“She’s not a conversationalist, but she will provide guidance in moments of true need.” Iannis stared up at the statue, some undefinable emotion glimmering in his violet eyes. “Not very long ago I came to Resinah seeking advice on how to deal with a rather terrible dilemma. Her wisdom encouraged me to show mercy in a situation where the law would suggest otherwise.”
“Huh.” I stared at the Chief Mage, wondering just what kind of situation had been so untenable that he’d sought out advice from his deity rather than enforce the laws he governed so strictly with. But I could tell from the look in his eye that he wasn’t going to say any more about it, so I didn’t press.
“So did you bring me here just to show me the temple?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. “Or is there more?”
“There is more.” The Chief Mage sighed a little as I turned to face him again. “I don’t condone your behavior in my office today, nor your absence from the Mages Guild this morning… but I do acknowledge that your education has been lackluster so far. I realized that you have not been given any of the education most mages already receive from their families by the time they begin an apprenticeship, and that because of your unusual power level I may have been harder on you than I should.” He reached into his sleeve, and pulled out a heavy, leather-bound tome. “This is a copy of the Residah, the book of scripture that holds Resinah’s teachings. Every mage reads this book early on, and it’s time you did so as well.”
“You really need to teach me that trick sometime.” I took the tome from him gingerly, running my hand across the runes carved in relief across the teal-colored leather. “Being able to pull objects out of thin air would be a useful talent for someone like me, you know.” I’d decided that Iannis’s sleeve itself wasn’t enchanted, otherwise he’d have to move all the stuff he stored in there to a different robe each time he changed. Maybe he had some kind of mystical air pocket that hovered near his forearm.
“I can imagine.” Iannis’s lips twitched into a rare smile, softening his stern features and drawing my attention to how handsome he was. “When you finish reading this, I will teach you the spell.”
“Now that’s motivation.” I glanced down at the heavy book in my hand, not so much because I wanted to look at it again but because warmth was spreading through my cheeks, and I didn’t want Iannis to pick up on it. I’d thought that between moving out of the Palace and seeing him so infrequently, his effect on me would lessen, but the butterflies in my stomach were just as active as they always were when I caught brief flashes of humor, compassion or heat from him. The fact that we were alone here didn’t help matters.
I raised my head as a thought occurred to me. “Why is no one else here?” I asked. “Don’t other mages come here to umm… worship? Or whatever it is you do here?” And wouldn’t there at least be attendants or something?
“Yes, but I asked that the temple be cleared for our visit this evening,” Iannis said. “I didn’t want other mages to distract you.”
He sent them away for me. More warmth filled my chest, followed by a healthy dose of shame, and I looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?” For the first time I could recall, confusion entered Iannis’s voice. “What for?”
“For not thanking you.” Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away before turning to look him in the eye – I was not going to cry in front of the Chief Mage. “For sparing my life, for taking me on as your apprentice, for everything you’ve taught me so far… I’ve never thanked you for any of it. And I’m sorry.”
“Well, that must have been incredibly difficult for you to say.” The surprise on Iannis’s face melted into another small smile. “If I didn’t know better, Miss Baine, I would say that you’re maturing.”
“Hey, it’s a process.” I stuck out my tongue. I might have been twenty-four years old, but shifters lived for hundreds of years, and as far as I was concerned that meant my brain still had a little ways to go to catch up with how old I looked.
“Indeed. I’d hoped that between studying Resinah’s scripture and your increased exposure to other mages that you’d begin taking after your other half more. It would seem that it’s working.” He smirked a little.
“Soooo… does this mean that you’ll give me time off in the mornings now? You know, so I can study this book?” I grinned, knowing he would see right through my ploy, but the tension between us had lightened significantly, and I figured I’d take a shot.
To my surprise, a thoughtful glimmer entered Iannis’s eyes. “I would be willing to allow you to come in an hour later to give you time to read in the mornings,” he allowed. “But rest assured you’ll be quizzed at the beginning of every lesson, so if I find you’ve been abusing the privilege I will take it away.”
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “You know, at this rate I may as well just take out one of those interest-free loans Sandin Federal Bank is offering. I need to start earning money again.”
“Interest-free loans?” Instantly, all the levity vanished from the Chief Mage’s expression. “What are you talking about?”
“Sandin Federal Bank is offering such loans specifically for shifters,” I said carefully, wary of the dangerous tone that had entered his voice. “I heard about it at a diner in Shiftertown today. Apparently a lot of shifters have accepted them, and they seem to be pretty happy about it too. I figured I may as well take advantage.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Excuse me?” I stiffened at the authoritative tone in his voice.
“Under no circumstances should you accept the loan from Sandin Federal Bank,” Iannis said sternly. “Loans of that sort are highly suspect, and the terms they are offering are likely to be illegal. They could cause you great financial hardship in the future.”
“Oh.” I deflated momentarily, and then stood up straight again. “Well how do you know the terms are illegal? Isn’t it worth checking out at least?” I wasn’t actually keen on going into debt, but the rebel in me was chafing at the idea that I couldn’t at least consider the terms.
“Terms that look too good to be true usually are. There is no such thing as free money, and the fine print will likely have some caveat, such as interest rates kicking in after a certain period of time. But I suppose it’s worth finding out exactly what the fine print says.” Iannis tapped his triangular chin, his eyes narrowing. “In fact, I think that’s exactly what you should do.”
“Huh?” I gaped at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head.
“Yes.” Iannis nodded in satisfaction, more to himself than to me, I think. “I’d like you to investigate the terms of the loan, find out how long the bank has been offering it, and if there have been any repercussions on the shifters who have taken the money. I would do it myself, but as you know I am leaving for the Convention soon and Fenris and I are both pressed for time.”
“Right.” That damned Convention again. “When exactly am I going to have time to do this? In case you haven’t realized this, banks are closed in the evenings.”
“I will allow you to take the next three mornings off to conduct the investigation,” he relented. “I realize you will need more time in your schedule, and this is more important than your routine duties at the Mages Guild. But make no mistake; if I don’t have any results from you by the end of the week, there will be consequences.”
“Oh believe me, I’ll have your results for you.” I grinned, and if Iannis hadn’t been standing in front of me I would have danced around the room, sacred temple be damned. Investigating the bank seemed simple enough, and three days was enough time for me to do it while also looking into Sillara’s murder with Inspector Lakin. After all, who said a girl couldn’t multitask?
7
By the time I got back to my apartment in Rowanville, it was late in the evening, and long shadows stretched across the room, silhouetted by the moonlight that streamed through my bay window. I flicked on the light, then hung up my leather jacket befor
e heading toward my kitchen to scrounge up something to eat. I’d considered hounding Lakin, but the Residah called to me, inviting me to open its pages. I figured I might as well get started on it tonight to free up my morning for my investigation.
Settling down on the couch with my back against the armrest and my knees drawn up, I made quick work of a bowl of sausage and potatoes. With a full belly and a satisfied sigh, I propped the book up against my thighs and began to skim through the table of contents so I could see what was in this thing. A chapter called ‘The Mage’s Code of Honor’ jumped out at me, and I flipped to it, curious to see what sort of standard Resinah expected of mages back in her day.
* * *
Magic is an extension of oneself. Every charm made and spell cast is a reflection on one’s soul. Treat all requests to perform magic with this in mind.
Magic is a gift given to us by the Creator, and must be treated with proper reverence. The possessor of magic is not a god, but rather an extension of one. Use magic to protect the weak, rather than take advantage of them.
In order to properly use the gift of magic, one must agree not to commit any acts of magic that go against the Creator’s tenets, including, but not limited to:
The murder of another mage or human
The exploitation of humans and other lesser beings through magical means
The performance of a spell on another mage or human that affects their mind or body without their express permission, with self-defense as an exception
* * *
I stopped there, pursing my lips as indignation burned in my chest. The mages had blown the third tenet right out of the water when they’d created shifters. I wondered just how many of the original humans the mages used to create shifters had participated willingly. Had any? Just how sacred did the mages hold the Residah?
The telephone on the kitchen counter rang, interrupting my train of thought. Annoyed, I set the book on the coffee table, then got up to answer it. Much as I would have rather ignored it, I didn’t get phone calls very often, and I was curious as to who it was.
“Hello?”
“Sunaya Baine.” A deep, hoarse voice sounded from the other end. “You should stop sticking your whiskers into matters that don’t concern you.”
“What are you talking about?” My entire body stiffened at the veiled threat, and my ears strained, trying to identify the voice on the other line.
“I think you know what I’m talking about.” The voice turned slightly smug. “You wouldn’t want to end up like poor Sillara, would you?”
“I'm a lot tougher than Sillara was,” I growled, finally understanding. This asshole was trying to get me to stop helping Lakin with his investigation. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?” There was a barely audible strain in his speech that told me it wasn't the speaker’s natural voice.
“If you’re not concerned about your own safety, then be concerned for your family.” The voice turned darker. “Meddle in our affairs, and they will pay the price.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that my family and I didn’t give two shits about each other, but the line disconnected, leaving me with nothing to shout at but a dial tone. Frustrated, I slammed the receiver back down into the cradle. This wasn’t the first time I’d received a threatening phone call, but they usually involved my own hide, not someone else’s.
Sighing, I returned to my position on the couch, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch the book on the table. Instead, my mind wrestled with the phone call. Whoever the caller was, they must be involved in the kidnappings, but what had alerted them to my involvement? Was it because I’d visited the Enforcer’s Guild today and demanded Sillara’s files? Dammit, but I should have found a way to keep a lower profile during my visit.
I ground my teeth together at the idea of another traitor in the Enforcer’s Guild. The last time, it had been Deputy Talcon who’d been pulling strings from the inside – he’d been in league with Petros Yantz, and it was because of his interference that the silver poisonings weren’t properly investigated. I’d killed him in self-defense when he and Yantz had kidnapped me and taken me to Yantz’s mansion to find out what I knew about their operation, which to my frustration had been precious little. I’d already known that they were using kalois, a special herb from a foreign continent that kept shifters from detecting the deadly silver slipped into their food and drink, and into the drugs that were being distributed throughout Shiftertown. But we hadn’t yet figured out the endgame, or the identity of the mastermind behind it. Yantz and Talcon had only referred to him as ‘the Benefactor,’ and implied that their operation was merely the beginning of something much larger.
Whatever Sillara had been involved with, it probably had something to do with this larger plan. And I had a bad feeling that even if we figured out what it was, the Benefactor would still be miles ahead of us.
Morning sunlight struck my closed eyelids, and I opened them to find that I was still on the couch, where I’d eventually fallen asleep after a restless night. I’d spent the better part of my night staring at the ceiling as I tried to come up with theories about who the caller could have been, and also about whether or not I should warn my “family” that they were in danger. On the one hand, my aunt Mafiela and I hated each other, and if someone took her out I certainly wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. But there were innocent cubs in the Jaguar Clan that an outsider could loosely consider to be my family, and I didn’t want their blood anywhere near my hands.
In the end, I grabbed a shower and a change of clothes, then rode my bike over to my aunt’s house in Shiftertown. She lived in the upper crust section of town, where rows of tri-colored terraced houses nestled side-by-side like a set of painted eggs in a carton, though nowhere near as fragile. My aunt wasn't the cheerful type though; she’d painted her house a dark purple, and the shutters and roof tiles were a complementary but boring dark grey. Not even the flowers nestled in the beds out front offered any of bright colors – they were beautiful, but pure white.
I left my steambike on the curb, then trotted up the steps and banged on the front door with a heavy brass knocker molded into the shape of a jaguar head. A few moments later, a blond jaguar shifter dressed in a suit and tie answered the door, his yellow eyes already narrowed in disapproval.
“Hey, Hennis.” I greeted my aunt’s butler casually, as if he weren’t looking down his nose at me like I was a spot of dung on his shiny shoes. Damn, but he could give the mages lessons on how to be a supercilious asshole. “Is my aunt home?”
“I’m afraid Chieftain Baine is not accepting visitors at this moment.” Hennis’s lips thinned. “Perhaps I could take a message.”
“Sorry, but this isn’t a social call.” I lifted my wrist, flashing the Enforcer’s shield that hung from my leather bracelet in the shape of a small bronze charm. “I’m here on official business.”
“Very well. Please wait here.”
He shut the door in my face, and I sighed, resigned to waiting on the front porch of the house I’d lived in for a good portion of my childhood. Though Aunt Mafiela had disapproved of my mother’s illegitimate pregnancy, she’d loved my mother all the same and had allowed us both to live with her. This house had many good memories from when my mother was alive, as well as plenty of dark ones from the two years I’d lived here without her.
If I’d been any other Enforcer, Hennis would have invited me to wait in the receiving parlor. But because I was the black sheep, the hated relation, I was stuck out on the porch. Oh well, at least it was summer, and early enough in the day that the temperature was tolerable.
The door opened once more, and my lovely aunt glared at me from behind the threshold. She couldn’t have looked less like me, dressed in a ruffled white blouse and high-waisted grey pants that showed off her slender figure, her blonde hair swept back from her diamond-shaped face into an elegant bun. The end of her nose was slightly tilted up, like mine, and her eyes were the same size and shape. But her irises were yellow, like
the majority of the Jaguar Clan, whereas mine were bottle green – just one more thing to set me apart from everyone else.
“By Magorah, Sunaya. What do you want?” she demanded, her eyes glimmering with annoyance. “It’s barely midmorning!” Jaguars were notoriously nocturnal, so for Mafiela it was like I’d come knocking at seven in the morning.
“Oh I’m sorry, did I disturb your beauty sleep?” I snapped, raking her with a sneer. I couldn’t help it – everything about the woman set me on edge. “I know how much you need it.” It was a lie of course – Mafiela was beautiful, with her sharp cheekbones, thickly-lashed eyes and generous mouth.
A flush spread across those sharp cheekbones, and she peeled back her lips to snarl at me, fangs exposed. “I don’t have to take this kind of abuse from you. If you don’t have anything important to say, you can leave.” She made to shut the door.
“Oh stop it.” I stuck my boot on the brass threshold, preventing her from closing the door. “I’m here because a threat was made against your family recently.”
Mafiela’s eyes flashed. “A threat? What kind of threat?”
“It was a little vague,” I admitted, shoving my hands into my pockets. “But I got a phone call last night from someone telling me that if I didn’t drop an investigation, that they would come after my family.” I curled my lips back into a sneer of my own. “They hung up the phone before I had a chance to tell them I don’t have a family.”
“Hmph.” Mafiela turned her nose up at me. “Well if you think I’m going to thank you for delivering the warning, you can think again. After all, it’s your fault if we’re being threatened in the first place.”
Bound by Magic: a New Adult Fantasy Novel (The Baine Chronicles Book 2) Page 6
