Marked by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #4)(12)

I perked up. “Oh?”



“This is bullshit,” I grumbled to myself as I pedaled up one of the many very long, very steep hills that Solantha was known for. I was halfway to the Port now, pushing the bicycle the Finance Secretary had bestowed upon me as fast as I could. But even though I had extra-strong muscles as a shifter, they weren’t used to bike riding, and certainly not over long distances with steep hills. A dull ache was starting up in my quads, and it was only going to get worse from here.

At least you’re getting a workout.

I snorted. Yeah, like I really needed one. By Magorah, but I missed my steambike. I wished like hell I’d been able to recover it from Turain, but Danrian’s cronies had probably sold it off to a chop shop weeks ago. I was never going to see my baby again.

You could probably convince Iannis to replace it for you, a little voice murmured in my head. I clenched my jaw at that idea. I was too proud to ask for that kind of gift from Iannis. I was already living in his Palace and eating his food, wasn’t I? I wasn’t going to ask him for money I hadn’t earned on top of it.

No, when this was over and I could start earning money as an enforcer again, I’d buy myself another bike. For now, I had to deal with this hand-me-down. It was one of the bikes the guards used to circle the perimeter during their rounds, and since the guards were conspicuously absent, there was an abundance of bicycles available.

Eventually, I made it to the Port, and I cruised down the boulevard, studying the row of large, stone boathouses that marked the entrance to each pier. The smell of burnt wood still lingered in the air, and I could see wreckage floating in the water – leftovers from the attempted ship robbery the apprentice had mentioned last night.

I finally came to Witches End, and I skidded to a stop as I noticed the entrance to the pier had been barricaded, and was guarded by two stout shopkeepers bearing cudgels. Cautiously, I got off my bike and approached them.

“Hey,” I said, adopting the voice of the acne-covered teenage boy I was pretending to be. “What’s going on?”

The shopkeepers closed ranks, glowering down at me. “This area is off-limits to all humans and shifters,” the one on the left growled in a thick Pernian accent that was much deeper than Comenius’s. I recognized him as Caradin, a magical bladesmith who’d set up shop at the Port about a year ago. I’d been eyeing his wares for a while now, but hadn’t managed to scrape up the coin to buy any as yet. The man next to him was his son. I’d bet those cudgels they wielded were capable of more than breaking bones and causing concussions.

“Look,” I said, lifting my hand. Fire crackled in my palm, and the two jumped, startled. “I’m not a human. Comenius is a friend of mine, and he called me over here. Can you just let me in to see him? I promise I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“How do we know you’re not using a charm to produce that flame?” Caradin demanded.

I rolled my eyes and lifted my arms overhead. “Search me then, if you’re so suspicious.”

“She’s not, Da.” The son’s eyes glowed an eerie blue as he stared at me, and I had a feeling he was searching me. “She is wearing charms, and an illusion of sorts, but both fire and illusion are being produced by her.”

“She?” Caradin demanded, and I tensed. I wasn’t prepared to drop my illusion, not in broad daylight.

“Da, just let it go,” the man hissed.

They shared a long look, then Caradin sighed. “Very well. You may pass.” He moved his big bulk out of the path. “But if you try to blow up any shops, I’ll have your head.” He lifted his cudgel, and I gaped as it morphed into a short sword right before my eyes.

“Damn,” I muttered as I turned away. I’ve gotta get me one of those.

I walked my bike up the pier, noticing that all the shops were boarded up now. This was likely in response to the skirmish that went down by the Port last night. I couldn’t blame the shop owners for being cautious – I would have done the same – but it still made me sad to see the usually thriving shops battened down. It felt like they were huddling close together, bracing for a storm.

A storm that was already in full swing.

Com’s place was boarded up as well, so I trotted up the side staircase and knocked on the entrance to his apartment. Since he was the only close mutual friend Annia and I had, I figured she had to be here.

The door opened, revealing Comenius. His ash-blond hair was messy, and there were bags under his eyes, as though he’d risen from a sleepless night and hadn’t bothered to brush his hair.

“It’s me,” I said, using my normal voice, though I didn’t drop my teenage-boy disguise.

“Come in, come in,” he said hurriedly, waving me inside. He shut the door behind me and double-locked it. I stared at the two strangers sitting on his couch. One was a tall, lean man in his thirties wearing dark sunglasses and a leather jacket, and the other a petite blonde dressed head to toe in denim.

And they both smelled strongly of magic.

“It’s us, Naya.” Annia’s voice came out of the blonde, and I started. “Annia and Elnos.”

“Elnos?” I swung my gaze back to her companion and goggled. The man I stared at looked nothing like the fresh-faced, gangly young mage who was Noria’s boyfriend. “Why the hell are you two disguised like this? What’s going on?”