Burned by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 1) by Jasmine Walt

Author:Jasmine Walt [Walt, Jasmine]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Blue Bolt Publishing
Published: 2015-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

When I awoke, the midday sun was streaming through my window, and hunger clawed so fiercely at my stomach that the ratty pillow beneath my head actually looked appetizing. I struggled up into a sitting position, feeling shaky, and tried to brace myself against the mattress, only to find that my hands were bound.

No, not bound. Shackled. Cold dread filled my stomach as I looked down at the runed shackles clamped around my wrists. Just when I’d finally gotten access to my magic, I’d lost it again.

Rage propelled me from my bed and across the room. I reached for the door handle, intending to break the door open, but the handle scalded me as I curled my fingers around it. I shook my burning hand and scowled at the knob, seeing the glowing blue runes I’d activated with my touch – they’d warded me in here. Locked me up like a common criminal... which in their eyes I was, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it.

“Let me out!” I pounded against the heavy wooden door, shouting until my voice was raw and my hands throbbed. Eventually my rage gave way to exhaustion, and hopeless, bitter tears began to stream down my cheeks. I collapsed back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling through a haze of defeat. I was locked in this stupid tower, and all because I’d tried to save my well-meaning but idiotic cousin from his botched rescue attempt.

Really, what had Rylan been thinking, charging in here like that? He’d done enough research to know there were wards around the palace, but clearly not enough to know how strong they were or he would have used more potent amulets. Either that, or whoever he’d bought those amulets from – probably someone on the black market – had bilked him. Either way it was sheer carelessness, and when I next saw him I was going to give him a good talking to.

Desperate for help, I mentally called for Fenris, and got no answer. I wondered if he was ignoring me, or if he was too far for me to reach by mind-message. He might have accompanied the Chief Mage on his trip, or was simply out on business of his own. Disappointment filled me, followed by a healthy dose of guilt and shame for even thinking to rely on Fenris in the first place. I’d never been so weak and helpless, not since my aunt Mafiela turned me out on the streets. Fear ballooned in my chest, forcing out all the air in my lungs and I couldn’t draw in a breath.

My mind took me back to that time when I was twelve years old and Aunt Mafiela had locked me in the closet for daring to steal food from her kitchen. She’d ‘taken me in’ shortly after my mother had died, which really meant she’d utilized me for slave labor, clothed me in her daughter Melantha’s stained and too-small castoffs, and fed me meager table scraps.

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