“Oh, Hells.” I hadn’t thought of that. When Falconers died, their Falcons had several days to get new jesses, or the innocuously lovely golden bracelets leaked deadly magic into their veins, slowly killing them.

It was never supposed to actually happen. Or at least, Marcello believed the intent was preventative only, to remove the incentive for criminals or foreign powers to murder Falconers. I, however, suspected the doge considered it well worth killing a Falcon to keep them out of enemy hands.

“Who was it?” Jerith asked, his voice strained.

“Anthon. He became a Falconer a year after I did.” Marcello stared out across the lagoon at the Mews. “His Falcon was Namira, an alchemist from Osta. They were on leave, to visit her family. I hadn’t expected to hear from them for another week. But they must never have made it to their ship.”

“What happened?” I glanced over to where Balos stood, solemn and still; I couldn’t see the sad scarlet bundle beyond the low line of rocks. “Did he drown?”

“His throat was cut,” Marcello said curtly. “He was murdered.”

A Preview of Thief’s Magic

if you enjoyed

THE TETHERED MAGE

look out for

THIEF’S MAGIC

by

Trudi Canavan

In a world where an industrial revolution is powered by magic, Tyen, a student of archaeology, unearths a sentient book called Vella. Once a young sorcerer-bookbinder, Vella was transformed by a sorcerer and she has a vital clue to the disaster Tyen’s world faces.

Elsewhere, in a land ruled by the priests, Rielle, the dyer’s daughter, has been taught that to use magic is to steal from the Angels. Yet she knows she has a talent for it, and that there is a corrupter in the city willing to teach her how to use it—should she dare to risk the Angels’ wrath.

But not everything is as Tyen and Rielle have been raised to believe. Not the nature of magic, nor the laws of their lands … nor even the people they trust.

CHAPTER 1

The corpse’s shrivelled, unbending fingers surrendered the bundle reluctantly. Wrestling the object out of the dead man’s grip seemed disrespectful so Tyen worked slowly, gently lifting a hand when a blackened fingernail snagged on the covering. He’d touched the ancient dead so often they didn’t sicken or frighten him now. Their desiccated flesh had long ago stopped being a source of transferable sickness, and he did not believe in ghosts.

When the mysterious bundle came free Tyen straightened and smiled in triumph. He wasn’t as ruthless at collecting ancient artefacts as his fellow students and his teacher, but bringing home nothing from these research trips would see him fail to graduate as a sorcerer-archaeologist. He willed his tiny magic-fuelled flame closer.