Swift (Strangetown Magic Book 1) Read Free

fetch a ball.
    The sun was fierce and my pale skin screamed for sunblock I didn't have, sweat slick on bare arms and skintight black jeans I wriggle into every morning—my bum is like two albino melons wrapped in denim so you can bet I'm gonna show you what you're missing.
    I kept on going until the lack of fitness gave its lactic acid warning once again. Scanning the park quickly, I knew this was about as good a spot as any to deal with Mr. Squisher and Mr. Nasty Elf. The other park goers were spread out, well away from me, so I stopped and turned, back to the sun. I put my hands on my hips, trying to look calm, cool, and badass, the effect only slightly spoiled by a little dormouse sat on my head and deciding now would be the perfect time to scratch.
    Not in the mood, I picked him up and put him back in my breast pocket, ignoring his objections and fastening the popper.
    "Quiet, you moaning mouse, or I'll throw you to the troll and you'll be nothing but stinky droppings." There was a muffled shriek of horror that vibrated across my breast. Gotta admit, it felt kinda nice.
    Getting my breathing under control as the troll slowed and approached at a more sedate pace, I let my mind empty of everything apart from magic. There was no me, not in the sense of a person with cares, worries, concerns over her future, all of that was gone.
    All that remained was a vessel for magic. Strong magic. My magic, access granted via the Pool. It builds inside of me, all the years of training, all the practice, the perfecting of my art. The pain, the bliss, the thrill of the esoteric energy that permeates the Universe and the planes of existence, the reality we see and the endless ones we don't. It gathered inside my body, swirling and churning and feeling more real than the reality before me.
    I was white light and I was dark matter, heavy and weightless, good and evil, pure and soiled, and utterly ruthless. I knew without looking that my body was shining, sparks of magic dancing off me, crackling and spitting like I'd split open and a frenzy of wildness would envelop the troll and elf and they would be no more. Which, unless I kept control, could very well happen, at least the me exploding bit. Magic is wild and terrible and dangerous as hell, and it can wreak havoc on your body unless you are adept.
    The more you use, the more dangerous it is, so I kept focus, willed it into being in ways I wanted, and as the troll came to a halt, the elf squinting at me, half-blinded by the sun, I reached out into the vastness and took the quickest glimpse I could into the countless timelines that were my possible futures.
    Paths split and converged endlessly, into myriad very different futures. Some contained me, many didn't. Some saw me victorious, some saw me dead. Some saw me broken and bleeding, others saw me stomped to mush like the vampire.
    But plenty of futures saw me victorious, whole and unharmed. In the blink of an eye I chose one such path, retreating quickly before I was burdened with the Sight, a terrible gift of utter futility if you got too deep. Nobody wants to see their whole future laid out for them—can you imagine how boring that would be?
    "Such fun sport," said the elf, voice beautiful, scent intoxicating even from a distance.
    I felt its mind reaching for me, to take me and wrap me in the most comfortable blanket ever. To soothe, calm, and entrance me so it could do as it wished. To seduce me. A mental block slammed down like a steel shutter, locking him out, my mind impervious to his nonsense.
    "Shut up, you sick freak. You murdered my friend, for no reason."
    "This world is dirty, so I'm cleaning it up and having fun doing it."
    These damn dark elves, they want what is ours now they are stuck here, and I know for a fact that many parts of the world are close to being under their control. It doesn't take many of them to enthrall a city; they are like vampires with their glamor but multiplied a thousand-fold.
    Once they get their