Chapter One
There were very few reasons for a self-respecting magician to visit Zhuang Avenue in Los Angeles. The narrow lane was full of both hidden and exposed dangers. The creatures that lurked in the cold shadows spread disease and feasted on the weak. Criminals ran the shops, selling things the House of Fourteen would no doubt deem illegal.
For Nevin Gooseman, the risk was worth it. The politician had been growing increasingly worried about the Dragon Elite trying to rule over mortal governments. He didn’t trust them. Dragons had nearly been eliminated from this planet for a reason. They were beasts, and giving them too much power would result in the devastation of the mortal race. That’s what Nevin believed, but he needed proof, which brought him to Zhuang Avenue, where the lowest of the magical world could be found conducting business.
The smell on the street was hard to stomach, and after stepping into a puddle full of something thick and sticky, Nevin would have to throw out his leather shoes, he realized. He would also burn the designer suit he wore and bathe multiple times after this trip. If Nevin learned something that helped him to bring peace to his people, then it would be worth it.
Few magicians devoted their lives to serving mortals in political roles, but Nevin had always felt it was his calling. It was through his community outreach projects he’d learned about Zhuang Avenue. His instinct had told him to allow it to stay in East LA—now he knew why.
The politician wasn’t there to buy drugs or illegal magical artifacts or purchase a night with a shapeshifter. There was one type of magician who would dare to set up shop on Zhuang Avenue. Seers would never advertise their abilities nor attempt to sell their services in a place like Roya Lane. But among the criminals and rejects, a seer wasn’t considered as much of an outcast.
Even in the magical world, seers were the worst of the worst. They always had been. No one wanted them to steal glimpses of the future and use the information to abuse the system. Since ancient times, seers had been seen as unnatural. They were thought to bring bad luck and had been persecuted for it.
Those born with this power had never been able to overcome the stigma. Nevin had learned through his years of service that even criminals and the lowest of the low could be used for good—or at least to promote his political agendas.
That morning, worried about the potential problems the savages who rode dragons would bring to the modern world, Nevin came up with an idea which brought him to Zhuang Avenue. Trying to oppose the Dragon Elite was political suicide. The more they intervened in global matters—seemingly bringing peaceful solutions to disputes—the more power they had. But Nevin’s instincts told him they couldn’t be trusted. He needed to know why, and he needed an advantage—one which only a seer could provide.
“My baby,” cried an impoverished elf woman with hardly any teeth. As Nevin passed her on the dark street, she clutched her stomach and rocked back and forth. “Won’t you spare some change to save my unborn baby?”
Nevin kept his face low, not wanting to be recognized in such a place. If he was, he could always say he was trying to help the desolates who called Zhuang Avenue home. But still, he needed to keep his distance. This place was a hotspot for a magical virus that was sweeping across the world, leaving magicians, elves, gnomes, giants, and fairies as powerless as mortals.
The politician shuddered at the idea and kept his distance from the elf who didn’t look healthy enough to have conceived a child. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head as he headed into a shop where a mostly burned out neon sign advertised fortune-telling.
The front windows were covered in grime and cobwebs. A strong scent of incense mixed with mold hit Nevin’s nose as he entered. He nearly gagged from the combination.
He almost lost his nerve when the old blind woman looked up from the round table in the middle of the shop. Her face was lined with deep wrinkles, and black bags hung under her white eyes. Worse than the sight of the seer was the rattlesnake on the floor next to her, shaking its tail and flicking its tongue at him.
“I’ve been expecting you,” the woman said in a hoarse voice. She looked straight at Nevin.
“Yeah, well—” Nevin found his own voice scratchy and low.
“You can put the money in the tin on the shelf.” The seer pointed a withered finger at the wall where a rusted box sat partially open.
“How much?” he asked, pulling out the cash.
“All of it,” she replied.
He gawked at the old woman, making the snake tilt forward suddenly. “But that’s—”
“One-thousand dollars,” she interrupted. “Yes, I know. I’ll take it all. But next time, bring more.”
Careful to not touch much of the box, Nevin deposited the stack of bills. “There won’t be a next time.”
The seer’s face contorted oddly when she laughed. “Next time, bring more,” she repeated.
“You know why I’m here.” This was more of a statement than a question.
“Sit,” the woman said. She nodded at the other side of the table covered in thick fabrics stained with candle wax.
Nevin eyed the rattlesnake, who was still flicking its tail repeatedly.
“I’d tell you he doesn’t bite, but we both know it’s a lie,” the seer told him, indicating the snake sitting beside her like a loyal dog.
“I’ll stand,” he replied.
“Yeah, after your accident, you’ll be happy that you used your legs when you could,” she commented with a cough.
This was exactly why seers were shunned. They said things like that and caused panic. No one ever knew whether to believe them or not, which made them the most untrustworthy people in the world.
“What accident?” Nevin asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he ran his hands over his salt and pepper hair.
The seer shrugged. “I will tell you if you wish, but that won’t help you to avoid it.”
Another reason seers were seen as worthless. History had proven that knowing the future didn’t mean it could be avoided. Nevin wasn’t there to learn of events he wanted to avoid. Just the opposite. He wanted to know what was coming so he could use it to prepare his political agendas.
“Tell me about the Dragon Elite,” he urged, watching the rattlesnake twitch from side to side, somewhat hypnotically.
“Their numbers will grow significantly very soon,” the seer began, producing an impatient sigh from the politician.
This was as Nevin had feared.
“Many a dragon egg is hatching at the Gullington,” she continued, swaying like her rattlesnake.
Absentmindedly, he combed his hand over his chin and then reflexively yanked it away, not wanting to spread germs to his face. “More dragons, more problems.”
The seer blinked her face as pale a ghost. “Especially because half of the new ones will be evil, with zero ability for rehabilitation.”
“What?” Nevin asked, his eyes wide.
“Out of the batch of one-thousand eggs at the Gullington, half will hatch good and the others, evil,” the woman explained. “There’s no avoiding the evil that is coming. The Dragon Elite will save much, but they will also bring their fair share of problems to the world.”
“I knew it,” Nevin hissed under his breath. “Evil dragons. Five hundred evil dragons. They must be stopped.”