Taken by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #8)(19)

“Well excuse me, your highness,” I sneered, giving her a mocking bow. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to change my clothes after nearly being drowned at sea for two days.” Or had it been three? I’d honestly lost track of time—for all I knew I’d been out there a fucking week.

“Don’t test me, mortal,” she said, her eyes flicking over me in a brief perusal. “You should count yourself lucky that I brought you back at all.”

“Well of course you did,” I said sweetly. “How could you test me again if you didn’t?”

“I think Sunaya passed with flying colors,” Deryna said before the Tua could lash out at me again. “She made it through the storm with her life, and relatively unhurt, too. That took guts and perseverance.”

“She cheated,” Ta’sradala said coldly. “If she hadn’t come upon that fishing vessel, she likely would not have made it.”

“How is that cheating?” I protested. “You never said I couldn’t use outside help.” Of course, if she’d bothered to spell out her “rules,” I’d have told her I refused to play her ridiculous games. How was I supposed to win against brute power like hers?

“I think we should consider it a draw,” Ennartha said. “I have to admit she did better than I thought. She has a poor grasp of magic but showed an undeniably strong will to survive.” She regarded me with cool violet eyes that seemed to pass right through me, and I had to subdue a sudden desire to stick out my tongue. I felt like I’d been dragged into the principal’s office.

“While you guys decide whether or not I lived up to your ridiculous standards,” I interrupted, “is there anywhere I can grab a shower and a change of clothes? Or would you prefer I continue to drip all over your carpet and make it stink like a ‘drowned rodent?’”

Ta’sradala gave me a cutting glare, but Deryna stepped forward with a soothing smile. “Of course there is,” she said, taking me by the arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit.”

Deryna led me to the bathing room, where I was allowed a few moments of privacy to soak in the magically filled tub and wash all the salt and grime from my body. As much as I hated my circumstances, I had to admit the hot water felt amazing, and for a few moments I let my troubles slip away as I let the bath do its magic. Maybe I could even raid the larder before Ta’sradala sent me off to whatever new hellhole she’d devised for me. I’d make damn sure I stuffed my magical sleeve full of as much food as I could carry.

After I finished with my bath, I donned the dress that Deryna had left—a shapeless cotton frock that was at least warm, though not exactly flattering. I considered magically changing it into something more stylish, but my energy was still low, and I needed to conserve it for something more useful.

With a growling stomach urging me on, I snuck back down the stairs to loot the kitchen. Thankfully it was not near the sitting room, and I was able to slip in without alerting Ta’sradala or the others. I had no doubt that the bitch would try to starve me if she knew I was going after food, simply because it would increase my chances of failing.

How in Recca could this awful woman be related to Iannis? She was one of the most vindictive, heartless people I’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. And her daughter didn’t exactly give me the warm and fuzzies either. Iannis, while stern at times, still had a heart. He had compassion, and more often than not tried to do the right thing. He didn’t toy with people’s lives simply because he had nothing better to do.

As I approached the kitchen, I heard the sound of a knife chopping against a cutting board and scented two people inside. Pushing open the door, I saw a wizened old cook with a large apron over her gown. She was slicing bread, while the little boy I’d spied earlier in the garden was sitting on a stool, gnawing at a slice of that bread and a hunk of cheese. The kitchen was old-fashioned in a charming sort of way, with garlands of dried herbs and garlic hanging from the ceiling, faded wooden cabinets, and even a wood-burning range stove. The pantry door was propped open, and my mouth watered at the smell of dried meats and cheeses.

“Can I have something to eat, please?” I asked as I closed the door behind me.

The cook lowered her knife and regarded me with suspicion. The boy was staring at me, wide-eyed and fearful. His throat moved as he swallowed, and I scented his anxiety. I wondered once again who he was—unlike the old ladies, he wore simple clothing, and yet he didn’t seem to be a servant either. He had sad, lonely eyes and was far too skinny for his age and height.

“I’ll have to ask the mistress first,” the cook said. “Let me check with her.”

I stifled a groan as she left the room—couldn’t she have given me a bit of bread, at least? Were her hands really tied that tightly? I wondered which of the women was the “mistress” here. Was it Deryna, or Ennartha, Iannis’s mother? Surely it wasn’t his grandmother—she’d made it clear that she didn’t actually live in the human world. She probably had a grand mansion or castle in the Tua realm and considered this country house little more than a hut.

With nothing to do but listen to my stomach growl, I approached the boy. “Don’t worry,” I said as he shrank back. “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Sunaya. What’s yours?”

“Drawe,” he mumbled, looking up at me through lowered lashes. His eyes were blue, like Deryna’s, but he had a mop of dark red hair, like Iannis, and there was something in the shape of his nose and chin that reminded me of him too.