Page 3 of Our Radiant Embers

“Thank you.” Well, at least one of us had faith in me. I raised my glass for a sip only to remember it was empty, and watched Adam take the stage.

The contrast to Jasper Ashton was immediate and obvious. Groomed since birth for this precise job, Adam had stepped up as the youthful public front of his family about a year ago. He exuded confidence and charm.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” His voice was warm and smooth, no trace of the biting edge it had held during our conversation. “The Green Horizon Initiative is a revolution. It’s a chance for us as a magical community to bring our unique set of talents to the table and improve the city we live in. To make it a better, more attractive, and sustainable place.”

He was laying it on thick. That didn’t mean he was wrong.

London was our home. We lived and shopped here, many with weaker abilities holding perfectly normal jobs because, guess what, lighting a cigarette without a match didn’t pay the bills. There were similar communities in Athens, Paris, and Rome, in Xi’An and Mexico City—big, old cities with preserved history and religious landmarks seemed to create ideal conditions for magic to thrive, even though its manifestation apparently varied. But for all that we lived here in London, we remained separate, our existence a secret.

Oh, there were some who knew. The political elite, for one, was informed upon taking office, two shadow advisors representing the magical community in cabinet meetings. So far, no one had blabbed. Whether it was well-placed threats, the fear of being dismissed as crazy, or a genuine belief that ignorance was bliss when it came to knowing that there were individuals with enormously destructive powers walking among normal people? Whatever the answer, it was above my security clearance.

The Green Horizon Initiative would mark a first. Under the guise of technological advances, it would bring magic into new urban structures, seeking to reduce the city’s environmental footprint. It was a revolution, albeit a quiet one.

Meanwhile, Adam had moved on to showcasing the Harringtons’ model, pointing out details of the three pilot areas—a commercial district that harnessed wind, green spaces that were designed to flourish under any conditions, and low-energy homes in the residential area, their walls infused with enchanted water to control the temperature. I was willing to bet those enchantments would require periodic renewal. Et voilà: service contract.

“The Harrington family has long been a steward of elemental magic,” he finished. “Let’s make this a new chapter in our shared heritage—one that respects the past while boldly stepping into the future.”

Translation: this is not a job for amateurs.

“Friendly reminder to control your face.” George elbowed me as generous applause rose from the crowd. “You can murder him later.”

He was right, so I slapped on a smile. Maintaining it even when Adam’s gaze found me, a smug glint in his eyes, took some dedicated effort. I didn’t get nearly enough credit for my self-restraint.

“I don’t want to murder him,” I told George in an undertone while Marissa De Gendt got ready for her turn. “Maim him a little, maybe. In a way that aligns with my pacifist values.”

George snorted, though not unkindly. “Says the guy selling weapons to half the room.”

It was a gross exaggeration, as he knew well. We’d become friends back in uni when we’d picked the same elective, and he’d been right there when my initial excitement about the Aqua Reclaimer had made room for a growing sense of unease. Sure, it had been gratifying to prove them all wrong—magic and modern technology can be melded, see? The respect had been particularly nice given my elemental magic potential was…unimpressive. I had a little bit of everything, which was exceedingly rare, but not enough of anything to be truly useful. At least not until I’d put my engineering degree to good use and combined my understanding of what made things work with my understanding of how magic flowed.

But I didn’t want to be the guy handing out deadly tools to the highest bidder. We’d pivoted to security tech and were doing okay, certainly enough to pay the mortgage on our home and the attached workshop. Yet as my brother Jack liked to point out, we could be making fifty times that if we’d had no moral qualms. Too bad we’d been raised with values.

This pitch, though? It was my shot to expand our portfolio of offerings.

Marissa De Gendt cut a striking figure on stage—short of stature but with an energy that commandeered attention. An ancient family of earth mages with ties into all sorts of high-society circles, the De Gendts were the Harringtons’ only serious competition, so I really hoped they’d give Adam a run for their money. And they tried, really, by modelling sprawling greenery and multi-layered gardens for all three sites. While beautiful, it didn’t measure up to the Harringtons’ proposal.

I suppose you’ll win this round, Adam.

Just like three out of the four last rounds, then. I told myself it wasn’t personal.

It was. Of course it fucking was.

De Gendt left the stage to warm applause, which signalled that my five minutes of fame had arrived. Right, then. Chin fucking up. I ran a quick hand through my light brown hair, fashionably messy—or so I claimed, though it was more a case of not finding time for a haircut. With a nod at George, I made my way through the crowd and pretended that I didn’t even notice the glances that trailed me like…Like something. Gluey tentacles? Brain freeze, bloody hell.

Breathe, Liam. Fucking breathe. You’ve got this.

God, I should’ve brought my family, made sure George’s wasn’t the only friendly face in the crowd. But my dad had no interest in posh events and my mum lacked the patience, Laurie was too young to handle the sharks, and Jack was better at communicating with computers than people. And anyway, I didn’t need them to hold my hand. I was fine.

As I passed, Adam arched a sardonic brow that said he knew I wasn’t. What an arse. Funny enough, the hot sting of anger propelled me up the three steps to the stage, and when I walked up to our model, my brain kicked into gear.

I’d practised for this. So much, so much.

Chin up, shoulders back. I might not be wearing a bespoke suit, no, but I had every damn right to be here. With a smile, I turned to face the crowd and sought out Adam, somehow buoyed by the open disdain that curved his mouth.

“Imagine,” I said slowly, enunciating clearly, “a city where modern technology speaks the language of magic. Where scientific advances enable us to go further than we thought possible.”

Intrigue and scepticism, but I definitely had their attention. It made me bold, and no, I hadn’t planned the next bit. But if it was offered on a silver platter? It’d be impolite to refuse.

My smile widening, I glanced at Adam just long enough to make a point before I focused back on the room. “Ladies and gentlemen.” I paused to indicate the model that had cost us weeks to assemble. “This, here? Is our proposal. And it isn’t just a blueprint for some buildings and a park, no—this truly is a revolution.”

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