Fugitive by Magic: a Baine Chronicles novel (The Baine Chronicles: Fenris's Story Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  The sincerity in his voice allowed me to relax a bit, and I followed him into the house. The interior was sparse but clean, and Fenris led me into the kitchen, where a teapot and two cups already sat waiting.

  I raised a brow. “A mile away, eh?”

  Fenris coughed. “That may have been a slight exaggeration. But I was making tea anyway, and when I saw you coming down the road, I set out a second cup for you.”

  I smiled as I sat down at the table with him and allowed him to pour me a cup of the fragrant tea. It smelled of honey, orange, and linden blossoms, and the warm liquid slid over my frazzled nerves like a security blanket as I took a sip.

  Fenris picked up his own cup, regarding me silently as he drank his tea. His expression was grave—no judgment, no annoyance, no eagerness for gossip. Just calm, quiet concern as he sat there and waited for me to collect myself and speak. It was a refreshing change from what I was used to. When Barrla sensed that I was distressed, she immediately smothered me with affection and concern and hounded me until I gave up and told her what was bothering me. Usually I didn’t mind, but at times like these, when the secret terrors of my past were clawing at my fragile defenses, her persistence was more of a burden than a help.

  “I received a letter this morning,” I finally said when my cup was half finished and my heart rate had returned to normal, “from the Watawis Mages Guild. They want to interview me, apparently because my name came up in an investigation into the use of illegal magic.”

  Fenris stiffened. “So Mrs. Roor has managed to get the Guild to take notice of her suspicions.” He leaned forward a little in his chair, frowning. “Even so, I am surprised they are moving so quickly. Most guilds are covered in bureaucratic red tape—it takes weeks for them to get around to anything.”

  He sounded like he had considerable experience with Mages Guilds, but I wasn’t going to risk alienating him again by pointing that out. “Bad luck, I suppose,” I said, shrugging with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “Perhaps in such an underpopulated, poor state, they don’t get much work otherwise.”

  Fenris’s eyes narrowed. “You never mentioned why you chose this self-imposed exile,” he said, leaning back in his chair as he studied me. “You told me you were a full-blooded mage, not a half-breed, nor born into a human family. Those would be trembling for their life now, but the law is biased in favor of legitimate mages. What would you risk by claiming your heritage?”

  I swallowed hard as the ghosts of my past whispered insidiously in my ear. Guilty, guilty, guilty. “I…lived in an abusive home,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to delve too far into the details—not because I didn’t trust Fenris, but because I didn’t trust myself to maintain my composure if I started digging too deep. “My parents died when I was young, and after some years with my grandmother, she also passed away and left me the family fortune. I was taken in by my aunt and uncle, my only living relatives at that point. I lived with them for nearly a year, and my cousin Vanley, their son, made my life hell. He taunted and molested me, and his parents refused to believe my complaints, so I stopped going to them for help.” My hands fisted in my lap as anger flared in my chest. “On my last night there, I got into an altercation with Vanley that ended…that ended…”

  My chest constricted as panic began to close in on me again, and I paused to take in a slow breath. Fenris said nothing, simply refilling my cup, but his jaw was clenched tight. I cradled the cup in my hands, letting the warmth seep into my skin as I inhaled the soothing fragrance. He waited patiently for me to collect myself despite his obvious anger, and gratitude swept through me—he didn’t ask if I was okay, or try to burden me with meaningless expressions of sympathy that would only make me feel worse about my weakness.

  “I’m worried that I might have killed him,” I said quietly once the tightness had eased enough from my chest that I could speak again. “I lashed out with my magic and sent him flying down the stairs, then ran away without looking back. But even if I didn’t, he would have been injured, and his family will hate me even more. Since I’m still technically a minor under mage law, I would be forced to return to their custody if I came forth to claim my identity. I won’t go back to them.” I clenched my hands into fists beneath the table. “I won’t.”

  “I can’t blame you,” Fenris said softly, a look of understanding in his gaze that loosened the knot in my chest further. “That bastard had it coming—I don’t blame you at all for what you did to him.” Anger flared briefly in his gaze, and my chest filled with warmth—it was good to know that there was someone out there who sided with me. “But as you already know, you cannot simply avoid the summons, or they will send someone to retrieve you. They will be assuming you are a wild talent and may be rough with you until your true identity can be established. You would not enjoy that.”

  “No.” I could just imagine Roor’s mother standing in the street, watching as I was dragged kicking and screaming from my home into a waiting carriage with bars on the doors. The look of satisfaction on her smug, bony face…it was more than I could bear, even as a figment of my imagination. “But what can I do that won’t compromise my identity? I need to stay away from my guardians until I am legally of age.”

  Fenris drummed his blunt fingers on the table, his narrowed gaze turning thoughtful. “The Guild is going to test you the moment you show up, so pretending you are not a mage is out of the question. As soon as they discover that you have magic, they will demand that you provide proof of your lineage and training, or you risk being subjected to the magic wipe.” His handsome features twisted into disgust at that last part. Clearly, he didn’t approve of that barbaric law any more than I did—just the thought of someone reaching into my soul and stripping me of my magic sent icy fingers of dread walking down my spine.

  “How is it that you managed to avoid magical testing?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. If I was to divulge my ugly past today, surely he could give me a few nuggets from his. “I imagine that if the Federation learned of your abilities, you would be subject to the magic wipe just like anyone else.”

  Fenris’s grip on his cup tightened. “I have…friends in high places who helped me avoid scrutiny. But they cannot help me now—they have no influence in Watawis,” he said, even as the question sprang to my lips. “If we are to figure out what to do about your predicament, we must do it on our own. We must use our wits to outsmart Roor’s mother and the legal secretary who has summoned you.”

  We spent a few minutes deliberating various possibilities, such as persuading Barrla to go in my stead, disguised to look like me. She would pass the test with flying colors since she had not a drop of magical blood in her veins, but though she probably would have volunteered and considered it a lark, I could not involve her in such a dangerous scheme. She was an innocent human, and I didn’t want to bring trouble upon her head.

  “The most promising option,” Fenris advised, “is to confess to being a mage and pay a possible fine for not registering your name in the Watawis Mages Guild’s guestbook, as all mages coming from out of state are required to do by law. You could give a different name and age so that you would not be forced to go back to your relatives.”

  I blinked. “That’s not a bad idea… but my lack of experience is going to be an issue. It would not take much probing to figure out I am untrained, and then they might guess I was still a minor by mages’ law.” Attempting to deceive the mages would inevitably lead to punishment if I was found out.

  “If that happens,” Fenris said, “they would declare you a ward of the state and probably assign you to a master of the Chief Mage’s choice. That might not be such a terrible fate, so long as he chooses someone suitable for you.” He cocked his head.

  “No.” I pressed my lips together. “Even in hiding, I have far more control over my own life than I ever did while I was living with my relatives. I have heard horror stories about the way some masters treat their apprentices. I won’t risk the Chief Mage handing me to som
e brute who knows little of healing magic and does not care about my feelings or desires.”

  Fenris nodded. “Regardless of how we deal with the summons, we should find out if there is a search warrant on your original identity, either as a missing person or a wanted criminal.”

  My stomach dropped—I hadn’t considered that. “How can we find that out without drawing attention to me?”

  Fenris shrugged. “I assume you have a family lawyer or trustee who looks after your property? I could write to him under an assumed name and ask about buying something from your estate. With any luck, we can deduce information about the absent owner’s legal status from the answer.”

  “That might work,” I said. “My grandmother’s lawyer was Mr. Ransome, and I do believe he oversees my fortune. You could pretend to be interested in buying my grandmother’s house in Haralis. It is a beautiful place.”

  “Good, and once we get a reply, we can take it from there. The other thing you should do is write back to the legal secretary and ask for an extension on the interview. You can claim professional duties—you are a veterinarian with patients to attend and cannot simply up and leave them at a moment’s notice.” He winked.

  I smiled a little. “Well, there is a certain dog I should check up on.”

  Fenris was silent for a moment. “I am glad we were able to save her together,” he said quietly. “I felt your power that night—you are strong and will be a formidable mage once you are properly trained.”

  A lump swelled in my throat at the pride in his gaze. “I…I’ve never had anybody say that to me,” I whispered, looking down at my hands. “I’ve only ever been able to do small spells here and there, and though my grandmother believed in me, my aunt and uncle …they made me feel weak, worthless. They tried to keep me from training for as long as possible. After all these years of using only the simplest spells, I’d begun to fear I might not be any good at it.”

  Fenris’s eyes flashed. “That’s nonsense. You have done extraordinarily well to teach yourself control and several useful techniques without the guidance of a master, or even so much as a magical text. Most of your peers would not have managed even a quarter as well as you have left entirely on their own. With proper training, I suspect you will easily surpass these ‘relatives’ of yours.” The way his tone changed told me exactly what he thought of my aunt and uncle, and the outrage blazing from him rendered me speechless. I’d never had someone in my life willing to stand up for me like this, and if I was honest, I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  Fenris and I spent the next hour drafting a letter to Domich Ransome, my late grandmother’s family lawyer and now the trustee of my estate. Under the name of the middleman who had helped Fenris buy his farm, the letter politely inquired whether my grandmother’s mansion might be for sale and who was the owner of record. I was glad to leave the actual writing to Fenris. There would be no danger of his strong, masculine handwriting being in any way associated with me. The return address was that of a well-known tobacconist who lived in Willowdale, the state capital; according to Fenris, he often served as an informal and discreet post exchange for his customers.

  “That will do,” Fenris said as he tucked the letter into an envelope he’d conjured out of thin air and wrote the address in Haralis, halfway across the Federation, that I dictated from memory. “We can post it from the state capital as soon as one of us goes there. I need some painting and gardening supplies anyway.”

  I bit my lip. “I could use some medical supplies from the capital…but is it wise for me to go there when I’m about to tell the Mages Guild I can’t make the trip due to business reasons? What if somebody sees me?”

  “The Legal Secretary has no idea what you look like, and he will not have sentries hiding in the shadows waiting to see if you show up,” Fenris said dryly. My cheeks flamed, and he added, “I understand your fears, but the Mages Guild is not nearly as clever and all-seeing as most people would like to believe. We will be perfectly fine making a short visit.”

  I was just about to relax when he added, “Even so, we should probably prepare a disguise for you, ideally of an older man or woman, in case you do need to sneak away at some point. Do you have any experience with illusion magic?”

  “No.” The tips of my ears burned with shame, and I was glad my hair hid them. “I’ve tried changing forms, mostly to make my face a little older, but I can only hold it for an hour at most.”

  “That is better than I had hoped for,” Fenris said, striding over to the wall. He plucked an old, rusty nail sticking out of the wooden paneling, then, with a casual twist of his fingers, changed it into a gold ring with a smooth, round blue stone. My heart began to beat a little faster as he offered it to me, holding out his hand in a silent invitation to give him mine.

  “Is this a proposal?” I teased, trying to keep the mood light as I placed my right hand in his. His callouses scraped my skin gently, and the warmth from his flesh sent a zing of electricity straight up my arm. I had to resist the urge to bite my lip again, and prayed to the Lady he would attribute the heat in my cheeks to my earlier embarrassment.

  Fenris chuckled softly, and the sound reverberated through me, awakening something I had long thought dormant. “Visualize a form you find familiar,” he instructed as he slid the ring onto my finger. “Something you don’t have to think too hard about.”

  “All right. I’ll try for an image of my grandmother.”

  I closed my eyes, reaching for the core of power that pulsed within me. It reacted instantly to my touch, rushing into my veins with a surge that sent goose bumps rippling up my arms, and I had to push it back before it overwhelmed me. After a few minutes of struggle, I managed to take enough to spin it into the illusion of my late grandmother.

  I held the image of her in my mind as I let the magic take hold—her silver-gray hair, her kind smile, the crow’s feet around her gentle brown eyes. The wire-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose that were forever sliding off onto whatever book she was reading at the time. Her dove-gray robes that flowed elegantly around a willowy frame that had never bent despite her age. She had been very old, my grandmother—over five hundred when she passed away. Tears swelled beneath my eyelids at the familiar ache in my chest, and I had to force them back.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I looked down to see that I had become several inches taller and now sported gray robes and old-fashioned, patent leather shoes.

  “Excellent,” Fenris said, still holding my hand. I looked down to see that my skin had become paler, blue veins running beneath the near-translucent skin that now bore faint wrinkles. “Your grandmother looks to have been a lovely woman,” he said softly.

  I blinked hard before more tears could come. “Thank you. She was…wonderful. She took me in when my parents died, and I lived with her until I was fourteen. It must have been difficult, since she was quite frail already, but she never made me feel unwanted for a single moment.”

  We both looked down at my hand again, and Fenris placed his thumb on the round blue stone. I felt the tingle of magic in the air, and the next thing I knew, Fenris’s voice was in my head, chanting another spell. I nearly recoiled, but his hand tightened on mine, and the ring began to glow.

  An anchoring spell, I realized as I focused on interpreting the words. To bind the illusion to my ring.

  “There,” he said, finally releasing my hand. “You can now turn the illusion off and on whenever you want, simply by brushing your finger over the stone. Try it now,” he said, gesturing to the ring.

  I did as he ordered, and the gray robes flickered away, revealing my normal pants and sturdy work boots. “How…how is it that I am able to hear you speaking the spell in my mind?”

  Fenris’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “I heard your voice in my head,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “speaking the spell that you imbued in the ring.”

  A chagrined look flashed across Fenris’s face. “I must have accidentally bee
n using mindspeak,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you should have been able to hear it, unless you have a natural inclination toward it.”

  “Mindspeak?” I echoed. Hadn’t Barrla mentioned that concept when she was nattering on about her favorite series? I had thought it was just an invention of the author’s.

  Fenris nodded. “It’s mostly a shifter ability, very useful since we can communicate with each other while in beast form, though the range is limited. I know of only one mage who can do it, but then he is extraordinary in many other ways.” His eyes shone with curiosity. “Try sending me a thought.”

  I started. “What?”

  “If you can hear me speaking into your mind, it stands to reason that you should be able to use mindspeak as well.” Fenris folded his arms. “Come on, try it. Try to say something to me with your mind. Just focus on me, and imagine the thought beaming into my head.”

  Scowling, I planted my gaze on the spot between his eyes, then fired off the first thought that came to my head. “This is stupid.”

  Fenris grinned. “Excellent.” I started as his voice echoed in my head again.

  “I…this really works?” I pressed my hands to my cheeks, wondering if I had suddenly become a different person. “How did I inherit this talent?” I asked aloud.

  Fenris shrugged. “Perhaps you have a shifter ancestor hidden in your family tree or your natural affinity for animals inspired the ability. I don’t believe that animals can use mindspeak, but they do have non-verbal cues for communicating,” he continued, answering the question that sprang to my lips.

  It was true I often seemed to know intuitively what animals were feeling, but this was different. I frowned suspiciously. “Can you also hear my thoughts when I’m not projecting them? You often seem to know what questions I’m about to ask before I even open my mouth.”

  Fenris grinned again. “Your face is like an open book, Mina—not much thought-reading required. At least when it comes to your curiosity about magic. Don’t worry,” he added when I opened my mouth to object. “I cannot spy on your private thoughts any more than you can on mine.” My face flamed again, and he continued, “In any case, this discovery is most useful. It means we can talk to each other both when I’m in animal form and when we are in the presence of people who must not overhear us.”