Saved by Magic: a Baine Chronicles novel (The Baine Chronicles: Fenris's Story Book 3)

by Jasmine Walt

  I stared at him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Once again, I got the distinct feeling that he despised the Minister and all mages…but there was an undercurrent to his words, almost as if he were making some kind of prediction.

  Rubb shrugged. “There’s less than two weeks until the wedding, and yet the ‘happy’ couple is missing in action. That’s got to mean something, don’t you think?”

  And with that parting shot, he disappeared into the crowd.

  11

  Fenris

  My foray into Solantha Palace turned out to be a waste of time. First I had to wait twenty minutes so that some bored guard would allow me into the Mages Quarter at all—I was already disguised as a servant in Iannis’s livery, but had to use sleight-of-hand to make them think I also had the special badge that everyone from inside the area was supposed to show.

  It would have been easier to slip into the Palace without attracting notice, but doing so would mean that I could not openly ask what I wanted to know. Nor could I loiter anywhere for too long without being told to help out with the work. It was very different from my previous existence here, when I’d only answered to Iannis and had been his friend and adviser rather than a paid employee. I couldn’t help feeling strange as I walked these well-known corridors and rooms after being so certain that I would never do so again. Everything looked much the same, and I had to subdue a foolish wish to visit the library and say hello to Janta. I had much more pressing business—I couldn’t afford to immerse myself in old manuscripts as I had in the past.

  Through careful probing and discreet questions, I managed to find out from the servants that it was Sunaya who had left first, and very unexpectedly. They did not know where she had gone or why, but Iannis had followed, presumably to bring her back in time for the wedding. There was some speculation that they were on the Central Continent. It was lucky that Iannis had brought gulayas back into fashion, if they had in fact traveled so far away, or there would be little chance of either of them getting to the wedding on time.

  The Palace staff were torn between confidence in Iannis’s formidable power and fear that, for whatever reason, he and Sunaya would remain missing in the crucial period ahead. Everybody agreed that Iannis at least had left of his own will, and that whatever danger was keeping them from their post must be something quite extraordinary.

  Frustrated, I concluded that nothing more was to be learned here. Hopefully they had joined up, wherever they were—Iannis and Sunaya made a formidable team. When they returned, I would make them tell me exactly what had happened, but right now, another trip downtown, with a better disguise, might be a better use of my time.

  I took a cab across town, then ducked into an alley and changed my appearance to that of a large, scruffy man in his early thirties with beat-up clothing—exactly like the type of man who had accosted me the other day. I was determined to find out if those men were, in fact, part of some outfit being gathered against Iannis, and what they were planning.

  You may not find out anything, I reminded myself as I trudged through the streets, keeping a vaguely threatening expression on my ugly face. The locals paid me no heed this time except to move faster when they saw me, confirming I looked just like every other thug around here. The criminals who had attacked me were unlikely to know much—they struck me more as hired muscle than criminal masterminds. But still, I might yet get a lead to the brains behind this operation.

  Over the next hour, I observed several more people exchanging the hand sign I’d seen before. I was almost certain they were all part of a group—if not the Resistance, then some very large criminal gang. Sometimes the parties would keep walking, and other times, they would join up and go off somewhere together. After the fourth time, I moved from my vigil beneath the awning of an abandoned building and followed a small group. They never interacted openly beyond the exchange of signals, but maybe I would overhear something once they were in private.

  Keeping a respectable distance, I followed the trio of men around the corner, where they entered a building site. The place was crawling with workmen, but half of them were just standing around, apparently waiting for a foreman to come around and give them orders. It seemed wasteful, considering there were building materials and equipment lying around, but I couldn’t stay to investigate or I would be caught.

  The next man I shadowed turned out to be a better target—he went into a bar, where I could easily observe him. I followed him in and sat in a booth with a mug of beer and a magazine, hoping to hear something of interest. But the man sat at the bar alone, nursing a beer for a good hour and looking so bored that I wondered if he was just killing time.

  I was nearly ready to give up and move on, but something niggled at me, telling me to stay. So I joined the fellow at the bar and ordered a beer.

  “Morning,” I said as I discreetly flashed the hand signal—it was only a few minutes before noon, with no one else in the bar as of yet.

  “Morning’s almost gone,” the man grunted, returning the signal. “All this waiting is getting on my nerves. I’m this close to chucking the whole thing and going back to my grocery job in Osero. At least there I knew what to expect every day.”

  I nodded sympathetically, even though I didn’t really know what he was talking about. “I feel the same way,” I said as the barkeep set a fresh beer in front of me in a chipped glass mug that had obviously seen better days. “But I would kick myself if I missed the showdown. We both know it’s going to happen eventually.”

  “Exactly,” the man agreed, then took a long drink from his mug. “I’d just rather not die of old age before it does.”

  “I’m looking forward to the mages finally getting what they deserve,” I said, trying to sound out the man for more information. “They need to pay for all these centuries of grinding us into the dust.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not going to be easy,” the man said darkly. “I heard all about the raid on our compound in Osero—the mages cut our people down like we were nothing, even though we outnumbered them, and obliterated the whole site with some terrible magic weapon. I heard only ashes and rubble remained. And there will be even more mages here. Even if we take out the leaders, the others might still rally against us.”

  So there was a plan to take out the leaders. “Maybe,” I said, “but you can never tell with mages. The last time Solantha was hit by the Resistance, it nearly fell apart.”

  The man nodded, brightening a little. “That’s true. The only reason it was saved was because the Chief Mage and his bitch came back at the worst possible time. If we can take out all of the leadership, things might fall into place. But even if they don’t,” he said, lifting his mug, “this is still a historic moment, and I damn well want to be part of it. And at least we get enough money for beer and food while we’re waiting.”

  “Hear hear,” I said, clinking my mug with his. “Do you think the plan is viable? I have to admit I have my doubts.”

  He shrugged. “Beats me. No point in speculating when we don’t have much to go on. But give me any chance to strike at these arrogant mages, and I’m in.”

  I finished my beer and wandered off, annoyed that the details I managed to get from this beer-guzzling revolutionary were so vague. The man was probably just repeating propaganda he heard from the organizers—he had not struck me as particularly smart, and operational security would likely keep these grunts in the dark until the moment they were needed. The organizers of this plot clearly knew what they were doing.

  I needed to try a different tack to find out who the officers and financiers of this operation were. That they remained shadowy figures reminded me of the Benefactor—right up until the end, the vast majority of the Resistance had no idea who she was, or even that she was a she. The Benefactor herself was dead now, but someone had taken it upon themselves to continue her work. Perhaps some of her lieutenants, seeking to avenge her? Not that Thorgana had been a woman to inspire loyalty and liking, the way I remembered he
r. But then I was biased against anyone who tried to exterminate mages like Mina, Sunaya, or Iannis. Regardless of how I felt about her, Thorgana’s cause obviously lived on.

  My wanderings led me up into maintown, and soon I found myself standing outside the Ur-God temple where Sunaya had once listened to Father Calmias preach about the virtues of genocide. The building was imposing and took up an entire block all by itself. I had passed it quite a few times during my years in Solantha without ever thinking about its possible importance. How like Sunaya to infiltrate where no other mage or shifter would ever dream of entering…she had a real knack for running into useful clues, and I could only hope to do half as well.

  Doing my best to look like a human in search of spiritual guidance, I entered the temple and sat in one of the pews, bowing my head as if in prayer. According to mage tradition, the Ur-God was simply a different name for the Creator of all things, but I could not bring myself to actually pray under these circumstances, wearing my thug-like disguise. Would Resinah approve of what I was doing? Since I hoped to prevent bloodshed, to save her descendants, I could only trust that she would.

  The inside of the temple was decorated with loving care, with vaulted ceilings and garlands of roses carved into the stone. It had that hushed air of reverence that usually permeated sacred spaces. Several pews were occupied. From what I could tell, the faithful here were workers and businesspeople stopping by during their lunch hour for some divine guidance, their heads bowed and their hands clasped in prayer. My stomach grumbled at the reminder of the time of day—I would have to seek out sustenance soon.

  After ten minutes or so, I rose and approached a robed elderly man who was busy rearranging the flowers on the altar—a caretaker, I assumed. “Excuse me, sir,” I said in a low voice. “Is Father Calmias here today?”

  “I’m afraid he’s out right now,” the caretaker said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I was just wondering how he’s doing,” I said casually. “I heard a rumor that his teachings have changed since the Uprising, and I wanted to ask him about it.”

  The man frowned, looking me over with a critical eye—did he take me for a diehard anti-mage fanatic who would take issue with the more peaceful gospel the preacher now espoused? My current disguise might not have been the best for this place…

  “I wouldn’t say that Father Calmias has changed his teachings completely,” the caretaker said after a short pause, putting down the gold-plated vase he’d been polishing so he could give me his full attention. “But after a revelation from the Ur-God himself, he is now preaching tolerance and forgiveness toward all races. Rightly so, of course, as we are all the Ur-God’s creations, even if we humans were the first and original sentients on Recca.”

  “I guess that could be confusing for some of the congregation, since he preached the opposite for so long,” I said. I could see that he was just repeating by rote the gospel Father Calmias was now espousing—his scent told me he had mixed feelings on the matter.

  The caretaker nodded, apparently relieved that I had reacted so calmly. “Regrettably, the change has created a schism in the congregation. Most listen to Father Calmias, but a vocal minority have rejected his new teachings and left for other temples, unable to let go of the anger in their hearts. I pray that they will eventually see the light.”

  I thanked the caretaker for his time and left a small donation before seeking out a nearby restaurant for a hearty meal. After my hunger was sated, I strolled around in maintown for a bit, curious to see if anyone around here was using the same hand signals. But the humans in this part of town were, by and large, well dressed and civil—they went about their business as normal, and if some stopped to chat in the street, there were certainly no gang signals exchanged between them or any groups of them skulking off into shadowy alleys or seedy bars.

  With a couple of hours left until I was to meet Mina and Barrla for dinner, I had time for one last foray into downtown before calling it quits. It was late in the afternoon, and the streets were mostly empty except for a few loiterers who looked just as inclined to try and steal my purse as they did to beg for a few coppers. Dirty, downtrodden, hopeless, with nothing but a life of crime to look forward to.

  I wondered if Sunaya knew how wretched this place was, and if she had plans to do anything about it. It wasn’t easy to help the poor, since so many of them were resistant to good advice and suspicious of outsiders butting into their lives. But conditions like this would only breed more crime.

  As I passed a narrow alley between a brothel and a gaming den, a trio of burly men rushed out. “You there,” one of them said, and I was surprised to see he was an enforcer. The two flanking him were most certainly scum, and yet they weren’t in chains. “Have you seen a scantily clad woman running about?”

  “No,” I said truthfully, bewildered. “I haven’t seen much of anyone out here today.”

  The enforcer grunted, and the group shouldered past me, looking to be in a foul mood. I continued on, but this time with my eyes wide open, scanning the streets for the woman they described. About two blocks away, my ears picked up the sound of panicked breathing, and I caught the sharp, sour scents of fear and pain.

  Curious, I followed the scent into an alleyway. It grew stronger, even beneath the stinking garbage, and sure enough, I found a slight young woman in a short, torn, see-through dress cowering behind a dumpster. She jumped at the sight of me, banging her shoulder into the brick wall, and gasped for air. I held my hands out, palms up.

  “Shhh,” I said soothingly, noting the terrible bruises on her arms and her left cheek. “I’m not here to hurt you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  The woman trembled, clutching her arms around her thin body. She seemed too frightened to give me an answer. From the wild look in her eyes, I could tell that she would try to attack if I came any closer. Sighing, I waved a hand and conjured the illusion of a T-shirt and jeans onto her body.

  The woman gasped as she looked down at herself. “Wha—”

  “The men are looking for a scantily-clad woman, so that should help,” I said briskly, opening up my money pouch and taking out a few coins. “Here, take these and get yourself somewhere safe.”

  The woman nodded silently and snatched the money from my palm. She gave me a look of wary gratitude, then hopped up onto the dumpster and scrambled up over the roof of a garage.

  “There she is!” a man shouted, and I winced. So much for the disguise.

  I heard footsteps pounding on the asphalt as the men gave chase, and I ran back out, unwilling to let them hurt a defenseless woman. On catching sight of me, they turned as one, raising their cudgels.

  Three humans against one shifter—I didn’t need to use magic, I told myself as I grabbed the enforcer and threw him against the nearest wall. I had this.

  One of the other two was unexpectedly fast, and it was harder than I had reckoned to outfight two thugs with cudgels when I was unarmed. I was not doing too badly, though, and was just pushing their hard heads together when I heard a noise from the roof of the squalid houses in the alley, like a heavy body climbing onto the tiles. Before I could drop the two criminals I was holding and investigate, something hard slammed into the back of my head, making stars explode across my vision.

  I crumpled to the ground, my head splitting in agony, and heard the sound of a woman screaming as everything went black.

  12

  Mina

  After all the excitement at the press conference, Barrla and I went to check out the locations of the main events. With our press passes, we were able to access most of the venues, and got through a third of the ones on the schedule. Barrla took lots of photos, which we planned to show Fenris and Comenius once they were developed.

  The conference hall where the Convention was to be held was on the outskirts of town, in the middle of a park surrounded by a high fence. Barrla and I concluded that due to its isolation, it would be relatively easy to guard. Even now, befo
re the Convention had begun, we spotted a dozen black-clad mage agents prowling the grounds as we approached, repeatedly checking our credentials and watching us with distrustful eyes the whole time.

  “If anything does go down here,” Barrla muttered as we left, “we will be prime suspects. It can’t look good to them that we’re snooping about and taking pictures, and they have our names, too.”

  I shrugged. “We’ll have the Chief Mage and his bride to vouch for us,” I said, though I was a little worried as well. They weren’t back in town yet, and didn’t know me, after all. But they were good friends with Fenris, and I was going to have to bank on that if things did go south. And even if we were suspected, we were innocent, and the authorities wouldn’t have any proof saying otherwise.

  After that, we visited two of the reception venues, which would be harder to guard, as they were inside big hotels in crowded city blocks. Each place was large enough to hold up to a thousand guests and had multiple entrances, if you included the fire escape doors. One hall was being prepared for a different function later in the evening, a banquet for a large company’s staff and clients. There would be six hundred to sit down, a hotel trainee told us, but the area had been halved with sliding walls, while the other half would be used for a seminar the next morning and was being filled with chairs.

  I tried to imagine where I would attack, if I were with the Resistance, and easily came up with half a dozen scenarios.

  “So Fenris really knows the guests of honor in person and will introduce you to them?” Barrla asked as we left. “You are going to be moving in very exclusive circles, Mina. We’d better do some clothes shopping later on.”

  “I’ll be in disguise, most likely, since Fenris prefers to keep a low profile among all these mages. Besides, a thousand people in one spot is hardly exclusive,” I pointed out. How did Sunaya Baine feel about attending all these huge events night after night? I guessed she would be relieved to escape to the privacy of her honeymoon. I would be, in her place. Of course, nobody was giving receptions in Fenris’s and my honor. I didn’t envy her at all in that regard.