Deceived by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 6)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Actually, it hasn’t,” Director Chen said in that voice of hers that was like the smooth, polished surface of a lake. “Garai is much the same today as it was even three hundred years ago, when the late Mage-Emperor ascended his throne. Steeped in tradition and unwelcoming to outsiders unless invited. We should be very careful to mind our manners during this visit.” Her dark eyes slid to mine, and I knew that statement was directed more at me than Toring. “Diplomatic immunity will only get you so far.”

  “I know,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. I couldn’t really blame her for being concerned about me—though I’d studied up as best I could about Garaian customs over the past few days, I doubted it was enough for a diplomatic mission, or that I would remember everything. I would have to rely on Director Chen, and Iannis, to guide me as far as what was or was not appropriate. Much as I hated the thought, the best course of action was probably for me to keep my mouth shut, and do a lot of smiling and nodding.

  The carriage brought us to the docks, and we headed up the gangway and onto the main deck. The guards on board had already unpacked the flying machine and brought it up to the deck. My eyes widened as I got a good look at it.

  “It’s so small,” I exclaimed as we approached the apparatus. It stood barely a foot taller than Iannis, and looked a lot like an overgrown metal beetle, with a stocky, round body, and short wings that looked like they could be folded down and tucked away. “I don’t think this can fit more than four people.”

  “That is supposed to be the maximum passenger load, but since there is no copilot, we can squeeze in a fifth,” Toring said confidently as the pilot slid the door open so that we could look inside the cabin. The Director stroked a hand down the shiny green metal paneling covering the machine’s side, a look of pride on his face. “We just won’t be able to take very many supplies, to compensate for the extra weight.”

  “Is that accounting for my long legs?” Iannis asked dubiously as he peered inside. “I imagine this will be a very cramped flight.”

  “Comfort must be sacrificed for economy sometimes,” Toring said coolly, with just a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  “Of course,” Iannis said, and something about the way he said it made me wonder if he was just yanking Toring’s chain. I suppressed a smirk at the thought.

  “How exactly does this thing work?” I asked, giving the aircraft a critical eye. “It doesn’t seem like it’s steam-powered, judging by the lack of vents or furnace.”

  “It is powered by a special magitech battery that cost a small fortune,” Toring explained. “The battery powers the wings, which rotate very fast and are almost silent. Human ears would not be able to detect us once we are at full altitude, though perhaps a shifter might if they were paying close attention.”

  “We’ve field-tested this aircraft three times now,” the pilot said, patting its shiny nose. “And she’s performed very well. I’ve studied and memorized the map of Garai, and, based on my calculations, I believe I can get you from Bilai to Leniang Port in three days, even if we can only fly by the cover of darkness. Since our craft is so small and faster than the average airship, it might even be feasible to use it during the day.” He tipped his hat toward me, then added in a more subdued voice, “Those were my colleagues who disappeared out there, and I want to find out what happened to them, more than anyone else. I’m just as invested in the safety of this craft as you are.”

  “Of course,” I said, hiding my surprise as I remembered that he was a mage. I had forgotten, as his demeanor was so different from the other mages, and he was dressed in a white shirt, suspenders, corduroy pants, and boots—quite unlike what a typical mage would wear. Guess he took this whole ‘secret agent’ thing seriously.

  Even so, Iannis and Director Chen insisted that they imbue the craft with their strongest protection spells before embarking on it. Toring seemed slightly insulted, but he agreed—after all, it would be silly to refuse. He needed us to come along, and that meant putting us at ease about flying in a strange country in what amounted to a glorified beetle.

  Did life really always have to be so exciting?

  As soon as we returned to the Palace, I made a quick stop at my room, then hurried down to the library to see Janta. I’d yet to return the gulaya I had borrowed from her weeks ago, and I wanted to do so now since I wasn’t going to see her again for another three months.

  Besides, I’d grown fond of the very helpful librarian mage, and she deserved a proper goodbye since I was heading off into danger again. There was always a chance that I wouldn’t come back, though I didn’t like to dwell on that sort of thing.

  The door to the library was locked, but not warded, so I assumed the staff was in there doing after-hours work before they went home. I muttered the Words of an unlocking spell, and after the resulting click, turned the ornate brass handle and entered the room. Two servants were dusting the tables and shelves, and they started as the door swung open.

  “Miss Baine!” the one nearest to me, a woman, exclaimed. She dipped into a curtsy, her duster still dangling from her fingertips. “How can I help you?”

  I asked her if Janta was here, and after confirming that she was, picked my way through the shelves toward her office at the back of the library. It was a stylish but comfortable space, with birch-wood furniture and paintings of cityscapes, the visitors’ chairs fitted with powder-blue cushions that invited the visitor to sit and have a conversation, unlike a certain woman I knew with uncomfortable dragon carvings in her furniture that liked to gouge into one’s back.

  “I came to return this,” I said once we’d exchanged greetings, removing the gulaya from one of the pouches on my belt. I felt a twinge of nostalgia as I offered the small, star-shaped object to her. It had saved my life, whisking me to a deserted island an instant before Petros Yantz almost sliced into me with a silver knife. It was on that island I’d made love to Iannis for the first time. Heat flooded my body as the hot, sultry images of that night flitted through my mind, and I cleared my throat, pushing them away. Now was not the time to get hot and bothered.

  “Oh, thank you,” Janta said, surprised and pleased. “I suppose you’ve no use for this now, since you’ve used up the charge?” Her eyes twinkled knowingly.

  “Umm, yeah.” I smiled sheepishly at her. “It came in handy, but I’m not going to be needing it again.”

  “It’s a pity we don’t have one that could bring you straight back here, should you run into trouble in Garai,” Janta said with a little sigh.

  “Maybe we will someday,” I said, smiling. “The Chief Mage is looking for an enterprising mage who would be interested in producing and recharging gulayas, now that we have discovered a legal method to do it. Hopefully these old ones will become useful once more, and we can have new ones made.”

  “How interesting! But I don’t think we should restrict knowledge of this new method to Canalo. It should be published across the whole Federation.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. I had a feeling Iannis had his reasons for not wanting to do so, at least not right away. At another time I would have thought to ask him about it, but there were more important things to think about right now.

  “Anyway, I worry about you going on such a long trip, Sunaya,” Janta admitted. “I hope that things go smoothly for you.”

  “I’ll be with Lord Iannis and several other highly trained mages,” I reassured her, surprised at her concern. “Besides, it’s just a funeral. I don’t think we’re going to run into that much trouble.” I felt only a slight twinge of guilt at omitting the rest of our plan—after all, a secret was a secret.

  Janta’s lips curved into a wry smile. “I may spend my time poring over old manuscripts, but I was not born yesterday, Sunaya,” she said, sounding amused. “I doubt the Minister is inviting you and Lord Iannis along just for the pleasure of your company. But in any case, it is not the funeral itself, nor whatever other festivities, that I am concerned about. I am worried because there will be Heads
of State from many other countries attending, including, very likely, your father.”

  Cold shock hit me, like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. I gripped the arms of my chair as my spine went ramrod straight. “Are you serious?”

  “I would be more surprised if he were not present, considering that invitations will have been sent out to heads of state across Recca,” Janta said. “Such gatherings are considered a good opportunity for rulers to negotiate tricky deals or initiate favorable matches for their offspring and successors, so he might well bring his older children along too.”

  “By Magorah,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Do you think Lord Iannis would know if my father was attending?” I wasn’t sure what to do if it turned out he was there. Should I attempt to avoid him? Should I pretend that we were strangers? Or should I confront the elephant in the room head-on, and hope I didn’t get impaled on one of its tusks?

  “I doubt anyone knows the guest list for certain, not this soon. But I suggest you get hold of it the moment you arrive there,” Janta warned. “The better prepared you are, the better armed you will be. Do be careful, and remember what I told you about Castalians and shifters.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t expect miracles, Sunaya. It might be wisest to simply keep your distance.”

  I thanked Janta for her advice, then surprised her with a goodbye hug before taking my leave. On a whim, I told her about the talented children, and asked her to check on them now and then in my absence. Yes, Fenris and Rylan were already on that, but as far as I was concerned, I couldn’t have too many people looking after the children.

  Anxious thoughts about a possible meeting with my unknown father swirled in my head as I walked down the hall. But the anxiety was tempered by an almost overwhelming curiosity about what the future would hold. Was there any connection between Resinah’s cryptic warning and the prospect of meeting my unknown father? Was she telling me that I might end up fighting him, and, if so, to hold back from the killing blow? I really hoped not—the last thing I wanted was to end up in a death match with the man who’d unwittingly given me life.

  Besides, I told myself, even if you did end up in a duel, there’s no way you’d win against a man as powerful and experienced as the High Mage of Castalis. No, that couldn’t be it. Resinah must have meant something else. I just hoped it wasn’t even worse than what my imagination had conjured up.

  11

  Twelve days later, aboard the Voyager.

  “Much better,” Iannis praised, examining the wooden blade I’d magically sculpted out of a log of wood. “That was a distinct improvement on the last one, Sunaya.”

  “Thanks,” I said, grinning with pride. The knife he held in his hand was a far cry from my first attempt, which had essentially been a pointy wooden plank. This blade was long, with as sharp an edge as one could achieve with wood. I’d even managed to carve a little floral design into it. “Do I really have to change this one back?”

  “I suppose not,” Iannis said, handing it back to me. We were sitting in an empty room on the main deck that he’d cleared specifically for my training—it held nothing aside from a table, two chairs, and a small shelf with some magical textbooks. “But there is not a large supply of these on the ship, and I promised to return any we took.” He pointed to the small pile of logs by the door.

  Since there was nothing much to do aboard the ship aside from sleep and eat, Iannis and I had taken the opportunity to catch up on my magic lessons. I’d made good progress with my Loranian, and had mastered the juggling exercise to the point that Iannis felt comfortable with letting me practice spells that required greater control. Transmogrification was one of those, and over the last few days he’d been having me reshape logs of wood into various objects. Technically this barely qualified as transmogrification, as the real purpose was to transform an object into a completely different material, like taking a piece of metal and turning it into marble. But I wasn’t advanced enough for that yet.

  “Do you think dinner will be ready soon?” I asked, tucking the blade beneath my belt. Performing magic, as always, had left me with a healthy appetite.

  Iannis opened his mouth to answer, but he paused as the floor beneath us began to sway, faster than usual. I tensed as the boat shifted in one direction, then the other, then gasped as a huge wave rocked the boat very suddenly. Iannis and I grabbed onto the table, and I was glad it was securely bolted down. The wooden logs rolled across the floor, one of them smacking into my boot.

  “By Magorah,” I gasped. “What the hell was that?”

  “Nothing good,” Iannis said, rising from his chair with a worried frown. “It would take a very large wave indeed to rock a steamship of this size.”

  He opened the door, and I followed him as we climbed the single flight of stairs to the main deck. My mouth dropped open at the sight before me—the sky had turned dark, and the sea around us was very choppy. A cold wind whipped around us, yanking at my curls, and I snatched at my wooden knife as it was almost torn out of my grasp. The crew was rushing about, the first mate barking orders, and I was nearly mowed down by a sailor rushing full speed along the walkway.

  “Hey!” I snagged him by the collar and brought him to a screeching halt. “What’s going on here?”

  “There’s a storm coming, miss,” the sailor said, his eyes wide. He looked about nineteen, his freckles stark against skin that was pale with worry. “The Captain says it looks to be a typhoon! You and the lord ought to get below decks.”

  “A typhoon?” Iannis echoed. “We’d best go find the Minister and other mages aboard. From the look of those clouds, it might not be enough to rely on the crew. We may have to use magic to save the ship.”

  We hurried over to the Minister’s cabin, which was above deck and close to the bow of the ship. About halfway there, the clouds opened up, and a heavy rain began to pelt down on us. I conjured a pocket of air around us to keep Iannis and me dry, but by the time I got the spell going, we were already soaked, our hair plastered to the sides of our faces, our clothes clinging to our skin. Iannis could have done the spell himself, but doing such tasks for him was part of my apprenticeship. Though he probably would have done it anyway if he hadn’t been distracted.

  “Minister!” Iannis shouted, pounding on the door. He didn’t wait, but let himself in. “Are you aware of the storm?”

  “The Captain just sent a cabin boy to warn me it’s going to get rocky,” the Minister said. He was seated at the small desk inside the cabin. Malthasius, his private secretary and assistant, was there already, but the other delegates were nowhere to be found. “Rather annoying, considering that we’re only a few days away from reaching Maral. But there’s nothing for it but to put our trust in the Captain’s seamanship.”

  “Perhaps we can help. There is an anti-storm spell I know from previous sea voyages,” Iannis said. “For diverting a typhoon, it requires at least ten mages, the more the better. Since all the attendants are trained mages, we should be able to do it.”

  “Very well.” The Minister turned to his assistant. “Malthasius, please round up the others, as quickly as possible. Miss Baine, go and help him. We’ll meet at the bridge to confer with the Captain.”

  Malthasius and I did as we were ordered. Several of the delegates and all the pretend “servants” had berths below decks, so Malthasius went down to collect those while I grabbed Director Chen and Solar from their cabins on the main deck. It wasn’t hard to find them—they were already on their way toward the Minister’s cabin.

  “I knew it was a typhoon,” Director Chen said as we hurried through the wind and rain toward the bridge. Her teeth chattered despite the air pocket I was using to keep us dry. “I had hoped we would be able to avoid one, but, unfortunately, this is typhoon season.”

  I guess it was too much to ask the Mage-Emperor to wait until after typhoon season to die, I grumbled to myself as I pushed open the door to the bridge. It was a large room surrounded by windows that offered a three-sixty view of the
ocean, with various gadgets, dials, and levers that I couldn’t begin to understand. In the center was a raised platform where the helm stood. To the left was a large table with nautical maps spread out. The Captain and another man stood over the table, along with the rest of the delegates and attendants, poring over a map.

  “Normally I would tell you not to bother, as this ship is very sound,” the Captain was saying. “But I really don’t like the look of these yellowish clouds or these giant waves.”

  “Good, you’re here,” the Minister said as we entered. “We need to start on the spell right away.”

  “Lord Iannis, if this is the spell I’m thinking of, I can help direct it,” Chen said. “I am familiar with these storms, though the version of the spell I learned is in Garaian.”

  “Very well,” Iannis said. He waited until Malthasius returned with the other mages, then gave us the rundown. The spell had to be performed outdoors, on the deck, and involved the heavy use of elemental magic, specifically air and water. If done properly, the spell would direct the storm away from our ship. But we needed to do it quickly, because the closer the typhoon’s center got to us, the more power it would take to turn it away.

  After Iannis explained the procedure, and the first mate distributed stout ropes to all participants, he and Director Chen ushered us out and began guiding us to our stations. The deck was slippery now, the gale howling around us, and we had to proceed slowly, gripping the railings tightly. As soon as I got to my position by the starboard beam, I lashed myself to the railing using one of the ropes. Everything on deck had been lashed down or cleared away to reduce the chances of being hit by flying objects or debris, but as I watched the high winds batter the tied-down masts, I knew that our safety was far from assured.

  I wished that I could be close to Iannis, but he was at the prow of the ship, with Director Chen at the stern. Instead, I was stuck near Director Toring, the last person I wanted to be close to when facing death. I did my best to ignore him, and focused on the power deep within me. It pulsed to life as I called it to the surface so that it sizzled just beneath my skin, making my fingertips glow in the darkness of the storm. A wave crashed against the ship, soaking me to the skin, and I held onto the rope for dear life as water sluiced over the railing—I’d abandoned my air bubble to conserve power for the more important spell.