Hunted by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #3)(55)

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain faded. I opened my eyes to see that my hand was healed, and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“There you are.” Iannis let my hand fall to my side, and as I looked up at him, I was surprised to see his face was paler than usual. Maybe healing exhausted him more than I thought. “Are you alright now? I need to go speak to the other delegates.”

“I’m fine,” I said, biting back the questions that sprang to my lips. I stood to the side as Iannis went to talk to Fenris and the delegates, feeling a little bereft but knowing I couldn’t monopolize his company. The way the delegates blinked in the light as they spoke to Iannis, a combination of awe and gratitude on their faces, was a little bemusing since I was used to seeing little to no emotion on their faces. But I guess being rescued from impending execution after several days of forced drug injections and incarceration would bring out emotion in anyone.

I wondered if Chartis would survive the blood loss, gulaya or not. The detached part of his leg lay buried under the rubble by now. But then, he was a powerful mage in his own right, and I imagined he’d be nearly as hard to kill as Iannis.

Bosal ar’Nuris, the Education Secretary, spotted me standing by the mineshaft entrance and struggled to his feet. Fenris caught him by the elbow and helped him the rest of the way, and when I realized he was making his way toward me I closed the distance so he wouldn’t have to walk so far.

“Thank you for coming back for us,” Bosal said, his voice steady despite the rings of exhaustion around his eyes. His long, pale hair was scraggly, his robes stained with dirt and who knew what else, but despite his ordeal he held himself with the dignity I’d come to expect of mages. “I am ashamed to say that I worried you might not, but glad that I misjudged you.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled and extended my hand. “I guess us shifters aren’t so bad after all?”

“I don’t know about all of them, but you and Fenris here are all right. I will try to keep an open mind about your species.” He patted Fenris’s hand, which was still firmly wrapped around his arm, then shook my offered hand. “If I can ever be of service to you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The next couple of hours were spent rounding up the soldiers and securing the camp. With Chartis gone, it was easy enough for Iannis and the delegates to tamper with the wards, making it so that only mages could pass through the perimeter of the camp and effectively trapping the soldiers inside. The soldiers tried to stop us when they saw what we were doing, but between Annia, Fenris, and I, we managed to hold them off until the mages could finish their work. Once the soldiers were secured, we set up camp near the airship so that we could rest for a while and Iannis and Fenris could heal the delegates.

“By Magorah,” I groaned to Annia, collapsing onto my bedroll, which I’d laid out in the middle of the grass. “I’m exhausted. How the hell does he do it?” I turned to look at Iannis, who was kneeling on the ground next to the ancient Legal Secretary. His hand was pressed against the other mage’s forehead as he performed a healing spell. He’d been working on that particular delegate for at least twenty minutes, his eyes closed in concentration and his hands glowing with magic.

“I’ve heard that a mage’s power grows along with their lifespan,” Annia, who was stretched out next to me, commented. “Maybe Iannis is really old. Have you never asked his age? Fenris might know. They age so slowly and use magic to make themselves look pretty, so I guess anything’s possible.”

“True.” I bit my lip as I studied Iannis’s smooth, unlined face and handsome features. It would be a shame if it turned out he was actually a wizened old man using magic to hide his features. But that seemed unlikely, considering how fit he was. An old mage might be able to hide his wrinkles, but that didn’t mean he could make his body run like a young man’s.

Once Iannis was done healing the others, he gathered us around for a meeting. “We need to take off for Dara immediately,” he said. “As much as I’d like to stay and interrogate the soldiers here, the Convention is paramount, and we’ve already lost too much time.”

“I agree, but the situation in Solantha also requires urgent intervention,” Fenris said. “The Council did not take your disappearance well. All hell had broken loose by the time we left, only two days after your disappearance.”

“We can’t leave these Resistance members out here by themselves,” one of the delegates’ assistants protested. “If they have another mage in their employ, they could easily be freed. They must be taken back to Solantha and brought to justice.” From the coldness in his voice, it was clear what kind of justice he had in mind.

“We are not going to leave them here by themselves,” Iannis said. “I agree that it would be unwise to do so, and we cannot all fit on that small, rickety airship. Miss Melcott here is the only one who can pilot it, so she will be coming along, as well as Miss Baine. That means I can only take two more along.”

“I’ll be staying here,” Fenris said. “I’m happy to work with whoever you choose to stay behind, interrogating the prisoners and keeping the camp secure until reinforcements arrive.” It didn’t surprise me that he was volunteering to stay behind – given his history, I figured he’d want to stay well away from the Convention. “We might also try to signal to Director Chen’s airship for transport back home.”