Page 7 of Arcane Entanglement

Movement above him sent his pulse skittering.

Evander smashed aside the dark magic bolts raining down on the staircase with his cane. The projectiles raised clouds of brick dust where they impacted the walls.

The first landing came in sight around a corner. A man lay on the floor, body limp where he’d fallen on his front. Blood trickled from a fresh wound on his temple.

Evander paused long enough to make sure he was breathing before leaning over the banister.

“We need a doctor!” he shouted at Shaw.

The forensic mage nodded briskly at the bottom of the staircase, a stone truncheon in hand. She spun around and retraced her steps, her chest heaving with her breaths.

Evander looked up and narrowed his eyes.

Their assailant was on the second landing and moving fast.

He resumed the chase, his body growing light as he called upon his wind magic. Currents formed under his feet. They carried him up the staircase, nearly doubling his pace.

A vicious oath somewhere above told him his attacker had clocked his new speed. Evander had no doubt the man had picked up on the fact that he could wield both water and wind magic.

By the time he reached the attic room the dark mage had run into, the man had disappeared through an open window under the rafters. A breeze carrying the sour reek and noise of the slums ruffled the thin curtains framing it.

Evander crossed the rickety floor and hooked a leg over the windowsill. A loose tile shifted under his foot. His gaze found the cloaked figure running nimbly along the ridge of the building.

Evander climbed out onto the pitched roof, stabilised his body with a buffer of wind magic, and went after him.

The dark mage accelerated as he neared the end of the ridge. He leapt across the fifteen-foot gap to the next building and landed in a low crouch on the roof, magic cushioning his fall. He rose and broke into a run, a smirk stretching his mouth under his hood as he glanced back at Evander.

His expression froze in the next instant, shock rounding his pale eyes and causing his steps to falter.

The icicle left Evander’s hand at the same time he jumped across the drop, wind magic beneath his feet and at his back.

The dark mage veered desperately to avoid the attack. He cried out and stumbled when the weapon found his left flank.

Evander touched down lightly on the roof and bolted after him.

The wounded mage gained momentum. Shadows misted the air around him as he called upon his dark powers.

Evander lowered his brows.

This bastard has no intention of stopping!

He accelerated, the tiles trembling under his footsteps.

The dark mage didn’t slow down when he reached the roofline. Instead, he twisted his body, spread his arms, and fell backward off the building, his cloak fluttering wildly around him and his eyes burning with hate as he glared up at Evander.

Evander’s heart leapt in his throat as he skidded to a stop on the brink of the drop, velocity tilted his body perilously forward. He pinwheeled his arms, slammed his cane in a groove in the roof, and stepped back, his boots knocking a couple of tiles off the building.

The clay slabs tumbled through the air before smashing noisily into the street below, narrowly missing a barrow boy and a butcher’s stall. The pair startled and swore loudly, the boy’s curse words painting the air blue.

“Evander!” Rufus yelled somewhere behind him. The inspector’s voice was full of fear.

He’d dropped all formal address in the heat of the moment.

“I’m alright,” Evander shouted back.

He panted, gaze sweeping the busy market lane.

There was no sign of the mage, nor could he sense any trace of the dark magic he had used against them.