Bound by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #2)(15)

My monstrous appetite might have had something to do with why the head cook gave me a dirty look when I walked into the kitchen. I grinned at her, and she shook her head, then ordered one of her juniors to get me some food. A few minutes later, I was sitting at a small table in the corner, wolfing down a whole roasted chicken and a pile of herbed potatoes. I moaned quietly as the juicy flavors saturated my tongue – by Magorah, but the Palace had excellent food.

I could have gone to sit in the dining hall and eat, of course, but I didn’t want to risk running into the Chief Mage yet, and I also wasn’t totally comfortable sitting and talking with the other mages. They all had mixed feelings about me ranging from ambivalent to downright hateful, but there was one thing they all agreed on – I was not one of them. And no matter how good I got as a mage, I never would be. My shifter eyes and emotional attitude would always set me apart from them, even if I did put on a set of mage robes.

As I ate my food, my eyes wandered around the wide, open space of the kitchen, watching the chefs hard at work chopping, sautéing and stewing. The glint of a kitchen knife being raised in the air sent me flashing back to the time I’d snuck down here to grab some food in the middle of the night – my first night in the Palace, actually. A group of guards had found me down here, and had decided to make easy sport of me. I’d managed to defeat most of them, but I’d been starving and depleted of energy, unable to shift, so in the end they’d gotten the upper hand. If Fenris hadn’t intervened, I might have died that night. He’d chased off the guards, then brought me straight to Iannis, who’d healed me.

A hazy image of Iannis’s face looming above me, tight with concern, drifted into my mind, and guilt stabbed me in the chest. I’d never thanked Iannis for his help that night – I rarely thanked him at all, in fact, because I’d been so angry at the injustice of being held captive and threatened with execution for the simple crime of being born. I’d held him personally responsible for all that was wrong in our society, and sometimes I still thought like that. After all, he might not have created the framework in which we functioned, but he was still our ruler, and there were a lot of things wrong that he needed to fix.

All of which takes time.

Sighing, I handed my finished plate to one of the kitchen staff, then headed back up the steps and toward the West Wing. I knew that the Chief Mage had been busy wading through the administrative mess Argon Chartis, the former Director of the Mage’s Guild, had left behind, and that he was strapped for time. Yes, it wasn’t right that he was neglecting my tutelage as a mage, but I couldn’t have it both ways if I wanted him to fix what was wrong in the city.

Maybe, but that’s no reason he can’t give you some time off to go and hunt bounties for the Guild.

I fought against the urge to gnash my teeth, knowing that walking into the training room angry was only going to make this evening worse. But that was the whole crux of the situation – I wouldn’t be so angry about his lack of time to train me if he’d just let me do my job as an Enforcer so I could earn some money.

I pushed open the training room door, then bit my lip when I saw the open, rectangular space was empty. Checking my watch, I realized that I’d gotten here a few minutes early, so I went and sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor to meditate while I waited for him. No, I wasn’t going to give up on my crusade to make Iannis let me go back to work, but tonight I knew I needed to swallow my pill and keep my mouth shut about it. I’d already pissed him off enough.

Closing my eyes, I placed my hands on the insides of my thighs, then drew a deep breath in through my nostrils. I held it for a moment, then let it out, and tried to visualize my anger and frustration exiting my body along with the breath. It was an exercise Roanas had taught me, and one that he’d found useful in mitigating his own emotions – an important skill for an investigator. I’d never been as good as it as he was – I’d always preferred the physical aspects of Kan Zao, the Garaian martial art he’d taught me, over the mental ones.

I scented the Chief Mage’s approach before I heard his soft footsteps in the hall – his fragrance of sandalwood, musk and magic was unmistakable. My heart began to beat a little faster as the door opened, but I forced myself to take another deep breath and calm down. I didn’t give a damn if he saw me meditating on the floor – at least he’d know I was trying to control myself.

But when his robes swished across the floor in front of me, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer. Nerves prickling, I lifted my head to meet his eyes, wondering what I would see. His face was as impassive as ever, but to my surprise there was no ire in his eyes – just contemplation as he gazed down at me.

“Come,” he finally said, holding out a hand.

I hesitated. “We’re not using the training room today?”

“No. I have something else in mind.”

I took his hand, and warmth flowed down my arm as he wrapped his strong fingers around me. He pulled me up in one effortless motion, and I wondered, not for the first time, about what kind of body lay beneath those blue and gold robes. He was strong, stronger than a man who relied so heavily on magic should be, and I was curious as to just why that was.

As soon as I was on my feet, the Chief Mage dropped my hand, then turned to leave, his robes swirling about behind him. My hand tingled as I followed, and though I itched to ask where we were going, I decided to keep my mouth shut. If he’d wanted me to know, he would have told me already, and I’d decided to do my best not to be annoying tonight.