Bridgeworlds: Rise of the Magi Read Online Free

pickpocketing, cheating, or lying—they are all skills that I’ve acquired over the years to attract marks. Who am I to deny them the opportunity to lose their money?
    He looked back at the wide mirror hung above the dresser. He was tall and muscular. His long brown hair parted in the middle and hung to his shoulders. Dark blue eyes, a prominent nose, a sharp jaw line, and a smile completed the face he knew could always charm the ladies.
    He looked again to the passport as he put it in his back pocket. I will regret having to leave Venice and all of its charm. But, as always my welcome has worn out and after tonight I will need to move on quickly.
    Myles heard a commercial from the television that used the tune of “Entrance of the Gladiators”. The Circus. Even now it seems like just yesterday.
    The tune took him back to Oklahoma City, when he was eighteen. It had been his chance to ditch his dull life of farm chores, homeschool, and honest work. Myles smiled. I hunted down that Grand Master and convinced him to hire me on as a stable hand. That night Myles had left with the circus. So what if my family grieved over my disappearance? I'd caused them enough trouble. And I'm never going back to Sallisaw, Oklahoma again.
    Myles went to the closet and grabbed an outfit still wrapped in dry cleaners’ plastic. He took it out, handling it with care. No traditional magician’s costume for me. From one thick hanger he took a black western trail coat. He grabbed several throwing knives from the odds and ends he had emptied onto the bed and inserted them into hidden sheaths in the sleeves of the coat. He placed a deck of cards, jingling coins, and juggling balls in other pockets in the coat.
    Myles heard something on the television. The International News Network was broadcasting. He stopped for a moment to listen. I think this is the special I was waiting for. A female announcer spoke. “For a man who's wanted in three different countries for Ponzi Schemes, blackmail, and identity theft, art theft, and robbery Myles Callaghan had pretty humble beginnings. Believe it or not, the world renowned con-man was raised on a farm here in Sallisaw, Oklahoma.” That’s five countries, actually, but hey, who’s counting?
    Really? They went to Sallisaw? Surprised it's on the map. She said renown instead of infamous… I think I have a fan!
    Myles heard a familiar voice. Dad?
    “Myles was always too smart for his own good.” He had not heard his father’s voice since he was 18 years old.
    “Myles’ father is the county sheriff, who also farms,” the announcer said.
    “Yup. By eight years old the boy could best anyone in town in a game of chess. I always told 'em he could do great things if he applied himself. His failures in homeschool never fooled me one bit.”
    Myles laughed. Beating anyone in that town wasn’t that great of an accomplishment, pop. That was like, twelve people, and they weren’t the brightest folks on earth.
    There was a familiar look on his father’s face. The years had been kind to him. Myles was the child that looked the most like his father and at this point in his life they only looked to be ten years apart in age. But Myles knew that look… His father looked down as he talked about him, he sighed a lot, and his eyes were distant. Disappointment. Regret. I know you think I live my life to spite you but it just isn’t true, pop. I just don’t know how to live otherwise… it’s who I am.
    As he listened he set the coat down and grabbed another hanger, from which hung a crisp white shirt. Over it he put on a crimson vest with silver buttons.
    Myles tried to tune out something like a plea from his father. He couldn't help hearing the mention of God’s forgiveness and his father asking him to turn himself in. Sorry, pop. You chose your path. This is mine.
    From the bed he picked up a pipe and a small book of matches. He placed these in the pockets of his vest.
    “Myles joined the circus and studied the