Read Bookworm II: The Very Ugly Duckling for Free Online Page A

of freedom grew stronger as he turned into a shopping alley and walked down, passing countless people as they thronged through the city. Despite the weather, many of them wore traditional clothes from their part of the Empire, some of them completely covered and others barely wearing anything at all. Johan had to remind himself not to stare; unlike his other brothers, he had few opportunities to meet girls. Who would want to marry a powerless?
    He bought himself a sweet treat from a vendor and walked onwards, nibbling at it and trying to make it last. Charity had given him a surprising amount of money, but he would still need to eat dinner ... unless he went home early. But his father would be raging and Johan didn’t want to face him any sooner than strictly necessary. Instead, he found himself walking towards the Imperial Palace, feeling a flicker of bitter envy. If he’d been born a magician, like the rest of his family, he might have one day risen to be Grand Sorcerer. But instead, he would always be below the rest of them – and everyone else who had magic. The thought tormented him as he turned to look at the gates. There was a small crowd gathered outside, shouting slogans and trying to pull onlookers into their protest.
    Puzzled, Johan stepped closer. His father had muttered things about protest movements and other insecurities in the wake of ... whatever had happened to reduce part of the city to rubble, but he hadn’t gone into detail. Jamal had been sneering, of course, and Johan had long since learned not to pay attention to Jamal’s sneering. It inevitably turned into an attack on his younger and powerless brother. Johan found it hard to understand why Jamal, who would inherit their father’s position even if his brother hadn’t been powerless, was such an asshole, but maybe it came from his sense of entitlement. Whatever Jamal wanted, Jamal got. Even the occasional thrashing from their father hadn’t been enough to cure him of his tendency to bully.
    “Hey,” a young voice said. “You want one of these?”
    Johan turned to see a young lady, wearing a green dress that exposed the tops of her breasts. He found himself tongue-tied as she smiled at him, then pressed a piece of paper into his hand. Johan took it automatically, then watched as she twirled away and headed towards the next curious onlooker. Someone must have charmed her dress, he realised; it clung to her in all the right places, but hinted at her curves rather than revealed. Charity had had something similar until their mother had seen her and thrown a fit.
    He tore his gaze away from the girl and looked down at the piece of paper. It was surprisingly simple – and seditious. It asked, openly, why rule by magicians was the natural order; why should those without magic be governed by those with magic? Where was the justice, it asked, in granting one group of people power over others? After all, the writer went on to say, a strong man was not automatically considered superior to all other men.
    Johan knew what his father would say if he read the paper. He would be openly sarcastic, mocking the writer for daydreaming of a world without magic. What was the old joke? The human race was improved when a swordsman took up arms against a magician, no matter the outcome. A swordsman would be quickly killed by any capable magician ... and if the magician was killed himself, he was clearly too stupid or weak to use magic. It would be a very poor magician who lost to a swordsman.
    “There is no magic in the Iron Dragons that take people from kingdom to kingdom,” a voice thundered. Johan turned to see a blonde-haired man, standing on a box and addressing the crowd. “There is no magic in the aqueducts that supply the Empire with water. There is no magic in the printing presses that provide us with our reading material. There is no magic ...”
    Johan listened, feeling oddly hopeful. It was true; magic was powerful, but it was not the be-all and