by Jasmine Walt
“Indeed.”
I narrowed my eyes at Iannis. “You’re not seriously agreeing with Rylan’s actions, are you?”
“No, but I also can’t fault him for trying to protect you the best way he knew how.”
I huffed. “Men. You’re all the same when it comes to women. You’d rather hide us in the closet and keep us away from the action, even if we have skills and abilities that would be useful.”
Iannis arched a brow, then looked around the cabin. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, we don’t appear to be in a closet. In fact, I believe I’m taking you straight toward ‘the action’, as you put it.”
I smirked. “You’re such a smartass.”
“Your attitude is clearly rubbing off on me.” Iannis kissed me, quick and hard. “In any case, I will do as you suggest and assign an appropriate punishment for Rylan.”
“What about Thorgana Mills?” I asked, now that we were on the subject. “She’s on her way to Dara now, isn’t she?” I had very mixed feelings on letting her out of state—she was incredibly dangerous. But the Minister had insisted on her extradition, and since she was a resident of Dara and her crimes were national rather than local, we had no choice but to relinquish her. The Minister hoped to get her to reveal additional information on the recent plot to kill and supplant him. There were probably other plots we had yet to discover, but it would not be an easy task to drag them out of her.
“She will be leaving within the next few days,” Iannis confirmed. “I don’t intend to let her set foot off Prison Isle without the most stringent security.”
“Damn right.” He’d better have a veritable army accompanying her.
“There is also the matter of dealing with Father Calmias,” Iannis said. “He is proving quite troublesome.”
“How so?” Despite his vicious, genocidal gospel, the famous preacher struck me as rather harmless, physically. He had a grandfatherly air about him, and besides, he was human. The prison guards shouldn’t be having any trouble with him.
“Though he obviously incited the humans to riot and rebel, as you witnessed yourself, we can find no proof that he has done anything more tangible to aid the Resistance. The law is unclear on whether that is enough grounds for prolonged imprisonment, once an emergency is over. Many of his supporters are demanding that he be freed.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” On my way back from Shiftertown the other day, I’d taken a ride through Maintown to see how the humans were faring. Like the other sections of Solantha, repairs were underway. But I’d seen quite a few posters plastered around town with messages like ‘FREE FATHER CALMIAS!’ and ‘FATHER CALMIAS IS INNOCENT!’.
“He’s not innocent though, and, surely, you can charge him for preaching genocide, or something like that,” I argued. There was no way a man like him should be allowed to roam free in the Federation—he never mentioned the Resistance in his sermons, only the Ur-God and His plans, but it stood to reason he must be in Thorgana’s pocket.
“Agreed,” Iannis said. “We have offered to let him go if he promised to stop encouraging his followers to engage in mass murder, but he rejected the deal without hesitation. Exile may be the only option, though that is not likely to appease his supporters.”
“Yeah, well, as far as I’m concerned, his followers should be tossed into jail or exiled right along with him,” I grumbled. Normally, I didn’t believe people should be punished just for having contrary beliefs, but I was getting pretty fed up with the pro-Resistance humans.
Noria is a pro-Resistance human, a voice in my head reminded me.
Iannis and I talked for a little bit more, but eventually he set me off his lap so he could review a stack of reports he’d brought along. Figuring I might as well be industrious myself, I pulled Spellcraft for Beginners, the primer Janta had loaned me, from my bag. I opened the book and started reading, snacking on some walnut cookies as I did so. It was an interesting text, with lots of easy yet useful spells in it, but without a safe space to practice any of them, I was soon bored. An airship wasn’t a suitable place for magical experiments.
“Where are you going?” Iannis asked as I rose from my chair and headed to the front.
“I’m going to bug the pilots to give me a lesson,” I called over my shoulder. “I plan on owning one of these myself in the near future, and I’d like to be able to fly it.”
Iannis twisted around in his chair, and I turned to look back at him, mere inches away from the double doors that separated the pilots from the main cabin. He stared at me for a long moment, as if he were considering strapping me down into my chair to prevent me from committing such a foolish action.
“Just don’t kill us,” he finally said, turning back around in his seat again. “The Minister won’t be happy if we fail to show up for the meeting.”
“Oh, I’ll get us there on time,” I said, grinning. I pulled open the doors and stepped into the pilots’ cabin, prepared to convince them to let me take over. After all, if Annia could fly one of these contraptions, then I sure as hell could learn how. And I might need to, if I was going to get her out of that Resistance camp in one piece.
10
Unlike the last time we came to Dara, we didn’t land the dirigible on the front lawn of the Capitol Dome. I wanted to, of course, but the pilots wouldn’t let me. In fact, they shooed me back to the main cabin because they didn’t want to risk me crash-landing at the airport. Disappointing, but not exactly surprising—I’d done well enough for a first lesson, but I was no pilot yet, that was for sure.
“I didn’t expect you to be up there for the entire flight,” Iannis remarked as I sat back down into my chair. “You’ll need to freshen up a bit before we get off the aircraft.”
“Huh?” I glanced down at myself, then noticed the crumbs clinging to the bodice of the satin green dress I wore. Unlike the ridiculous lacy confection I’d worn for my interview, this one was quite comfortable and easy to move in. But I couldn’t go before the Minister with crumbs on it, and I probably needed to redo my makeup too.
“Here, let me help you,” Iannis said, standing as I got up to retrieve my bag from the overhead compartment. He settled his hands on my waist to pull me forward, then gently slid one hand down my front, brushing stray crumbs away.
“Are you cleaning me up, or trying to cop a feel?” I asked, raising a brow.
“I can always do both,” Iannis murmured, dipping his head down. He kissed me lightly, then skimmed his fingertips over my cheeks. The scent of magic tickled my nostrils as tingles skipped up my face, and Iannis smiled, stepping back.
“Perfect.” He pulled a small, circular mirror from his sleeve and handed it to me. “You’re all set now.”
“Is there anything you don’t keep in that weird magical compartment of yours?” I asked, examining myself in the mirror. Iannis had used magic to freshen up my makeup, and I had to admit the effect was beautiful, and much less time-consuming. My eyeliner was bold and dramatic, my lips red and glistening, and the light dusting of blush on my cheeks gave me a healthy glow. Even my hair, pulled back from my face and artfully arranged with jeweled pins and clips, looked like I had just come from the salon.
“I believe in being prepared,” Iannis said, smiling down at me. “You look stunning, by the way.”
“Thanks to you.” Grinning, I returned to my seat, and we settled in for the landing. It didn’t take us long to disembark from the dirigible, and it was pleasant to head directly into the waiting carriage without worrying about our luggage. The steward would take it directly to our hotel.
“We’re only staying one night, right?” I asked as we drove along the paved streets, heading toward the Capitol Dome, which was on the west side of town. Beyond the curtains, the city rolled past—much less crowded at this late hour than the bustling city I remembered from my last visit, but still imposing and well lit. It was far later than one would generally expect to conduct a political meeting after traveling across the country. But as Iannis had told me more t
han once, this was an urgent mission, and holding a high office meant working long and irregular hours.
“We’ll leave the moment we are done,” Iannis assured me. “Of course, you understand that things can change, and if the Minister wants us to stay longer, we can hardly refuse.”
“Indeed.” I pressed my lips together as I thought of Zavian Graning, the Minister of the Northia Federation. Iannis and I had saved him from almost certain death the last time we were here. If not for my sleuthing skills and Iannis’s healing talents, he would be rotting in his grave. That didn’t mean I particularly liked Graning, or approved of his politics as the highest mage in the country. After all, he didn’t seem too friendly toward shifters, judging by the fact that there seemed to be none in Dara. Then again, a nice and straightforward mage would hardly have been able to climb to such a powerful position.
The Benefactor had been the master manipulator behind the plot against the Minister—I was sure of it, even though she still hadn’t admitted to the crime. Or any crime, in fact. If Cedris ar’Tarea, her would-be puppet, had managed to take power, Thorgana would have pulled his strings behind the scenes until the entire Federation came toppling down. I shuddered as I remembered just how close we had come to losing everything at the Convention. As bad as things still were, they could have turned out much, much worse.
The carriage rolled to a stop outside the Capitol Dome, and a footman opened the door for us. Iannis disembarked, then helped me down from the carriage. I managed to remember to take his hand and let him guide me instead of jumping down with my skirts flying everywhere. A damn good thing, too, because all eyes were glued on us. Given the late hour, there were a surprising number of mages about, on the steps and the grass, clustered in pairs or trios as they talked about politics, or perhaps which blend of tea their secretaries brewed for them, but whatever they discussed seemed quickly forgotten at the sight of Iannis and me.
Or maybe it was just me.
Truthfully, it was hard to tell which of us was drawing more attention, or perhaps it was the sight of us together, arm in arm, as we walked up the white marble steps to the entrance of the Dome. Unlike last time, I wasn’t disguised as a mage, and my bottle-green shifter eyes were on display for all to see. Whispers ensued as we passed, some of them uncomplimentary, others simply disbelieving. They’d heard the rumors, but they hadn’t been sure what to think of them until Iannis and I had shown up.
Now it was official. Now the whole world would know, without a doubt, that the Chief Mage of Canalo had engaged himself to a bastard hybrid shifter. And his apprentice, at that.
“Pay them no mind.” Iannis’s voice murmured in my head as he gently squeezed my forearm. “They will settle down soon enough, once they realize you are not a passing whim and that I intend to keep you by my side.”
“Of course,” I replied as we stepped over the threshold of the huge, gilded double doors. The guards bowed as we passed, and I returned their greeting with a strained smile. I didn’t doubt that Iannis would stay by my side, but it was still hard to walk by these people as they tittered behind their hands. I saw coins exchanged several times, and knew they were betting on how long Iannis would take to come to his senses and call the engagement off.
Glossy mosaic tiles patterned the floors of the entrance hall, under arching ceilings decorated with runes. The center of the large space was dominated by a fountain sculpture of the Founding Trio—Jeremidah, Faonus, and Micara. The three mages stood in a circle, back to back, and water burbled into the marble basin from their outstretched hands. If one looked into the fountain itself, they could see a mosaic pattern of the Northia Federation beneath the water. The message was clear—these three, through their power, had given life to the Federation, and were forever honored for their service.
“Good evening, Lord Iannis, Miss Baine.” Pamina, the receptionist greeted us. “Welcome back to Dara.” Her brown eyes lingered on me, bright with curiosity and maybe a little envy. As human, I imagined she would be jealous of my position, considering I was a hybrid.
“Thank you, Pamina.” Lord Iannis inclined his head. “We are here to see Minister Graning.”
“He is expecting you,” she said, and gestured to a well-dressed mage who had been hovering in the background. “This is Loris ar’Mengis, one of the Minister’s aides. He will escort you.”
The young man bowed to Iannis, somehow including me without bowing again. “If you will follow me, Chief Mage, Miss Baine.”
Iannis could have easily led the way by himself, but apparently, we were required to have an escort. The aide led us down the entrance hall, then to the right. We passed the coffee shop at the corner, where I’d spent the bulk of my time during the last Convention, eavesdropping on conversations between mages in an attempt to discover the Minister’s location. Toward the end of the hall, a set of carpeted stairs led toward the offices. I’d tried in vain to get up there the last time I was here, but it had been guarded too well. There was no way to get up there without drawing attention to myself and possibly compromising my disguise.
This time, however, I had no disguise to compromise. And since Iannis and I were escorted by the Minister’s aide, there was nothing to stop us from going up those stairs.
Just like last time, there were two guards posted at the entrance, and they bowed to us as we passed. My heels made barely a sound against the red carpet as we climbed the staircase and stepped into a smaller, but no less well-appointed lobby.
“Welcome, Lord Iannis.” Another receptionist sat behind another glossy desk. This one had pale blonde hair pulled back from her face into an elegant updo, and she wore mage robes of moss green. “And Miss Baine,” she added, her grey eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she acknowledged me. “The Minister is expecting you both.”
Ar’Mengis nodded to her and led us down a long hallway. Portraits of previous Federation politicians graced the papered walls. They looked down at me scornfully, as if to suggest I didn’t belong there. I ignored their judgmental stares and kept my head high as the aide rapped lightly on the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall.
“Come in,” a firm, commanding voice called from the other side, and the aide pushed it open.
Iannis and I were ushered into a large office decorated in red, white, and gold—the Northia Federation’s colors. It was a grand space, with a well-appointed sitting area on one side of the room, and a large desk, shelving, and chairs on the other. At the desk sat the Minister, who looked to have been in the middle of reading a report. Behind him, a trio of large glass windows provided a gorgeous view of the glittering city.
“Good evening, Minister,” Iannis said, bowing. I did the same, though I stayed silent and studied the Minister through my lowered lashes. His long, yellow hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, leaving his austere features unframed. He was dressed in red-and-gold robes that I knew would help him cut a fine figure standing. It was those robes, and his commanding presence, that made others sit up and take notice—his facial features themselves were rather ordinary, nothing in comparison to Iannis’s masculine beauty.
“Good evening, Lord Iannis, Miss Baine.” The Minister gestured to the glossy, hand-carved visitors’ chairs that perched on the red-and-gold rug in front of his desk. “Have a seat, please. There is much to discuss.”
As Iannis and I obeyed, the Minister gave me a good, long look, eyes traveling up and down my body. I tensed slightly—it wasn’t a sexual gaze, but a clinical one, as though he was measuring my worth based on his ocular examination.
“I appreciate you coming on short notice,” he told Iannis, flicking his chocolate-brown gaze away from me.
“Of course. You said the matter was urgent.”
“It is indeed.” The Minister paused, his gaze turning back to me. “I have not yet had the chance to congratulate you on your engagement, Miss Baine.”
I blinked, surprised he wasn’t launching into the mission details immediately. “Thank you, Minister.”
I lifted my chin a little. “A number of mages have already informed me of that.”
“I imagine they would have.” A faint smile crossed the Minister’s face. “I have decided not to oppose the union, because shifter-mage relations are strained right now. Coming between the two of you would only make things worse.” The Minister leaned forward now, his eyes narrowing dangerously on me. “But make no mistake, Miss Baine, if you fail to publicly conduct yourself in a manner befitting your new station, and embarrass the mage community in any way, I will have you exiled from this country.”
“Would you? I would leave with my fiancée, in that case,” Iannis said, his voice as cold as I’d ever heard it. “We came here to fight against the Resistance, not to listen to pointless threats.” His eyes bored into the Minister’s, who averted his own gaze after a moment.
I kept my back ramrod stiff in my chair, my hands splayed comfortably in my lap. I wouldn’t give the Minister the satisfaction of shouting at him, or clenching the fabric of my skirts. After all, he was just waiting for any sign that I was an uncouth shifter girl, slave to my animalistic instincts and unfit to sit at the table with the important mages.
Well, fuck him. I would show them all that I was good enough to sit at the table with the big kids, despite the fact that I was half-shifter. Hell, I would show them I was more than good enough because of my heritage as a half-shifter.
You are not merely the sum of your parts, Sunaya Baine, Resinah had said to me once. Whole, you have the potential to be stronger than both your shifter and mage ancestors.
“Are you ready to tell us why you needed our assistance?” Iannis asked. His expression was calm, but I could sense the fury thrumming under his rigid control.
“Yes, it might be best to move on,” the Minister said with a slightly nervous glance at Iannis. He initialed the report he’d been reading and tucked it away before giving us his full attention. “As you know, I have recently expended a great deal of time and effort to thoroughly purge my office of anyone untrustworthy.”
