Tested by Magic Read online

  Tested by Magic

  A Baine Chronicles Novella

  Jasmine Walt

  Dynamo Press

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Burned by Magic

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Also by Jasmine Walt

  Copyright © 2016, Jasmine Walt. All rights reserved. Published by Blue Bolt Publishing.

  This novella is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected]

  Cover illustration by Judah Dobin

  Cover typography by Rebecca Frank

  Edited by Mary Burnett

  Electronic edition, 2017. If you want to be notified when Jasmine’s next novel is released and get access to exclusive contests, giveaways, and freebies, sign up for her mailing list here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  Created with Vellum

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  Tested by Magic is a companion novella to the Baine Chronicles, my New York Times bestselling urban fantasy series. You do not need to read the Baine Chronicles to enjoy this book—however, I thought it might help readers who are new to my work to have a glossary of terms. To that end, I’ve included a spoiler-free one in the back that you can refer to as you read, or read ahead of time if you’d like.

  If you’ve already read the Baine Chronicles series, these terms will be familiar to you, but you may want to refresh yourself anyway just in case. ;)

  To the new reader, welcome to this fantastic world of mages, shifters, steambikes, crazy adventures, and just enough romance to keep you wanting more! And to those of you who have read the previous books, welcome back and thank you! Your support allows me to continue doing what I love most—writing.

  Best, Jasmine

  1

  The crack of wood against wood broke the stillness of the cold winter morning. Grunting, I gripped my staff harder and tried to push Roanas back. My arms trembled from the effort, and my mentor grinned at me, his fangs stark white against his black skin. Those tawny lion-shifter eyes glowed with an unholy glee right before he twisted with lightning speed, trying to get past my guard so he could knock me off my feet with a sweep to my calves.

  “Like hell I’m going to fall for that again!” I jumped up, out of the way, then brought my staff swinging down with me. But Roanas had already moved, and I had to pivot and bring my staff up again to keep him from braining me from behind. The birds watching from their perch on the backyard fence squawked in irritation as our staffs clashed again, and several of them took flight as my mentor and I exchanged a flurry of blows, pushing each other back and forth across the yard. I had no idea why the birds insisted on hanging out here if they disliked the noise so much. We did this every morning, after all.

  “Sweating already?” Roanas commented as he parried yet another one of my blows. “It’s far too cold for that, Sunaya.”

  “We’ve been at this for an hour,” I growled, resisting the temptation to swipe at a bead of sweat stinging my eye. As usual, Roanas was barely winded, and the loose Garaian-style shirt and pants he always wore during training were as dry as they had been when we’d started. In contrast, my tank top clung to my sweaty back and ribs, my cheeks were flushed, and my curls were sticking to my temples. “It’s not my fault you’re a freak of nature.”

  Roanas laughed, then sidestepped my next blow and went for my ribs. I parried, twisting to meet him, but my foot slipped on a wet patch of grass and I went crashing to the hard-packed ground. My heart leapt into my throat as Roanas’s staff came swinging down, but I rolled out of the way just before it struck me, then swept my own staff straight beneath his knees.

  “Oof!” Roanas cried as he landed hard on his ass. Grinning, I knocked the staff out of his hands, then pressed the butt of my own weapon against his throat. The two of us froze—Roanas lying in the grass, and me on my knees above him, staff gripped tightly.

  “Very good,” he said, curling his fingers around my weapon. “Now why don’t you help an old man up so we can have some breakfast?”

  I snorted at that, but did as he asked. “Old man, my ass,” I said as I followed him inside the house. “You’re not even a hundred years old yet.”

  Roanas eyed me over his shoulder, a droll expression in his eyes. “Perhaps, but you’re barely eighteen, child. Compared to you, I’m ancient.”

  I laughed, then went into the kitchen to whip up pancake batter while Roanas used the shower first. This was our morning ritual—we trained in the backyard for an hour, I got breakfast started while he showered, then he finished off the cooking while I got cleaned up and ready for school.

  Except today, I wouldn’t be going to school. I would be going to work. And I could hardly wait.

  As soon as Roanas came into the kitchen, freshly washed and clothed, I bounded up the stairs and into the shower. I was usually in and out fast, but, for once, I took my time washing and dressing, because this was a special day.

  I grinned like a loon as I fastened my brand-new enforcer bracelet on my wrist. I’d worn it day and night ever since the day I’d passed the tests last week, taking it off only for my training sessions with Roanas. Today was the day I’d finally get to activate it, to join the ranks of the bounty hunters who chased down criminals and kept the fair city of Solantha safe. I’d show them all what I was capable of—that an outcast from the panther-shifter clan could make something of herself. I’d wow them with my strength and skill and dedication, and Captain Galling would be so impressed he’d have no choice but to give me a crew of my own.

  “Sunaya!” Roanas called. “Are you going to daydream up there forever, or are you going to come down and eat?”

  “Coming!” I replied, my cheeks coloring a little. Roanas knew me too well. But before I hurried down the stairs, I took one last glance in the mirror. My thick black hair gleamed in the morning light, not a curl out of place, and I’d gone an extra step by putting on eyeliner that made my bottle-green eyes pop. The leather pants and jacket I’d picked up at a thrift shop made me look like a badass, and the crescent knives and chakrams strapped to my body would leave no doubt in anyone’s mind as to my profession. The utility belt cinched around my waist was stuffed with protection charms, a set of handcuffs, and some beef jerky for the road.

  Hell yeah. I was so ready for this.

  “Well, don’t you look like a hotshot?” Roanas said as I swaggered into the kitchen. Platters of eggs, bacon, and pancakes sat on the stove, and Roanas was already sitting at the table, his plate nearly cleaned. He eyed one of the charms swinging from my utility belt and frowned. “When was the last time you had that checked? You might need to replenish it.”

  “I’ll visit Witches’ End soon,” I promised as I brought my plate of food to the table. I sat down, then hesitated, my fingers drifting to the circular stone amulet in question. “Do you think anyone will question this?”

  Roanas shook his head. “Enforcers wear protective amulets and charms all the time. You don’t need to tell them the true purpose for that one.”

  I nodded, then dug into my food with a little less gusto than I normally would have. As far as everyone knew, I was just a jaguar shifter, tossed out of the Baine Clan because my aunt, the
Chieftain, hadn’t been able to stand the sight of me after my mother died. No one aside from Roanas and a select few members of the Baine Clan knew the truth—that I was actually half-mage.

  And if anyone found out, I was dead. Only full-blooded mages, born into a mage family, were allowed to have magic. They, and the foreign magic users who lived in Witches’ End—immigrants who paid a hefty fee for the privilege to live in the Northia Federation and keep their powers.

  The reasoning, of course, was that these immigrants were already fully trained in their magic, and could keep a handle on it without losing control. But those of us who were born with magic into a non-mage family could not be trained, as there were no mages who would take responsibility for us. And the Canalo government certainly didn’t want to trouble themselves over our welfare any more than they had to. Their solution was to send mages into the public schools to test all the children for magic. Those who tested positive were given two choices—have their magic stripped or lose their lives.

  I had no idea what would have happened if the mages had found out about me. All shifters had a little bit of magic in us—it was what allowed us to change forms. If I had tested positive as a magic user, and underwent the magic wipe, I might not have been able to survive it. Or worse, I might have been turned into a human. A shudder wracked me at the thought. Either one would have been a horrible fate.

  Thankfully, I’d never had to find out, because I’d passed the tests with flying colors. I shouldn’t have been able to do so—I had magical power in spades, if the few outbursts I’d experienced were anything to judge by. Most of the time, though, I couldn’t access my magic at all. It only seemed to come out when I lost my temper, or when I thought I was going to die.

  Which, unfortunately, happened far more often than I’d like.

  Worried now, I rubbed my fingers against the amulet, which Roanas had purchased for me from a charm shop in Witches’ End. This amulet was meant to contain magic, so that when I got riled up, it wouldn’t come spilling out. Roanas had gotten it for me when I was thirteen because I had nearly killed another shifter teen with an accidental outburst of my magic during a brawl. He’d used his influence as the Shiftertown Inspector to sweep that incident under the rug. Since then, he had enforced a rigorous training regimen on me. Kan-Zao, the ancient martial art he’d learned during his travels in Garai, was largely about mental and physical control. The lessons had gone a long way in helping me get a handle on my emotions.

  Unfortunately, there was only so much training could do. Shifters were passionate by nature, and when we were threatened, it was hard to control our instincts.

  A knock pulled me from my thoughts, and I jerked my head toward the door, nostrils flaring. A human, I thought, catching the scent. Male, musk, and leather with the faintest trace of stale blood. My pulse sped up a little—it was an enforcer. It had to be. They were the only humans who came calling to this house.

  “I’ll get it,” Roanas said, his chair scraping back. “You finish eating.” He patted me on the shoulder as he moved past me, out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  I did as I was told, reaching for another piece of bacon. After all, I could hear the conversation just fine from here—there was no need to go to the front door.

  “Good morning, Inspector Tillmore,” a gruff voice said. “I’m Enforcer Elin Blackhorn.”

  “I know who you are,” Roanas said mildly. “What can I do for you at this early hour?”

  “Do you know of any suspicious out-of-towners who may have taken up residence in Shiftertown recently?” the enforcer asked. “Anyone who’s been flashing money around more freely than usual, for example?”

  “Not that I know of.” I could hear the frown in Roanas’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just keep your ears open,” the enforcer advised. “Two banks and a large jeweler have been hit recently. We have reason to believe they’re all being done by the same gang.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  The enforcer hesitated a moment, as if reluctant to share the information. But Roanas worked with the Guild on a regular basis, and it would be unreasonable for the enforcer to expect Roanas to cooperate without divulging something. “In each case, the robbers dug beneath the buildings and directly into the vaults to steal gold and valuables. After the first two hits, other establishments around town started hiring extra security, but the guards at the jewelry shop were knocked out by some kind of sleeping spell. Probably an illegal charm. The Canalo Bankers’ Association has set a record-breaking bounty for anyone who catches the gang.”

  I sat up straight at that, my bacon forgotten. Record-breaking bounty? I listened harder, eager to catch any other details I could. What if I could somehow cash in on this? I bet I’d be the first rookie to take down a case that big. I’d set a record of my own!

  “Why do you think the robbers are strangers?” Roanas asked.

  “There was a similar rash of break-ins in Baro,” the enforcer said.

  I frowned. Baro was the capital of Inara, one of the Federation’s Midwestern states. Canalo was on the West Coast—nearly a thousand miles away.

  “Only two months ago, by my records. We’re contacting Enforcers’ Guilds in other states to see if any other towns have been hit by the same gang. I have a hunch that they might have done a few other break-ins on their way to Solantha. Several crews are on this case, so it’s a race to see which one of us catches the bastards first. Any tips would be much appreciated,” the enforcer added, a note of urgency in his voice.

  I didn’t wait to hear any more. Leaving the rest of my breakfast on the table, I bounded out the back door to grab my bicycle. If several crews were on the case, I had a chance to get in on this. And I damn well wasn’t going to waste it.

  2

  I whizzed through the city on my rickety bicycle, shooting past the border of Shiftertown into Rowanville. Rowanville was the only place in Solantha where shifters, mages, and humans lived together—mages usually lived in the Mages Quarter, humans lived in Maintown, and shifters lived in Shiftertown. Apart from Solantha Palace in the Mages Quarter, the few government buildings in our town were all located in Rowanville, the Enforcer’s Guild included.

  As I approached the tall, dingy grey building that served as Solantha’s bastion against crime, a steambike whizzed past me, nearly knocking me off my own vehicle. I choked on the cloud of hot steam, then glared at the shiny machine as it sped past me and into the Guild’s parking lot. Dammit! Even my strong shifter legs couldn’t pump hard enough to keep up with steampower. I’d coveted a steambike since I was barely a teenager, but they were expensive as hell. Many of the enforcers had them, and I tried not to glance at the row of shiny bikes parked outside the Guild as I tucked my rickety little bike into the corner.

  You’ll get one of your own soon enough, I told myself as I squared my shoulders. You just need to catch some fat bounties first. In a city with half a million people, where crime was alive and well, how hard could that be?

  Putting my visions of grandeur aside for the moment, I pushed open the door, then swaggered inside as if I owned the place. I’d been in here plenty of times during the past few weeks as a trainee, but I still got a little jolt of excitement as my boots clopped against the scuffed cream tiles. The lobby was buzzing with activity—enforcers coming and going via the bank of elevators along the back wall, and trainees upfront dealing with the rows of people who’d come here to report a crime or check in on a case. I’d been one of those trainees barely a week ago, and I gave them a little salute as I sauntered past. They watched me with a combination of hope and envy, and I knew they were counting down the days until they could get out from under the thumb of the tyrannical desk sergeant and join the ranks upstairs.

  Trying not to look too eager, I hurried into an elevator with a few other enforcers. They eyed me with looks ranging from curiosity to resentment, and I stared resolutely at the steel door, ignoring them. I knew that the older enforce
rs didn’t always like new blood—after all, enforcers made their living off bounties, and the more enforcers around, the more competition we’d have to contend with. Hopefully, the most successful crews would feel differently, since they were already at the top of the pole. From what I’d observed, there weren’t that many shifters in the Main Crew, so maybe I could convince them that I’d be an asset.

  The enforcer at my left elbow raised an eyebrow as I stepped off at the third floor, which belonged to the Main Crew. I tossed my curly hair over my left shoulder and marched through the rows of desks, ignoring the way the enforcers sitting at them eyed me with barely concealed disdain. I wasn’t going to let these guys intimidate me, not if I wanted to be one of them. Most enforcers were assigned to a crew, and the Main Crew tended to get the most lucrative dockets. Since Captain Galling hadn’t assigned me yet, I planned to get the Main Crew to take me in before he stuck me with a lesser one. I’d already thought out my speech to the crew foreman—I wouldn’t beg, but I’d propose a probationary period, where they’d give me a month to prove my worth. I’d heard they were two enforcers short after a recent accident, so I should have a chance.

  But before I could reach the office of the crew foreman, located toward the back, a huge male stepped in front of me. He was six foot three and around two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, with a thin layer of orange fuzz covering his blocky head, beady blue eyes, and knives strapped all over his body.

  “Hey.” He jerked his square chin at me. “What’s a rookie like you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see Foreman Crowley.” I met his scathing stare with one of my own, refusing to back down. I’d be out of here in an instant if I showed even an inkling of weakness. “What’s it to ya?”