Read Online The Watchmage of Old New York (The Watchmage Chronicles Book 1) by C.A. Sanders - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C.A. Sanders
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bread.
I turned onto Thirteenth and walked past where the Redcaps anointed me. A tailor waved to me with both hands. “It’s a miracle,” he said. “You look healthy as a horse.”
“A little rest and some good food does wonders,” I said.
“And prayer to the Lord”.
“Yes…that too.”
The shopkeeper offered me an apple, but my stomach was already grumbling from the sausages. He pressed it into my hand anyway. I thanked him and stuffed it into my now bulging pocket.
I saw the familiar hospital building in the distance. It started to snow, though the sun still shone. I got a tingle on the back on my neck, a warning all police and gamblers get right before the dice turn on you.
Strong hands grabbed me by the coat. I shouted and struggled, but they pulled me into the shadowy alley.
“We tol’ you not t’come back, pig. Now we’s gotta croak ya.” I recognized the gravelly, menacing voice from four feet high. I got what I was hoping for. Damnation.
Nathaniel
Thomas Lancaster the Fourth is what wizards call a legacy mageling. His father, grandfather and great-grandfather were magelings, and they passed down their knowledge to him. The Lancasters have accumulated quite a cache of magical pieces over the generations, most of which Tom has no idea how to use, but that never stops him from trying.
Tom and his wife Candace live at the top of a hill on the west side of Harlem. His great-grandfather built the original house a hundred years ago, and each successive Tom added to it—a library here, a garden maze there—until it was one of the most impressive estates on the island. The newspapers are always printing articles about it and the lavish parties that the Lancasters love to throw. If the papers knew what really went on behind their doors, they’d run out of ink.
Tom’s butler greeted me when I knocked, and Candace rushed to the door. “Nattie! How good to see you!” she exclaimed as she hugged me. Everything with Candace was an exclamation.
“It’s good to see you.” I untangled myself from her grasp.
“It’s been too long. You missed our last two affairs.”
“I know, I know. I’ve been very busy with Watchmage duties. It’s not work that leaves time for leisure.”
“But surely you can make time for us.” She grinned wickedly. “Jane Rona was looking lovely at our last affair, and I know that she’s very fond of you.”
“I’ll make the next one.”
“You say that, but I know that you’ll beg off.” She put her hands on her hips and puckered her lips like a duck. “Nattie, I worry for you, all alone in that big house.” She clapped her hands. “When are you going to find another wife?”
“I have a wife.”
“But…” she started to protest, but yielded the point. “You must stay for tea, at least. Tom will be back soon. He’s in the garden maze working on a new sculpture.”
“I actually came to call on him. Wizardly duties.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Well, if I can’t keep you, would you like to wait for Tom here or go to the garden?”
“A nice stroll through the garden would do me some good. Would you care to join me?” I regretted the words right away.
“I would love to! I can show you all of the new shrubbery, and some of Tom’s new sculptures.” Candace called the butler—who had melted into the scenery—and told him our destination. She then pulled me outside and toward the garden.
The garden begins on the side of the house and sprawls across most of the estate’s east side. Seven-foot tall walls of thick hedgerow loomed before us, with an arched gateway in the center woven with vines and violets. A path of raked sand ran up to the gateway, where it blended into blue-green grass cut low. We stepped inside and the hedges grew to at least fifteen feet. It was an illusion, but an effective one that provided shade without blocking out the sky. I know
I turned onto Thirteenth and walked past where the Redcaps anointed me. A tailor waved to me with both hands. “It’s a miracle,” he said. “You look healthy as a horse.”
“A little rest and some good food does wonders,” I said.
“And prayer to the Lord”.
“Yes…that too.”
The shopkeeper offered me an apple, but my stomach was already grumbling from the sausages. He pressed it into my hand anyway. I thanked him and stuffed it into my now bulging pocket.
I saw the familiar hospital building in the distance. It started to snow, though the sun still shone. I got a tingle on the back on my neck, a warning all police and gamblers get right before the dice turn on you.
Strong hands grabbed me by the coat. I shouted and struggled, but they pulled me into the shadowy alley.
“We tol’ you not t’come back, pig. Now we’s gotta croak ya.” I recognized the gravelly, menacing voice from four feet high. I got what I was hoping for. Damnation.
Nathaniel
Thomas Lancaster the Fourth is what wizards call a legacy mageling. His father, grandfather and great-grandfather were magelings, and they passed down their knowledge to him. The Lancasters have accumulated quite a cache of magical pieces over the generations, most of which Tom has no idea how to use, but that never stops him from trying.
Tom and his wife Candace live at the top of a hill on the west side of Harlem. His great-grandfather built the original house a hundred years ago, and each successive Tom added to it—a library here, a garden maze there—until it was one of the most impressive estates on the island. The newspapers are always printing articles about it and the lavish parties that the Lancasters love to throw. If the papers knew what really went on behind their doors, they’d run out of ink.
Tom’s butler greeted me when I knocked, and Candace rushed to the door. “Nattie! How good to see you!” she exclaimed as she hugged me. Everything with Candace was an exclamation.
“It’s good to see you.” I untangled myself from her grasp.
“It’s been too long. You missed our last two affairs.”
“I know, I know. I’ve been very busy with Watchmage duties. It’s not work that leaves time for leisure.”
“But surely you can make time for us.” She grinned wickedly. “Jane Rona was looking lovely at our last affair, and I know that she’s very fond of you.”
“I’ll make the next one.”
“You say that, but I know that you’ll beg off.” She put her hands on her hips and puckered her lips like a duck. “Nattie, I worry for you, all alone in that big house.” She clapped her hands. “When are you going to find another wife?”
“I have a wife.”
“But…” she started to protest, but yielded the point. “You must stay for tea, at least. Tom will be back soon. He’s in the garden maze working on a new sculpture.”
“I actually came to call on him. Wizardly duties.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Well, if I can’t keep you, would you like to wait for Tom here or go to the garden?”
“A nice stroll through the garden would do me some good. Would you care to join me?” I regretted the words right away.
“I would love to! I can show you all of the new shrubbery, and some of Tom’s new sculptures.” Candace called the butler—who had melted into the scenery—and told him our destination. She then pulled me outside and toward the garden.
The garden begins on the side of the house and sprawls across most of the estate’s east side. Seven-foot tall walls of thick hedgerow loomed before us, with an arched gateway in the center woven with vines and violets. A path of raked sand ran up to the gateway, where it blended into blue-green grass cut low. We stepped inside and the hedges grew to at least fifteen feet. It was an illusion, but an effective one that provided shade without blocking out the sky. I know
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