Bound by Magic: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Baine Chronicles Book 2)

by Walt, Jasmine

  “That is enough.” The Chief Mage’s voice darkened, and magic began to crackle in the air around him, raw power sizzling in the shape of tiny blue sparks. If I’d been in beast form, the hair along my spine would have shot straight up – the Chief Mage only got like this when he was truly furious. It took everything in me to stand my ground – my instincts were screaming at me to lower my eyes and back away before he smote me with a bolt of energy.

  But I knew the Chief Mage wasn’t going to kill me. After all, as he kept reminding me, I was his apprentice.

  “I assure you Miss Baine, if you think I have been lacking as a teacher, you will change your mind after tonight. I will push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed in your life, until you beg me to let you out early.” His tone was arctic, a direct contrast to the violet blaze in his eyes, and a chill of foreboding raced down my spine as he held my gaze in silence.

  “Get out of my sight and report to the Mages Guild,” he finally said. “If I find out that you’ve been anywhere else, I will close the seal your father placed on your magic. Permanently.”

  I spent the rest of the afternoon stewing at the Mages Guild, which was a series of offices located in the South Wing of the Palace. Sitting in a cramped chair at a small table, I wasted the hours away prepping form letters from the Secretary of Agricultural Magic to go out to all the farms in the state. Stamp, stamp, stuff, lick.

  Clerical work. Day in, day out, I was fucking doing clerical work. Yeah, sometimes they switched it up, sending me out into the city to pick up supplies, or pastries for a meeting or event, but mostly it was just mind-numbing paperwork. You’d think that as the Chief Mage’s apprentice I’d be afforded some status, but Iannis must’ve told them to treat me like any other low-level apprentice. Worse, even. The other apprentices actually got to go out with maintenance crews every once in a while to reinforce the wards on the city or other magic-related tasks, but I’d yet to be chosen to do anything like that.

  Probably because you suck at spellcasting.

  I ground my teeth. I wouldn’t suck at spellcasting if I had a teacher who spent more than three hours a week with me. Just because I wasn’t raised in a mage family didn’t mean I was stupid. In fact, for someone who’d been forced to suppress their magic for the last twenty-four years, I thought I was actually doing okay. I’d used my magic to conjure fireballs, breach wards, and create illusions. How many apprentices of my level could say that?

  The hours dragged on, and yet by the time the pinkish-orange light of sunset began to filter in through the window on my left, I felt none of the usual relief or elation at finally being allowed to leave. Instead, a sense of foreboding filled me at the thought of my lesson with the Chief Mage tonight. I’m sure Magorah, the shifter god, was shaking His head at me from above for my foolishness – I’d wanted the Chief Mage to pay attention to me and I’d achieved that, but I’d also gotten more than I bargained for.

  Gee, what else is new?

  I thought about dawdling at the Mages Guild a little bit longer – a sure indication of just how much I was dreading tonight’s lesson – but I knew that being late would only make things worse. So instead I carted myself down to the kitchen to grab some food so I would have something in my belly before my training started.

  The scent of roasted lamb and freshly baked bread hit my nostrils long before I reached the staircase leading from the foyer down to the kitchen, and my stomach grumbled, redirecting my worries toward a more immediate need – nourishment. Shifters have a higher metabolism than humans and mages, and though that metabolism gives us stronger muscles and faster healing powers, it also means we have to eat a lot. I always kept food in one of the small pouches strapped across my body in case I needed an energy boost, and with the magic lessons on top of everything I was eating more than ever.

  My monstrous appetite might have had something to do with why the head cook gave me a dirty look when I walked into the kitchen. I grinned at her, and she shook her head, then ordered one of her juniors to get me some food. A few minutes later, I was sitting at a small table in the corner, wolfing down a whole roasted chicken and a pile of herbed potatoes. I moaned quietly as the juicy flavors saturated my tongue – by Magorah, but the Palace had excellent food.

  I could have gone to sit in the dining hall and eat, of course, but I didn’t want to risk running into the Chief Mage yet, and I also wasn’t totally comfortable sitting and talking with the other mages. They all had mixed feelings about me ranging from ambivalent to downright hateful, but there was one thing they all agreed on – I was not one of them. And no matter how good I got as a mage, I never would be. My shifter eyes and emotional attitude would always set me apart from them, even if I did put on a set of mage robes.

  As I ate my food, my eyes wandered around the wide, open space of the kitchen, watching the chefs hard at work chopping, sautéing and stewing. The glint of a kitchen knife being raised in the air sent me flashing back to the time I’d snuck down here to grab some food in the middle of the night – my first night in the Palace, actually. A group of guards had found me down here, and had decided to make easy sport of me. I’d managed to defeat most of them, but I’d been starving and depleted of energy, unable to shift, so in the end they’d gotten the upper hand. If Fenris hadn’t intervened, I might have died that night. He’d chased off the guards, then brought me straight to Iannis, who’d healed me.

  A hazy image of Iannis’s face looming above me, tight with concern, drifted into my mind, and guilt stabbed me in the chest. I’d never thanked Iannis for his help that night – I rarely thanked him at all, in fact, because I’d been so angry at the injustice of being held captive and threatened with execution for the simple crime of being born. I’d held him personally responsible for all that was wrong in our society, and sometimes I still thought like that. After all, he might not have created the framework in which we functioned, but he was still our ruler, and there were a lot of things wrong that he needed to fix.

  All of which takes time.

  Sighing, I handed my finished plate to one of the kitchen staff, then headed back up the steps and toward the West Wing. I knew that the Chief Mage had been busy wading through the administrative mess Argon Chartis, the former Director of the Mage’s Guild, had left behind, and that he was strapped for time. Yes, it wasn’t right that he was neglecting my tutelage as a mage, but I couldn’t have it both ways if I wanted him to fix what was wrong in the city.

  Maybe, but that’s no reason he can’t give you some time off to go and hunt bounties for the Guild.

  I fought against the urge to gnash my teeth, knowing that walking into the training room angry was only going to make this evening worse. But that was the whole crux of the situation – I wouldn’t be so angry about his lack of time to train me if he’d just let me do my job as an Enforcer so I could earn some money.

  I pushed open the training room door, then bit my lip when I saw the open, rectangular space was empty. Checking my watch, I realized that I’d gotten here a few minutes early, so I went and sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor to meditate while I waited for him. No, I wasn’t going to give up on my crusade to make Iannis let me go back to work, but tonight I knew I needed to swallow my pill and keep my mouth shut about it. I’d already pissed him off enough.

  Closing my eyes, I placed my hands on the insides of my thighs, then drew a deep breath in through my nostrils. I held it for a moment, then let it out, and tried to visualize my anger and frustration exiting my body along with the breath. It was an exercise Roanas had taught me, and one that he’d found useful in mitigating his own emotions – an important skill for an investigator. I’d never been as good as it as he was – I’d always preferred the physical aspects of Kan Zao, the Garaian martial art he’d taught me, over the mental ones.

  I scented the Chief Mage’s approach before I heard his soft footsteps in the hall – his fragrance of sandalwood, musk and magic was unmistakable. My heart began to beat a little faster
as the door opened, but I forced myself to take another deep breath and calm down. I didn’t give a damn if he saw me meditating on the floor – at least he’d know I was trying to control myself.

  But when his robes swished across the floor in front of me, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer. Nerves prickling, I lifted my head to meet his eyes, wondering what I would see. His face was as impassive as ever, but to my surprise there was no ire in his eyes – just contemplation as he gazed down at me.

  “Come,” he finally said, holding out a hand.

  I hesitated. “We’re not using the training room today?”

  “No. I have something else in mind.”

  I took his hand, and warmth flowed down my arm as he wrapped his strong fingers around me. He pulled me up in one effortless motion, and I wondered, not for the first time, about what kind of body lay beneath those blue and gold robes. He was strong, stronger than a man who relied so heavily on magic should be, and I was curious as to just why that was.

  As soon as I was on my feet, the Chief Mage dropped my hand, then turned to leave, his robes swirling about behind him. My hand tingled as I followed, and though I itched to ask where we were going, I decided to keep my mouth shut. If he’d wanted me to know, he would have told me already, and I’d decided to do my best not to be annoying tonight.

  I expected Iannis to take me somewhere else in the Palace, but to my surprise we headed out through the side entrance, where carriages and steamcars dropped off their deliveries. A horse-drawn carriage waited for us, and the driver hopped down from his seat to open the door, greeting the Chief Mage with a reverence and respect I’d never been able to manage.

  “Okay,” I said as the carriage rumbled off, its wooden wheels bumping over the cobblestones as it made its way onto the smoother, paved road. “I can’t take it anymore. Where are we going?”

  Iannis’s violet eyes gleamed in the dark interior of the cabin. “Somewhere I should have taken you from the very beginning of your apprenticeship.”

  I tried to get him to tell me more, but he ignored my attempts to pry information out of him, so I sighed and settled back against the suede upholstery. The carriage took us up Firegate Road, and I leaned forward a little so I could look out the window as we drove across the bridge. The huge red towers soared above us, and using my eyes I traced the cables that stretched between them on either side of the carriage. Beyond the cables, I could see Prison Isle, the watchtower attached to the compound gleaming brightly in the darkness. The moon shining overhead was brighter still, already visible even though the sky was streaked with the lingering pastels of the dying sun. It was only half-full, but I felt the tug of its power. Shifters had a close relationship with the moon – Magorah actually meant ‘moon’s child’ in an ancient language – and when it was full we were able to shift faster and more frequently than usual.

  Once across the bridge, the carriage turned onto a winding road that I recognized as the one that led up to Hawk Hill. My interest was instantly piqued – Hawk Hill was an excellent vantage point from which to view Solantha and the Firegate Bridge, but it was also frequented by mages, and wards at the top of the hill prevented anyone else from going past a certain point. Looking down at my hands, I wondered if I could breach them now, the way I’d temporarily breached the wards around Solantha Palace in order to save my cousin Rylan from his botched attempt to rescue me a few months ago.

  But then, I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to force my way past these wards, not with the Chief Mage at my side.

  The driver took us to the top of the hill, then parked in a safe, level spot to wait for us while we did… whatever it was we were doing. The wind tugged at my curls as I disembarked, bringing a faint touch of sea salt with it, and even more strongly, the burnt-sugar scent of magic. The hairs on my arms prickled at the enormous amount of magical energy here – I was unprepared for how strong it was, and I’d never felt anything like it anywhere else. Nervous, I turned my head to glance back at the bay. I had a feeling that whatever the Chief Mage was about to show me would change my life in some way, and I’d already been through so many changes in the last two months. Was I ready for another?

  “Come.” Iannis’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Much as I would love to stand here and enjoy the view, my time is limited.”

  Right. I followed Iannis up the hill, the soft grass rustling beneath my boots. The scent of magic grew even stronger, and after about ten paces he held up a hand.

  “Repeat after me,” he said, and then he spoke a Word.

  It took me three tries to get it right, but when I did, the air in front of us shimmered, like heat waves were suddenly rising from the grass. I gasped as a domed building suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and took an involuntary step back. It towered above us, crafted of some kind of strange blue stone that shimmered in the moonlight, with round, stained glass windows set into the walls.

  “What is this place?”

  “A temple.” The Chief Mage glanced back at me, amusement flickering in his violet eyes. “I didn’t realize you were frightened of buildings.”

  “I’m not frightened,” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m just not used to fifty foot structures appearing out of thin air, is all.” Holy shit, the mages had been hiding a temple here the whole time? What for? I wasn’t aware they even had a place of worship. I stared up at the structure, still flabbergasted that this thing existed. Golden runes shimmered along the edges of the dome, the windows, and the arch that framed the front door. The scent of magic here was thicker than in Solantha Palace, which was really saying something since the Mages Guild was housed there.

  “Come,” the Chief Mage said again, gesturing impatiently. “Let’s go inside.”

  “What is this temple for?” I asked as we approached the doorway. The wooden door looked heavy and imposing, but it swung open on its own, and I had a sense that the building was welcoming us inside. Which was weird, because buildings weren’t sentient as far as I knew.

  “It’s where we worship the Creator,” the Chief Mage said simply.

  We stepped inside, and I stood still for a long moment, taking in the space. The torches lining the walls helped illuminate the rounded space, as well as a circular skylight set into the top of the vaulted dome, and decorative pillars that lined the inside of the temple. But all of this paled in comparison to the sight of the enormous white statue that dominated the center of the temple. The sculpture stood at least thirty feet tall, carved out of pure white marble into the shape of a woman. Her long hair was unbound, and a set of robes flowed around her willowy figure. A large book lay cradled in one arm, and the other was outstretched, revealing an open palm facing upward from which a blue-white flame blazed.

  “Who is that?” I asked, pointing up at the woman.

  The Chief Mage gently laid his palm over my outstretched hand and pushed it down. “It’s rude to point,” he said quietly, and I stared -- he was looking up at the statue with a reverent expression I’d never seen before.

  “This is Resinah,” he said, still looking up at the statue. “She was the first mage brought into existence by the Creator, and was endowed with the power to transform humans, animals and matter. She chose twelve disciples to share her power with, and it is from Resinah and her disciples that our lineage as mages springs.”

  “The Creator?” I echoed, staring up at the statue again. “You mean Magorah?”

  A frown briefly touched the Chief Mage’s face. “You may call him by a different name, just as humans believe in the Ur-God, but I believe we all worship the same deity. It’s just a matter of which interpretation is the correct one,” he allowed. “I am not here to invalidate your faith, Miss Baine, but Resinah is a very important part of our heritage, and all mages learn her teachings very early on.”

  “How come Resinah and her disciples are never mentioned in any of the public school text books?” I demanded. I wasn’t devout, not by any means, but I’d always grown up with the
idea of Magorah in my head and heart, and in His place of worship it was taught that mages were simply the instruments He used to create shifters, and that we were His favorite children.

  “We are very… private, about our religious beliefs. The teachings of Resinah are not intended for outsiders, and are of little use to non-mages in any case. Additionally, it was decided long ago that rather than try to indoctrinate other races into our teachings, that we would allow you to keep your own religions. Not all mages agreed with this decision, but so far we have all abided by it,” he added dryly.

  “Okay.” I glanced up at the statue again, wondering if Resinah had really looked like that. She had a stern but classically beautiful face, and the book in one hand and the flame in the other seemed to emphasize knowledge and power equally. I found it interesting that she was a woman; in our faith the first shifter had been a female as well – Taili the Wolf. Females were the ones primarily responsible for procreation, so I supposed it made sense that Magorah would choose females through which to do His work. Much as I wanted to deny it, a holy presence permeated the air of this temple. It was like the presence I’d felt in Magorah’s temple in Shiftertown, except that here the air was also heavily laced with magic. Maybe Magorah and Iannis’s Creator really were one and the same, as he’d said.

  “Do you come here often?” I wondered aloud. “Do mages have a worship schedule or something, or do you just come and go as you please?”

  “There are certain times of the year that we gather, but mostly we come and go of our own accord, generally when we are seeking guidance.”

  “Does she talk to you then?” The idea was half-absurd, half-intriguing – I’d felt Magorah’s presence at times and thought I’d heard His voice once or twice in moments of need, but I’d never out-and-out had a conversation with him.