Burned by Magic (10 page)

To his credit, the Chief Mage didn’t react to my aggression; he stood his ground and regarded me with a disapproving frown. “It’s my job to ensure the laws that protect our country are enforced in Solantha,” he said sternly. “Uncontrolled magic wreaked havoc on this country during the Conflict. It is necessary to regulate the use and existence of magic, so as not to have a repeat experience.”

I scoffed at that old party line. “That’s just an excuse you mages use not to share power and influence with anyone else. If you’re so worried about people like me running wild with our magic, why don’t you set up a state-funded program to train us?”

“The amount of resources needed –”

“Don’t even
try
to tell me there isn’t enough gold.” His eyes widened angrily as I cut him off. I knew I should probably be afraid, but I was too riled up to care. “Magorah knows you and everyone else in the Mage’s Quarter are swimming in it. The real problem is that not one of you actually cares enough to take the time to train us, do you? That’s why you only give us the choice of having our magic wiped, or execution, whenever you find one of us out.”

The Chief Mage’s violet eyes glittered. “It’s a logical approach,” he said stiffly.

“It’s a
cruel, heartless
approach.” I took another step forward, into his personal space, and his nostrils flared as he looked down his long nose at me. The hair on my arms stood up as magical energy sang through the air, and for the first time real fear crackled through my nerves. But I couldn’t back down, not now. “That’s hardly any choice at all, since nearly all the people who go through the magic wipe end up with permanent mental damage. By the time the mages who perform the wipe are finished, most of the victims would have been better off dead.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “One of my childhood friends, Tanya, failed the test when she was just twelve years old. She was from a human family, and her magical ability was weak, so her family chose to put her through the magic wipe. By the time they were done with her, she could hardly remember her own name, and to this day her family has to care for her because she can’t function in society well enough to hold a job. So don’t tell me how necessary these oppressive laws are. You’re worse than murderers, all of you!”

“How dare you!” the Chief Mage snapped, his cheeks coloring. My eyes widened as he took a step toward me, the folds of his robes brushing against me. Magical energy crackled around us, little blue-white bolts that wriggled like worms in the air. “Your accusations border on the ridiculous; magic wipes don’t cause mental damage when done properly. Your lies –”

He stopped mid-sentence as Fenris, who at some point had shifted to human, laid a hand on his arm. “She’s not lying, Iannis.”

The magical energy around us faded, and I let out a small sigh of relief as the Chief Mage turned his deadly glower from me so he could look at Fenris. “She has to be.”

Fenris shook his head. “Director Chartis handles most of these reports, and it’s unlikely he would have passed anything like that along to you,” he told Iannis. “I researched this recently, and from what I understand, approximately three quarters of all magic-wipes result in permanent damage to the subject.”

The Chief Mage was silent for a several seconds. “Seventy-five percent?” His voice was dangerously frigid now. “That’s intolerable. I’ve performed several magic wipes myself – any properly trained mage should be able to do it without causing permanent harm. Who is performing these spells?”

Fenris eyed him warily. “You’d have to ask Director Chartis. But if I were to guess, it’s likely low-level mages, or even apprentices.”

“Are you kidding me?” I shouted, balling my hands into fists at my sides. I wanted to punch the Chief Mage in the nose, but I settled for shoving my face into his instead. “You’ve been letting inexperienced mages perform mind-altering magic on us? You lazy, incompetent bastard!”

“Enough!” The Chief Mage raised a hand and blasted me with a pulse of magic. I staggered several steps backward before I found my footing and froze as our gazes collided again – his violet eyes glowed with rage. “You are not the only one in this room capable of reducing another being to a pile of ash,” he said in a soft, deadly voice. “I would advise you to remember that when you speak to me, Miss Baine.”

“Fine.” I swallowed hard, then firmed my chin and shoulders, forcing my body not to tremble. As angry as I was, the man standing in front of me was the Chief Mage for a reason, and I did
not
want to fuck with him if I hoped to make it out of this place alive.

“Good.” The anger abruptly disappeared as his face returned to stone. “I’m going ask you a series of questions. My magic will tell me if you are lying, so I suggest you be truthful.”

I resisted the urge to scoff, unsure whether I believed that. But in the interest of staying alive, I decided to answer his questions truthfully. I could always test his claim later, when he was less likely to want to incinerate me.

“Excellent.” He turned around, reaching for something on his desk, and when he turned back I saw he had a manila file with my name on it open in his hands. “You are the daughter of Saranella Baine, correct?”

“Correct.” A pang went through my heart at the mention of my mother’s name. It had been fourteen years since she’d died, but I still missed her fiercely.

“Did she ever mention your father to you? His name, his rank, his country of origin?”

“Not once.” I swallowed against a lump in my throat. “I think she figured that if I didn’t know my father was a mage, I might not tap into my powers until I was old enough not to be subjected to testing any longer.”

“An interesting theory, but quite incorrect,” the Chief Mage said, almost conversationally. My nails dug into my palms – did he not realize how insensitive he was being? “You were eight years old when you had your first test?”

“Yes,” I murmured, my mind flying back to that day. I remembered how terrified my mother had been, how she’d sobbed and clung to me and wished aloud that she could keep me home from school that day. I’d been scared too, not so much because of the test but because my mother was crying. That was the only time I’d ever seen her shed tears. She’d been a kind and compassionate woman, but tough as nails, and the moment of weakness still shook me even as a memory. “I passed.”

“Obviously.” The Chief Mage flipped a page in my file and scanned it. I gritted my teeth. “Had you shown any signs of magical aptitude before then?”

I frowned, thinking back. “I conjured some rainbow butterflies at my third birthday party,” I recalled. “My cousins thought it was the greatest thing they’d ever seen, and my mother nearly had a heart attack. None of my aunts ever brought their kids back to our house again.” My heart ached for the hurt and bewildered child I had been. Whether I liked it or not, she still lingered as a ghost in my heart, waiting in vain for someone to accept her.

“Were they real butterflies?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

The Chief Mage frowned impatiently at me. “Were they real butterflies, or just an illusion?”

“Oh, they were real,” I insisted. “I caught one in my hand and felt its wings fluttering against my palm.” Happiness burst through the ache of that memory, and I paused, surprised that I actually had a joyful memory of magic in the recesses of my mind.

The Chief Mage’s eyebrows arched. “At only age three? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Impressive,” he muttered, scanning my file again. Warmth filled my chest at the accidental compliment, but I pushed it down. “And yet you passed the test.”

I sighed. “I don’t understand it either.”

He studied me for a long time. “Your mother died when you were ten years old, correct?”

“Correct.” It had happened so long ago, and yet at the mention of it, I still remembered the way her hand had felt in mine, so weak and clammy as she’d drawn her last breaths. She’d been taken by a rare shifter disease that destroyed the immune system – a true tragedy, as she’d barely reached a hundred years of age, only a third of a shifter’s normal lifespan.

“And you were taken in by Shiftertown Inspector Tillmore after that?”

I cleared my throat. “Not right after. My aunt Mafiela kept me until I was thirteen. That was about as long as she could stand me before throwing me out in the streets. Roanas caught me stealing bread from a vendor in the town square, and took me in, instead of prosecuting me.”

As a general rule, I tried not to think about those nights I’d spent huddling in cardboard boxes in alleys, scrounging for food wherever I could and staying out of sight as much as possible. Even though I was a child, the other shifters had considered me taboo because of my hybrid status – they all knew that I was only half-shifter, even if they didn’t know I was half-mage rather than half-human. If my aunt Mafiela had chosen to keep me, things might’ve been different, but her throwing me out on the streets was a declaration to all that I was tainted, unworthy.

The Chief Mage’s eyes flickered. “Mafiela Baine… she is the matriarch of the Jaguar Clan, correct?”

I nodded.

“Did she know that your father was a mage when she revoked your status as a clan member?”

“I’m not sure.” I clenched my jaw on the lie. Much as I hated my aunt Mafiela, the fact that she hadn’t immediately reported my shifter-mage hybrid status to the Mage’s Guild was her saving grace. I couldn’t throw her under the train, at least not for this. Iannis stared silently at me for a long moment, and I wondered if he really
could
tell that I was lying.

“Being a hybrid and born out of wedlock were reason enough for her to give me the boot. She felt no particular loyalty toward me once my mother died.”

“Does Shiftertown not provide any sort of assistance to the needy?”

“Most of the taxes paid by everyone in this city go into
your
coffers,” I snapped. “What little money Shiftertown gets to keep is used for city maintenance.” The same went for Rowanville and Maintown.

The Chief Mage frowned. “Maintenance? The Mage’s Guild is in charge of civic upkeep. That is one of the reasons why we charge taxes to begin with.”

I laughed. “Yeah, well you ought to take a closer look and see where that money is actually going, because it’s sure not being used for city improvements or welfare.”

“I believe we are going off topic now.” The Chief Mage’s frown deepened. “So Inspector Tillmore took you in. Did he know about your magic?”

I sighed. “Roanas knew everything there was to know about me.” There was no point in hiding it, since he was dead. Grief smarted at my eyes, and I cleared my throat, blinking. The man had taught me everything I needed to know, and it was his recommendation that had gotten me into the Enforcer’s Guild in the first place. “He took me in when I was thirteen years old.”

“Despite your inability to control your magic?” The Chief Mage arched a brow. “A selfless act indeed.”

“Roanas taught me how to defend myself so my magic wouldn’t have to,” I growled. “And I was always safe when I was with him. He did the best he could.”

“I suppose so,” the Chief Mage murmured. His eyes narrowed as he studied me for a long moment, before he set the file aside.

“Hold out your hands.” He stepped toward me, his own hands outstretched.

A shiver rippled down my spine as I eyed him, a sense of déjà vu filling me. This was exactly what the other mages had done when they tested me, and even though I knew there was no harm in having it done again, since everyone in Solantha probably knew I was half-mage, it still made me nervous.

“Your hands,” the Chief Mage repeated, his voice tinged with impatience.

I placed my hands in his reluctantly, watching as his long fingers curled around them. He turned my hands over until my palms rested face up, then stroked my wrists with his thumbs. Another shiver rippled through me, but this one was warm and tingly, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His scent filled my nose, and my cheeks heated as I became incredibly aware of how close we stood together.

If Iannis noticed my sudden discomfort, he said nothing, simply continued to stroke his thumbs across my wrists in small circles. The warm tingles gradually grew stronger as they ran up and down my arms, like an electric current looping between us, and as the scent of burnt sugar thickened around us I realized that current was actually magic.

His eyes opened, and a pang of disappointment went through me as he dropped my hands. “Not a single spark,” he murmured, eyeing me curiously.

“What does that mean?” Fenris, who’d been standing nearby, asked. His brow was furrowed as he studied me.

“It means that someone has put a block on her magic, likely her father.”

“My father?” I echoed. Anger bubbled up in my stomach at the implications. “Why would he do that? So I’d be helpless to defend myself?”

“On the contrary,” the Chief Mage corrected me. “He would have done this to keep you hidden, so you would pass the tests without arousing suspicion.” He sounded intrigued. “Whoever your father is, he must have been a high-level mage to have accomplished such a sophisticated spell.”

“Gee, I’m so proud,” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest.

Annoyance flickered in the Chief Mage’s eyes again, but he ignored my sarcasm as he walked around his desk. I watched, curiously, as he opened a drawer and pulled out a fountain pen. “Hold out your hand.”