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

by Jasmine Walt

  Compared to all the other bedrooms in the palace, my room wasn’t very large. When I’d first arrived in Solantha almost four years ago, I’d deliberately chosen a modest room so as not to rouse suspicion or envy among the resident mages. Over time it had become even smaller, as I’d accumulated a surprising number of possessions. I only had a small wardrobe hanging in the closet, but there was a locked chest filled with odds and ends, including potions and amulets, and various other supplies.

  The true value in what I had left behind was my book collection—two out of my four walls were covered in shelves filled with texts, most of them magical, some of them gifts from Iannis on special occasions. I had sent off the most important items to a storage company in Osero during that time, when Garrett had been sniffing at my heels, and I had recovered them thanks to Marris, but there were plenty left. As soon as I walked in, I immediately began to sort through them to see which I wanted to take along, and which I might be able to force myself to part with.

  Why part with any of them? I asked myself sometime later as I was leafing through a book on magical history. Now that I was a free man who could openly practice magic due to the supposed relationship with my absent “father,” there was no need for me to haul all these books back to Abbsville, where I would only be forced to hide them away. Mina and I would settle down somewhere else, somewhere we could live openly as man and wife. But while we searched for that perfect place to call home, I might as well leave my possessions here for safekeeping. Iannis had let them stay this long—surely a few more months wouldn’t matter.

  Satisfied with that decision, I turned my attention to the rest of my things. My coin purse still hadn’t been returned, so I fished an old leather purse out of a chest, one that had already been pre-filled with wooden chips. I reached my hand in and murmured a transmogrification spell, and a few seconds later, I pulled out a fistful of gold.

  Highly illegal, but there was no one around to see me, and Iannis wouldn’t mind.

  I riffled through my closet to see if any of the tunics hanging there were worth bringing, and stuffed two of them, and a pair of my favorite boots, into my magical sleeve. I also took some of the rarer potion ingredients I’d left behind, and two magical texts that had some great beginner-level spells for Mina to practice with.

  Speaking of Mina…I reached for the serapha charm to check on her. It immediately glowed to life, reassuring me that she was alive and well, and the tug in my chest told me that she was still in the Mages Quarter. I wondered how her scouting mission with Barrla was going—surely they would have finished up at the Minister’s by now. I hoped they hadn’t run into any trouble. The Minister’s bodyguards could be rough with paparazzi.

  They’re fine, I told myself. The serapha charm didn’t convey much about emotional state, but I could see that Mina was in excellent health. She had a good head on her shoulders, and Barrla could be very disarming. They would be all right.

  By the Lady. I shook my head, smiling a little as I realized I was acting like a mother hen. I could only imagine how Iannis must feel—Sunaya put herself in danger on a far more regular basis than Mina ever would. I had worried for Sunaya at times, but it was nothing like the fear I felt for Mina when I imagined her falling prey to the many dangers that could still befall her in post-war Solantha.

  Footsteps outside the door distracted me from my musings, and I opened it just as a guard was preparing to knock. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, looking slightly flustered. “Director Chen asked me to fetch you. She is about to start the interrogation.”

  Already? I glanced at my watch to see that ninety minutes had passed. I had lost track of time, which usually happened when I was busy with my book collection. I followed the guard back down to the Mages Guild, and he escorted me to one of two interview rooms Iannis had set aside to interrogate persons of interest. Director Chen was standing outside, along with a mage guard, and she nodded when she saw me.

  “Good, you’re here,” she said. “Let’s see what Mr. Moredo can tell us.”

  She opened the door, and I followed in behind her. The room was bare of all furniture and ornamentation, save a single table and four hard metal chairs. The light hanging above the ceiling illuminated a swarthy middle-aged human with a thick black mustache and a shiny bald head. He had the build of a man who had once been in very good shape but was going soft since he’d passed his prime. I judged him to be somewhere in his mid-forties.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, raising his shackled hands. “How dare you bring me here in chains like I’m some criminal! Don’t you know who I am?” He was a good actor, but I could scent his worry underneath the bravado.

  “Maltar Moredo,” Director Chen said coolly, tossing a file onto the table as she took her seat. “Owner of Moredo Construction, and a rather generous contributor to several charities. We appreciate all of the recent efforts you have made to help rebuild the city.”

  “Well it damn sure doesn’t feel like it,” Moredo snarled. I sat down next to Chen, and his dark eyes narrowed in distaste as he noticed me. “What is this shifter doing here?”

  “While it is obvious that you are a charitable man,” Director Chen went on, ignoring Moredo’s question, “we have found some of your contributions to be rather objectionable. For example, you have been making regular payments to the Hope Fund.”

  “So what?” Moredo shrugged his broad shoulders, but his anger began to turn sour with the beginnings of fear. “I’m allowed to spend my money as I see fit. The Hope Fund helps orphaned children.”

  “Yes,” Director Chen said, “but the Federation has recently connected the Hope Fund to the Mills Foundation, owned by the late Thorgana Mills. That Foundation has since been seized due to its criminal activity.”

  Moredo scowled, the fear around him growing thicker. “I don’t know anything about no Mills Foundation,” he snapped. “My secretary likes to volunteer at orphanages. She’s the one who had me add the Hope Fund to the list of charities we donate to every month.”

  “He’s lying,” I said to Chen, and the man stiffened.

  Chen gave Moredo a cat-like smile. “Even if I did believe you—which I don’t, considering the large sum you give the Hope Fund every month—your company seems to be embroiled in other suspicious activities. It would seem that many of the workers you have been bringing into Solantha simply hang around the job sites and do nothing, day after day, even though you are in charge of several important, time-sensitive projects. Are you normally in the habit of paying people to do nothing, Mr. Moreno? Or could it be that you are paying them to do something else?”

  Mr. Moreno crossed his bulky arms over his chest, but I could hear his heart pounding furiously. “I’m not saying one more word,” he growled. “I want my lawyer.”

  “Normally, I would accommodate you,” Chen said. “But we know that you are preparing some attack on the government, and time is of the essence.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “He is lying,” I said again. “Let me try something, if you would?” I had not been able to use some of the more experimental magical techniques I had studied while pretending to be an ordinary shifter, but now that I was supposed to be Polar’s son and a hybrid, I might as well show what I was capable of.

  “Be my guest,” Chen said, gesturing at the suspect. “Whatever does the job.”

  Moreno laughed harshly. “Do your worst,” he said, sitting back in his chair and raking Chen with a sneer. “You can’t scare me.”

  I stared into Moredo’s eyes, and as the seconds passed, his sneer began to give way to terror. He seemed even more afraid of shifters than mages. “W-what are you staring at me like that for?”

  Ignoring him, I uttered the words of an ancient truth spell. Magic sizzled in the air around us, and Moredo shivered, no doubt feeling the effects. Pearls of sweat beaded on his brow, and he stank with fear.

  “There. He should now be compelled to answer the next three questions truthfully,�
� I said to Chen.

  Her brows rose. “Useful,” she said, before turning to Moredo. “I wonder what question I should ask first.”

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Moredo spat.

  “Question number one,” Chen said, as though she had not heard him. “What is the true reason you have brought in all these extra workers from out of town? I already know it’s not for construction—many of them stand around doing nothing at the building sites you have set up.”

  Moredo’s face went purple as he fought against the compulsion. “I brought them in as part of the Resistance attack force,” he finally ground out.

  “I see,” Director Chen said. “Question number two. What are the details of the attack you are planning on using these soldiers for?”

  Moredo’s forehead was shiny now, and I could see dampness seeping through the underarms of his shirt. “We’ve got a container of machine guns that just shipped in from Garai, and some fireworks,” he grunted. “We’re supposed to be distributing the guns to the men tomorrow and assigning them their stations. The fireworks are the signal—once they go off, the men will attack the Convention, kill all the Chief Mages, and seize control of the city.”

  I blinked, surprised to hear that this was the plan. The Convention venue would be carefully guarded by mages under Garrett’s command, so it seemed foolhardy to attack it. Had Marris and his friends been drawn here as mere cannon fodder?

  “I see.” Director Chen stared intently at Moredo. “Where are the guns?”

  “On the Taixing Shan,” Moredo said smugly. “You’d better hurry if you want to pick them up…my men are already on their way to get them.”

  With nothing more to be gained from Moredo—once his three questions were up, he refused to tell us anything more—Chen threw him into a prison cell, then ordered a warrant and assembled a task force to search the ship. We left in all haste for the port, where we were met by Garrett Toring and his own bevy of agents. Between all of us, there were fourteen people.

  “This reminds me far too much of our mission to Garai,” Garrett growled under his breath to Chen, who nodded in agreement. Sunaya and Iannis had told me all about how they’d blown up an entire warehouse full of guns located near the docks. I sincerely hoped we would not have to go through anything as exciting today.

  Director Chen strode up the boardwalk, waving the warrant the legal department had drawn up in record time and shouting in Garaian. I assumed she was letting the men onboard know about our intent to search the ship. The few I spotted beyond the railing scrambled hastily, and to my amusement, tried to pull up the gangplank before we could ascend. Garrett quickly blasted them away from the railing with a spell, and they went flying into the sails before slumping onto the deck.

  “Fools,” he muttered as we boarded the ship. A few other sailors rushed out from below deck, but their faces paled at the sight of so many robed mages, and they hastily put their hands up. The majority of the crew must have been ashore—there certainly weren’t enough here to man a vessel this large.

  “Their captain is currently at Varod’s Vixens, a brothel in downtown,” Chen said in a clipped voice to one of her agents after she’d spoken with one of the sailors. “Go and arrest him, and any of his sailors you find with him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The agent quickly bowed, then strode off with one of his colleagues to do the job.

  “Put the rest of them in cuffs,” Garrett ordered his men, “and let’s search the ship.”

  I caught a motion out of the corner of my eye and spun around just in time to see one of the sailors pull a handgun from the waistband of his pants. Cursing, I blasted the weapon out of his grip before he could fire off a shot, then tackled the man. He went down with an angry cry, thrashing and screaming, and I silenced him with a well-placed punch to the jaw.

  “Hell,” Garrett swore as he and the other mages immediately activated their shields. A few more shots went off, but the bullets dissipated when they hit the shields, and within moments, the agents had subdued the rest of the men.

  “Fenris, are you all right?” Chen asked in concern as I stood up, dusting off my tunic. “He didn’t shoot you, did he?”

  I shook my head. “No, and as a shifter, I can survive most wounds without much trouble. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Thank you for that,” Garrett said, clapping me on the shoulder. “You might very well have saved my life.”

  “It was nothing,” I said, even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. I was not sure how I felt about saving my enemy’s life—but on the other hand, I needed him around to ensure the safety of the city, and besides, he wasn’t really my nemesis anymore. So long as he believed I was Fenris, and not Polar, he was harmless to me.

  Putting the thought out of my mind, I followed Chen and Garrett below deck. Fanning out, we searched the cargo hold, and in no time found the crates of guns, ammunition, and fireworks.

  “By the Lady,” I said as I examined a shiny black gun with a barrel longer than my entire arm. “The idea of a bunch of Resistance soldiers running around with these is terrifying.”

  “Yes,” Director Chen agreed.

  After consulting her about a suitable guarded warehouse, Garrett ordered his agents to carefully pack up the entire illegal cargo. “Now let’s get these out of here,” he suggested, “before someone accidentally blows up this ship and gives the resistance soldiers the signal they are waiting for.”

  21

  Mina

  After Fenris dropped us off, Barrla and I spent the next hour walking slowly around the Mages Quarter. Barrla marveled over the grand architecture and the magical gardens—many houses boasted plants of unusual color and size that were the product of magical tampering. One house had a row of statues lining the path to the front door that would sing a cheerful hymn whenever someone set foot on the property, and another displayed clusters of large yellow blossoms that smelled like freshly baked pastries and made us hungry even though we’d only eaten two hours ago. We also admired the bell tree chiming softly in the afternoon breeze.

  “One would never guess that mages are so stuffy and highbrow, judging by some of these gardens,” Barrla said as we finally made our way to the Minister’s manor. “The things that they can do with their magic seem so wonderful!”

  I smiled. “Magic is wonderful,” I said to Barrla, recalling the countless times I’d used it to ease pain and save lives. “Just like your pastries and cookies are wonderful. But that doesn’t mean that all bakers who make pastries are wonderful, are they?”

  “No, I guess not,” Barrla admitted. “But still, you would think that having access to so much power would put them in a better mood.”

  I bit back a smile at Barrla’s naivety as the mansion came into view. I’d once heard someone say that the more powerful you were, the greater the responsibility you were forced to bear, and that was just as true of magical power as it was political power. More so if you had both, like the Minister.

  Unlike the day before, the gates to the Minister’s rented mansion were shut tight, and the courtyard where the press had gathered was empty save for a gardener trimming the hedges. Barrla and I observed the guards from a discreet distance, but even so, we were easily spotted, and two guards watched us with suspicion from across the street, discouraging us from getting closer.

  “I have a feeling our press passes won’t help us today,” Barrla murmured as we casually walked on, knowing that if we stood still too long the guards would come over to challenge us.

  “It’s a good thing we don’t really need to get inside,” I agreed. “There are guards everywhere—I don’t see how anyone hostile could get in.” Squinting, I focused my magical sight—a trick Fenris had taught me that would allow me to see magical residue in the air. The gates immediately began to glow purple, and runes flared to life around the perimeter, now visible thanks to my enhanced sight.

  “In addition to the guards, there are wards everywhere,” I said to Barrla.
“They seem similar to the wards set up around the Mages Quarter that keep out all humans except at the manned checkpoints. It will be very difficult for a non-mage to sneak in.”

  With nothing interesting to observe at the front gates, Barrla and I retired to a small, deserted park around the corner. We sat down on a bench beneath an oak tree, and Barrla pulled the ether owl that Elnos had leant us out of her camera bag.

  “Good idea,” I said as she handed it to me. The mage guards would not be looking for an ether owl—the owl was invisible unless one used magical sight, and they were not trained to look for it since it was a new invention. It would also avoid the wards, since it was approaching from above. I conjured the ether owl using the spell Elnos had taught me, then powered up the metal owl and looked into its mirrored eyes as its magical counterpart soared above the mansion. Barrla and I passed it back and forth, and for the next hour, all we saw were harried mage officials coming and going. There were no suspicious characters hanging around the neighborhood who might be spying for the Resistance. The only loiterer we observed turned out to be a neighbor out for a quick smoke.

  “It’s hot out here,” Barrla said as she watched a man with an ice cream cart amble up the path. “I think we ought to take a break.”

  “Wait!” I hissed, holding up a hand as Barrla started to rise. A black steamcar had pulled up in front of the gate, and Mirrine, the Forrane reporter I’d met at the Marwale, was getting out. “That’s Mirrine. I want to know why she’s coming to see the Minister.”

  Barrla shrugged. “It will all be about boring politics, I guess. Do you want a cone too?”

  “Chocolate, please,” I said absently.

  I watched Mirrine approach the gates as Barrla set off to procure our ice cream. As usual, Mirrine looked elegant, dressed in a sharp-looking peacock blue outfit today. She flashed her press pass to the guards and said something, and after a minute, they opened the gate and let her through.