by Jasmine Walt
“You were right to be suspicious of Fenris, but your reasoning is completely off base,” I said at last, and Garrett’s eyebrows winged up. “Fenris wasn’t Polar—he was Polar’s son.”
Garrett nearly fell out of his chair. “That’s ridiculous,” he sputtered, looking at me as though I were insane. “Polar wasn’t married, and I never heard that he had any children. Believe me, I investigated his past in great detail. And even if he had been married, it would never have been to a shifter.”
“Well, you missed one secret,” I insisted, thankful Garrett did not have a shifter nose—the lie I was spinning was outrageous, but no more so than the truth. “About forty years ago, Polar had a one-night stand with a wolf shifter female that resulted in Fenris. The wolf shifter refused to keep the cub because he was a hybrid. Since Polar couldn’t acknowledge him without causing scandal, he entrusted him to Mendir ar’Tollis, Polar’s cousin, to be raised discreetly.” There was a little truth sprinkled in there—Mendir actually was Polar’s cousin. He’d been a reclusive mage who lived near Nebara’s chilly northern border, and his scholarly tastes had run very similarly to Fenris’s.
“Mendir?” Garrett’s brow contracted. “I have been to his estate in my search for Polar. The old fellow died a couple of years before the scandal, and the place was empty. But I talked to the neighbors, and there was no mention of any wolf shifter.”
“He was very eccentric and reclusive, from what Fenris told me. He made Fenris hide in the library on the rare occasions he admitted visitors. Fenris told me all about how he had to hunker down behind the big green leather sofas as a cub.”
Garrett blinked as that particular detail, which would have been impossible for me to know under normal circumstances, struck home. “Unlike me, Fenris only had a tiny bit of magic,” I continued before Garrett could ask any awkward questions, “but he was still brought up as a mage, and he became Mendir’s research assistant when he was older. He also corresponded with Polar about their research. When Mendir died five years ago, he inherited his mountain property, but it was very lonely up there, so Fenris took discreet trips to the city to visit his father.”
“No wonder you two were close, then,” Garrett said, sounding astonished. “You were both shifter-mage hybrids.”
“Yep.” My throat tightened a little—there was truth to that, even if not quite in the way I was spinning it for Garrett. “After Polar got into trouble—”
“Trouble,” my ether parrot squawked, materializing on top of Garret’s head again.
“Dammit,” Garrett shouted, flailing his arms about in an effort to dislodge the bird, and giving me more time to think up a logical conclusion to my story.
“Get over here,” I told the bird, holding out an arm.
“Here,” Trouble cried, launching himself off Garrett’s head. He landed on my forearm with a flap of his wings, sending a little hum of magic through me. “As I was saying,” I continued, stroking the parrot’s ghostly head, “once Polar got into hot water, he wrote to Iannis and asked him to take Fenris in, knowing that once he died, Fenris would have no one. Iannis agreed, and he and Fenris became good friends. You know the rest,” I finished with a glare. “And before you ask, Fenris had no contact with Polar while he lived here. He once told me that he suspected Polar had gone to Faricia.”
Garrett was silent for a long moment, clearly weighing each aspect of the story I’d just spun from him. “It is plausible, what you say,” he finally agreed. “I did not know Polar very well, but he was a mage through and through. It would be unthinkable for one of us to live as a shifter, even to escape certain death. Had such a transformation even been possible, submitting to it would not have been in character. Despite the evidence pointing in that direction, I found it hard to believe that your Fenris and Polar could have been one and the same. I’m glad you finally saw fit to explain about his peculiarities.”
I was silent, resolutely repressing a tiny spark of guilt at misleading him. There was no point in feeling remorse—Garrett could never learn the truth, or Iannis would be at risk once more. “Now he is dead, I am no longer bound by my promise to keep his secrets,” I finally said.
“In any case, I shall no longer be devoting so much time to this matter,” Garrett said, smiling thinly. “I may have become a little too obsessed with this case, to the detriment of my career.”
“Maybe you could stop attacking my fiancé, too,” I suggested dryly, “and just focus on being good at your job, if you want the Minister’s position so badly.”
Garrett’s face flushed. “I am good at my job,” he said, drawing himself upright. “And I am not afraid to do whatever is required to move up in the ranks. But,” he admitted, softening a little, “these past few days have shown me that Lord Iannis is a very good Chief Mage indeed, who went far beyond what most of his peers would have done to save and protect his citizens. It would be a disservice to the people of Canalo to remove him. So you need not fear on that count.” He stood up, then bowed low. “I must go check on Harron now. Good evening, Miss Baine.”
He walked out, taking all the fear and anxiety I’d been experiencing over the last few days with him. Sighing, I settled back into the couch, feeling both relieved and sad. My lies had been spun too late to do Fenris any good, but with any luck, they would at least save Iannis from further persecution.
20
I wanted to tell Iannis about Garrett’s change of heart right away and make sure he’d back up my story, but my serapha charm told me he was still in meetings. So instead I called my social secretary, Nelia, to my quarters, and the two of us spent the rest of the evening rearranging my schedule for the next month. Nelia raised a brow when she noticed how much I was cutting down my magic lessons, but she accepted the current state of affairs as a necessary excuse. I was determined to spend more time volunteering, not just in Shiftertown, but in Maintown as well. The city would need all the help it could get to recover from this new catastrophe, and I wanted to be down in the trenches with the rest of the workers.
When we were finally done, I dismissed Nelia for the night, then crawled into Iannis’s bed to wait for him. He came in at around two in the morning, waking me from a sound slumber as he settled his weight onto the edge of the mattress.
“How’d it go?” I asked sleepily as he stroked my hair. I rolled over, and even in the dim light, I could see the exhaustion and stress etched into his handsome features. “That bad?”
He sighed. “We had to break it to the three local mages and Pillick that their magic was irretrievably gone. And that bear shifter as well. It was harrowing.”
I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat at the thought of that poor shifter. I couldn’t imagine what he and his family were going through right now. I would have to visit him, to express my condolences and offer what assistance I could.
“The Council is very unhappy that we have not found a magical method of dealing with this Eraser,” Iannis went on. “The object is simply too dangerous for any mage to attempt approaching it or touching it with their magic. We have no idea what might happen.”
“So what did you decide?”
“We considered calling in the best human scientists in the country to come and study the Magic Eraser, so that they might come up with a better solution. But as you might expect, the Council is uneasy about having such a dangerous object in our midst, or letting human scientists handle such a weapon. If they managed to duplicate it, after all…”
“I can’t blame them. Better to destroy or get rid of it, if at all possible.” Gently, I grabbed Iannis’s forearm and pulled him down on the bed next to me. “Garrett came to see me, and he was devastated about what happened to his assistant. I was surprised he felt so strongly about the guy. But he gave me some good news, too.”
“Oh?” Iannis’s eyebrows rose. “Is that meddlesome bastard finally leaving?”
Grinning, I told him about the conversation I’d had with Garrett, and the elaborate story I’d spun about
Fenris’s past. By the time I finished, Iannis was looking decidedly amused.
“That was some very quick thinking, a ghra,” he said, dropping a kiss onto my forehead. “And your suggestions about creating human and shifter task forces were also quite inspired. I will be surprised if the Minister allows it, but he may come around to the idea in time.”
“He’d better,” I growled. “We can’t afford any more of this class bullshit. It’s time for us all to start working together.”
“I agree.” Iannis wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I snuggled against him, listening to his steady heartbeat. “I still can’t believe Fenris is gone,” he whispered. His salty tears scented the air, and my throat swelled with grief all over again. “He only lived here for three years—a blink of an eye in a life as long as mine. Yet, now that he is gone, it’s as if something vital has been torn from me.” He swallowed. “I’ll always miss his counsel, his steady presence, and his loyalty. I don’t think I told him enough how much I valued his friendship.”
“I know.” I wrapped my arms around Iannis, hugging him tight. The mental vault I’d stuffed all my Fenris-related memories and emotions into finally burst open, the tears coming fast and furious now. I started to tell Iannis to about Fenris’s gift to me, but my throat seized up in another swell of grief. That discussion could wait for another day.
When tomorrow came, we would have to put on brave faces and deal with the world again. But for now, we clung to each other all through the night, mourning the loss of our beloved friend.
The next morning, Iannis went to his office to deal with the Magic Eraser’s disposal, while Rylan and I had a quick breakfast before meeting Annia in the lobby. Dressed in her enforcer leathers, with her sword strapped to her belt and that mysterious, powerful aura around her, she looked ready to kick some serious ass.
“Wow,” Rylan said, looking her up and down with undisguised admiration. “You look…different.”
“It’s the tan,” Annia said with a wink, turning away. “A couple of months of sunshine can do wonders for a girl.”
Rylan smiled, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. We followed Annia down to the kitchens, where Mrs. Tandry was running an assembly line, wrapping and packing up boxes of meat, bread, and cheese to take to the survivor tents on the outskirts of town. We’d already agreed beforehand to come and help, so we pitched in, then got all the boxes out to the delivery area, where they were loaded onto a giant steamtruck.
“It’s definitely not just her tan,” Rylan said in mindspeak as we rode alongside the truck in a smaller vehicle. He was staring at Annia unabashedly as she looked out the window at our ruined city, lost in thought. “Something fundamental about Annia has changed. She seems older somehow…and sexier.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘powerful’.”
Rylan’s expression didn’t change, but I could practically feel him grinning on the inside. “So what? Power is sexy, right? And she’s definitely got some serious…something, about her. But she doesn’t smell like a mage. What’s happened?”
“You’d have to ask her,” I said evasively. The high neckline of Annia’s leather jacket covered her torque, so I figured she didn’t want to advertise it. “She mentioned something to me about some unique adventures, but she was pretty vague about it. I don’t think she’s ready to share yet.”
“I’ll get it out of her at some point,” Rylan said, his eyes gleaming at the challenge. He was looking at Annia like she was a fine sirloin steak that he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into.
“Oh yeah?” I dug my elbow into his ribs, just enough to make him flinch. “And what about Nelia?” I bit back a grin as Rylan’s cheeks reddened.
“What are you two talking about?” Annia asked.
“Nothing,” we said in unison.
Annia arched a brow, and Rylan’s face flushed even further. “Just a personal problem,” he amended with a sheepish smile. “You know, shifter stuff.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Unconvinced, Annia turned her dark gaze back to the streets, and I tried not to laugh. If Rylan wanted a challenge, he’d sure picked the right person—Annia was just as big a flirt as he was when she wanted to be, but she was also a very tough nut to crack if she wasn’t interested. And though I’d seen her eyeing Rylan once or twice, she rarely dated outside her own race.
We rolled to a stop in the Shiftertown Town Center, and the three of us got out to say hello to the volunteers who were already assembled to unload the truck. The volunteers were mostly shifters, but there were some humans, too. To my surprise, I recognized them from Father Calmias’s congregation. Had he already begun talking to his followers? I wondered if he’d been out volunteering in Maintown yesterday—I’d been too stuck in grief and despair to notice. Or perhaps he’d fallen victim to the quake, like too many others.
We got the supplies off the truck in short order, and the volunteers behind the tables set up in the square handed the food to the lines of people waiting. Annia and I helped them dole out pre-portioned packages of varying sizes depending on the family, and I took the time to say a few words to each mother, father, or child who came up, asking how they were coping. Most of them sported bruises and stitches of some kind, and there were more than a few with serious injuries. I made a mental note to come back tomorrow and set up a makeshift clinic in the square, and to rope a few other mages into helping out. We couldn’t heal everyone, but we could at least alleviate some of the worst injuries.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched a middle-aged woman with a nasty burn on her forearm approach our table. As Annia handed her a basket of food, she casually brushed her hand against the woman’s arm. The scent of magic stung my nostrils, and Rylan, who stood watchfully nearby, stiffened. To my astonishment, the woman’s burn healed completely. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to thank Annia, but Annia only winked, pressing a finger against her lips. Understanding, the woman smiled, then melted away into the crowd, taking the evidence of what Annia had done with her.
My eyes met Annia’s, and she shrugged a little before turning to help the next person in line. I forced myself to focus my attention on the next person waiting for food in my own line—a fourteen-year-old boy—but even as I made small talk with him, my mind was still stuck on Annia. That spirit, or goddess, or whatever she was, clearly wasn’t limited to what she could do in dreams. Annia could wield her magic, just like any mage! I’d never heard of such a thing before. Carefully, I creaked open the door to Fenris’s memories to see if there were any records of humans acquiring magic that way. But nothing popped out, so I guessed it must be very rare.
I’d love to discuss what it means with Fenris, I thought, and a pang of agony hit me in the chest. By Magorah, everything was going to remind me of him. It had been that way with Roanas, my mentor, for a good few months, before the pain of his loss began to fade into something like acceptance.
A couple of hours later, the crowd finally began to thin out. As we handed out the final packages of food, I noticed a wizened old man loitering nearby, shooting me a look of abject hatred. He was dressed in a navy-blue tunic, his skin sallow and wrinkled, his head completely bald. As soon as he noticed me staring, he averted his face. Shrugging, I turned away. My ring was only moderately warm, so he wasn’t much of a threat, whoever he was.
“Look again,” Annia said in a low voice that sounded a lot like the exotic woman in my dreams. She leaned in close, her shoulder brushing against mine, and I caught the scent of dragon fruit and chilies. “That man is an enemy.”
“Rylan,” I murmured, making a subtle gesture for him to come forward. “Come with me a sec.”
I stepped out from behind the table, and slowly approached the old man. As soon as he saw me coming, he tried to hurry away, but his decrepit form and withered limbs didn’t allow him much speed.
“Hang on there,” Rylan said, appearing in front of him in an instant. “We just want a quick word.”
“By Magorah,” I breathed as the man’s scent hit me. Beneath the stench of decay was a very familiar male scent, one that made my blood boil. “Argon Chartis, it’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he spat, whirling about to face me. Up close, I could see the remnants of what used to be his handsome, if cold, face, buried beneath age and illness. His thick chestnut hair and smooth skin were gone, and in their place was a bitter old man. “Are you happy to see me brought so low, Miss Baine? Why don’t you get it over with and arrest me?” He shoved his wrists at me. For a moment, I was tempted to do as he said and cuff them.
But I could sense absolutely no magic coming off him, and somehow it seemed wrong to chain such a sorry creature, even if he had committed horrendous crimes.
“So what the hell happened to you, then?” I said instead, crossing my arms over my chest. “Did Thorgana’s Magic Eraser get to you?”
“Yes,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing. “I met with her at the Mendles’ house, and she nearly killed me with that damned thing. At first I didn’t realize why I was weakening, but once I figured out that blasted metal object was the cause, I dragged myself from the house as fast as I could manage.” He clenched his jaw. “I was only there for around thirty minutes, but that was enough time. I have no magic left.”
Rylan and I exchanged a horrified look—thirty minutes? That was all it took to strip the magic from a powerful mage like Chartis? “Prove it,” I said, grabbing his gnarled hands. Had the lack of magic accelerated his aging process? Speaking the words of the testing spell, I pushed my magic into him, searching for that glowing core inside all mages. But there was only a wasteland inside of him, devoid of all but the tiniest spark.
