Taken by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #8)(14)

I glanced up to watch her conjure a thin stream of flame, then shape it into a heart. “Good job!” I said as the other girls squealed. A spark jumped from the flames, alighting on a pile of cleaning rags on a nearby table. To my horror, the rags ignited, and the girls’ squeals turned into screams as flames shot straight toward the ceiling. Rusalia lost control of her fire magic, and the next thing I knew the flames were spreading to the drapes and the carpet and were rapidly headed for a box of dolls in the corner.

“Get back!” I yelled, jumping to my feet. I shoved the girls behind me, then quickly conjured a wave of water. The water splashed over everything, dousing the fire in an instant, but leaving behind the strong reek of damp soot. Sighing, I pushed a hand through my hair and surveyed the damage. The curtains were beyond repair, as was the table those rags were sitting on. The girls seemed unhurt, but they were sooty too, and Rusalia’s skirt had been badly damaged by the fire.

“What happened?” Carlin, the butler, demanded as he rushed into the room. His eyes widened as he surveyed the damage, and he glared at the cowering girls. “Do you have any idea how long this is going to take to clean up?”

Ignoring him, I bent down to sniff at the rags, which had been burnt to a crisp. “Alcohol,” I said, straightening up. “Whose idea was it to leave rags soaked in alcohol in this room?” I planted my hands on my hips as I stared down the butler.

“The playroom was not a priority, with all the guest rooms being readied,” he said stubbornly, refusing to back down. Carlin was a holdover from the previous Chief Mage and had never liked me much. “And I hardly expected the rags to be set on fire. Someone should teach these children to better control their magic!”

“And you should stop acting so high and mighty before I decide to burn you to a crisp,” I growled, stalking over to him. Carlin paled as I jabbed a finger into his chest. “You know damn well that this is the playroom and these children are still learning how to use their magic. Make sure the servants don’t leave cleaning supplies or anything else dangerous in here again.”

“Yes, Miss Baine,” he said grudgingly, bowing his head. I resisted the urge to smack him across his judgmental face—clearly this man had either never dealt with children or had no patience for them. I was going to need to have a chat with the steward about this later—if my own children were going to be running around the palace someday, I definitely wanted to make sure their play spaces were safe. We’d need a trained mage nanny, I realized, or perhaps two, to keep up with them. And perhaps it was time for Carlin to retire to some beachside cottage. What kind of pension package did his job entail? One more thing to find out.

“All right,” I finally said, turning back to the children. “What do you say we go enjoy the rest of our day outside?”



The girls were feeling guilty and scared after the near-disaster in the playroom, but once I managed to coax them outdoors, they quickly forgot about the fire. Soon enough, we were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek. The vast gardens would ordinarily make it quite a challenge, but as I closed my eyes and counted to thirty, I could hear the girls giggling as they scampered off in different directions. I was going to have to make an effort not to find them too fast—I could ferret them out all too easily with my shifter senses.

“Ready or not, here I come!” I called, finally opening my eyes. The girls were nowhere to be seen, but as I stood up, my nose twitched, easily separating out their scents. I decided to follow Tinari first, whose scent was redolent of candy and book binding glue. Pretending to look around and search, I casually made my way around the side of the palace toward the rose garden.

On my way to Tinari’s hiding place, I passed by one of the shallow pools dotting the palace garden. I stopped for a second to admire the glimmering carp swimming below the surface, then frowned as I realized I couldn’t see any. Despite the bright, sunny weather, the water was an odd dark color obscuring the normally clear depths. Had somebody contaminated the water with some kind of dark ink? And what would that do to the poor fish? Drawing closer, I noticed a ripple near the edge closest to me, and the hairs on my arms rose as I scented a strange brand of magic. It was a lot stronger than the usual burnt-sugar smell, with an exotic undertone.

“What the hell is going on here,” I murmured, bending at the waist a little so I could get a better look. I wasn’t stupid enough to let the dark water touch me—if there was some kind of spell at work, that might not be safe. I was just about to call to the gardener when a giant pale hand shot out of the water and grabbed me around the waist.

“Hey!” I yelled, shock and horror filling me as I struggled against the fist. What the hell was going on here? I blasted it with fire, but the flames had no effect as the hand yanked me beneath the surface of the pool. The water was only four feet deep, so I expected to hit the ground instantly, but instead I was dragged deeper, and deeper, until the water pressure was unbearable. My head was splitting, my lungs were bursting for air, and there was only cold darkness. Not a single life form was around me aside from the giant fist crushing my ribs, not even the flash of a fish scale.

By Magorah, I thought dimly as I began to lose consciousness. My struggles grew feeble as I ran out of air and lethargy weighed down my limbs. Am I about to die?





7





Just when I was certain I was about to expire from lack of oxygen, the hand hurled me out of the water. I crashed into the grassy earth at full speed, and would have cursed when I felt my nose crack if I hadn’t been so busy coughing up gallons of water.