Deceived by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 6)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Hey,” I said to Zhou after dinner as we filed out of the dining hall. “I could use some exercise. What do you say to a bout of unarmed combat?”

  He gave me a once over, taking in my leather and weapons, then glanced toward Iannis, who was just ahead. “Will your lover have a problem with that?”

  “Sunaya is her own woman,” Iannis said, looking over his shoulders at us. The expression in his eyes suggested he wasn’t particularly thrilled about the idea of watching me fight another man. “But if it’s all the same, I will observe during the match.”

  I met Zhou in the large cabin Iannis and I used for our magic lessons, thankful that, for once, I’d be getting some physical exercise. Iannis took up a spot against the back wall, out of the way but still close enough to interfere should he feel it necessary. I really hoped he didn’t—I understood his protective instincts, but I didn’t want a shining knight coming to my rescue.

  I wanted a brawl.

  “I don’t usually fight females,” Zhou warned as he stripped off his outerwear. Beneath, he wore a sleeveless undershirt that showed off his broad shoulders and the thick, corded muscles in his arms. “I won’t use my full strength on you.”

  “Then you’re dead,” I said flatly, placing my leather jacket on a nearby table. We’d cleared a space in the center of the room, pushing the sparse furniture against the walls. “Because I won’t hold back.”

  Zhou smirked a little as he watched me lay my weapons on the table. “Without your weapons, you’re no match for me.”

  Refusing to let him rile me, I met him in the center of our makeshift ring. We locked eyes as we bowed, and I refused to break the gaze as we both sank into fighting stances. Zhou’s stance was much looser than mine, leaving his broad chest and throat exposed, and I bit back a grin. He’d never be able to get past my tighter stance, and he was a walking target.

  “Begin,” Iannis said, and I shot forward, already swinging. But Zhou was much faster than I’d anticipated, and before my fist could connect, he was already behind me. I whirled around, and he swept out his foot, knocking me to the ground. I landed on my ass with a hiss, then rolled backward and onto my feet, avoiding his kick and just barely managing to stay inside the ring. Snarling, I sprang at him sideways and scissored my legs around his hips and knees, sending him slamming to the ground before he could turn.

  “Got you!” I crowed, grabbing his legs. But before I could get them into a lock, he twisted out of my grip. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me, driving the breath out of my lungs as he dropped his full weight on my chest. I bucked hard, trying to get him off, but he grabbed my wrist and slid his arm beneath mine, then locked his hands and pulled.

  “Okay, okay!” I cried as pain shot up my arm, smacking at his thigh with my free hand. “I give.”

  Smirking, Zhou got to his feet, then helped me to mine. “You fought well,” he said as I gulped in air. “But you’ve a long way to go if you think to best me in unarmed combat.”

  We fought twice more, and even though I managed to get him into a lock during one of the bouts, he still beat me easily. By the time we’d finished, I was sweaty and breathless, sore and tired, and my pride was a little bruised. But I was nevertheless satisfied, and we parted on amiable terms before Iannis and I returned to our room.

  “Is that enough to tide you over for the rest of the trip?” Iannis asked, sounding a little amused as I flopped onto the bed. “Or are you still in need of more ‘exercise’?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “I’m not going to let you take me down a peg,” I told him as he sat down on the bed next to me. “So what if he kicked my ass? It was still a good workout.” Yeah, so I was a little disappointed that I hadn’t won a single match. But I couldn’t really complain—the guy had forty years of experience on me, and a good deal more muscle. If he hadn’t been a shifter, I might have been able to beat him, but shifter males were stronger than females.

  “Of course,” Iannis said. He pressed a kiss to my sweaty brow, then made a face. “Now why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

  Despite the awe-inspiring views, the delicious food, and the magic lessons, I was getting antsy at the ridiculously long time it was taking to get to Bilai. The last leg of our trip we spent aboard an oversized airship. Its golden silk canvas was half covered with white swathes of the same fabric, to signify that we were in mourning. Weighed down as we were, our airship was among the last to arrive, but the Imperial protocol official who received us did not betray the slightest irritation at the delay—he was all smiles, a true professional. He didn’t even react at the sight of my shifter eyes.

  “Please follow me,” he said, and we fell in behind him with the Minister up front and the servants behind us. The Imperial Palace was not far from the open space in which we’d landed, and I gazed around curiously, wondering what exotic sights we were about to behold.

  “Try to look bored,” Iannis advised me in mindspeak. “We come from a great country too.”

  I schooled my expression, forcing my wandering eyes straight ahead. Iannis was right—if I acted overawed, I would appear provincial, even if I had never visited an emperor’s palace before. You’re a descendant of Resinah, I reminded myself, lifting my chin.

  As it turned out, the Imperial Palace was not a single structure, as I’d imagined from the name, but a small city set within high walls, consisting of over a dozen buildings of various sizes. Even its spacious halls, however, were not big enough to hold all the heads of state and their parties invited to this shindig. So the Garaians had custom-built another small city on what was normally an empty space used for parades and exercises by the imperial guard. Each delegation was assigned its own pavilion, made of beautifully carved wood, and each one different, incorporating elements from the guests’ home countries. It was ridiculously impressive.

  “How did they manage to build all this in just a few weeks?” I asked as we approached our own lodgings. The Northian pavilion was decorated by a frieze featuring grizzlies, condors, wolves, and buffalo, and the door was inlaid with semi-precious stones forming a map of our Federation.

  “Garaians are very good at organizing,” Iannis explained as we inspected our adjoining rooms. They were not overly large, but comfortably furnished with colorful silk hangings, and the canopied beds with a multitude of soft pillows looked most inviting. “I imagine they did the planning and some of the work beforehand, since the late Emperor was ailing and senile for some time.”

  A pretty Garaian woman rushed in and bowed deeply. “Lord, Lady, the Empress’s reception will begin in two hours—may I help you get ready?” From her tone, that was not nearly long enough to prepare. We had arrived in the nick of time.

  “I can manage,” Iannis said, “but you’d best use her help, Sunaya.” He spoke to the servant in Garaian, and I swallowed a little as she advanced on me in a purposeful manner. Steeling my shoulders, I allowed her to guide me into a chair, then held still as she began to work her magic on me.

  After all, there was a good chance I might run into my father in two hours. And if I did, I at least wanted to do it in style.

  13

  With the skilled help of the maid, I got ready just in time to join the rest of the delegation as we set out. Two guards escorted us to the Hall of Dragons in the Imperial Palace, where the reception was to take place. All the various heads of state, and their accompanying delegates, were expected to be present, so this was my opportunity to make my first impression on the world leaders. For once, I had agreed to dress as a mage, but instead of the ugly apprentice robes, I wore fuchsia and gold, with a matching gold sash around my waist. My hair was piled atop my head, with a gold chain woven through the curls. Matching earrings dangled from my ears.

  Like our pavilion, the Hall of Dragons was fashioned of wood, but the twisting columns must have been carved from ancient oak trees, for they were easily five times Iannis’s height and as thick as three average men standing close together. The pillars were decorated
with winged dragons, a motif repeated on the carvings of the ceiling high above, and the silk embroidered wall hanging. There even was a glass dragon lamp hanging from the ceiling on solid gold chains, glowing from within with magical light. The late Emperor’s widow was standing in front of her dais at the far end of the hall. All newly arriving guests approached her in an orderly queue to pay their respects and give their condolences before mingling or partaking of the abundant food and drink.

  “Is all this fuss really necessary?” I muttered to Iannis in mindspeak as we joined the queue. “These earrings are so heavy; I won’t be surprised if my earlobes drag on the carpet by the end of the night.”

  “This may be hard to believe, but you are dressed rather conservatively for Garai,” Iannis replied. He nodded his head toward Director Chen, who was wearing multilayered Garaian robes in subtly contrasting colors, embroidered with magical symbols. Her hair was done even more elaborately than mine, and jewelry dripped from every possible place on her body. “They love to wear flashy and ostentatious costumes, to display their rank and wealth.”

  Finally, it was our turn to bow before our hostess. Her Imperial Majesty Chari Hahn wore robes of spun gold, the color reserved to the Emperor, with diamonds and dark pearls glittering in reckless profusion. “Welcome, Minister Graning,” she said in a low monotone as we approached, coached by the Head of Protocol standing at her left side. Two men and three women who bore strong resemblance to her were also present, and as introductions were made, I found out that they were her sons and daughters. It was a little disconcerting seeing as how they all seemed to be of similar age, and I wondered how old they really were.

  “So this is the unusual Miss Baine,” Chari drawled once Iannis and I were introduced by the Minister, and we’d expressed our condolences at the Mage-Emperor’s passing. “The newspaper photographs do not do you justice.”

  My cheeks colored a little, and I bowed again, pretending to take her remark as a compliment. “You’re very kind, Your Majesty.”

  “We have never had a shifter attend as a guest, not even a half-shifter,” Princess Ra-Sai, the middle daughter, observed. Her expression was more reserved than her mother’s. “I hope that you have found your stay in Bilai to be pleasant so far.”

  “We have been very well taken care of, thank you,” I assured her, refusing to let her know that I’d noticed the stares that had followed us around the room, specifically me. To make my resemblance to the ar’Rhea family less striking, I had lightened the color of my hair from black to dark brown, but my green shifter eyes were still drawing a lot of attention.

  Maybe they’ve just never met a panther shifter before, I thought as we continued around the room. Despite what Princess Ra-Sai had said, I was not the only shifter present—the Mage-Emperor’s famous Lion Guards were patrolling the crowds. They wore red and gold tunics, with a lion’s head emblazoned on the backs, and they all dyed their hair gold and wore it long and untamed around their oblong faces, like a lion’s mane. Most of them were in human form, but some prowled around as lions as well. A smart choice, since shifter senses were much stronger in animal form, and they could still use mindspeak to communicate with each other.

  Servants circulated in the room as well, plying us with strong spirits that burned like fire in my throat, and made some of the guests cough and turn red in the face. Thankfully, I was unaffected, but many of them became quite drunk, and the more they drank, the more freely their words flowed. Others imbibed much less, including Iannis, Director Chen, and the Minister, and they took advantage of the opportunity to prod and pry at their inebriated fellow-guests, gaining useful information. I tried to do the same, but I could not understand most of the languages spoken.

  Amongst other things, I learned that many of the guests were speculating, and even placing bets, that Chari would try to sabotage the trials of the potential new Mage-Emperor after the funeral. Apparently, Chari was a second wife—the late Mage-Emperor’s first son, Kazu, was born of the first wife, who had died long ago. Chari, of course, wanted her own eldest son, Bu-Sai, to take the throne.

  “I don’t know why you would bet against Kazu,” a black-skinned delegate from Faricia scoffed to her fellow delegate. She wore colorful orange-and-green robes, and her beads clinked as she tossed her braided hair over one shoulder. “I understand he has done an admirable job of defending the Garaian border against desert tribes—he is no pushover.”

  “Perhaps, but being a good warrior is not enough to make a leader,” the other delegate said. “Bu-Sai is more intelligent, from what I have heard, and, alongside his late father, has done much for trade in Garai.”

  Unable to stand the suspense anymore, I approached one of the assistants to the Head of Protocol. To my relief, she understood Northian. “Do you happen to know if the delegation from Castalis has arrived? Are they present?” I asked, lowering my voice to a discreet murmur.

  “Certainly, miss. The High Mage has brought his son and daughter, as well as several advisors. I passed them earlier near one of the pillars.”

  Excitement and apprehension filled me, and I looked eagerly around the crowded hall, trying to spot my unknown relatives. It took some time, since there were over five hundred people milling around, but eventually I caught sight of the Castilian High Mage, standing over by a refreshment table as he conversed with a caramel-skinned delegate from Southia. I stilled, taking slow, even breaths to quell my suddenly racing heart. I had already seen the High Mage’s photograph, but in person, his resemblance to me was even more obvious in his thick, curly black hair, startling green eyes, full mouth, and olive skin tone. His son, Malik, was a lankier version of Haman, and my heart thumped a little harder as I caught sight of Isana, his older daughter, who had sent me that letter. Her thick black hair was straight, unlike my own, and her skin was several shades darker, but the fullness of her mouth, her straight nose, and her bottle-green eyes reminded me of the reflection I saw every time I stared into my bathroom mirror.

  Iannis appeared next to me, abandoning a Pernian mage with whom he had renewed an old acquaintanceship. Noticing who I was staring at, he seized my elbow and steered me in the opposite direction. “If anyone saw you and Isana together, they would see the resemblance instantly,” he warned, releasing my elbow to settle his hand on the small of my back instead. “Perhaps we should have done something more drastic about your coloring.”

  I held back a snort. “I don’t really think that would matter. And besides, the last thing I need is for Garrett to become suspicious.” I glanced over at the Director of Federal Security, who was across the room chatting with a pretty blonde mage from the Central Continent. The color in his cheeks was high. Judging by the animated gestures he was making, he had not been able to resist temptation like Iannis and the Minister had. But I couldn’t count on him being drunk and oblivious for the rest of the trip.

  “Lord Iannis. It has been a long time since I last crossed paths with you, back when you were traveling in Castalis,” a deep voice said from behind us, and I forced myself not to stiffen at the rolling ‘Rs and stretched vowels—hallmarks of a Castalian accent. Slowly, Iannis and I turned to see Haman standing behind us. Trepidation rushed through me, but also relief, as I noticed he had left his children back on the other side of the room.

  “Lord Haman.” Iannis smiled, and the two shook hands. “Times have certainly changed since then. Your father-in-law was High Mage at the time, and now you rule Castalis yourself. And you have a wife and grown children, too.”

  “Indeed!” Haman agreed, chuckling. “Rumor has it that you are about to marry yourself.” His green eyes turned to mine with open curiosity. “May I have an introduction?”

  “Certainly. Allow me to present my fiancée, Miss Sunaya Baine,” Iannis said, smiling fondly down at me. There was absolutely zero indication in his expression or voice that this was anything other than an introduction between strangers. “Sunaya, this is Lord Haman ar’Rhea, the High Mage of Castalis.”

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nbsp; “Pleased to meet you.” I held out my hand for him to shake. Instead, he took it and turned my knuckles up to him. A strange feeling went through me as his lips brushed them—my first physical contact with my father in my entire life. He seemed to pause for a moment, and my breath caught. Did he notice the resemblance? Did he suspect, as Isana did?

  “Your fingers are calloused,” he said, releasing my hand as he straightened. “Much like someone who wields weapons on a regular basis. I think I remember reading that you are an enforcer?”

  “I am,” I said, straightening my shoulders. I would not be ashamed that my fingers weren’t manicured and that my hands were not butter soft. I’d earned my calluses, and I wore them with pride the way a human might wear scars. “Seven years now.”

  “That sounds like a thrilling profession.” Haman said. He held my gaze a moment longer, a thoughtful expression in his eyes, then turned back to Iannis. “I wanted to congratulate you not just on your engagement, but also on becoming Chief Mage of Canalo. I remember Solantha well from my time there, nearly thirty years ago.”

  Iannis and Haman launched into a conversation about Solantha, the Federation, and general politics, and I forced myself to stand there, smiling and nodding politely, and acting as though I hadn’t just met my father for the first time. How the hell could Iannis be so calm and unruffled, knowing who this man was? Luckily, Haman didn’t notice the resemblance between us, either because he couldn’t look past my shifter features, or because he was thick-headed. Judging by the intelligence in his eyes, and the acumen with which he discussed various topics with Iannis, I suspected the former.

  “Darling,” I said after a while, placing my hand on Iannis’s shoulder. “I’m starting to get a little tired. I think I’m going to find somewhere to sit and rest for a bit.”