Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #7)(11)

Rylan came back a minute later with the family in tow. The couple was in their late twenties, the husband dressed in a clean but slightly faded suit, the wife in a dress that had been mended once or twice. The child, on the other hand, sported a brand-new woolen coat and shiny shoes. Not a rich family, but one that skimped and scraped to provide well for their child.

“Miss Baine, this is the Barning family,” Rylan said. He introduced them by name—Leo and Rana, and their son, Durian. The parents were polite, but reserved, whereas the boy stared at me with open curiosity, his golden-brown eyes bright with questions.

“Very pleased to meet you all,” I said, smiling. “Please, have a seat.”

They did as I asked, the mother scooping her son into her lap as there were only two chairs. “Can you really turn into a panther?” the boy asked eagerly before the parents could say anything.

“Hush, Durian,” his mother scolded, her cheeks coloring. “I’m so sorry,” she said to me, her tone apologetic. “He’s very rambunctious.”

“As boys should be.” My smile widened as I looked at him. “I can turn into a panther,” I confirmed. “Normally, I would be happy to show you, but I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time today—there are other people coming here to visit me.”

“Oh.” The boy looked disappointed, but he quickly bounced back. “Will you take me back to the Palace with you if I have magic?”

I laughed, then turned my gaze back to the mother. “Your son is eager to be a mage, is he?”

“It would appear so,” she said, and she didn’t sound entirely pleased about it. “Since he was old enough to talk, he’s been fascinated with mages and magic. We didn’t think anything of it, of course, but recently…” She trailed off, looking at her husband.

The husband picked up the conversation. “There have been some strange incidents,” he said, his expression grave. “Objects appearing and disappearing around the house—the icebox appeared in the bedroom once. Another time, I was looking for the radio only to find it in the front seat of my car. I thought Durian was simply playing pranks, but one day while we were entertaining guests, our coffee table rose straight up into the air and floated into Durian’s bedroom.”

My eyebrows rose. “That definitely sounds magical to me. Have these incidents ever occurred outside the home?”

The mother shook her head. “No, not yet.” She stroked the top of her son’s head. “And Durian has denied these incidents are his responsibility, but you know how children are.” She tightened her hold on him a little. “We just want to be sure.”

“It really wasn’t my fault,” Durian said earnestly, squirming against his mother’s iron grip. “But I do want to do magic! Please tell me I have some.”

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or shake my head. This poor family! It was clear the parents didn’t want Durian to be a mage, but Durian wanted it more than anything. Then again, he was only seven years old, with a wild imagination, so of course the idea of having magic appealed to him.

“I’ll have to test you to find out,” I said gravely. “Can you please come over by my side of the desk?”

Durian probably would have jumped straight across the desk and into my lap if his mother hadn’t restrained him. He hurried around the desk to my side, and I turned my chair to face him. Despite his wish, I really hoped he didn’t have magic. His parents clearly loved him, and it would be better if he was raised with his own family rather than in a mage household with strangers.

“All right,” I said, settling my hands on his shoulders. “I need you to hold very still. Can you do that?”

He nodded vigorously, then stilled completely.

“Good. Now close your eyes.”

He did as I asked, and I placed my hands on either side of his head, making sure my thumbs were pressed against his temples. Closing my own eyes, I murmured the Words of the testing spell Iannis had taught me, then allowed my magic to flow through Durian. It raced through the little boy, searching for the source of power that existed within the soul of every magic user. But though there were a few sparks that every living creature possessed, there was no burning core of power within.

“I’m sorry, Durian,” I said, gently lowering my hands. “You don’t have any magic. You’re a perfectly normal human.”

The boy opened his eyes, and I cringed inwardly as his lower lip wobbled. His mother instantly snatched him up as he began to cry, murmuring soothing words, but it was clear from her expression that she was relieved. The father thanked me profusely, and I promised to send someone to check on their house—someone had probably just hexed their property.

The next petitioner was ushered in—Lamar Vestes, a market vendor I recognized from Rowanville’s Market Street. He was a rotund, bearded man with ruddy cheeks, a white apron, and a smile for everyone, but right now, his eyes were narrowed with anger, his lips compressed with frustration.

“My hams and sausages were set on fire yesterday,” he complained, his back ramrod straight and his hands folded behind his back. “An entire day’s worth of work, gone up in flames because of some pesky mage! Please, Miss Baine, these setbacks could wreck my livelihood. I need your help in apprehending the culprit.”

I pulled out my notepad and pen. “Can you give me a description of the person who set your wares on fire?” I couldn’t blame the man for being upset—his meats were delicious and fetched a pretty penny on Market Street.