Hunted by Magic (19 page)

“I believe you have rooms reserved for the delegation from Canalo,” I told her. “Can I have the keys now, to inspect them?”

A frown creased the woman’s smooth forehead. “The delegates from Canalo?” She pulled a large, leather-bound book from a drawer and placed it atop the desk, which like many other things in this hotel seemed to be entirely carved from crystal. “We already checked in the delegates from Canalo – one delegate to be precise. A Mr. Cirin Garidano.”

“Yes, he was the only one who could make it out initially,” I said, impatience tinging my voice. “The rest of the delegation was delayed, but we are here now. Unless you’d rather I tell the Chief Mage of Canalo that the Crystal Hotel took his money and then gave the rooms to someone else?” I arched an eyebrow at the concierge.

The woman’s skin turned ice-white, and she quickly excused herself before hurrying into a back room, presumably to consult with someone. A few moments later, a manager came out, and there was some hurried discussion as they tried to figure out what to do.

“Ma’am, I apologize for the inconvenience, but it does appear that your rooms were mistakenly assigned to other guests.” The manager bowed his head, sounding very apologetic. “I can recommend another hotel for your delegates to stay in, if you’d like, and we shall of course refund your deposit and provide compensation for the inconvenience.”

“Compensation?” I hissed, curling my fingers around the edge of the reception desk and leaning in close. “Are you suggesting that I tell Lord Iannis, the Chief Mage of Canalo, that the Crystal Hotel was so desperate for coin that they couldn’t hold his reservation for a few days? And that your idea of ‘compensation’ is to give him
money
when he has more than enough gold?”

The manager’s cheek’s reddened. “We are not desperate,” he said stiffly. “This is a prestigious hotel, and our hotel rooms are very much in demand. You can’t expect us to hold a room for an entire week.”

“Very well,” I said lightly, easing back from the counter. “I’ll simply mention to the other delegates that the Crystal Hotel would rather turn out a Chief Mage in favor of putting up some vacationers instead. I’m sure you will be very popular at the next Convention.” I turned away.

“Wait!” the manager cried as I took a step toward the exit.

I paused, looking over my shoulder at him. “Yes?”

“Please, come back ma’am.” The manager gave me a pained smile. “I’m sure that we can work something out.”

It took them nearly twenty minutes, but with some fancy maneuvering they managed to vacate the original suite for Iannis. However, as I had no reservation, they couldn’t get a separate room for me, so I was given the choice between sharing a suite with the Finance Secretary and the other delegates, or taking the extra room in Iannis’s suite.

I wasn’t exactly comfortable with either, but I had a lot of questions for Iannis so I figured sharing a suite with him would be my best bet. So I smiled and thanked the concierge, then took the keys to our suite and made my way up to the third floor by way of one of the elevators.

The suite was pretty much what I expected – white couches, carpeting, and curtains; crystal vases and glass tables; and huge windows that overlooked the city as well as the Eastern Sea beyond. Too tired to enjoy the view, I wandered into the smaller bedroom and flopped onto the bed, then groaned as my body sank into the soft mattress.

Turning my head, I noticed a phone on my nightstand, so I picked it up and asked the operator to connect me to the Golden Tree Inn. The phone rang for a few moments before someone from the front desk answered, and I asked them to connect me to Annia’s room.

“H’llo?” a sleepy voice slurred.

“Hey there. Just wanted to check in and see if you got that feather mattress you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Annia groaned, and I had the idea she was stretching her back. “This bed is ridiculously comfortable, and the room is incredible. Amazing what you can buy with a huge pouch of gold. It’s almost enough to make me forget about cashing in on the bounty. Almost.”

“Hey, well if you want to share some of that bounty money with yours truly, my pockets are wide open.” I chuckled a little. Iannis had given Annia said huge pouch of gold, along with the Golden Tree Inn as a recommendation for lodgings since she couldn’t very well stay with us. The airship we had commandeered would be confiscated by the Federation since it belonged to the Resistance, but Iannis planned to hook her up with another pilot with a larger ship, and the two of them would lead reinforcements back to the Resistance camp to round up the rebel soldiers.

“So what’s the Convention like?” Annia asked, sounding marginally more alert now. “I hope you’re not getting too much snob on you from all that elbow-rubbing.”

I snorted. “I don’t think I’m in any danger of that,” I told her. “The mage who greeted us kicked me out of the Capitol Building because they were hosting a delegates-only dinner. I was sent off to procure hotel rooms and clothing for everyone instead.”

“Clothing?” Annia perked right up at that. “Does that mean you’re going shopping?”

I paused. “I guess I am,” I said reluctantly. “Although considering how late it is, not until tomorrow morning.”

“Well, the pilot I’m supposed to meet up with isn’t getting in until the afternoon, so I’ll meet you in the shopping district at what, ten a.m.? We’ll make a girls’ date out of it.”

I snorted with laughter. “I’m not sure how Iannis is going to feel about the two of us parading around Dara spending his gold.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to make it worthwhile, won’t we?”

A
fter getting
off the phone with Annia, I crashed so hard that I never heard Iannis come into the suite. But the scent of coffee roused me bright and early from my slumber, and as my nose twitched, scenting the air, I also caught the briefest whiff of Iannis’s scent.

Sitting up, I rubbed at my bleary eyes and checked the crystal clock on my nightstand. Seven fifteen. Far too early for a nocturnal panther girl to be awake. But Iannis was going to have to leave for the Convention sooner rather than later, so I hopped out of bed, snagged the fluffy white robe hanging on the outside of my bathroom door, then belted it around my waist before wandering out into the living area.

Iannis stood behind the glossy island countertop in the kitchen, already dressed in a set of blue and gold robes with the Canalo Mages Guild Emblem stitched above his heart. He glanced over at me from above the rim of his mug as he sipped his coffee, violet eyes studying me as I made a beeline for the coffee pot.

“I noticed that you didn’t procure clothing or toiletries last night,” he said mildly as I poured myself a steaming cup of my own.

“Yeah well, by the time I was done wrestling with the concierge and manager downstairs, I was pretty pooped.” I added a hefty amount of cream and sugar to my coffee, then lifted the mug in both hands and blew across the top to cool the piping-hot liquid. “I figured you guys could make do with the hotel-provided stuff in the meantime, and it looks like you’re still working that illusion.”

“I’m actually not,” Iannis said dryly. “These are Cirin’s robes. He and I are of a similar size, so he leant me a set. The other delegates will have to make do, but it is rather unbecoming of us to show up wearing illusionary clothing. Other mages can tell.”

I blinked. “They can?”

“Just like Fenris and I were able to see the wards around the Resistance camp, a well-trained mage can detect illusion. That is, they can tell that there is some kind of magic being used, and it wouldn’t take much to deduce what kind. At least a few of my colleagues are bound to notice.” Iannis arched an eyebrow. “It would be embarrassing for a Chief Mage to be unable to afford proper clothing.”

“Yeah, I get it.” I took a sip of my coffee, then closed my eyes and enjoyed the taste of rich, creamy caffeine sinking into my tongue. “I’m going shopping this morning, so I’ll get all your stuff. Would help if I knew your measurements, though.”

“I already wrote them down, as well as those of the other delegates.” Iannis pulled a small, black leather notebook from his sleeve, tore out a cream-colored page, and handed it to me. “I suggest you procure robes for yourself too, and formalwear for all of us. There will be a ball tonight that is open to special guests as well as the delegates and their associates. I would like you to attend and make use of those heightened senses of yours.”

“Sounds good.” Nervous energy bounced through me as I tucked the piece of paper into the front pocket of my robe. I’d never been to a formal ball before, and I wasn’t sure what would be expected of me. Was I going to have to socialize with the other mages? Were people going to ask me to dance?

“All of the above,” Iannis confirmed.

I blinked. “Huh? Were…were you reading my
mind
?”

“It wasn’t necessary. You were talking out loud.”

“Oh.” A blush rose to my cheeks, and I pressed a hand to my lips, then picked up my mug again. I took another drink – though the coffee didn’t actually work on me, just like other drugs, I still liked the taste, and the morning ritual helped wake me up. As my head finally began to clear, another question popped into my head, one I’d been meaning to ask but hadn’t had the opportunity yet.

“When we were escaping from the Coazi, how is it that you were able to run so fast and for so long?” I asked. “Unless I’m mistaken, you can’t just spell yourself that way, and you didn’t have any charms that would boost your speed or energy.”

Iannis went still beneath my gaze, and if I didn’t know better I would have thought he was nervous. “It’s not something I like to discuss,” he said carefully.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” My gaze narrowed. “Back on the Firegate Bridge, when you did that weird thing where you slipped inside my body with me.” Chills still vibrated through me whenever I relived that moment – it had been truly unreal. “You’re only going to be able to get away with that for so long before I start investigating.”

Iannis scowled. “You’ve no right to go digging into my past,” he snapped. “My business is just that, mine.”

I folded my arms across my chest and scowled right back. “This may come as a surprise to you, but you’re not a one-man show anymore, buddy. Especially not since you decided to bind us together by giving me a charm that, apparently, is usually exchanged by couples who are married or who intend to get married.” I tugged the
serapha
charm from beneath the fluffy collar of my robe and held it up. “Were you ever gonna tell me about
that
one?”

Iannis frowned. “It wasn’t intended as a wedding gift at the time I gave it to you. Who told you that?”

“Comenius and Elania, his witch girlfriend.” I tried to ignore the little jab to my heart at his rejection. “They’re not even mages, so that means this sort of thing is public knowledge.”

Iannis sighed, running his long fingers through his cherrywood locks. They gleamed in the morning sunlight streaming through the picture window to his left, the rays highlighting the notes of red and making his violet eyes glow.

“You said that you wanted me to trust you more, right?” I persisted. “Well that means you’ve got to do some trusting yourself. Whatever secret you’re sitting on, I promise it will never leave this room. And it would really help, the next time you rope me into some kind of magical spell, if you told me all the fine print.”

Iannis cracked a smile. “Very well. I will endeavor to do so, although I doubt such a situation will come up very often. As to my abilities…they come from a part of my heritage that is only known to a select few.”

My ears perked right up at that. “And that would be…?”

“My mother. She is half-Tua.”

“What?”
I nearly dropped my coffee cup. Dark liquid sloshed over the side, and I yelped as the hot liquid splattered across my hand and stained the sleeve of my shirt. Setting the cup down on the table, I hastily grabbed the sponge sitting near the kitchen sink and used it to mop up the spill as best I could. I grimaced as I dabbed at the dark stain across my pristine robe – that wasn’t going to be easy to get out.

“Here, let me help you.” Iannis was at my side, gently taking the sponge from my hand. My breath caught as I felt the heat radiating from his body, and I bit my lower lip as his fingers gently grasped the wrist of the hand I’d burned.

“Are you alright?” he asked. I hissed as he stroked his thumb over my skin.

“I’ll live.” The skin had been bright red, but the color was already fading thanks to my superhuman healing abilities. “Not the first time I’ve burned myself.”

“And probably not the last, either.” Iannis’s lips twitched as he stretched out the cloth of the robe and briskly rubbed the sponge over it. “You know, this isn’t really necessary. The hotel staff will launder the robe and provide you with another. All you have to do is toss this into the hamper.”

“You’re trying to change the subject,” I managed, fighting against the heat spreading through my body. I didn’t point out that if I tossed my robe in the hamper, I would be left without a stitch of clothing on – the right side of my robe had slipped from my shoulder, and Iannis’s gaze was fixed on the patch of bare skin I’d inadvertently revealed. “You were telling me about how your mother is half-Tua.” Something I was still having trouble wrapping my head around. The Tua were an ancient, near-mythical race that dwelled in a world that was anchored to our own world, Recca. When they did cross over to our world, they were commonly sighted in Manuc, which I understood to be Iannis’s homeland. The lore surrounding them suggested that they predated human life.

“Yes.” With a little sigh, Iannis dropped my arm and tossed the sponge over his shoulder. It landed in the sink with a wet plop, and I arched my eyebrow at the effortlessly perfect aim. “My grandmother on my mother’s side is Tua, and so my mother is half. As you may know, the Tua are near-immortal, and have powerful abilities beyond the scope of human comprehension. If not for the fact that they generally enjoy their own world more than ours, I shudder to think what would become of us.”

I arched an eyebrow. “It sounds like you’re afraid of them.”

“It would be foolish not to be.” Iannis’s eyes were hard, glittering chips of amethyst now. “They are largely amoral as a race, and any interaction they have with our world is but a trifling amusement, such as when my grandmother decided to take a human lover. She abducted my grandfather shortly after he was married and bewitched him. Not unlike what Halyma did to me, but Tua magic is infinitely more powerful. She eventually returned him to his wife when she tired of him, but he was never the same, from what I understand. It took him over a year to recover and move on with his life, and not long after that his Tua lover dropped my infant mother on their doorstep before walking away once again.”

“Wait a minute.” I held up a hand as I tried to digest this. “A year? I thought babies had to be in the womb for nine months?”

Iannis shrugged. “Time moves differently in the Tua realm. In any case, my grandfather’s wife was gracious enough to take my mother in as her own, and they raised her as best they could, considering she had powers they didn’t know what to do with. Eventually she became too much for them to control, and they handed her over to the Dromach, a sect of mages in Manuc who are specially trained to deal with the Tua and charged with maintaining the walls that separate Recca from their realm. It was amongst them that she met and married my father, nearly a thousand years ago.”

“A thousand?” I echoed faintly. “Just how old does that make you?”

Iannis smiled slightly. “I believe it’s not polite to ask one’s age.”

I snorted. “That only applies to women, and you know it.” My eyes narrowed as I considered him. “So what exactly did you inherit from your half-Tua mother, then?”

“For one, a longer lifespan than the average mage,” Iannis admitted. “Barring accidents such as tumbling from an airship, I might live to three thousand years of age, if not longer. My lifespan is one of the reasons why my heritage is little known – most mages of my age are nearing the end of their life and show signs of it, when they aren’t using illusion to disguise their wrinkles. It is easy enough to fabricate a history for myself.”

“By Magorah.” I shook my head. “So when I’m old and grey and lying on my deathbed, you’ll still be baby-faced?”

“I don’t know that baby-faced is the right term, but yes.” A troubled expression briefly crossed Iannis’s face. “But as a half-mage, your lifespan should be longer than the average shifter’s.”

“Well that’s good to know,” I said lightly even as my heart sank. For some reason, even though it didn’t matter, I didn’t like the idea that Iannis would look exactly the same as he did now when I was old and grey. I wondered if he would become more aloof with age, or if he would soften up and show more emotion as the years went by. And what about me? Would I become more stern and emotionless like the mages, the more I spent time among them? Or would I retain the wildness of my shifter heritage?

“Okay, so being a quarter Tua means you live super long and you get to run fast, amongst other things?”

“I have a few other tricks up my sleeve, like my healing talent, but yes.” Iannis inclined his head, his lips curling up at the corners. “I can actually run much faster than what you’ve seen, but there was little point in leaving you and Fenris in the dust. Besides, I’m accustomed to hiding my speed, since if my peers noticed they could easily deduce that I’m not a full-mage.”

“Lord Iannis, are you in there?” the Finance Secretary called, interrupting our conversation as he rapped on the door. “I have urgent news.”

Iannis was instantly behind my shoulder as I undid the locks and opened the door. The Finance Secretary was dressed in blue-black robes, the Canalo Mages Guild emblem sewn onto his breast. There was a tightness around his eyes as he inclined his head briefly at me, then swept into the room with a large leather notebook tucked underneath his arm.

“You look agitated, Cirin,” Iannis remarked as I shut the door behind him. “What is this urgent news?”

“I just got word that Zavian Graning is resigning his post as Federation Minister. We’re expected to cast votes for his successor on the last day of the Convention, so I suggest you start thinking about your choice now.”

“Resigning?” Iannis asked, sounding highly alarmed. “Why?”

“For health reasons, apparently.” Cirin perched on the edge of one of the white sofas, his dark eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “I’ve no idea as to the nature of his malady, but it must be very serious to prompt such a sudden resignation. When I arrived at the Convention the Minister did seem a little lackluster, but I didn’t think he was that ill.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Iannis argued. “The Minister is a mere four-hundred years old – he should still be in excellent health.”

“Umm, I hate to interrupt,” I said, “but are we talking about the same Minister who’s presiding the Convention?”

“Yes,” Iannis said tightly. “Along with his staff, he organizes the Convention every two years. When it is not in session he ensures Federation law is executed in the various states, and maintains the Federation’s foreign relations.”

“His office is also tasked with bringing any Chief Mage or other high-ranking official who violates the Great Accord in any way to justice,” Cirin added.

Such as Fenris
, I wanted to say, but I kept that bit to myself – I doubted the Finance Secretary was privy to Fenris’s true identity. Part of me wanted to say that the Minister could fuck off, but the more rational part of me recognized that if Iannis thought his sudden deterioration was suspicious, there was likely a larger game afoot. It sounded like this Minister was even more important than Iannis. “Do you think the Resistance is involved with this in some way?”