Inked

ago!”
    “Yes, sir. But they refused to leave without seeing you,” the lieutenant said, before getting jostled aside by a man with black eyes, a weather-beaten face and a hank of greasy hair.
    “It’s the gangs!” The man held up his arm, displaying a nasty burn. “They burnt us out this morning and we want to know what you’re going to do about it!”
    “Where did this attack happen?” Hargrove demanded.
    “In an encampment over on Decatur.”
    “I know of no approved housing in that area.”
    “It’s a flophouse, sir. In the drain,” Jamie explained.
    Hargrove scowled at the injured man. “You were warned months ago that continuing to remain in an unsecured location puts you at risk. The Black Circle—”
    “Do we look like we have anything those bastards would want?” the man demanded.
    Personally, I thought he had a point. The powerful dark mages who composed our main enemy in the war tended to aim a little higher. But Hargrove wasn’t impressed. “They are known to hit civilian targets for the terror value.”
    “All your secure locations cost too much!”
    “We have arranged free safe houses for indigents—”
    “Yeah, in the desert! Our homes are here!”
    I couldn’t imagine anyone considering a murky, dangerous drain to be “home” and apparently, neither could Hargrove. “Be that as it may, you have the option. Should you choose to ignore it, there is little I can do. Other than offer you medical assistance for the wounded—”
    “We don’t need charity! We need protection!”
    “What you need is to moderate your tone!” Hargrove snapped. “And to face realities! I do not have the personnel to protect you if you choose to remain underground. That is why you were specifically instructed to evacuate—”
    I stopped listening because a young man was tugging on my sleeve. He had gray eyes, dark hair and coltish limbs poking out of clothes that were at least two sizes too big. He looked like me ten years ago, before I grew into my height. He also looked lost, like maybe he’d misplaced his family in the crush.
    “Do you know where I can find…” he glanced down at what I belatedly realized was an orientation packet. “Uh, Mage Beckett?”
    Christ; the kid was a recruit. I opened my mouth to tell him to go home, to finish growing into his clothes, to finish growing up , but Hargrove beat me to it. “How old are you?” he snapped.
    The boy’s eyes widened in dismay as he belatedly recognized Central’s resident terror. “Ei-eighteen, sir.”
    “You don’t look it!” The kid appeared vaguely insulted, but he had the sense not to talk back. “Make sure you have proof of age. You will be asked for it,” Hargrove told him, before informing him where to find his drill instructor.
    The young man nodded and backed off fast, only to trip over someone’s battered suitcase and lurch into a cage holding a piglet. The animal bit his shirtsleeve and held on. The boy panicked with his soon-to-be-boss’s eyes on him and slung a spell—which was just one syllable off. It should have given the pig a small electric shock; instead…
    “Oh, dear,” Jamie said, as the pig swelled like a ripe melon, bursting through its woven home with a startled squeal.
    I started to mutter the counterspell to shrink it back to size, when Jamie stepped on my toe. Oh, yeah. I fell silent and let him take care of it, then watched the red-faced teenager scurry down the hall toward the gym. It should have been funny—the kind of story you laughed at with your buddies years later. Only I wasn’t sure that kid would have a later.
    “He doesn’a look eighteen,” Jamie murmured.
    “He doesn’t look sixteen ,” I said, my magic surging. I managed to tamp it down before we had another incident, but the effort made my headache worse. I had to get over this; I had to get well. We needed people in the fight who would do more than serve as target practice for the dark.
    The lieutenant was left to deal with the angry man and we pressed on, but we’d only gone a few yards when Sebastian stopped by the doors to the medical facility. “Dr. Sedgewick will bring us the results as soon as he’s finished, Mr. Arnou,” Hargrove informed him, attempting to mask his impatience with a tight smile.
    “I would prefer to see the body for myself.”
    The smile vanished. “From what I understand, it was in…less than pristine condition when brought in.”
    “Nonetheless.”
    Hargrove waited, I guess expecting