The Hour Mage

The Hour Mage The Quarter Mage Book Two Angelina J. Steffort MK The Hour Mage First published 2023 Copyright © by Angelina J. Steffort 2022 All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Ebook: ASIN B0B6WPC998 Print: ISBN 9783903357624 Cover by Fantastical Ink. MK www.ajsteffort.com Join the community! Become part of Angelina J. Steffort’s VIP Reader Group on Facebook: Also by Angelina J. Steffort Can’t get enough of Angelina’s worlds? Scan this code to find all books by Angelina J. Steffort. The Quarter Mage The Quarter Mage The Hour Mage The Never Mage Shattered Kingdom Shattered Kingdom Wicked Crown Shadow Rule Lost Towers Secret Court Dark Refuge Reborn Throne Two Worlds Saga Two Worlds of Provenance Two Worlds of Oblivion Two Worlds of Redemption Two Worlds of Dominion Breath of Fate Torn Unraveled Unforgiven Tethered Wings White Black Gray Spark Fire Ashes Crash Contents Map Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Pronunciation Guide About the Author Map Map of Eherea. To see a full size version of the map visit www.thequartermage.com One I picked up the bowl for what felt like the thirteenth time, hiding my gagging at the stench of infestation behind the cloth wrapped over my mouth and nose. Dust swirled in the shafts of sunlight creeping in through the half-shaded windows where the heat of Jezuinian summer was making my job difficult. Tristan hadn’t checked in this morning, occupied with finding herbs in this landscape so different from what he was used to in the lush fairylands of Askarea. And I hadn’t found a minute to wonder when he’d return, my hands busy with cleaning wounds and preparing potions. Following the dim corridor to the small backyard where I could dump the dirty contents of my bowl before I fetched some fresh, boiled water from the kitchens, my chest constricted more with every step into the half-light. Not too long ago, I had gone into the dungeons beneath the fairy palace to find Tristan. And not too long ago, I’d been caught in the process—not to mention that my cousin Dimar had been captured because of me as well. They all had. My Aunt Zelia, who’d been the Master Mage of Aceleau before she’d gotten on bad terms with the fairy king and lost her Mage Stone. Again, because of me. I paused, leaning my back against the cracked wall, and closed my eyes, heaving a breath. They were free, I reminded myself. We all were. And we were as safe as was possible, given I’d destroyed their Mage Stones. Instinctively, my fingers curled around the edge of the bowl as if trying to grasp one of those little crystals storing magic for human Mages to wield. “There you are, San,” Zelia’s voice sounded from the end of the corridor, and I pushed away from the wall, eager to hide my moment of weakness. “We need fresh water.” I nodded, rushing on to the back door, pushing down the handle with my elbow before I dumped the contents of the bowl in the sewers. “I’ll be there in a moment.” Zelia caught up with me as I crossed the yard to get to the kitchens, her plain linen robes so different from the colorful attire she’d worn in Aceleau. Where all shades of purple had adorned her from head to toe, sands and browns now defined all our clothes. Peasants. That was what we’d become. “By Eroth, San. You’re shaking.” Zelia caught me by the arm as I turned into the abandoned hallway at the other side of the building where we’d taken up residence. “It’s just the smell.” I gestured at the bowl before I discarded it in the large pot on the stove to boil it. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” She could read from my eyes; what I had the real trouble getting used to was Tristan’s absence, the risks he was taking when he went out there to gather supplies—past the city gates to where the Guardians knew who would spy him. And Dimar— My cousin had returned to the Jezuinian palace to keep an eye on things, as he’d called it. Since Cyrill had never learned about Dimar’s involvement in my escape, didn’t even know I was still alive, he’d decided to return to my husband’s court—my stolen court—where he hoped to gather information without raising suspicion. I gulped down a breath, reaching for a fresh bowl and filling it with water, eyes on the Master Mage whose magic I had on my conscience. “How many are waiting?” I jerked my chin in the direction we’d come from. We’d helped over fifteen people already today, and it wasn’t even noon. When, in the beginning, we’d snuck into the city, disguised in the traditional southern Cezuxian linen shawls drawn up to our noses, nobody had cared for yet another group of peasants trying their luck in the capital. But with every new week, word had gotten around in