by Jasmine Walt
“Your hands,” the Chief Mage repeated, his voice tinged with impatience.
I placed my hands in his reluctantly, watching as his long fingers curled around them. He turned my hands over until my palms rested face up, then stroked my wrists with his thumbs. Another shiver rippled through me, but this one was warm and tingly, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His scent filled my nose, and my cheeks heated as I became incredibly aware of how close we stood together.
If Iannis noticed my sudden discomfort, he said nothing, simply continued to stroke his thumbs across my wrists in small circles. The warm tingles gradually grew stronger as they ran up and down my arms, like an electric current looping between us, and as the scent of burnt sugar thickened around us I realized that current was actually magic.
His eyes opened, and a pang of disappointment went through me as he dropped my hands. “Not a single spark,” he murmured, eyeing me curiously.
“What does that mean?” Fenris, who’d been standing nearby, asked. His brow was furrowed as he studied me.
“It means that someone has put a block on her magic, likely her father.”
“My father?” I echoed. Anger bubbled up in my stomach at the implications. “Why would he do that? So I’d be helpless to defend myself?”
“On the contrary,” the Chief Mage corrected me. “He would have done this to keep you hidden, so you would pass the tests without arousing suspicion.” He sounded intrigued. “Whoever your father is, he must have been a high-level mage to have accomplished such a sophisticated spell.”
“Gee, I’m so proud,” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest.
Annoyance flickered in the Chief Mage’s eyes again, but he ignored my sarcasm as he walked around his desk. I watched, curiously, as he opened a drawer and pulled out a fountain pen. “Hold out your hand.”
Bewildered, I did so, and he placed the pen in the center of my palm. I inspected it to try and see if there was anything special about it, but there were no runes or strange markings of any kind on the surface. “What am I supposed to do with this thing?”
“Make it levitate.”
I scowled at him. “Exactly how am I supposed to do that?”
The Chief Mage shrugged. “The same way you do it every time. Reach for your magic, and direct it.”
Sighing, I closed my eyes and did as he asked, searching for that glowing light in the center of my being that appeared whenever I had a magical outburst. But as usual, there was nothing but a void, and when I opened my eyes the pen was still in my hand.
“It didn’t work.”
The Chief Mage only arched a brow, and reached for my hand as if to take the pen. But instead, he wrapped his fingers around my hand. Instantly, ice crackled up my forearm, spreading rapidly to my shoulder with no signs of stopping. Panic burst in my chest as a deep, painful cold engulfed my arm. I knew that if it reached my heart I would die.
As soon as I had that thought, the magic inside me flared to life. Heat flooded my body, and blue-green flames raced up my arms. The ice melted instantly, water sluicing down to the floor to be absorbed by the expensive carpeting.
“As I suspected.” The Chief Mage dropped my arm, a satisfied look on his face. “Your magic only works when you believe your life to be in danger.”
“I could have told you that!” I balled my hands at my sides, my heart pumping furiously. “You didn’t need to almost kill me!”
The Chief Mage’s lips thinned. “Don’t be silly, Miss Baine. I would have stopped the ice before it reached your heart. It does me no good if you die before I complete my investigation.”
“Not. Re. Assured.”
As I half-expected, the Chief Mage ignored that too, instead leaning forward to peer into my eyes. “Fenris,” he murmured, “Jaguar shifters, they typically have yellow eyes, do they not?”
“They range in color, actually, but a golden color is the norm.” Fenris shrugged. “They’re also one of the few big cat feline species that have melanin coats as well as lighter coloring, explaining why Sunaya’s coat is black when so many of the Baine jaguars are not.”
“I personally prefer the term panther,” I said coolly. It was a misnomer, but it was simpler than identifying myself as a ‘black jaguar’.
“Hmm.” The Chief Mage glanced back at me. “Your father may very well share your eye coloring, then.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you seriously going to try and identify my father, a mage who can change his appearance, by his eye coloring?”
“Of course not,” the Chief Mage said mildly. “But it’s something we should consider, nevertheless.”
“You know,” Fenris said, “if her father had claimed her at birth, which would have been the honorable thing to do, Sunaya would be a mage in good standing by now.”
Huh. That was interesting. In theory Fenris was correct – the issue of being born illegally with magic mainly applied to humans, which made sense as all mage families originally descended from normal humans. Full-blooded shifters, on the other hand, were never born with magic other than their innate ability to shift, making me an extremely rare case. I gritted my teeth as the realization swept over me that my father could have claimed me as his daughter and I would have been allowed to train as a mage, sparing me years of heartache and difficulty.
The Chief Mage arched a brow in Fenris’s direction. “Your point?”
“My point is, I don’t think it’s just to punish Sunaya for her father’s neglect, which is the only reason she can’t control her magic properly. In my opinion, he is more deserving of punishment than she is. He knew the consequences of leaving her to fend for herself, and yet did nothing aside from putting a spell on her to seal her magic away. A spell that, in the end, did not save her.”
I expected the Chief Mage to scoff at this, but he said nothing for a long moment, simply staring at me. I forced myself not to fidget, wondering what was going on behind those strange violet eyes. Was he actually considering letting me off the hook in favor of pinning responsibility on my father? If that was the case, I would have to give Fenris a good, long smooch for his suggestion.
And maybe I had enough gratitude in my heart to give the Chief Mage a pat on the head, too.
“Your father will not escape justice,” he said finally, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Unfortunately our time is up for now, as I have other obligations to meet. Return here at the same time tomorrow, and we will resume our study.”
“Yessir.” I sketched a mocking bow and carted myself back to my room, wondering if the Chief Mage really was going to find my father, and if he did, whether or not I would finally get to meet the bastard face to face.
8
I spent most of the afternoon training, burning off my frustration as best I could with the forms and exercise routines my mentor had taught me. Practice reminded me that I was still missing my crescent knives and chakrams, and I wondered where they had gone off to. I really hoped Brin and Nila hadn’t decided to keep them for themselves, or sold them off to other Enforcers. They were valuable weapons, both gifts from Roanas. The chakrams were especially valuable, because they were spelled to return to my pouch after they’d been thrown.
Perhaps I can ask Fenris to try and get my weapons back for me.
Huh. That might actually be a good idea. Even if he held on to them for me, that was better than leaving them to the Enforcer’s Guild. Heck, I might even be able to get him to convince the Chief Mage to let me wear them – the guards would think twice about messing with me then.
With that thought in mind, I left my makeshift training area and went to find Fenris. A human servant told me he was in the West Wing, so I headed in that direction, passing through the balcony that overlooked the foyer as I did so.
“What do you mean, we can’t see her!”
I froze at the sound of Noria’s strident tones, and looked over the railing to see her standing below, arguing with the mage who served as the receptionist for the palace. Her cloud of
red curls bounced around her face in time to her wild gesticulations. Next to her stood Comenius, who looked slightly uncomfortable about her outburst. Both were dressed in white from head to foot – mourning colors – and my heart sank into my toes as I realized what that meant.
Roanas’s funeral.
Rage began to build inside me. Why had nobody told me he was being buried today? Even if I couldn’t have attended the funeral myself, I would have liked to pray for him, perhaps even hold a rite on my own.
“I’m sorry, but Sunaya Baine is a prisoner,” the mage sniffed haughtily. Ire bubbled up inside me as he wrinkled his long, slightly crooked nose. “And as such, she is not cleared for any visitors at this time.”
“That’s preposterous!” Comenius protested, his handsome features tightening into a scowl. “Even Prisoner’s Isle allows their inmates visitors, and Sunaya hasn’t even been sentenced.”
“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time here,” the mage sneered. “With her volatile behavior, it’s only a matter of time before the Chief Mage has her executed –”
The animosity building inside me finally came to a head. I vaulted over the balcony, twisting around in the air before landing in a crouch directly in front of the mage.
“What was that you were saying about my volatile behavior?” I asked, baring my fangs at the snotty old mage. His wrinkly skin turned sallow, his beady eyes widening as much as they were capable.
“Naya!” Comenius and Noria exclaimed at the same time.
The mage’s bushy grey eyebrows quivered as he scowled at me. “Just what is the meaning of this, young lady? Are you threatening me?”
The guards standing by began to close in, and I stepped in front of my friends to shield them, not wanting them to get caught up in another altercation with these brutal bastards.
“Fenris,” I called out mentally. “Could use a little help here.”
“Sir, we apologize for the intrusion,” Comenius said swiftly from behind me. I turned to see him grab Noria around the waist and begin steering her towards the door. “We’ll just be on our way now –”
“No!” Noria actually stamped her foot. “I’m not leaving!” She flung herself at me, and I staggered as she wrapped her arms around my waist like a child would do to a mother who was trying to leave them behind somewhere.
“Noria,” I muttered, trying to extricate myself from her grasp as the guards drew closer, one of them testing the draw on his short sword. I didn’t want to give the guards an excuse to work off some of their aggression on her. “You can tone it down a notch.”
“May I ask what’s going on here?”
Relief sang through my veins at the sound of Fenris’s voice, and I turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs, watching us with a bemused expression.
“Oh hey.” I waved nonchalantly, as if I didn’t have a human girl dangling from my waist and a bevy of guards ready to pounce on us. “I’m just greeting some visitors.”
“This vile hybrid threatened me!” the reception mage shouted, pointing toward me with a trembling finger.
Fenris’s brow darkened as he descended the staircase. “I don’t care for your choice of words, Canter,” he said sternly, the guards backing away as he approached.
“Who is he?” Comenius murmured in my ear, watching wide-eyed at the way Fenris managed to intimidate everyone else in the room. “Isn’t he a shifter?”
“Yeah, but he’s friends with the Chief Mage,” I muttered back. “And also his right-hand man. So everyone seems to listen to him.”
“That’s strange,” Noria mused, also watching with narrowed eyes. “The Chief Mage giving a shifter that kind of power, while oppressing the other shifters under his rule?”
I shrugged, but the words struck me nevertheless. It was strange that Fenris had so much influence over the guards and even some of the mages around here, even if he was a friend of the Chief Mage’s. Moreover, I still didn’t understand why the two of them were friends in the first place, especially since the Chief Mage certainly didn’t show me any kind of preferential treatment. What made Fenris so special?
Canter seemed to recover from his momentary panic attack, and drew his robes around himself imperiously. “I don’t see what business it is of yours what I call her,” he sniffed, “but in any case that’s not the point. These two hooligans,” he jabbed a finger towards Comenius and Noria, “came in demanding to see the prisoner, and I denied them on account of the fact that she isn’t cleared for visitors.”
Fenris simply arched a brow, folding his arms over his broad chest. “I wasn’t aware that anyone had to be ‘cleared’ in order to receive visitors around here. Would you care to show me where such a policy exists?”
Huh. Good point.
Canter’s sallow cheeks reddened. “T-the Chief Mage s-said so,” he stuttered, and Fenris took a threatening step toward him, baring his fangs in a rare show of temper.
“You should know better than to lie to me,” he said in a soft voice. “Even if I couldn’t tell by your scent, it’s a simple enough matter for me to ask the Chief Mage myself. And I’m certain he would tell me that no such policy exists.”
“Huh,” Noria said. “Can shifters really smell when someone is lying?”
I grinned down at her. “It’s one of our many superpowers, kid,” I said, bumping my shoulder playfully into hers. Fenris shot me an annoyed look, but I didn’t care – I was just happy to have my friends with me.
“Your insinuations are insulting,” Canter snapped, but the scent of fresh sweat rolling out from his pores was telling – the man was a liar, and a bad one at that. “I refuse to stand here and be mocked like this.”
Fenris shrugged, gesturing to the chair behind the desk that was stationed in the foyer. “Fine, then sit and be insulted instead,” he said. “But either way, I see no reason why Sunaya can’t have a short visit with her friends.”
In the end, we were taken up to one of the “conference rooms” right off the balcony landing, which was essentially a parlor furnished in gold and green, with low couches and chaises and elegantly carved wooden furniture.
“Don’t think you aren’t under observation,” Fenris warned me, and left us to our own devices.
Suddenly nervous, I grabbed a gold-tasseled pillow and fidgeted with it as I sat. Noria and Comenius sat on the love seat opposite me.
“What?” I finally snapped, noticing the way their eyes brimmed with curiosity and reproach. “Why are you guys staring at me like that?”
“Well –,” Noria began.
“No.” Comenius laid a hand on her knee. “You can’t say it like that.”
“Like what?” Noria protested. “You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”
But I did. It was written clear as day on her freckled face. “You don’t think I’m suffering enough,” I said flatly.
Noria’s shoulders sagged, and she looked at me with a combination of guilt and anger. “Well, yeah.”
“Not that that we’re upset about it,” Comenius rushed to assure me. “It’s just that –”
“Oh who are you kidding?” Noria snapped, shoving Comenius’s hand off her knee. “Of course we’re upset about it. Or at least I am! I’ve been lying awake all night, thinking you’re being magically tortured and interrogated and experimented on, only to find out that you’re clothed and fed and perfectly healthy, and walking around as if you own the damned place.” She leveled a glare at me that was so fierce I actually shrank back a little in my seat.
“Look,” I said, scowling at Noria. “Just because I’m not chained to the wall in a dirty cell somewhere doesn’t mean I’m okay. I can’t set foot outside these walls until the Chief Mage decides to release me, and at the rate he’s going that might not be until next year.”
Noria glanced around at the fancy furnishings of the room. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a bad thing,” she said dubiously, her eyes lingering on the expensive-looking paintings that hung on the walls. �
�The Chief’s got excellent taste, for a mage.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, well, that didn’t do me much good when I was nearly beaten to death by the guards last night.”
“What!” Comenius shouted as Noria’s face went pale. “What do you mean, nearly beaten to death?”
“And by those guards?” The shock in Noria’s voice was evident. “There must have been an army of them if they were able to take you down.”
“I don’t know about an army,” I said dryly. “But there were a few.” I gave them a quick rundown of the incident, explaining that I’d basically been starved all day and had little energy left when the guards had jumped me in the kitchen. “If it weren’t for Fenris, I’d probably be dead.”
“Verflixt,” Comenius muttered and I blinked – it was rare for him to swear. His pale blue eyes burned with emotion. “I’m sorry, Naya. I should have known, should have done something –”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing you could have done,” I said gently, hating the guilt that was written all over his face. “And remember, had you not thought of appealing to the Chief Mage, I’d likely be dead. It’s okay, anyway. I’m all better now.”
“I can see that.” Noria studied me, her dark eyes glittering with suspicion. “From what you’ve said it sounds like you were injured really badly. Whoever healed you must have been really good.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “It was the Chief Mage, actually.”
Comenius’s jaw dropped. “Iannis ar’Sannin himself healed you?”
I groaned. “It’s not a big deal, guys. Fenris brought my bleeding, broken body up to his room and demanded he do it.”
“Still,” Comenius mused. “He could have simply ordered any one of his mages to do it. This is very interesting.”
“What it is, is concerning,” Noria said, leaning forward. “Naya, you aren’t like, becoming friends with these people, are you? Just because the Chief Mage wiggled his fingers and did some magic mumbo jumbo on you doesn’t mean that he’s your best bud now. If anything, it’s his fault this happened to you in the first place.”
