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Astrid Weaver is a twenty-second-century space janitor. Overqualified, underpaid, and currently scraping someone else's paint off a warship she'll never get to set foot in. She likes to make out that everything is a choice.
It really isn't.
When a mysterious cargo arrives at Gateway Station, and Astrid's long-institutionalised twin sister Sam appears somewhere she absolutely shouldn't be, Astrid does what any sensible person wouldn't: she investigates. The result is an explosion that halves a military space station, makes her bald, and introduces her to a realm of explosive space magic.
Now she's in a semi-classified facility on Pluto learning to control abilities she didn't ask for, under the instruction of a deadpan Ukrainian Magi who has made it very clear in broken English that Astrid should not, under any circumstances, "explode her". There's an ancient relic tied to a Salem witch trial that someone very dangerous wants her to use it so they don't have to risk it. Sam's mental health is deteriorating faster than Astrid can keep up with.
The Ether, the raw, irritable force flowing underneath reality, doesn't care that Astrid is stubborn, emotionally stunted, and running on cold Maccas and adrenaline. She's using it now. Lucky her.
Space Magic is a sharp, funny, and unexpectedly warm sci-fi adventure about found family, inherited trauma, and the deeply inconvenient experience of discovering you can potentially level a city block when you're already having a bad week.