by Jasmine Walt
“That’s right,” Mr. Handmar said gruffly, coming into the paddock with Fenris. Crouching low, he ran his hands up and down the stallion’s legs. “Incredible. I guess his leg really wasn’t broken.”
“Excellent,” Fenris said, patting the horse’s shoulder. The stallion flicked his tail, but he seemed content to let Fenris touch him. “Because I would like to buy him.”
Mr. Handmar and I exchanged surprised glances. “Really? You don’t want to give him a few days first and make sure his leg is really all right? I would hate to sell him to you only to find out that he’s permanently damaged.”
Fenris smiled. “I have every confidence in Miss Hollin’s abilities,” he said, running a hand along the stallion’s mane. “If she says the horse is fine, then I believe her.”
After Mr. Handmar put the gelding through a demonstration as well—his wife wasn’t about to let her sons near the paddock again today, not that I could blame her—Fenris arranged with the breeder to buy both horses. To my surprise, he pulled three gold coins from a small pouch tied to his belt and paid upfront.
“That’s a bit too much for just two horses,” Mr. Handmar said as he took the coins, sounding bemused. “I’ll have to give you change.”
He pulled out several silver coins from his purse, and Fenris winced. “I’ll take those and add them to your account at the general store,” I said quickly, palming the coins. “Shifters are allergic to silver,” I explained.
“Oh!” Mr. Handmar started. “I apologize—I’d completely forgotten about that. I have to confess, I’m not certain how much I’ve heard about shifters is actually true and how much is just myth.”
Fenris smiled. “It’s quite all right. You now know two things—that we’re allergic to silver and we can shift any time we want, regardless of the full moon. I’m happy to answer any other questions you might have, if you’re ever curious to learn more about my kind.”
“I may take you up on that,” Mr. Handmar said, “but another time, perhaps. I think we’ve all had quite enough excitement for today!”
While Mr. Handmar and Fenris drew up the paperwork for the sale, I went to check on the pregnant mare—the reason I’d come here in the first place. She was doing fine, only a few weeks away from her due date, and after I was done, I met Fenris back at the cart so I could hitch my horse. We tied the gelding behind the cart so we could take him with us, and Mr. Handmar said he would deliver the stallion in about a week, after he was certain the horse was fully healed and ready to go.
We said farewell to the Handmars, then drove back to Fenris’s farm to drop him and the gelding off before I returned home to tend to more patients. The first few minutes of the ride were silent, for which I was grateful. Fenris’s gaze was far too keen for my liking, and I wasn’t sure if I could successfully fend off his questions.
Unfortunately, the silence did not last nearly as long as I would have liked.
“I know a break when I see one,” he said in that deep baritone of his. “Under normal circumstances, that horse would have been put down, so I am glad you were able to save him with your magic. How often do you do that sort of thing?”
I nearly dropped the reins. “How…” Twenty questions exploded in my mind all at once, and it took me a few minutes to sort them.
“I don’t suppose it would be any use to tell you that you are mistaken?” I asked, cringing inwardly. “A gentleman does not contradict a lady, after all.”
“I’m afraid not,” he said, sounding amused. “Magic has a very distinct scent—not unlike burnt sugar.”
My cheeks flamed—clearly, denial was of no use. “You seem strangely at ease about this,” I said, after a long pause. “Aren’t shifters supposed to be afraid of magic?”
Fenris shrugged. “I spent most of my life in a big city filled with magic users,” he said. “Getting used to magic was a necessity for me. And you haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows. “How often do you do this?”
My cheeks warmed. “I only know a very little bit of magic,” I confessed, seeing no point in lying since shifters could scent lies from truth. “Mostly just what I need to help the animals I treat. I am a perfectly legitimate, human-trained vet,” I added, lifting my chin.
Fenris grinned a little, as if amused by my standoffish behavior. “I never thought to suggest otherwise,” he said. “You can be a well-trained vet and still use magic.”
“I…you truly aren’t bothered by my magic?” I asked, anxiety seeping into my tone despite my efforts to remain calm. I knew it was unlikely for Fenris, an outsider himself, to rat me out to the town, but I couldn’t discount the possibility. He was a stranger, after all, and I could not let myself forget that, no matter how at ease I felt with him.
His expression sobered instantly. “Not in the least,” he assured me. “I am no stranger to secrets, Mina—we all have our skeletons in our closets. I will never tell a soul about what I saw today, and I doubt Mr. Handmar will say anything either, even if he should suspect. But I don’t think he does—in my experience, humans are quick to accept the first explanation that makes sense to them, and he has no reason to think you have any powers with which to heal a broken leg.”
I let out a long breath. “If this was the only incident, then perhaps I would not be so worried,” I said. “But even if you and Mr. Handmar do not say anything, I am already under suspicion for practicing magic.”
Fenris sat up straighter in his seat. “What do you mean?”
I bit my lip. “The constable came by to see me the other day about it,” I told him. “Roor’s mother has accused me of using a hex or some other form of magic to cause him to stumble and pass out the other night. Which, of course, I did not do—as I said, my magic is very limited.”
“Is that so?” Fenris sounded startled. When I glanced at him, I thought I caught a flash of guilt in his eyes. But what would he have to feel guilty about? “That seems awfully petty of her. It’s obvious to anybody who was there that Roor had far too much to drink that night.”
“Yes, you would think so,” I said bitterly. “The Roors are rich, but not popular. Mrs. Roor is a vile bigot and does not like anyone except her son. I’m not sure she even likes him. She hates shifters on principle, and mages as well. Most of all, she hates me for her son’s persistent infatuation—she thinks I’m leading him on, though it’s anyone’s guess why she believes I’m encouraging him in any way. But she is quite capable of denouncing me to the Mages Guild as an illegal magic user, simply for the pleasure of causing me difficulties.”
“That would be most unjust.” Fenris’s expression darkened, and I was surprised to see how troubled he looked by my revelation. “I am sorry this has happened to you—you certainly do not deserve to be persecuted because one man cannot take no for an answer. If you need any help, please do not hesitate to call on me.”
My heart warmed at his concern. “I will, thank you,” I said, though I wasn’t quite certain what he could do about it. I did not want to bring more trouble to Fenris’s doorstep, not when he was still so new in town. Besides, I didn’t need a defender. What I really needed was a tutor to help me get a better grip on my magic, but a shifter would not be able to help with that, even one comfortable with using magical charms.
At least he’s not going to betray my secret. Which was a pleasant surprise. It felt…good, to be able to tell someone the truth about myself and know he was not going to judge or condemn me. Perhaps we might become friends after all—if I wasn’t forced to flee Abbsville in the near future.
I’d better take more care about doing magic with witnesses nearby. Because if I had another slip-up, it would spell the end of my life here.
8
Fenris
After Mina dropped me off, I took Makar to the stables, which I had already prepared with water from the well, fresh hay, and sacks filled with oats. I thought about feeding him first but then decided to brush him down—the grooming ritual would speed the bonding
between horse and master as the gelding got used to my scent.
As I checked the horse’s hooves, my mind drifted back to the surprising discovery I’d made today. I’d suspected there was something different about Mina from the moment I’d met her, but even so, the revelation that she could use magic had not been what I was expecting.
Well, this certainly explains why she looks so young for her age. Young, pretty, and a mage… The memory of her scent washed over me, a combination of lilacs and sunshine, and a tingling warmth spread through my body. Shaking my head, I forced myself to stop thinking about her, but it was difficult. I’d spent hours with her today, sitting in the cart so close to that sweet, fresh scent, feeling her body heat radiating from beneath that thin dress. She’d been close enough to touch, and I’d been tempted more than once to reach out and see if her peach-colored skin was as soft as it looked.
This is ridiculous. I finished with the horse’s hooves and grabbed the curry comb. Mina was far too young for me, and she did not need to be encumbered by a fugitive with dark secrets lurking in the shadows. I sometimes longed to settle down with a mate and raise a family, but those were mere daydreams. I could not bring danger on any other person when I could be discovered and arrested at any moment. There was still a death sentence hanging over me. Until I had established myself in my new identity and was certain I had permanently evaded capture, I could only dream about letting someone else into my life.
Not wanting to dwell on that problem, I returned my attention to Mina’s predicament. Was she a human-mage hybrid, with a mage mother or father out there who had never taken responsibility for her training? Or had she been born with magic into a human family? Either case would have made for a very difficult upbringing. And how had she evaded the obligatory testing for magic during her school years? That was supposed to be impossible.
And yet, I thought, this is the second case I’ve encountered recently of a full-grown adult possessing hidden magic. Just how many more were out there, keeping their heads down, hiding behind mundane professions, and doing their best to keep their talents a secret? At least Mina could use her magic to some extent in her profession, which was impressive if she didn’t have any training. Sunaya, who was quite powerful, had no control over her magic when she’d first been dragged to Solantha Palace in chains.
Of course, that was due to that blasted magic block that had been put on her when she was a baby, I thought crossly. The spell had protected Sunaya when she was a child and allowed her to pass the testing without detection, but the mage who’d cast it had not factored in how powerful she would become, and it had begun failing in her adult years. She was very lucky Iannis and I had found her, rather than another Chief Mage, or she could very well have been executed.
But that was neither here nor there. Mina was obviously not in the same situation—she had no magical block on her powers, just a lack of training. She had surprisingly good control of her abilities for someone who wasn’t tutored—she had done a marvelous job with that horse’s broken leg in such a short amount of time. Judging by her expertise, she’d been using her magic for quite some time to treat her animal patients and had gotten away with it so far.
Yet now the danger of discovery loomed over her pretty blonde head. My mood soured at the thought of that lout, Roor. With his mother making such a fuss about Mina, it was only a matter of time until she landed in big trouble. And it was my fault, I acknowledged, guilt sitting heavy in my stomach. My fault for using my magic in front of all those guests to immobilize Roor.
Then again, Mina would have been suspected sooner or later even without my interference. I bet that she had a success rate far above the average veterinarian. It was amazing, considering how easily she had healed that leg, that she had gone undetected for this long.
Another example of how stupid and wasteful it is to stamp out non-approved magic, I concluded as I finished brushing the horse. I gave him a pat, then fetched a bag of oats and poured it into his bucket. I watched the horse for another moment, then once I was satisfied he would be all right, headed back into the house. As I washed my hands at the kitchen sink, I thought back to how anxious Mina had looked after I challenged her about having magic, and how relieved she’d been when I assured her that her secret was still safe. She’d probably been dreading being found out for years, imagining what it would be like to be ostracized, driven out of town, or, in the worst case, imprisoned for illegal magic, as Sunaya had been. I could not stand by and watch her fears come to pass.
There was no reason I could not be of assistance, so long as I was discreet about it and did not act on the attraction I felt. Nothing more than friendship could come of this.
And why would anything more come of it? I scolded myself. You have far too high an opinion of yourself to think that spending time with Mina could lead to a romantic relationship. As I understood it, she could have any unmarried man in Abbsville. In fact, from all accounts, she had rejected most of them. And I was a shifter, to boot. Why would she see me in any different light?
But then, her standoffish attitude toward men was likely because she needed to hide her magic. Just as I was reluctant to let a woman into my life because of my dangerous secrets, she would also be hesitant about letting a normal human get that close to her. In a small town like this, she could not easily find anyone who would be willing to keep her magic a secret. It was admirable how well she’d managed to fit into this human community, but, underneath that, she might be just as lonely as I was.
That does not mean she would be receptive to advances from you, I told myself sternly. A shifter would be just as unsuitable a match as a human. Then again, was there any acceptable match for an illegal magic user?
Tired of my circular and unproductive thoughts, I made myself a sandwich, then went back out to the stables and saddled the gelding. It was high time I did something useful, and now was as good a time as any to find out what Marris and his friends had been up to the other night.
It did not take me very long to retrace my steps—my wolf side had an excellent sense of direction, and there had been enough markers for me to find my way. The gelding objected when I’d first swung myself up in the saddle, but a touch of magic—perhaps even the same spell Mina had used to quiet her mare when I’d first approached—was enough to relax him. Soon, we settled into a steady rhythm.
It feels good to have a mount again, I thought as we passed beneath the forest canopy. The last time I’d ridden a horse for any length of time was when I’d fled Nebara, when I’d still been Polar ar’Tollis, the renegade Chief Mage. Riding as Fenris required a bit of readjustment, as my current body was vastly different—Polar had been tall and lean, whereas my shifter body was shorter and stockier, with more muscle, thicker thighs, and broader shoulders.
It was not long before I found the glade with the brook where I’d spotted Marris and his friends. The place looked much more cheerful in the afternoon light, and I pulled the gelding to a stop, taking a moment to inhale the earthy scents of the forest. Oak and maple were predominating, though beneath them I could smell scat from various forest animals mixed in with the dirt and a few pungent mushrooms. I dismounted the gelding, then tied him to a tree and crossed the brook so I could try to pick up any scent traces my new friends had left on the other side.
It took very little effort to track their scents. A few minutes later, I found a deer trail with recent hoofprints stamped into the dirt. This must have been where they came from, I thought, following the path. It led me to a side valley, completely hidden—I never would have known it was here if I had not used my shifter senses to retrace Marris’s steps. The trees thinned out as the hills rose on either side, casting the place in shadow.
Further down the valley were some rocky cliffs tucked into the hillsides that rolled up into the mountains. To my surprise, I discovered a sturdy wooden door in the rock face with a big shiny padlock. I examined it for any hint of rust or wear, but found none, telling me it was fairly new. Had Ma
rris and his friends installed it? The scent confirmed my hypothesis.
Excitement began to course through my veins, although I was quick to temper it with caution. There was no telling what I might find behind this door, though my nose determined there was nothing living lurking here, nor any dead bodies. The scent of Marris and his friends was unmistakable, but it did not appear that anyone else had been here recently. A spell muttered beneath my breath easily undid the lock. I eased the door open and stepped inside.
Behind the door, a tunnel led further into the cliff, so dark beyond the first curve that even my shifter eyes could pick out very little. Not wanting to leave the door open in case anyone else came by, I shut it behind me, then conjured a ball of white fire to help light my way. The flames flickered above my palm as I silently crept down the tunnel.
It was a mine. I lifted a rusty pickaxe from a heap of stones. A quick sniff told me Marris and his friends had used it recently…and that they were mining gold. My eyebrows rose—this was a highly illegal activity. The mining of natural gold had been strictly banned by the highest authority, the Convention of Chief Mages. All currency, whether it be gold, silver, copper, or pandanum, was created by the various Mages Guilds and rationed out carefully via the accredited mages in yearly allotments.
Since a forger could easily create counterfeit coins out of mined gold, doing so carried an almost automatic death sentence. Still, some people thought it worth the risk. Without using a detection spell on individual coins, or having a shifter nose that could sniff out the lack of magical residue, the forged coins would look the same. Nobody would know the difference.
Was that what Marris was doing? I examined the evidence as I wandered further into the mine. Sure enough, there were more traces of gold ore in the walls—quite a lot, in fact, considering the piles of rubble meant a significant portion had already been mined. The Benefactor had used such illegal gold to fund her operations, but she had access to professional forgers and conveniently owned a chain of banks to launder the illicit coins. I doubted Marris and his friends had the skill to mint coins, and who else out here could?
