Enter a “gorgeously realized world”* and meet a mage destined for greatness in the first novel in the national bestselling Alex Verus series. Alex is part of a world hidden in plain sight, running a magic shop in London that caters to clientele who can do much more than pull rabbits out of hats. And while Alex’s own powers aren’t as showy as some mages, he does have the advantage of foreseeing the possible future—allowing him to pull off operations that have a million to one chance of success.   But when Alex is approached by multiple factions seeking his skills to crack open a relic from a long-ago mage war, he knows that whatever’s inside must be beyond powerful. And thanks to his abilities, Alex can predict that by taking the job, his odds of survival are about to go from slim to none.... Praise for Fated and the Novels of Benedict Jacka “Harry Dresden would like Alex Verus tremendously—and be a little nervous around him. I just added Benedict Jacka to my must-read list.”—* New York Times bestselling author Jim Butcher “Benedict Jacka writes a deft thrill ride of an urban fantasy--a stay-up-all-night read.”—#1  New York Times  bestselling author Patricia Briggs “Benedict Jacka is a master storyteller.”—Fantasy-Faction “Fans of Jim Butcher and Ben Aaronovitch absolutely should not miss this deeply intelligent, morally complex, and action-packed series.”— Publishers Weekly Benedict Jacka  is half-Australian, half-Armenian, and grew up in London. He’s worked as a teacher, bouncer, and civil servant, and spends his spare time skating and playing tabletop games. Chapter 1 It was a slow day, so I was reading a book at my desk and seeing into the future.  There were only two customers in the shop. One was a student with scraggly hair and a nervous way of glancing over his shoulder. He was standing by the herb and powder rack and had decided what to buy ten minutes ago but was still working up the nerve to ask me about it. The other customer was a kid wearing a Linkin Park T–shirt who’d picked out a crystal ball but wasn’t going to bring it to the counter until the other guy had left. The kid had come on a bicycle, and in fifteen minutes a traffic warden was going to come by and ticket him for locking his bike to the railings. After that I was going to get a call I didn’t want to be disturbed for, so I set my paperback down on my desk and looked at the student. “Anything I can help you with?” He started and came over, glancing back at the kid and dropping his voice slightly. “Um, hey. Do you—” “No. I don’t sell spellbooks.” “Not even—?” “No.” “Is there, um, any way I could check?” “The spell you’re thinking of isn’t going to do any harm. Just try it and then go talk to the girl and see what happens.” The student stared at me. “You knew that just from these?” I hadn’t even been paying attention to the herbs in his hand, but that was as good an explanation as any. “Want a bag?” He put verbena, myrrh, and incense into the bag I gave him and paid for it while still giving me an awestruck look, then left. As soon as the door swung shut, the other kid came over and asked me the price for the second–biggest crystal ball, trying to sound casual. I didn’t bother checking to see what he was going to use it for—about the only way you can hurt yourself with a crystal ball is by hitting yourself over the head with it, which is more than I can say for some of the things I sell. Once the kid had let himself out, hefting his paper bag, I got up, walked over, and flipped the sign on the door from OPEN to CLOSED. Through the window, I saw the kid unlock his bike and ride off. About thirty seconds later a traffic warden walked by. My shop’s in a district in the north centre of London called Camden Town. There’s a spot where the canal, three bridges, and two railway lines all meet and tangle together in a kind of urban reef knot, and my street is right in the middle. The bridges and the canal do a good job of fencing the area in, making it into a kind of oasis in the middle of the city. Apart from the trains, it’s surprisingly quiet. I like to go up onto the roof sometimes and look around over the canal and the funny–shaped rooftops. Sometimes in the evenings and early mornings, when the traffic’s muted and the light’s faded, it feels almost like a gateway to another world. The sign above my door says Arcana Emporium. Underneath is a smaller sign with some of the things I sell—implements, reagents, focus items, that sort of thing. You’d think it would be easier to just say magic shop, but I got sick of the endless stream of people asking for breakaway hoops and marked cards. Finally I worked out a deal with a stage magic store a half a mile away, and now I keep a box of their business cards on the counter to hand out to anyone who comes in asking for the latest book by David Blaine. The kids go away happy, and I get some peace and quiet. My name’s Alex Verus. It’s not the name I was born with, but that’s another story.