by Jasmine Walt
“There,” Fenris finally said, pulling back. His face was taut with strain from the stress and pain of performing such a complicated healing, but satisfaction shone in his gaze. “It is mended.”
I glanced down. Sure enough, the damaged blood vessels were like new again. “Amazing,” I breathed, tracing the area with my forefinger.
Fenris released my hand, and my magical vision subsided, the dog’s chest returning to normal. A sense of loss filled me. I looked down at my hand, uncertain as to whether I missed Fenris’s touch or the magical skill I’d briefly wielded because of joining my magic with him. Lifting my head, I met Fenris’s yellow gaze, a dozen questions buzzing at my lips. His expression was completely unreadable, but his shoulders tensed. It was obvious he was not looking forward to the forthcoming interrogation.
Fortunately for him, the kitchen door swung open before I could ask the first question. Fenris and I both turned to see the Dolan family file in, identical expressions of composed grief on their faces.
“Thank you, Mina,” Mrs. Dolan said as I rose to meet her. “We must come to terms that even the best vet cannot perform miracles. Please make her as comfortable as possible, give her something against the pain. Then we’ll keep vigil with her for as long as she still has.”
I smiled. “As it happens, I found on closer examination the case is not as desperate as all that,” I announced. “She should fully recover once she wakes from her nap, and may live for several more months, perhaps even another year or two.”
Marris’s jaw dropped. “What?” Dana cried, tears of joy springing to her eyes. “But I thought you said we had days?”
“I was mistaken,” I said, my smile growing wider at the looks of astonishment on their faces. “I gave her some sleeping medicine so she can finish resting up through the night, but in the morning, I think you’ll find her to be full of energy.”
“Oh, thank you, Mina!” Dana threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. Tears choked her voice as she squeezed my ribcage, and I held back a wince. Her younger brothers looked equally delighted, especially Decrin. “You’ve saved Tira’s life!”
The Dolans spent the next few minutes rejoicing, crowding around the dog and petting her. Tira didn’t wake from her magically-induced slumber, but her tail did wag a little, and that was enough to make them happy. They thanked me profusely for my help and offered to send me fresh strawberry pies in addition to the two coppers Mrs. Dolan pressed into my hand.
Fenris bid them goodnight, telling them he would take me home in the steamtruck and then fetch his horse from their stable to ride home. They offered him a bed for the evening upon his return—it was still raining outside, though not as heavily as before, but he politely declined, saying he needed to be at home to care for his own horses and make sure his new stallion had not been spooked during the storm.
A heavy silence fell between us as we walked toward the cab, and I found myself struggling to figure out how to respond to what had just happened. I was still in shock, my mind whirling as I tried to reconcile what I’d seen with what I knew about shifters and magic.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I said once we were inside the cab, the doors closed firmly on either side. “It is very clear that you know much more about magic than I do, or at least about magical healing.”
Fenris nodded as he started up the engine. “There is no need to apologize—you had no reason to believe that I had any skill with magic. The notion likely defies everything you have been taught.”
“That’s an understatement,” I said as he eased us onto the road. “Try as I might, I can’t understand how it is you were able to perform such advanced healing. Are you not truly a shifter then, but a mage in disguise?”
Fenris chuckled, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “There is no easy way to explain what I am,” he said, “but we certainly do need to talk. Perhaps over a glass of brandy.”
Yes, I thought as we pulled up in front of my house. A glass of brandy sounded like just the thing right now. Fenris killed the engine, then hopped out of the truck. I reached for the handle to my own door, but he was already on the other side, opening it. He extended a hand to help me down, and as I took it, a current of warmth rippled up my arm. Our gazes locked as he gently eased me down to the drenched sidewalk, and my cheeks heated as his nostrils flared. Could he sense the way he affected me with these small touches?
Get a grip, Mina, I scolded myself as I turned away. I fished my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door. You’re just shaken from all these recent upheavals.
Fenris came in after me and shut the door behind him. As he shrugged his coat from his broad shoulders and hung it on the rack, my eyes were drawn to the play of muscles flexing beneath his damp tunic. Swallowing hard, I turned away and went to the kitchen to fetch the bottle of brandy tucked away in one of my cupboards. Shifters couldn’t scent butterflies in the stomach, could they? I wondered anxiously as I crouched below the counter and opened the cabinet. The bottle beckoned, still over half-full, a welcome sight despite the layer of dust covering it. I rarely indulged, since the stuff was so expensive, but after the night we’d had, tea didn’t seem like enough. Straightening, I pulled two glasses from one of the upper cabinets, then dusted off the brandy bottle and splashed a generous amount into each one.
“Thank you,” Fenris said as I handed him the drink. He’d come to stand at the kitchen counter rather than sit on the couch. We both took a long sip, and I sighed a little as the liquid slid smoothly down my throat, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Some of the chill began to subside from my skin, and I was tempted to gulp down the rest. But not until I’d asked some questions.
“So,” I said as Fenris took another sip. “How is it that a shifter knows Loranian?”
He froze, the glass halfway to his lips. It was the first time I’d seen him thrown off balance, his yellow eyes shimmering with shock, and for some reason, that filled me with satisfaction. Not unflappable, I thought as he slowly set his glass down.
“Loranian, eh?” he asked, arching a brow. “How is it that you recognize it?”
I blinked. “I’m a mage, of course. What else?”
He frowned. “As in, you were born to a mage family?”
The confusion in his voice was evident, and it suddenly dawned on me—he must think I was a wild talent, born to a human family, or perhaps even a half-breed like him.
“Yes,” I explained, reaching for my brandy again. I took a long sip to steady myself before I spoke again—this conversation was about to steer into dangerous territory. My hands were already growing clammy as old memories threatened to rise to the surface. “I learned Loranian when I was quite young, as most mage children do, and had a special tutor for a year when I was fourteen. But that was over a decade ago, and I’m largely out of practice. I do still recognize when it is spoken, though,” I said sternly, crossing my arms over my chest. “So let’s not get distracted. How is it that you know it and are able to use it?”
Fenris hesitated, as if unsure of how much he should tell me. “My…ah…progenitor, shall we say, was a powerful mage, and I have learned at least as much as a normal mage apprentice, though for obvious reasons, I have never claimed official mage status. As you can imagine, it would be best if my possession of this knowledge remained hidden, which is why I prefer not to live among other shifters. Unlike humans, they would sniff me out the first time I used magic in their presence.”
My eyes widened as realization suddenly dawned on me. “It was you,” I cried, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re the one who made Roor stumble at the party!”
“Yes.” To his credit, Fenris looked chagrined. “For which I am sorry, for as it turned out, my meddling did more harm than good. At the time, it merely seemed an easy way to defuse his aggression.”
“I can’t exactly blame you for immobilizing that lout when he was about to attack us,” I admitted—as a matter of fact, had I known the sleeping spell, I might well have done
the same at that moment, even if it had brought more trouble than it was worth. “But if you really feel guilty,” I added with a grin, “you can stay for a while and answer my questions.”
His eyebrows rose. “What questions?”
I rolled my eyes at the guarded look on his face and rounded the counter so I could sit down on the couch. Fenris trailed after me, and the weight of his regard pressed down between my shoulder blades. I expected him to sit down on the loveseat, but he joined me on the couch instead, leaning back into the cushions and spreading his free arm over the back. His tunic was still a bit damp, and the fabric clung to his powerful shoulders and chest as he regarded me steadily. A mage with the strength and senses of a shifter, I thought as I pressed myself into the cushions on the opposite end of the couch to give myself the illusion of space between us. He was more of an anomaly than I was.
The realization smoothed some of the nerves that had gathered tightly in my chest, and I loosened a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“How is it that you were able to heal the dog?” I asked as he took another sip of brandy. “You said that you’ve learned at least as much as a ‘normal mage apprentice,’ but I’m not a simpleton. That was an advanced healing technique, and you’ve clearly had plenty of practice with it.”
“It was part of my training, a long time ago,” he said. “More recently, I had occasion to stay with one of my best friends, who specializes in healing magic.” For a moment, I could have sworn that pain flashed in his eyes. “I used the opportunity to learn as much about it from him as I could.”
I swallowed—his expression hadn’t shifted, but I could sense that his mood had taken a darker turn. “Your best friend is a mage?” I echoed. “Does he know you’ve gone and moved to a tiny human town in the middle of nowhere?”
“I’d prefer not to discuss my friends, or lack thereof, at this very moment,” Fenris said lightly. He drained his glass, then set it down on the table. “As much as I enjoy your company, I’m afraid I must be on my way. The Dolans will be expecting their tractor back, and I need to see to the horses on my farm.”
“Right.” My cheeks heated as we stood—of course he wasn’t going to sit here for hours and let me grill him about magic. Why would he? He certainly had no obligation to satisfy my curiosity. In fact, he’d already shown me much more than he had likely been planning to reveal.
But even so, there was a tightness in my chest as I walked him to the door and handed him his coat from the rack. I didn’t want him to leave, not when I had so many questions about magic. There had never been anyone around to talk about it with, not since I’d run away. Nobody that would be able to give me the answers I sought, or who I could trust to keep my secret—
“I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier,” Fenris said softly, pulling me from my thoughts. “I do not blame you for your curiosity, Mina, and believe me when I say I have questions, too. It is nothing short of remarkable that you have managed to survive so long on your own.”
My cheeks warmed again, this time with pleasure instead of embarrassment. “Thank you for your help,” I said, daring to reach out and brush a few droplets of water that had clung to the front of his coat. “I could not have saved the dog without you.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “Neither could I,” he said softly, then disappeared out into the waiting night.
It took me a very, very long time to fall asleep that night.
12
Fenris
As I trotted home in the rain on my gelding, Marris’s steamtruck safely returned, a restless anxiety churned in my chest. It was almost as bad as when Garrett Toring had unexpectedly turned up at Solantha Palace all those months ago, coming so close to my secret I was forced to stage my own death. A line of sweat was working its way slowly down my spine, and it was all I could do not to urge the horse beneath me into a gallop.
But that would be a foolish thing to do on these muddy roads. Besides, there was nothing to run from. Mina would not betray my secret. Not when I knew hers. It seemed we had more in common than I’d realized—two magic-users in hiding, though I had no idea why Mina was skulking out here in this smudge of a town when she could be thriving under the skilled tutelage of a trained mage.
The power I’d felt when she’d given me access to her magic had been formidable, and had filled me with a heady buzz I had not experienced in a long time. Not since I’d been Polar ar’Tollis and had full access to my own powers. The magic in my veins was a fraction of what I’d wielded as Chief Mage, which was why I’d borrowed some of Mina’s to perform the healing. I probably could have managed it myself, but there was no point in depleting my resources when Mina was a full, eager well of magic next to me.
Imagine what you might be able to do if she was willing to let you borrow her magic again.
No. I stamped that thought out before it could fully take root in my treacherous mind. I would not start doing magical experiments out here, not in this small town full of busybodies. That would be the opposite of keeping a low profile. I had not brought any of my magical texts out here for this exact reason. The closest magical library would be near the Watawis Mages Guild in Willowdale, the state capital, several hours away. Visiting it was out of the question. It would only be available to registered mages and likely could not compare to what I had been used to in Canalo or Nebara.
The gates of my new home finally came into view, and my shoulders relaxed. The storm was finally beginning to dissipate, and a sliver of moonlight escaped from the clouds, illuminating the rooftop of the ranch house I was still getting used to living in. It was a far cry from Solantha Palace, but I was no stranger to living out in the wilderness—hunting had been a favorite pastime when I’d been a mage, and I’d often gone on wilderness retreats either by myself or with other mages.
Good night for hunting, the primal, wolfish part of me rumbled in the back of my mind as I guided the gelding toward the stables at the rear of the house. Indeed, I caught the faint scent of deer on the damp wind, within a ten-mile radius of my property. If I wanted, I could have venison for the next week. My fangs elongated at the thought of ripping into fresh deer meat, and I had to rein in my instincts as my horse let out a nervous snort and began prancing sideways.
“There now,” I said, patting the side of his neck. I sent a bit of calming magic into him, and the horse relaxed. My shifter instincts were getting harder to manage since I’d moved out into the country. It had been one thing to live as a shifter in Iannis’s home, where there was no one to challenge my territorial instincts and no scents and sounds of the wilderness to coax my animal half to the forefront.
Indeed, it had been easy enough to master those animalistic urges, to the point I’d spent most of my time in wolf form, acting as Iannis’s truth detector. The mages who came to see him routinely underestimated shifters and their ability to use their senses to detect a lie. Since it would be rude for a Chief Mage to use a truth wand every time he had a discussion with someone important, my presence had been the next best thing. Especially since we could communicate silently, in mindspeak, unbeknownst to the people he was officially talking to.
Things had changed when Sunaya came to live with us, I reflected as I removed the gelding’s tack. Her presence had stirred my wolf, and had he been interested in her, perhaps I would have ended up as her mate instead of Iannis. But I’d scented the attraction between the two of them immediately, and from the start, my feelings toward her had been more along the lines of an older brother or uncle. Helping Sunaya and Iannis navigate the tumultuous waters that eventually brought them together had been the most fun I’d had in ages.
And now they are together, I thought as I rubbed down the gelding. Happily engaged, accepted by most of society despite Sunaya’s hybrid status, and…
I felt a pang of regret. For once, I did not immediately shake it off. I should be standing at Iannis’s side for their wedding, sharing in the joyous day when the two of them finally, against
all odds, became one. Instead, I was stuck out here, without so much as a single magical text to while away the endless evenings, worrying about how my friends fared but unable to risk any contact. Iannis and Sunaya would have their hands full rebuilding Solantha after that devastating quake had destroyed so much of their beloved city…but even so, I knew they would be thinking of me occasionally, wondering what had become of me.
Did they know I’d made it out alive, or did they presume I was dead? Hidden among the memories I had given Sunaya as a parting gift were clues that might lead them to suspect I had survived, but they could hardly be certain. I felt guilty about causing them to grieve unnecessarily, but it was for the best. Besides, they were too smart not to eventually figure out I was alive.
I’ll send them a letter at some point, I decided as I finished brushing my gelding. I could not let them grieve longer than necessary. I’d done that to my parents when I’d fled Nebara four years ago. The circumstances were so damning that I could not give them any kind of explanation. They likely thought I was dead, too, and I could not console them without risking myself. But there was no reason to put Sunaya and Iannis through the same pain, not when they already knew my dangerous secrets.
After giving the gelding one last pat, I poured oats for both my horses, then returned to the house, still deep in thought. Was it any wonder I’d given in to temptation and used magic tonight, when I was still so utterly homesick? A wiser man, one more in control of his emotions, would have let the dog die tonight. She was old, and it had been her time to go. In the natural order of things, she would not live more than another year at most.
But Marris and his family had looked so stricken, and the sight of Mina crouching there on the ground, struggling to save the poor animal with the pitiful scraps of magic she knew, had been more than I could bear. I could not resist taking her hand and joining our magic to save the dog.
