Taken by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #8)(3)

When the meal finally came to an end, Lady Porgillas tapped her glass with her fork to get everyone’s attention. “Before we begin dancing,” she said, “how about we demonstrate some of our latest achievements? I know there are a few of us here tonight who have recently mastered interesting new spells.”

The crowd reacted enthusiastically to this suggestion, and I buried a groan. This wasn’t the first time I’d been forced to endure a magical “show-and-tell,” and it was always embarrassing because as an apprentice with less than two years of training, I couldn’t very well perform high-level spells. The last thing I needed was people noticing that I was way ahead of the curriculum. So I was always forced to perform some relatively easy spell, and the mages would titter behind their hands at the “cute little apprentice” who was so out of her league.

“This is stupid,” I grumbled to Iannis as the first mage stood up and conjured a flaming bird that soared around the room, showering us with embers. The room gasped when the embers turned into rubies upon hitting the ground. I picked mine up, and it sat in the palm of my hand for a moment before vanishing. I had no doubt the ruby had been real, but manufacturing coins and gemstones without official leave by the Federation was considered illegal, so of course the mage couldn’t let us keep them.

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t show off a little bit,” Iannis said, slipping his hand into mine beneath the table. “After all, we are planning to graduate you early as a ‘fast learner.’ If you don’t demonstrate that you are making above-average progress, it will seem suspicious if we tell them a year from now you are all finished.”

“Really?” I perked right up at that. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Iannis smiled. “I don’t see the harm. Fenris is gone anyway—it won’t affect his safety if you show these mages some of your accomplishments.”

The mention of Fenris sobered us both, and I squeezed his hand. “I wish he was here with us,” I said quietly as we watched another mage perform. “He was supposed to stand with you on our wedding day.”

“The wedding is still over two moons away,” Iannis said. “We may yet hear from him before then.”

Yes, but that didn’t mean Fenris would return to Solantha. And I couldn’t blame him. The Federal Director of Security, Garrett Toring, had come dangerously close to figuring out the truth—if I hadn’t convinced him that Fenris was Polar ar’Tollis’s son, rather than Polar in permanent disguise, he would likely still be on his manhunt right now. Maybe I could convince Fenris to come back if I told him about that cover story, but it was hardly safe to talk about such deadly secrets over the phone.

“I’d like to take a turn,” I announced, standing up. Maybe Fenris couldn’t be with us, but his memories and knowledge were right here, in my head, and I would honor him tonight by making full use of them.

“Of course, Miss Baine,” Lady Porgillas said, gesturing to the makeshift stage that had been set up. “We all would love to see what Lord Iannis has been teaching you.”

A murmur rippled through the room, which I ignored as I took the stage. Everybody knew that masters and apprentices weren’t supposed to engage in an amorous relationship, and Iannis and I had smashed that rule into the dust. Judging from that gossip earlier, people were wondering if the apprenticeship was just a pretext. Well, I’d show them.

“Lord Iannis and I have been practicing weather magic lately,” I announced to the room as I lifted my arms. Several people shifted in their chairs at that, and I gave them a fierce smile as I quietly spoke a complicated spell under my breath. The air in the room stirred to life, a mere breeze at first, but as the magic built, it quickly grew into a raging windstorm. The crowd gasped, ducking down as the chandeliers began to swing wildly. Two curtains were torn down from the windows, and several women shrieked as pins were torn from their hair, their careful coiffures undone by the wild winds. Platters rattled, silverware clattered to the floor, and several wineglasses were toppled, sending rivers of red down the white tablecloths. A veritable tornado had invaded the elegant dining room. It felt amazing, and from the alarmed expressions around me, I was playing right into the cliché of the fierce, dangerous shifter.

Iannis’s eyes widened in warning, and I grinned at him right before snapping my fingers. The storm abruptly stopped, and with another spoken Word and a wave of my hand, the room was put back to normal. The crowd murmured in amazement as the dishes righted themselves, the wine glasses refilled, and the curtains once again hung from their rods, intact and untorn. Not a single hair was out of place on a lady’s head, not one thing in the room broken. Putting the room back together was far more difficult than destroying it, as any trained mage would appreciate, but with Fenris’s knowledge and my own magic, I’d done it flawlessly.

I bowed, and after a split second, the room erupted into applause. Iannis’s eyes were twinkling as I rejoined him at the table, and I kissed him on the cheek before leaning over to meet Lady Porgillas’s shocked face.

“I apologize if I frightened you,” I said, loud enough that my voice carried. “I’m afraid I don’t quite know my own strength sometimes.”

“Oh, no need to apologize,” the lady said, waving my words away with a delicate hand. “You fixed all the damage, which is quite impressive in and of itself. You are a fine teacher, Lord Iannis.”