The Deceiver | The Magicians

Chapter 1

One | Our Story Begins

The cool spring breeze tickled the back of her neck, lifting wisps of honey blonde hair up into the air. The pages of the worn, second hand, book fluttered as she read. Her perfectly manicured fingers traced the edge of the leather bound exterior, the gesture second nature to her now. The sight of Lilly cole with her nose in a book was anything but unusual. Literature had always been something of an escape for her, a way to leave behind the trials and tribulations of the real world. Ever since she was young, her mother fed her passion for reading and writing in any way she was able, bringing home a new story from every place she visited. It made the constant business trips, slightly more bearable knowing that when she returned home, Lilly would be able to tell her mother about her imaginary adventures.

From her seat on a park bench, she had a clear view of the others enjoying the cloudless sky and warm sun. The uncharacteristically pleasant day came as a surprise in the midst of a chilly spring. Everyone was taking advantage of it one way or another. It was a welcomed distraction for Lilly, who awaited a fateful grad school interview later that day, with the usual jitters.

It wasn't that she was particularly worried about it, just nervous. She'd always been an ambitious woman in her formative years, and it was no different at twenty three. An Ivy league school seemed the way to go for her. After earning her bachelor's degree in English and Comparative Literature from Columbia University, she had her sights set on Yale for her masters. Lilly had applied to some of the top schools in the country, and out. She wasn't sure why Yale was so appealing to her, but something about it had drawn her in, as though it were where she was meant to be. 

Lilly glanced briefly down at her watch, sighing when she read the time. She still had three hours before her interview. She had taken the day off of work, considering the time slot she'd been given, happened to be smack in the middle of the day. This meant that she had quite the slow morning in anticipation for later and a trip to the park seemed like just the thing to soothe her nerves. She only now realized that the time alone with her thoughts was making it even harder to relax. 

With a huff, Lilly shut her book, after placing a mark on the page. She shoved it gently into the pocket of her messenger bag and slung it over her shoulder. She began to stroll back out of the park and towards her home. She'd been lucky enough to score an apartment close to the little park in Brooklyn. The quaint, charming, brownstone was nothing grand, only a shoe box studio apartment, but the decorations Lilly had added, transformed the space into a calming oasis. Plants covered the window sills, framed by delicate white curtains. A tiny kitchen had been built into the left side of the room, a wooden table set with two seats placed across from it. A cozy, intimate living area had been arranged out of two puffy armchairs and a loveseat. It seemed she'd been able to find the only apartment with bookshelves, and every space was filled to the brim with her literary treasures.

Lilly sifted through the clothes in her closet, packed together like sardines in a can. She pulled an outfit from the mix and laid it across her bed for later. She gently ran her hands across the material of the little plaid dress, smoothing out the creases. It was a perfectly respectable ensemble, great for first impressions. After all, this was her future on the line. She wanted to make sure she pulled out all the stops for the occasion. She moved into her little bathroom, turning the handle of her shower until the hot water began to steam up the mirror, masking her reflection with a cloud of fog. She tried to allow her muscles to unwind as she stood beneath the cascading stream, but her mind was set into overdrive. The fact that she had three hours before she actually had to leave didn't seem to matter and she found herself rushing through her routine as though she were running late.

Forty minutes later, her silky blonde hair was loosely curled and draped luxuriously over her plaid belted dress, as though she were about to shoot an ad for some prestigious shampoo commercial. She pulled on a pair of oxfords, a pea coat, and scarf before snatching an apple from the fridge and hurrying out the door. The interview location was on the other side of town but she still managed to show up an hour early.

As she stepped up to the old brownstone, she was taken aback by the appearance of two people, standing atop the highest step. Both were around the same age as she. The woman had long chestnut hair, curled in loose ringlets with a red and blue plaid scarf wrapped around her neck, an air of confidence radiating off her. The man looked out of place beside her, standing stiffly at the doorstep. He clearly harbored the same pre-interview jitters, judging by the strained look on his face. His hair was long and combed meticulously for the occasion, he dressed in business-casual attire. A perfect candidate for Yale. They both turned to look at her as she began to ascend the steps toward them, her heels clicking as she went. Lilly smiled politely, before opening her mouth to speak. 

"Hi, are you guys here for an interview too?" The long-haired man looked uncomfortable at her attempt to interact with him, but his companion was thankfully much more social.

"Well I'm not, but he is," she explained, pointing to her friend, "I'm just here for moral support." She smiled at Lilly before introducing herself, "I'm Julia and this is Quentin." The aforementioned Quentin, shot the newcomer a forced smile, that ended up looking more like a grimace than anything else.

"Lilly."

"I didn't know there was anyone else interviewing right now?" Quentin looked her up and down appraisingly.

"Oh! Well there isn't. I just got here really early." Lilly chuckled, placing a hand delicately on the wrought iron railing.

"An hour early?" Julia asked, brows raised.

"I'm a bit nervous," she admitted. Julia laughed while Quentin just stood silently.

"We should - uh - head inside." Quentin piped up, putting an end to the conversation. "I don't want to be late." 

"Oh, yes! Of course, sorry." Julia and Lilly seemed to remember where they were and Julia hastily pressed the doorbell. They could faintly hear the ringing as it echoed throughout the interviewer's home. The three waited patiently, Quentin shifting his weight between feet and Lilly picking at the hem of her dress anxiously. There was no response, nor the slightest sign of someone stirring from within. Julia shared an odd look with her peers, before ringing the bell once more. No response. She reached out, fumbling with the handle, before it popped open, allowing them access. Julia turned back, shrugging with surprise before she entered. The old, wooden floors creaked beneath their shoes, announcing their arrival.

"Hello?" Julia called out into the seemingly empty space. They were met with the call of silence. The interior was beautiful. The foyer was lined with gold framed works of art, that Lilly was sure cost more than a years rent. A grand staircase wound up to the raised ceilings, leading to the second floor. The building was obviously historical and the many antiques added to the scholarly feel. Quentin closed the door behind them, calling out again.

"Um...It's Quentin Coldwater." The room was eerily quiet, save for the muffled noises of the street. "For the grad school interview?" His sentence felt more like a question rather than a statement, as if he was uncertain of who he was and why he was there. Lilly's eyes caught on a familiar clock in the adjacent room and she moved towards it, giving in to her innate curiosity. 

"Is that-" she began, but was cut off by Quentin's own words of awe.

"I don't believe it." He gaped at the towering grandfather clock. His wide eyes mirroring Lilly's own.

"Me either," she told him, "an exact replica of the clock from Fillory, those books were a literary masterpiece. I still read them." Quentin glanced over at her with shock. 

"You're a Fillory fan?" She nodded, still studying the ticking clock before her. She could hear Julia slowly making her way towards them from the other room. The floor groaned beneath her weight, but that wasn't what startled the two from their reverie. Julia's ear splitting scream sounded throughout the room and the two whirled around in panic. Lilly let out a startled gasp, practically jumping out of her skin from the fright.

The old man lay, draped lifelessly across the antique armchair in the corner of the room, his eyes wide and unfocused. The unnatural blue tint of his skin confirmed her suspicions. A shiver of fear ran up her spine from being in such close proximity to a dead body. This was surely the man who was meant to interview her and Quentin that afternoon. 

"Oh my God! Call 911!" She managed to choke out, gripping onto a nearby chair for support. Quentin quickly whipped his phone out of the back pocket of his pants, dialing the three numbers as quickly as he could. His hands shook violently, his breathing sharp.

"Hi, we just found a dead body and we need help, like - right now." He spoke quickly into the phone, rattling off the address in between his nervous stuttering. He shoved the phone back in his pocket. "They're on their way and should be here in a few minutes. Until then, just- don't touch the body."

"Yeah, cause that was definitely on my to do list." Lilly managed some sarcasm, though forced. She still couldn't tear her gaze away from the lifeless eyes of the interviewer. Quentin managed to corral her into the other room a moment later, where they waited in heavy silence for the police to arrive. As promised, a few minutes later, blaring sirens and flashing lights pulled up outside the building and the paramedics wrapped up the body. The police had already taken a statement from Quentin and they'd just pulled Julia aside. A blonde, middle aged paramedic spoke to the two remaining.

"Well, he's dead." She sighed, her British accent clear. "By the looks of him, he was a big--" She made a motion with her hand to symbolize a bottle. Lilly and Quentin shared a look, both taken aback by her blunt attitude. It was definitely not how they expected someone to speak of a man found dead in his home.

"I'm sorry?" Quentin muttered, more a question than an apology.

"Why? Did ya' kill him?" She fired back with a straight face. Lilly's eyebrows furrowed at the woman's manners and she glanced over at Quentin who sat next to her on the small bench.

"No. Jesus," Quentin was just as annoyed with the paramedic as she was and Lilly rolled her eyes at the woman.

"I was kidding." She smiled at the two like they were the ones who were being way too serious in the situation. 

"Not very well." Lilly mumbled under her breath. The woman's smile didn't fade and as Lilly watched her, something stirred in the back of her mind. There was something familiar about her. Lilly couldn't remember ever meeting her, but there was something about her that made Lilly wonder. "Have we ever—"

"Um, can we go now?" Julia interrupted from the doorway, looking extremely exhausted from the short questioning she had to undergo. The Paramedic diverted her attention to the young woman and nodded with a smile.

"Miss Cole will have to answer some questions before she can leave, but you two are free to go." Lilly's shoulders fell slightly once she realized she wasn't going to get out of the questioning. Quentin's jacket rustled as he stood from the bench and joined Julia.

"Bye Lilly," Julia said quietly, "It was nice to meet you, even if it was under such unfortunate circumstances." Lilly smiled back and waved at Quentin who returned the gesture. Just as they were about to leave, the paramedic called out to them, grabbing a thick envelope from the dead man's desk. 

"Wait! I think he left something for you!" She held out the package to Quentin who looked skeptical.

"Q, come on, let's go." Julia called and he hesitantly accepted it from the woman. Lilly threw him one last smile before they left out the door. The police only asked her a couple questions as it was pretty clear to them that there was no foul play involved and after a few minutes she was free to go. Grabbing her bag, she rushed out of the building as quickly as possible, not wanting to be there for a moment longer than she had to.

The cool air was a relief after being stuck in that building with a dead man, hordes of cops, paramedics, and their equipment. She paused for a moment on the front steps, glancing down the street to see Quentin standing alone, his back to her, the envelope still clutched in his hands.

"Hey! Quentin!" His head whipped around to see who was calling him. Registering that it was Lilly, he started walking towards her. "Where did Julia go?" He looked rather uncomfortable with her question or the fact that she was talking to him at all.

"Oh... Um, she had some errands to run..." He muttered, looking anywhere but at her face. It was pretty clear that was not the reason for Julia's absence. However, she knew better than to pry into the personal life of someone she'd only just met.

"Well, I'm not going to try and hide the fact that I'm very curious about what's in the envelope." She nodded in the direction of his hand and Quentin's face seemed to light up at the mere mention of it. Lilly had the distinct impression that if you got him talking about things he was passionate about, he would be a totally different person than the shy, socially awkward, nerd who barely made eye contact. He pulled what looked to be a manuscript out of the envelope holding it out for her to see.

"I think it's a lost manuscript for Fillory and Further book six!" Lilly took a minute to register the words that had just come out of Quentin's mouth, but once she did, she couldn't hide her excitement.

"Are you kidding? You have to be kidding?" She moved to look over his shoulder at the cover of the stack of papers.

"Trust me, I don't kid about Fillory." He told her, completely serious, "Look at the title."

Fillory and Further, Book Six: The Magicians

She read, eyes wide with the possibility that this might actually be authentic. The words were written in elaborate cursive and the paper itself was slightly discolored with age. "And look at the date," Quentin pointed to the date in the lower left corner. "1952" he read aloud, a giant smile on his face, and a glint of childlike excitement in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Oh my God." A smile had begun to curl the edges of her pink tinted lips, with the realization that this may actually be a legitimate manuscript. "If this is for real, do you realize how amazing this discovery would be?"

"There have always been rumors about a sixth book but... I never imagined they were true!" Quentin was getting even more excited by the second and Lilly couldn't deny her own excitement at the possible discovery. "Everyone in the forums is gonna go mad!"

"Hold on a sec," she held up a finger, "we have to make sure this is real, there's a library a few blocks away, let's bring it there and take a closer look before we get too excited."

"We?" Quentin raised his eyebrows at her in question.

"Yes, we." She told him, "If you think I'm going to let you leave me out of this now that I know, you are sorely mistaken Quentin Coldwater." He smiled hesitantly at her, before nodding in acceptance. "Besides, we just found a dead body together, I think that brings us to at least friendship level three."

"I didn't realize there were levels."

"There aren't," she began, turning towards the direction of the library, "It's a figure of speech."