Hunted by Magic (10 page)

Unfortunately, the forest terrain meant I couldn’t run at top speed, so I could hear Daresh crashing through the underbrush behind me. Sailing over a fallen tree log, I gave one last burst of speed, then took a flying leap into a tree. I scrambled up until I was out of the tiger’s reach, digging my claws into the bark for purchase, then clung to a thick branch and changed back into human form.

The tiger shifter came into view just as the white light faded from my eyes, and I watched as he skidded to a stop in front of the tree. His orange eyes glowed malevolently as he snarled, but before he could jump up into the tree after me, I shot out my hand and shouted a Word. Ice blasted from my palm, and the tiger yelped, jumping back out of the way before the stream of magic hit him. It hit the ground instead, and a sheet of ice crackled across the surface like the top of a frozen lake. Except this was summer, so the ice started melting immediately.

Okay, so maybe using ice wasn’t such a great idea. I would have preferred fire, but I didn’t want to risk catching the entire forest ablaze.

Growling, the tiger shifter stretched a tentative paw toward the ice. He yelped as his pads came into contact with the frigid ground, then snatched the paw back and growled at me again. I lifted my hand threateningly in the air again, magic glowing around my palm, and he froze.

Stalemate.

Fuck this,
I thought as the ice on the ground rapidly melted into a puddle of water. Iannis had been training me to rely on Words to cast spells, but my Loranian repertoire was limited, and that shifter’s friends were going to be arriving soon. I could already hear them blundering through the woods, though still some way off. So instead I aimed my glowing hand at the shifter and willed him with all my might to freeze in place.

Magic shot out of my palm and blasted him straight in the chest. A blue-green glow rippled over the tiger as he froze in place, mouth still open in a soundless snarl. He stood stock-still, like a statue carved from orange, black, and white marble. If marble were fuzzy. And had really long fangs.

A ripple of fatigue washed over me, which was typical whenever I pulled magic directly from the well inside me instead of using Words. But I pushed it back, then used an illusion spell to make myself blend in with the tree. I watched the three humans charge into the clearing, weapons drawn as their eyes darted around anxiously.

“Fenris,”
I called out mentally, scenting him and Annia nearby.
“Hang back. I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Stay back unless I call for you.”

“What the fuck is going on?” the red-haired man snarled as he caught sight of the tiger shifter. “Daresh, why the hell are you just standing there?”

“Whoa,” the blond said, crouching down in front of the tiger and waving a hand in front of his face. “He’s like a statue or something.”

“By the Ur-God.” The third man, a stocky guy with long brown hair pulled back into a tail, grabbed blondie by the belt and dragged him away. “Someone’s cast a spell on him! There must be a witch in this forest.”

“It must be one of those shamans!” the redhead howled. “Daresh must’ve run across the Coazi, and now look what’s happened!”

“Are they still somewhere around here?” Blondie swiveled his head around frantically.

“I dunno, but I’m not gonna wait to find out! I
knew
this was a bad idea, having them send us out without any kind of protection against these magic-wielding savages. You guys do whatever you want, I’m getting out of here before they come back and turn us all to stone!”

Red sprinted from the clearing as though his pants had caught fire, and his companions quickly followed, not even sparing a glance at their shifter comrade. I arched an eyebrow at the tiger shifter, who was still capable of glaring daggers at me – his eyes were practically shooting flames.

“Guess your buddies aren’t real big on loyalty, are they?”

Surprise radiated from the tiger – he’d been so shocked by my spell he hadn’t realized he could still use mindspeak.
“Their loyalty is to the Resistance, not to me specifically,”
he growled.
“I don’t blame them for running from an abomination like you. What the fuck
are
you?”

I dropped from the tree, landing in a crouch about ten feet away from the tiger, and gave him a taunting smile.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“A hybrid.”
Disgust rippled through his words.
“I’ve heard rumors a shifter with mage powers existed, but I thought it was a legend.”
He didn’t sound impressed.

Ignoring him, I turned my head in the direction I’d scented Fenris and Annia from earlier.
“You guys can come out now. It’s safe.”
Sitting down, I rested my back against the tree, then drew my knees to my chest and rested my forearms across them as I waited. A few minutes later, Fenris and Annia entered the small clearing. Their eyes widened at the sight of the frozen tiger shifter.

“Is that guy still alive?” Annia asked, awe in her voice as she crouched down in front of the tiger shifter and waved her hand in front of his face, much like his companion had done to him earlier. “He looks like a taxidermist went to town on him.”

“Tell her to get her hand out of my face,”
Daresh growled.

“Or what?”
I sneered.
“You’ll bite her hand off?”

The tiger shifter said nothing, but the scorching fury burning inside him was so palpable I thought he’d set the tinder-dry forest on fire.

“Yes, he’s still alive, and really put out about the fact that you’re waving your hand in front of his face,” I told Annia. “He told me to ask you to stop.”

“Really?” Laughter tinged Annia’s voice. “That is just too weird.” Grinning, she patted the tiger on his head, then stood up and turned to face me. “How the hell did you do that to him?”

“I’ve got skills.”

“Indeed,” Fenris said dryly. “Have you used any of those skills to get information out of him, about the Resistance camp and Iannis’s whereabouts?”

“Not yet. Figured I’d wait until you guys got here first. Do you want to do the honors?”

“Certainly.” Fenris turned toward Daresh. “What business does a Resistance camp have in Coazi territory?”

“I’m not telling anything to the likes of you.”

I stood up and approached the tiger shifter, lifting my right hand in the air as I did so. Blue-green fire snapped and crackled from my palm, the flames licking at my fingers. “I’m not sure if the rumors mentioned this or not, but fire is kind of my specialty. Now that you’re not moving around anymore, there’s no reason I can’t slow-roast you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”
The tiger sounded indignant and fearful all at once.

“Wanna bet?” Reaching out, I trailed my hand above his spine, letting the flames come within a breath of his fur.

“Alright, alright!”
Panic screeched through the tiger’s mental voice.
“I’ll tell you. Just get that away from me!”

“Talk first, and I might.”
I raised my hand slightly so that I wouldn’t accidentally set him on fire, but remained close enough so that he could feel the heat of my flame.

“The Resistance has always had a camp out here,”
the tiger shifter said hurriedly.
“We negotiated with the Coazi a while back to let us hide out on their lands, as we do with a lot of the tribes across the country. They’re not allies, but because they hate mages too, they let us stay here as long as we respect the land and follow their restrictions.”

“So you’re not out here for any
specific
reason?”
I pressed as Fenris relayed the information to Annia verbally.
“Like, say, to take down an airship of mages passing through?”

“We didn’t take down the airship, but we were told to expect the delegates’ arrival.”
Daresh’s voice turned smug.
“We prepared some
very
special accommodations for them.”

Fenris growled at that, but hope filled me – Daresh had just admitted the Resistance had the delegates.
“So you’ve taken all the delegates prisoner, then?”
I demanded.

“All but the Chief Mage.”
Some of the smugness faded from Daresh’s voice.
“The idiot we planted aboard the airship killed him.”

No!
I nearly screamed aloud as shock and grief rippled through me. But then I remembered the
serapha
charms around my chest, and forced myself to remain calm. The tiger shifter might have believed he was telling the truth, but his intel was wrong – Iannis was alive. The charm didn’t lie.

“How did he die?”
I asked, pretending I didn’t know better.

“We weren’t given specifics. But trust me, if he’d been alive we would have brought him in. He was our main target.”

I gritted my teeth – the tiger shifter had confirmed our suspicions, but we were still collecting more questions than answers.

“Where is your camp?”
Fenris demanded.

The shifter hesitated, so I lowered my hand, allowing the flame to singe his orange fur.
“Oww, oww, oww! Okay! We’ve taken over an abandoned mining village at the base of the Sarania Mountain Range.”

I frowned, calling up a mental image of the map we’d studied earlier.
“That’s to the west, right?”
There were two mountain ranges flanking the plains here.

“Yeah, if you head west through the forest, you’ll come right to it.”

I lifted my head to look at Fenris and Annia. “Guess we’d better head over there, huh?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got, so yeah.” Annia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked off into the distance. “Not that we’re going to find the Chief Mage there, since this asshole insists he’s dead.” She shot the shifter a glare, who returned it in full force.

“Even if he isn’t there, the delegates are and we need to try and free them anyway,” Fenris said. “They are mages, after all, and could be useful to us.”

I groaned, not at all thrilled about the idea of working with a bunch of stuffy mages to rescue Iannis. But I couldn’t deny the extra magepower would be useful. “Alright then, let’s go.”

“Wait!”
The tiger shifter yelled.
“You’re not just going to leave me like this, are you?”

I turned back toward him and arched a brow.
“If you were in our position, what would you do?”

“I’d probably kill you,”
the tiger shifter admitted reluctantly.

“Then you should thank Magorah that we’re not you,
” I told him.

Hefting our packs higher onto our shoulders, we left the clearing and headed west, the tiger shifter cursing us all the way until we’d traveled out of mindspeak range.

“How long do you suppose it will take for the spell to wear off?” Annia asked after a while. “We’d better be gone from the camp by the time he storms in there, howling for revenge.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Perhaps we should have killed him after all. He would not show us any mercy when he recovered the use of his limbs.

“Two to three days,” Fenris said, and we both turned to him, surprised by the certainty in his voice. “That should be time enough.”

I arched a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

“Sure enough to bet our lives on it.” Fenris strode past us, taking the lead with his compass firmly in his hand. “Now let’s go and find these traitors before they kill the delegates they
do
have in their possession.”

T
hree hours later
, I stood on one of the topmost branches of a pine tree, one arm gripping the trunk as my other trained a telescope on the abandoned mining village at the base of the Sarania Mountain Range. Men were moving in between a handful of dilapidated brick buildings and sagging wooden cabins. The buildings had been painted over to approximate the dry, pale coloring of the desert landscape, making the compound difficult to spot from the sky. Many of the buildings sported boarded-up windows and missing slats in the siding. Only to be expected, considering that mining on tribal lands had been outlawed over a century ago, but I still wasn’t looking forward to spending time here.

“Can’t really see much going on from here,”
I admitted to Fenris, who was waiting on the ground with Annia.
“There are a few guys stationed at the entrance, and two on the rooftops with bows. A few guys are coming and going in the streets, but I have a feeling most everyone’s indoors.”

“Very well. Why don’t you come down then, before they spot you, so we can get on with our plan?”

I snorted.
“They’re not going to spot me.”
My perch was too far away for me to be easily spotted amongst the sea of trees, and I wasn’t sticking my head out like an idiot for anyone to take a shot at me. But I shimmied back down onto the ground anyway.

“So what’s our cover story?” Annia asked as I placed my hands on Fenris’s shoulders and muttered an illusion spell to change his features. I lightened his hair, made him taller and thinner, and got rid of his beard. It was doubtful anyone out here would know him, but I was sure the higher-ups in the Resistance would be keeping tabs on Fenris because of his unusual relationship with Iannis. No way was I taking chances.

“We’re going to tell them that we’re recent recruits, and that Rylan Baine sent us out here.” I stepped back from Fenris, then used the spell to give myself short, platinum blonde hair, yellow jaguar shifter eyes, and a shorter but curvier frame. “From what I can see, they don’t have any electrical lines set up, so they won’t be able to send telegrams. By the time they reach my cousin and ask him for confirmation, we’ll be long gone.”

“If they don’t have electrical means of communication, it’s highly likely they will have a bird shifter of some kind to relay messages,” Fenris said, looking worried.

“Yeah, but even if they do, it’ll take a while for him to deliver the message and then get an answer,” Annia said. “At least a day or two. That’s more than enough time to get the information we need.”

It took us another thirty minutes to emerge from the tree line, and as soon as we did the guards stood up straight at the sight of us. The two guys on the roof trained their bows in our direction, and I was glad that we had a shooter on our side as well. Annia might not have had the eyesight of a shifter, but she was still damn good with her crossbow.

“Stop right there!” one of the guards stationed on the ground shouted, stepping forward. He was a human, with short black hair, and like his comrades was dressed in a long-sleeved khaki shirt and pants. The only bits of color were the red band tied around his upper arm, and a medal pinned above his heart that was shaped like a drop of blood. A hand went to the hilt of his sword, testing the blade’s clearance, though he didn’t draw. “Hands in the air!”

We halted immediately, doing as he said. I wasn’t worried about the vulnerable position – my reflexes were faster, and I could slice his arm off with a chakram faster than he could draw his sword. Of course I had my magic too, but I didn’t want to give that away since I was posing as a full-blooded shifter.

Seeing that we’d obeyed without hesitation, the guard relaxed fractionally, though his fingers didn’t stray from his sword hilt. “What business do you have out here in Coazi territory?”

“We came to join the Resistance,” I called back.

The guard cocked a brow. “Did you now? All by yourselves?” He looked skeptical. “New recruits must be vouched for by current members of the Resistance, and they never come to this particular place.”

“I was given directions to this camp by my uncle, Rylan Baine,” I told him. “As you can understand, he’s a little too busy to bring us here himself.”

The two guards exchanged a look – Rylan was an officer in the Resistance, and well known. “Rylan Baine’s niece, eh? What’s your name?”

“Mika Baine,” I lied smoothly, using the name of my cousin Melantha’s daughter, who I’d rescued from the Shifter Royale just days ago. It was better to use an actual family member’s name than to make someone up – Rylan would have to ascertain Mika’s whereabouts, which would be difficult since Solantha was in an uproar, and would buy us extra time. “These here are my friends, Felix Lamos and Anaris Maren.” I gestured toward Annia and Fenris, who were standing to my right, without lowering my hands.

“Well it’s nice to see some new faces,” the other guard, a handsome blond with green eyes, spoke up for the first time. “Especially women, as not too many of those come our way.” He sent Annia a wink, and she gave him a flirtatious smile. “I’m Private Willis, and this here is Sergeant Brun.”

“Be that as it may,” Brun growled, shooting his fellow soldier a look that said he didn’t appreciate being introduced, “we can’t just take your word at face value. We’ll have to bring you three to the captain so he can decide what to do with you.”

I shrugged as well as I could with my hands in the air. “Fine by me. When do we get to meet him?”

Brun sent Willis to fetch two more soldiers, then left them to guard the entrance to the town along with the archers while he took us to the Captain. Our hands were tightly bound in front of us with thick rope, and we were herded up a wide street flanked with two-story brick-and-wood buildings, every third of which was a crumbling ruin. The better-preserved houses had been patched up by the Resistance, newer pieces of cedar wood standing out against the older siding, and bits of plaster and glue were smeared around the edges of windows that had been replaced. The windows were small and covered with a film of dust, and none of the buildings had signs out front, so there was no way of telling which, if any of them, housed the prisoners we sought.

The soldiers led us into a two-story cabin that looked like it had seen better days, the siding worn rough by sandstorms and who knew what else, and the porch railing leaning sideways. The floorboards creaked under our feet as we were led onto the porch, and we stood under an awning that looked ready to collapse on top of our heads as Brun knocked on the door.

“Captain Milios?” he called. “It’s Sergeant Brun.”

“Come in,” a deep, brusque voice answered.

Brun turned the wooden doorknob, and the door creaked loudly as he pushed it open. We followed after him into a small, rectangular room that had probably served as the house’s kitchen and living area, judging by the wood-burning stove in the left corner. The empty, rickety-looking shelves on the walls would have once housed pots and pans as well as cooking supplies.

On the opposite side of the room was a large, rough-hewn desk covered with piles of paper and a typewriter that looked like it was on its last legs. Behind the desk sat a sturdy-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and a weather-beaten face, who I could only assume was Captain Milios. His thin lips and hard, dark eyes told me he was not the cheerful sort, and I doubted he would show us any mercy if he found out who we really were.

“Sergeant.” Milios narrowed his eyes. Like his soldiers, he was dressed in khakis, but he wore three blood-drop medals on his breast as opposed to the single one Sergeant Brun displayed. His medals were also gold rather than red, which I imagined went with his higher rank. He scowled at us before returning his attention to Brun. “Who are these people?”

“They claim to be new recruits, sent by Captain Rylan Baine,” Brun explained. He jerked a thumb in my direction. “This one here says she’s his niece.”

Captain Milios’s dark gaze snapped to mine. “Name?”

“Mika Baine.”

“And the others?”

“I’m Felix –” Fenris began.

“Was I speaking to you?” the Captain snapped. He didn’t even bother to look at Fenris, his hard glare fixed on me like an arrow from a well-trained archer.

“No –,”

“Then shut up.” He arched his brows at me. “What are their names?”

Fenris’s lips pressed together so hard I thought he would swallow them, and I had to force myself not to laugh at the look of outrage burning in his eyes. He very clearly wasn’t used to being a subordinate. “Felix Lamos and Anaris Maren.”

“I’ve met Baine once,” Milios said, his tone implying that he was not one of Rylan’s fans. “He didn’t mention a niece called Mika.”

I snorted. “I bet you didn’t mention any of your relatives to him either. Or do the members of the Resistance like to sit around and talk about their families?” I knew he was bluffing, trying to jab holes into my story, and I wasn’t going to let him.

Captain Milios’s cheeks reddened. “I don’t like your tone,
shifter
. And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”

“You don’t have to take my word for it,” I said boldly. “Just ask Rylan. He’ll vouch.”

The Captain stared at us for a long moment, his dark eyes glittering. “I’ll send him a message to verify your story,” he said. “In the meantime, the three of you can do grunt work around here and earn your keep.” He turned toward Brun. “Sergeant, assign these three quarters and put them to work. I want eyes on them at all times. They are not to leave the camp under any circumstances, and they are not allowed near the prisoners.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

“Grunt work?”
Fenris seethed as we followed the sergeant outside.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had to do something as menial as grunt work!”

“Welcome to the life of an apprentice,”
I told him, and with great effort managed to keep a straight face as Brun unwittingly led us into our new lives as undercover operatives.

A
fter having
our belongings thoroughly searched, Sergeant Brun showed us to our quarters. West of the main street were two rows of houses, mostly too dilapidated for use, but ten or so that were useable had been converted into makeshift quarters. The sergeant knocked on a door, and we stood outside the false-fronted cabin for at least a minute before it was yanked open by an orange-eyed shifter. His skin was the color of heavily-creamed coffee, and his thick, dark hair and rounded nose indicated Sandian descent.

“Sergeant.” The tiger shifter saluted, and his dark brows furrowed as he took us in. “How can I help you?”

“We’ve got newcomers, and I’m assigning one of them to your barracks.” Sergeant Brun motioned Fenris forward. “Recruit, this is Private Faresh Malara. Private, this is Felix Lamos, who is here on probation. Show him around and get him settled, then bring him to the mess hall for lunch.”

“How much do you want to bet this is Daresh’s brother?
” I asked Fenris as unease shifted through my stomach.

“I would be willing to put significant coin down on that.”
Fenris didn’t look my way, but I could sense his own discomfort.
“I can only hope that he never finds his brother, at least not until we are gone.”

“Yes, sir.” Faresh saluted, then led Fenris into the house. I cursed silently as I watched them disappear, wishing that I’d slit Daresh’s throat after all. The last thing I needed was Fenris being killed in his sleep for revenge.

We’re just going to have to get out of here fast,
I told myself as we followed Sergeant Brun through the rows of houses.

He stopped at a small, single-story shack at the end of one of the rows. There was no porch or false front, and the windows were boarded up, but the siding looked okay and I didn’t see any obvious holes in the roof. I waited for the sergeant to knock on the door, but instead he opened it and walked right inside.

Annia and I exchanged a glance, then hurried inside after him. Peering into the dim interior, which was lit only by the rays of light seeping through the cracks of the boarded-up windows, I saw that it was a single-room dwelling, with two cots set up on opposite sides of the room, two chests, and two small, rough-hewn tables that held oil lamps waiting to be lit.

“Since you two are the only women here, you’re getting your own space,” the sergeant said, and he didn’t sound too happy about it. “Women are born troublemakers, especially shifter females.” He sent me a disapproving look. “I don’t care who sleeps in which bed, but I expect you to keep it clean. There are two working outhouses in the area, one behind the barrack three houses down from you, and there’s a well not too far from here where you can fetch water for sponge baths.” He pointed to a rusty bucket.

“Yes sir,” Annia and I both said. I fought against the urge to wrinkle my nose at the idea of going without a bath or shower for months on end – the sergeant would gleefully pounce on any opportunity to point out that a female like me was too pampered to be a soldier.

“You won’t be getting uniforms until the Captain can verify your story, but later on today you can stop by the supply station and pick up basic toiletries. I’ll make sure some are set aside for you.”