Betrayed by Magic: A New Adult Fantasy novel (The Baine Chronicles Book 5)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Yes, I remember.” The anger in Iannis’s eyes died away, replaced by intensity as he focused on the subject that had brought us three thousand miles away from home. “Have you discovered something useful during said purging?”

  “Indeed I have.” The Minister scowled. “I managed to identify the human staff member who administered the drug which made me so ill—according to her confession, it was put into the milk I use with my coffee. I have taken to drinking it black now. Thank the Creator that you were able to cure me. It seems the conspirators were confident that no mage would be able to do so.”

  “Healing is one of my stronger talents,” Iannis said drily. “It was not easy, even for me, especially as we caught it so late.”

  “Just so. After lengthy questioning, the staff member, who worked in the Capitol kitchens as an assistant cook, confessed that the substance she put in my milk came from a Doctor Elan Mitas. He’s a physician with a successful practice right here in Dara.” The Minister’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “For some reason, the idiot human had chosen not to flee, so it was easy enough to apprehend him.”

  “That is excellent news!” Iannis leaned forward a little, like a bloodhound that had suddenly latched onto a promising scent. “What have you learned from him?”

  “Not nearly enough.” The Minister frowned, looking quite irritated now. “He has a remarkably strong mind and is resistant to truth spells, which is likely why the Benefactor recruited him in the first place. But we had his house and practice searched, and postal receipts in his house lead us to suspect that the substance might have been forwarded from somewhere in the Northwest. We did find one smallish parcel dispatched from Wacoma. However, there is no proof, and it might have contained something else entirely. Dr. Mitas refuses to say.”

  Iannis looked grave. “That is not much to go on, but better than nothing. You want us to follow up on the origins of this deadly substance?”

  “Of course.” The Minister’s face tightened. “We must assume that this substance was not produced for single use only. Thorgana and her henchmen may be manufacturing more of these lethal diseases to target specific people or races. Perhaps even on a large scale. I would not have thought mere humans capable of such feats, without magic and with those short lives of theirs, but clearly we have been underestimating their cunning.”

  By Magorah. Icy horror spread through my chest. Those must be the secret weapons the humans had been whispering about. Some powder or liquid dropped in a jug of milk, or perhaps mixed into a city’s water supply by the human maintenance crew, could not easily be defended against. I already knew the humans pulling the strings behind the Resistance were planning to kill off entire populations, but I thought that was just talk. Would they actually succeed?

  “I need you to locate this manufacturing lab or plant and destroy it before the Resistance can deploy their newfangled weapons,” the Minister commanded. “It would be a disaster, should they actually use them to massacre unsuspecting citizens. Not to mention embarrassing, since we’ve assured the country they are safe, now that we’ve caught the mastermind of this evil plot.”

  “Agreed,” Iannis said, his eyes narrowed. “It is a pity Thorgana is not here yet, as I imagine she would know the exact location.”

  “That’s true, but we can still question the doctor, right?” I asked. The men turned to look at me, the Minister blinking, as though surprised to hear me speak up. “Shifters are very good at telling truth from lies, and as an enforcer, I’m an experienced interrogator. You should let me question the doctor.”

  “That was my plan, actually,” the Minister said wryly. “But thank you for volunteering.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. So, apparently, the Minister considered me a useful tool, and not just a liability. At least that was something.

  “Is there anyone else we can interrogate?” I asked. “What about Lord Cedris, or his Legal Secretary, Coman ar’Daghir?”

  “They have already been questioned thoroughly. It was found they had no direct knowledge of Thorgana or their operations,” the Minister said firmly. “Both have been released, upon condition that Cedris resign from public office, which he has done. He is spending more time with his family these days, and I hear he’s thinking of writing a memoir.”

  “I see,” I murmured, burying my disgust and incredulity. I would have thought the Minister would punish Cedris harshly for his not inconsiderable role in the plot to kill him and take his position. Why was he being so lenient? Did Cedris have some sort of hold over him, just as Thorgana had been blackmailing Cedris and a number of other mages in order to control them?

  Fucking politics, I thought. I hated all the layers involved, and wished I didn’t have to have anything to do with it. But that was impossible if I was going to be married to Iannis, and if I wanted to effect change within our unfair system.

  “Well, I see no need to waste time.” The Minister clapped his hands together, then rose from his seat. “Mr. ar’Mengis will take you to the doctor now, and Miss Baine can prove her worth by getting some answers out of him.”

  Great. No pressure.

  11

  The Minister’s taciturn aide escorted us to the prison via carriage. Even though it was well after midnight, I wasn’t at all tired—I was eager to get on with the job and find out everything we could. It took about half an hour before we drew up in front of Dara’s main prison facility, a large, ugly building that rested right at the fork of the Motoac River. The reinforced windows and the runes set into the walls and gates suggested that it was secure, protected both magically and physically. It must be incredibly difficult to escape from there, a thought that comforted me since I knew Thorgana would be kept in this very facility once she arrived in the capital.

  The aide didn’t actually go with us to the prisoners’ cells, but was very helpful to get us through several levels of guards without hassle. The Minister’s office had clearly phoned ahead, asking for every assistance to be rendered. We were led to a soundproofed chamber the prison officials called a ‘special interview room’. Iannis and I made ourselves as comfortable as we could in the cold, dimly lit stone chamber, sitting at a bare metal table on bolted-down metal chairs as we waited for Doctor Mitas to be brought in.

  “So how are we doing this?” I asked quietly. “Are you asking all the questions, or are we taking turns?”

  “I would prefer to take the lead,” Iannis said, “but as your nose can determine whether or not he speaks truth or falsehood, you can intervene when you sense a weakness. As a human, he won’t be able to tell if we are truthful, and he will already be predisposed to expect the very worst of mages or shifters. That may help us intimidate him.”

  The door opened, and two guards led the prisoner in. Doctor Mitas was a middle-aged, lean man with dark brown hair, round, wire-rimmed spectacles, and a handlebar mustache that gave him a respectable air, at odds with the black-and-white striped prisoner uniform he wore. His thin wrists were weighed down by heavy manacles. Nevertheless, he kept his shoulders straight and his chin high, and regarded us with a haughty look as he was guided none too gently into the chair across from us. The guards left us alone, but said they would be right outside, within calling distance.

  “Good evening, Doctor Mitas,” Iannis said pleasantly, once the door had shut behind them. “I am Chief Mage Iannis ar’Sannin, and this is my apprentice, Sunaya Baine.”

  “I know who you are,” Doctor Mitas said in a cultured, snooty voice. His bird-like nose twitched as he regarded me, and his lip curled. “A Chief Mage and a hybrid, set to be wed. What a strange world we live in, don’t you think?”

  “Some might consider such a match to be progress,” Iannis pointed out. “The union of a shifter and a mage is a step in the direction of equality amongst the races.”

  “Pah!” The doctor’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. “Perhaps, if one agreed that equality between the races was possible. But I do not. The ille
gitimate mage regime must be overthrown if humans are to regain their rightful position in this world.”

  “How about shifters?” I asked, curious to know if he ascribed to Father Calmias and Thorgana’s genocidal views. “Are they to be eradicated as well? Or do you believe that they have an equal place in society?”

  Doctor Mitas’s sniffed. “I don’t believe you dragged me from my cell to discuss my views on shifters.”

  “Indeed we did not,” Iannis said, his voice growing stern. “We came to ask you about disease-spreading substances the Resistance is manufacturing.”

  The doctor’s stare did not waver. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Lie,” I mentally told Iannis, though it was obvious anyway.

  Iannis said nothing for a long moment, while the doctor’s gaze slid away and fixed on a dent in the metal table.

  “This is a waste of time,” I said in a bored voice. “This guy looks like a minion, the kind nobody would trust with confidential details. He probably knows nothing useful about the origin of the sickness.”

  A tiny smirk lifted the corners of the prisoner’s mouth.

  “Is that so?” Iannis said sternly.

  “As I said, I don’t know anything.” The doctor sounded downright smug now. Iannis and I exchanged a glance.

  “For all we know, what he used was nothing special, just a garden-variety poison,” I declared, hoping the doctor would not know Iannis himself had healed the Minister. “Does this guy look intelligent enough to even know what he was doing? Curing shingles or ear infections is probably more his speed.”

  Dr. Mitas shifted in his chair, and I held back a grin as my nose detected a strong sense of indignation from him. “I object to being insulted by a shifter!” he insisted, his eyes blazing at me. “One who hasn’t the remotest idea what she’s talking about.”

  “Then prove her wrong,” Iannis said pointedly. “Tell us where you got the substance used to make the Minister sick.”

  “Did the substance arrive via mail?” I asked while he was still off-balance.

  “No!” I could smell the lie. “That is, I have nothing to say on the subject.” He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

  I smirked, getting in his face by leaning forward and invading his personal space. My sensitive nose picked up the cold sweat erupting on his neck. “I suspect it came from the Northwest.”

  Panic flashed in his eyes, confirmation enough for the moment.

  “Perhaps from the town of Wacoma?” Iannis asked softly.

  Dr. Mitas jerked. “Why are you asking me, if you already know?”

  “Have you ever been there personally?” I followed up.

  “No.” He sullenly glared at me.

  “Truth,” I told Iannis. Aloud, I said, “But you know what is being produced there, and for what purpose?”

  Though he did not reply out loud, it was easy for me to read him. “He knows,” I told Iannis, out loud. “Does it not trouble your conscience as a medical man, Dr. Mitas, to be involved in wholesale killing? I would not want to be one of your patients, if you are so careless of human life.”

  He bridled at the accusation. “My patients are human. I do not consider mages or shifters to fall under my medical oath. My loyalty is to humanity, and I’m proud of my allegiance to the Resistance.”

  Ha! It looked like the dam was finally breaking.

  “The Resistance?” I jeered, curling my lip at him. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve chosen the losing side, buddy. Now that the Benefactor is in our custody, your cause is doomed. I’m sure she would have no qualms about selling out her comrades in order to lessen her sentence.”

  “Pah!” The doctor looked down his nose at me, which was an impressive feat considering he was an inch shorter. “The Benefactor is far more clever than either of you could hope to be. Our cause will triumph with or without her.” The firm conviction in his tone sent a shiver down my spine, but I kept my posture relaxed, determined not to let him see the effect his dire prediction had on me.

  “And without you as well, it looks like,” I said, arching my eyebrows. His shoulders slumped slightly at the reminder. I was pretty sure he would receive the death penalty for his role in nearly assassinating the highest official of the mage government.

  “Yes, it is too bad I probably won’t see it,” the doctor admitted. “But I am not the only specialist working for the human race.” He bared his teeth in a savage smile. “I was looking forward to the pleasure of administering diseases to all the mages in Dara.”

  “All of them?” I asked, hiding my horror. “You mean at once?”

  The doctor laughed. “No, it will happen inconspicuously, and will look as though the mages are dying of natural causes. I don’t mind telling you, as you won’t be able to stop it.” That expectation seemed to afford him great satisfaction. “Whatever happens to me, I shall soon be avenged.”

  Iannis regarded him with disgust. “What’s to stop the Federation from bringing healers in, to cure the mages you and your confederates infect?”

  Doctor Mitas scoffed. “I believe you noticed it was extraordinarily difficult for you to cure the Minister of his illness, wasn’t it?”

  So he was aware of that, after all. When Iannis said nothing, the doctor smiled coldly. “We are focusing on diseases that are resistant to magical healing. There are simply not enough first-rate healers to deal with an epidemic, and, with any luck, those will be the first to die.” He smirked openly now.

  “This is crazy!” I snapped, unable to hold my tongue any longer. “If these diseases can’t be cured by magic, then what are you going to do when they spread to the human population as well? Or are you so keen to kill off your own kind?”

  The doctor gave me a patronizing smile. “The humans will be quite safe. Shifters, of course, are another story.”

  My muscles coiled, and Iannis put his hand on my leg to keep me from lunging across the table and grabbing the smug bastard by the throat. “Doctor Mitas,” he said in a cold, commanding voice, “You will tell us exactly where those diseases are being manufactured, right now.”

  I had never seen such a stern, compelling expression on his face. The doctor was staring into his eyes as though mesmerized. Iannis must be using persuasion, despite the Minister’s assurance that the prisoner was resistant. Yet, what mere human would be strong enough to stand against Iannis’s power, when he had Tua blood flowing through his veins? Iannis’s hand on my leg was tense now, so it could not be an easy spell to maintain, whatever it was.

  The staring duel lasted for over thirty seconds before the doctor’s eyes fell. “I have not been there myself,” he said in a strange, faraway voice. “But I am nearly certain the place is in Nika, a small town in Osero.”

  “Nika? That is fairly close to Parabas, isn’t it?” Iannis asked, referring to Osero’s state capital.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well.” Iannis released whatever spell he had employed to force the doctor to confess. The prisoner’s lips thinned as he sat back in his chair.

  “You may have tricked me with your thrice-damned mage power,” he spat, bitter resentment burning in his gaze, “but the information will not do you any good. No mage can breach the facility’s walls.”

  “Why is that?” Iannis demanded.

  The doctor shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have it on good authority that even if your kind discovered the place, you would never be able to get into the labs.” He bared his teeth at us. “So go to Osero, if you must. You won’t get in, and if the Ur-God is just, you might very well end up being our first victims.”

  We briefed the Minister in the comfort of his home, before retiring to our rooms at the Crystal Hotel for a much needed late-night dinner. We would leave for Parabas just before noon, after grabbing a few hours of sleep. The Minister would contact the Chief Mage of Osero and ensure his full cooperation with our mission. The Capitol library would provide us a map of Nika and its environs b
efore we left, so that we could be prepared for what lay ahead.

  “It is quite possible that we may not be able to get into the lab, as the doctor suggests,” Iannis said, his arm curled around me as we lay in bed, showered and fed now. He’d booked two adjoining rooms, my luggage was in the second one, but I had no intention of sleeping in a separate bed. “Certain wards are impossible to break, even for me. In that case, we may have to destroy the entire building from outside.”

  “And kill all the people in it?” I frowned. “What if they have innocents in there? They may use test subjects they’re experimenting on, perhaps even mages, if they are trying to create a formula to target them specifically.”

  “It would be regrettable, but I don’t see that we have a choice,” Iannis said. “We cannot risk the lives of the entire Federation for the sake of a few.”

  I sighed. I hated that sort of thing—sacrificing one to save the lives of many—but I couldn’t argue against the logic in this scenario. If the Resistance was using innocent test subjects, they were probably going to die anyway, so blowing up the building would only accelerate their tragic fate. “Still, if there is any way to stop this madness without resorting to mass killings, we should try to find it.”

  “Of course.”

  I slept uneasily that night, despite being cradled in Iannis’s warm, comforting embrace. My thoughts were too tangled up in my worries for me to settle down. How were Annia and Elnos faring? What was Noria up to? Had Comenius received any word from them? I wished I could rush to their side now, but I had to admit the news about the Osero lab was extremely troubling. If I was being fair and logical, shutting it down was more urgent than rescuing my friends.

  But I wasn’t an automaton. Just because I knew in my head that going to Parabas first was the right thing to do, didn’t mean I felt as certain about that in my heart. I was conflicted, torn between the desire to do two things that were, in their own ways, equally important to me.