Deceived by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 6)

by Jasmine Walt

  Iannis sighed. “You are a grown woman,” he said eventually. “I cannot dictate your every move; I can only advise you as to what I think is best. At least you asked me to come along for this next meeting.”

  Haman had sent a servant to our pavilion this morning with a message for me, asking me to meet him at the same koi pond at nine o’clock. I could have gone without Iannis, but I felt like doing that twice would have been a betrayal of sorts. I was gradually getting accustomed to thinking of myself as part of a couple, a team. I imagined it was even harder for Iannis to get used to the idea, since he’d been single even longer than I had. Hopefully one day, we’d both learn to include each other in all our schemes and problems. It wasn’t a matter of trust, but more of habit—we were both used to relying on ourselves.

  Haman was waiting beneath the tree, dressed in cream robes with a gold-and-black pattern. His thick, curly dark hair hung free, brushing his shoulders, and there was a hint of stubble around his strong jaw. I tensed a little at the troubled look in his green eyes—he had bags beneath them, as if he’d been up all night.

  “Good morning, Lord Iannis, Sunaya,” Haman said to us, offering a strained smile. “Thank you for coming so promptly.”

  “Good morning, Lord Haman,” Iannis said, sliding an arm around my waist and pulling me a little closer. “We are more than happy to meet with you, although I am not sure you should be addressing my fiancée with such familiarity.”

  “I would never do so in public,” Haman said stiffly. “However, she is my daughter. Unless you would rather I not?” he asked, his eyes softening ever so slightly as he looked at me.

  “No, it’s all right,” I said, sighing a little. It was strange—all these years I had hated my unknown father, expected to hate him even worse if I ever met him face to face, but I could not help rather liking Haman ar’Rhea. Perhaps because he had so much of me in him. “Just don’t expect me to start calling you dad.” I wasn’t ready for that. Not by a long shot.

  “Why did you call us here?” Iannis demanded. “Sunaya says that you have an idea of who might have attacked her. Do I guess correctly that it is someone close to you?”

  “Yes.” Haman’s expression grew chagrined. “The knife Sunaya described sounded much like a knife that belongs to my son Malik. I questioned him about it last night. In the end, I had to use magic to get the truth out of him. He is a stubborn young man.” I could sense Haman’s exasperation. He was still very upset, and no wonder. “Malik finally confessed that he was indeed trying to kill you. He was acting on behalf of Lord Ragir, his grandfather and the former High Mage. Not that I’m trying to minimize Malik’s guilt. He is old enough not to have gone along with such a murderous scheme behind my back.” Haman’s voice was heavy.

  “Your son and your father-in-law?” I gaped. “But why—what have I done to them?” Iannis, beside me, did not seem particularly surprised. I remembered that he had warned me of the man’s ruthlessness when we’d talked about the ar’Rhea family back home in Solantha.

  “You don’t know Ragir; he is ice-cold, an absolute terror,” Haman said. “It was Ragir who dictated that letter Isana wrote to you. He hoped to place an assassin in her entourage if she was invited to meet you, but when he guessed you might be coming to Garai, he roped my son into helping him instead.” His expression darkened. “That he subverted my own children like that is unforgivable. I shall forbid him all further contact with them when I return to Castalis.”

  “Why does he want me dead so badly?” I asked, trying not to sound too hurt about it. After all, I had expected something like this, but still, to actually hear it…. At least Ragir is not related to me by blood, I consoled myself. But that excuse did not apply to Malik and Isana. I was glad of Iannis’ warm, steady presence beside me as I contemplated how my half-siblings wished me dead.

  “Ragir considers you a threat to the family honor, for all the reasons that you would imagine,” Haman said gravely. “I would be stripped of my office should the truth come out, and my family’s reputation would be in ruins. I suppose in his twisted way, he saw it as a necessity to protect his daughter and grandchildren.”

  “I assume that you are going to punish your son for his crime?” Iannis asked, fury simmering just beneath his cool tone. Anger radiated off him in waves, and I squeezed his arm a little tighter. The last thing I needed was for him to attack Haman, though I knew Iannis probably wouldn’t do that. He very rarely lost his head over anything. “I would hate to have to take matters into my own hands,” he added in a tone that made it very clear that he absolutely would do so if he felt he had to.

  “Of course,” Haman said tightly. “I cannot allow such insubordination, never mind the fact that Sunaya is my flesh and blood.” His expression softened as he looked my way. Iannis tensed slightly when Haman reached into his sleeve, but relaxed when he only withdrew a small velvet box.

  “Please accept this, as a token of my regret,” he said, handing it to me. “It will not make up for my absence as a father, or for my son’s deplorable behavior, but I believe you’ll find it quite useful.”

  “T-thanks,” I said, opening the box. Inside rested a gold ring with a square-cut emerald in the center. The gemstone flashed in the morning sunlight as I held it up, and the scent of magic tickled my nose. “What does it do?”

  “Aside from looking pretty?” The corner of Haman’s lip briefly curved. “It will help you tell friend from foe. When an enemy is near, it will grow warm, and when one approaches with killing intent, it will grow hot.”

  “So it’ll scald me in an attempt to save me?” I asked dubiously. With the kind of life I led, I might have burn marks on my finger in no time at all.

  “No, it won’t get quite that hot,” Haman said. “This ring is a family heirloom, said to have belonged to the First Mage’s daughter, our ancestress. As it is clearly designed for a woman, it has not been used in my family for some time. I intended to give it to Isana, but in light of recent events, I think you could use it more. And you are my first-born child.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you.” Touched, I slipped the jewel onto the ring finger on my right hand. It fit perfectly, as though made for me. “I will wear it always.”

  “Good.” Haman smiled briefly, then grew stern as he looked at Iannis. “Take good care of my daughter, Lord Iannis. I may not be able to claim her publicly, but I won’t allow harm to come to her if I can help it.”

  “I will,” Iannis said, something like respect entering his voice for the first time. “She is mine, after all.” He pulled me a little tighter against him.

  “I can take care of myself perfectly well, you know,” I said, a little cross now. I didn’t like the way the men were talking about me, as if I were a possession.

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Haman assured me. He bowed to us both. “Good day, my dear.”

  As Iannis and I watched Haman walk away, I leaned against him and smiled a little. His possessiveness might be a little much at times, but Iannis wrapped me in his love and was unafraid to stand by me openly in the eyes of the world.

  30

  Despite the happy note on which my meeting with my father ended, I still found myself restless. While Iannis and the others discussed the various treaties they had negotiated over the past weeks, I went outdoors, wandering between the guest pavilions as I tried to sort my thoughts. Yes, my father had acknowledged me, but I couldn’t quite ignore the sting of rejection from my half-siblings. Anger simmered in my heart as I remembered the way Malik had snubbed me at the testing ceremony. That the little snot had tried to kill me really rubbed me the wrong way. And Isana’s subterfuge was hardly any better.

  I’m so glad we’re going home soon, I thought, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The extravagant coronation ceremony had come and gone, and there were only a few days of celebration left before we could depart. The sooner I could put some distance between myself and my half-siblings, the better.

  My feet ended up carrying me to a
shell fountain that emptied out into yet another koi pond. The sound of water trickling, and the scents of blossoming flowers from the trees, teased me out of my angry mood. I sat down at the edge of the pond, then rolled up the legs of my pants and slipped off my shoes so I could dip my toes in the cool water. A golden-red fish popped its head out of the water, and I giggled a little as it nibbled at my toe with its rubbery lips.

  I shouldn’t let Malik and Isana get me down, I told myself. What happened, happened, and I would just have to trust that Haman would deal with them and their vicious grandfather. I would be back in the Federation in a matter of weeks, safe from Lord Ragir’s machinations and hateful ways, and far too busy with my apprenticeship and other duties to spare the ar’Rhea family another thought. Until such a time that my father felt it safe to reach out to me again, I would put the whole bunch of them out of my mind. I’d coped without them well enough for almost a quarter of a century, and I would continue to do so.

  My right hand began to grow very warm, and it took me a moment to remember the ring that Haman had given me. I glanced down to see that the emerald was glowing, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight on end. Acting on instinct, I jumped high in the air, just in time to avoid a blast of magic from Malik as he sprang out from behind a large statue.

  “Filthy half-breed!” he shouted, his tanned cheeks pink with rage. He said something else, but the sound of the fountain shattering beneath the force of his blast drowned out his words. I threw up a shield to avoid the debris, curling my lip as Malik hastily dodged a piece of flying shrapnel.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I shouted, hurling a fireball at him. He deflected it easily, sending it careening back at me, and I was forced to absorb the magic before it hit one of the trees around us and caused a fire. I winced—Malik was very strong for his age. “Didn’t your father tell you to leave me alone?” Fury rose in me, quick and deadly, at Malik’s unreasonable and unceasing enmity. What the hell had I done to deserve this? Wasn’t he the one with the name, the pedigree, the wealth and inheritance? How dare he act as if he was the one who’d been wronged!

  “As if I could!” Malik swept out his hand, shouting an incantation, and sent a wave of red magic rushing toward me. I threw up another shield, but I couldn’t deflect the attack completely, and the wave slammed me into one of the trees. I let out a strangled cry as one of my ribs cracked, and I dug my claws into the bark to keep myself upright. The rib would heal in short order—I was far from down and out.

  “Father is not in his right mind, giving such a priceless heirloom to a dirty shifter like you,” Malik spat, stalking toward me. Magic glowed at his fingertips, and a chill went down my spine at the cold hatred in his green eyes. “It is my duty to protect the ar’Rhea name.”

  “By murdering me? How very honorable,” I sneered. “It’s a wonder I’m not impressed by your noble rank.”

  “If I must kill you in order to get that ring back,” he hissed, his eyes gleaming with relish, “then I shall do so gladly. A by-blow like you has no right to it!” The color in his cheeks and the fervor in his gaze told me that he was in no mood to listen—nothing I could say would make an impression while he was high on anger and self-righteousness.

  “You can try,” I challenged, flinging a chakram at his neck. He deflected the blade easily, but the distraction cost him, and before he knew it, I was high up in the air above him. His eyes widened as I blasted him with ice magic from above, where his shield did not protect him, and he barely managed to get out of the way. Ice crackled across the earth, sending chills through my body as my bare feet touched the ground again, and I had to be careful not to slip as I rushed him again. To my surprise, he flung a small throwing knife at me, and the blade sliced through my left sleeve and upper arm before I could dodge. Blood trickled down my arm, and I hissed at the faint scent of magic mingling with my blood. Was this another blade he’d spelled, so that my wound wouldn’t close?

  “Enough,” I roared, grabbing him by the throat. His eyes bulged, both in fear and surprise—he’d obviously expected his knife wound to slow me more than it had. I trembled with rage as I hefted him above me—clearly, this bastard had underestimated me as a filthy half-breed. Fury eroded my control, and I slammed him into the dirt. His head knocked against the ground, and had it been hard-packed rather than muddy, that would have been the end of him. But no—he deserved to suffer first.

  “You miserable excuse for a mage!” I reared back, then kicked him in the balls for good measure. He shrieked in pain, and I only felt a twinge of guilt beneath my vicious delight. “You can take your ignorant opinion of me and shove it up your ass!” I kicked him again, this time in the ribs, as I grabbed another chakram to put an end to his useless existence. He’d made it clear that this world wasn’t big enough for the two of us, and I would make damn sure that I wasn’t the one to go.

  Stay your hand, a cool voice echoed in my head, and I froze before I could deliver the killing blow. Do not let hatred guide you.

  I hesitated, reluctant to let go of my anger. Was this the moment, the decision, that Resinah had warned me about when I’d last visited her temple? Some of the red haze cleared from my vision, and I blinked down at my half-brother. He was bloodied up now, his long-lashed eyes closed. Had I knocked him unconscious? His elegant clothes were splattered with mud and drops of blood that seeped from the wound on my arm.

  Much as I hated to acknowledge it, Malik was also a descendant of Resinah. As full of bigotry as he was, he was still young. He might still amount to something in his miserable, haughty existence, if I spared him. Or if not Malik himself, then his children or grandchildren. And Haman would be devastated if I massacred his son, regardless of the provocation. Shaking, I sucked in a deep breath, then dispelled my anger with it as best I could.

  “I could beat you into a bloody pulp,” I said to him, “but that won’t make me any better than a scumbag like you.”

  His eyes snapped open at that—or at least, the right one did. The left one was swelling shut. “You are no kin of mine,” he growled.

  “Why the hell would I claim kinship to a spoiled brat like you?” I scoffed. “The last thing I want is to be related to the likes of you. I would have killed you with no regrets had Resinah not prevented me just now. You owe the Lady your worthless life, Malik ar’Rhea, and I suggest you grovel on your hands and knees right now and thank her. I have no idea why she’d take pity on you when you only bring shame to her line, but it’s not my place to question her.”

  He gaped up at me, struggling onto his elbows. “A shifter like you would know nothing about the Lady.” It was obvious from the incredulity in his voice that the idea that I might have communed with Resinah was inconceivable. “Or of family honor, for that matter. You are just animals that pretend to be human every now and then. I can’t understand why Father—”

  The rest of his words were cut off with a burble as I pressed my boot against his throat. “Enough, asshole,” I growled. “Don’t you know when to quit? I swear it’s like you want me to gut you.”

  Keeping just enough pressure on his throat to silence him without killing him, I reached out to Iannis via mindspeak. “You around? I’ve found my would-be assassin, and I could use a hand.”

  “What?” His voice was sharp with alarm. “Where? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Mostly,” I amended as the scent of my own blood grew thicker. “I’ve already subdued him, out here in one of the gardens. Come find us, quickly.” I didn’t need to give him directions—he’d find us with the serapha charm.

  Iannis arrived in no time, and from his windblown hair and the slight flush to his cheeks, I gathered he’d used his Tua super speed. His violet eyes sparked with rage as he caught sight of my bloody arm. I’d ripped the sleeve and fashioned a tourniquet out of it, but the fabric was already soaked with blood.

  “This murderous little punk had another one of those magic knives,” I explained, feeling a little unsteady
now. The cut wasn’t very big, but since it wasn’t healing, I was losing more blood than I should.

  Iannis let out a curse in his native tongue, and, if looks could kill, Malik would be dead on the spot. Indeed, the kid looked like he was about to crap his pants, his face going bone white at the look in Iannis’s eyes. I tried not to sulk at that—Malik hadn’t reacted half as strongly when I’d been about to kill him. Guess I had to work on my intimidation tactics.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Iannis snapped at him. He jabbed a finger at Malik and growled the Words to the immobilization spell. Malik went rigid, his eyes burning with rage though he could no longer move. Even so, I didn’t take my eyes off him while Iannis gently unwrapped the tourniquet from around my arm.

  “You should have done some healing on this yourself,” he admonished me as he pressed a hand against the wound.

  “I couldn’t afford to take my attention off Malik,” I admitted as Iannis closed his eyes. Pain zinged through my arm as his magic accelerated the healing, but it passed quickly. In seconds, the wound was healed. “And besides, I knew you’d come,” I added with a crooked smile.

  “Always,” he said, his voice softening for just an instant before he pulled away. His fury came back in full force as he turned back to Malik “Your half-brother has a penchant for poisoned knives, unusual for a mage. I’m surprised you let him live, a ghrá.”

  “I nearly didn’t,” I confessed.

  Iannis paused. “Why not?”

  I considered telling him about Resinah, then shrugged. “Just didn’t seem right.” I wasn’t sure whether Resinah had plans for Malik, or if she’d just been trying to prevent me from doing something I’d regret later, so I decided it was better not to say anything.

  Iannis’s mouth quirked. “Your control is improving then.” He gestured brusquely toward Malik, undoing the spell. “On your feet, boyo.”