Taken by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #8)(15)

“What the ever-loving fuck?” I managed to gasp when I’d finally expelled the last of the water from my lungs. Sputtering, I rolled onto my back and pressed a hand to my nose. It was already healing, but I sped up the process with a little burst of magic as I stared up at the sky. It was still blue, and the sun was shining between the puffy white clouds, but the air was a good twenty degrees colder and the scents around me were unfamiliar. What the hell had happened? Where was I? None of the magic I’d studied explained the trick with the giant fist, and there was nothing in Fenris’s memories to explain it either.

“She looks like a drowned rat,” a female voice sneered in a strange language, and I froze. Pushing myself up, I twisted around to see that three women were standing a short distance away, staring at me. There was also a little boy hiding in the branches of an old tree nearby. I’d been so discombobulated by my arrival that I hadn’t noticed them at first.

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded as I struggled to my feet. Fenris’s knowledge allowed me to understand her—she was speaking some version of Manucan, an old dialect. My shoes were filled with water, and my damp clothes were working against me. Scanning the area briefly, I saw that I was standing in the garden of an old country house made of gray stone, partially overgrown with moss and ivy. While it looked ancient, the mansion was in good repair, and the gardens had a variety of well-trimmed trees and bushes. Everything but the house and sky was in shades of lush green, and the air was damper than back in Canalo.

The three ladies standing before me were regarding me with various expressions of disdain or curiosity. The one on the right, silver-haired and hunched with age, seemed the kindest, her pale blue eyes shining with worry and excitement. The one in the center was middle-aged, and my eyes widened as I took in her silver-threaded dark red hair and her violet eyes. And the one on the left, who stood far taller than the others…

“I am Ta’sradala,” she said imperiously, looking down at me from her straight nose. She wore a pale green gossamer gown and had long hair the exact same shade as Iannis’s cascading around her willowy frame. Her shimmering violet eyes were narrowed with disdain, and her mouth was curled back into a sneer, but even these things did not detract from her ageless beauty. Her alabaster skin glowed as if power simmered just beneath the surface, and by the way the air shifted subtly around her, I expected that it did. "And you, little beast, are not worthy to stand before me.”

“Let me guess,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and mustering all my bravado, because I was not about to let these women see that, inside, I was starting to quake in my boots. “You’re Iannis’s grandmother, and you”—I turned to the middle-aged woman—“are his mother.”

“Ennartha ar’Sannin,” she said, inclining her head slightly. Unlike Ta’sradala, her expression was blank, but I had no doubt that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me. “Welcome to Manuc, Miss Baine.”

“Welcome indeed,” Ta’sradala scoffed. “We should smite her right where she stands. I will not allow such riffraff to mingle with my bloodline.”

“Excuse me?” I snapped, taking a step toward her. My shock was quickly dissipating as fury took its place. “I don’t care who you are or how powerful you are. You don’t have the right to yank me from my home and then insult me on top of it.”

Ta’sradala laughed, and the sound was beautiful and horrible all at once, like chimes that were out of tune. “You should be thankful you are not actually on my doorstep, or you would be dead,” she said. “Though perhaps I will send you to the Tua realm, just to see if your feeble body can handle it.”

“You two are being rude,” the elderly woman chided, moving toward me. I stiffened, keeping my guard up, but I didn’t scent any ill intent from her as she patted my arm. “I am Deryna, Iannis’s aunt. My nephew has very good judgment—he must have seen something in you. I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss her, Ta’sradala,” she said to the Tua woman. “Why don’t we get to know each other before doing anything hasty?”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Ta’sradala said coldly. “As the matriarch, I have the right to decide whether or not this…hybrid…is worthy of marrying my grandson. And so far, I am not impressed.”

“And just how the hell do you know that?” I demanded, pushing Deryna’s hand aside and taking another step toward Iannis’s grandmother. She towered over me, at least eight feet tall, but I refused to be cowed. “You haven’t stopped flapping your lips since you yanked me out of that pool. You don’t know anything about me.”

The air around Ta’sradala crackled with power as she bared her teeth. “Why you insolent little mongrel—”

“I’m a feline, not a dog,” I cut her off before she could finish her sentence. “Not that it matters. Being called a mongrel would be a compliment compared to what I’d like to call you.” My gaze fell on the little boy cowering in the trees, who looked terrified at the confrontation. Who the hell was he? But if I asked, I would call attention to the child, which I couldn’t bring myself to do. He was pale and trembling.

“You are very impertinent,” Ennartha said, speaking up for the first time since she’d introduced herself. She was frowning slightly now, as if not sure what to make of me. “While it is long past time for Iannis to settle down, I had not thought he would pick someone this raw and uncouth. Even a human might have been preferable. Still, perhaps we should let her speak, Mother. Since Iannis isn’t here to shed light on the matter of his strange choice, maybe she can.”