful. Jedi mind tricks may work in a pinch, but use them too often, and mortals will start to notice a pattern. If everyone begins acting or feeling strangely around a particular person, it won’t take long for them to realize it and start taking defensive action. Also, some mortal thoughts cannot be controlled, just as they cannot be read. Finally, controlling mortal thoughts takes a lot of effort, which is why most witch and mage workings are accomplished through spells. And by the way, most of us have long evolved past wands, so please don’t expect to see them here.
“Hartwood . . . Hartwood . . .” The girl’s eyes scanned the datebook.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
She looked up at me briefly and blinked. “Of course I do,” she replied, as though I were an idiot. “Everyone knows Mr. Hartwood. He’s been at the PIA so long, he’s practically an institution. But it’s been years since he’s gone out in the field.” She went back to the datebook. “I’m just trying to find his appointments.”
I sighed. Doing research in the PIA might take a while. Did they even have computers?
“Ah, here it is.” She kept her finger on one spot in the book and used the other to dial a rotary phone beside her. Holding the receiver in the crook of her neck, she closed the datebook and drummed her fingernails on the counter.
“Hello—yes, are you available?” she asked. “Your ten o’clock is here. All right, I will.” She turned to me.
“Mr. Hartwood will see you now.”
Chapter 7
After being given directions to the second floor, I decided to use the wide staircase in the center of the lobby instead of taking my chances with the elevator. There didn’t seem to be many other members around, although I did pass a few severe-looking men and women in the halls.
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