by Jasmine Walt
“What is the matter?” I asked, alarmed at her posture and grimace of pain.
“My stomach,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut as she clutched at her abdomen. “It hurts!”
My own stomach dropped into my shoes as horror filled me. How had this happened? The waiter immediately rushed over. “Miss, are you all right? Do I need to call a doctor?”
I snatched up the bowl of soup Mina had been enjoying and sniffed at it. The rich liquid had masked it, but this close, I could smell a faint acrid odor wafting from the soup that I recognized from my alchemy days.
“Croialis,” I snapped, shooting to my feet. The colorless tincture was not susceptible to magical healing, nor would my protection spell do any good once Mina had ingested it. “She’s been poisoned.”
“What?” The waiter’s face turned nearly as white as Mina’s, and he staggered back. “How is that possible?”
“No time,” I said, gathering Mina into my arms. Her eyes were still closed, and my heart clenched at the tiny moans of pain she was making. Small beads of sweat gathered on her sun-kissed brow. “Is there somewhere she can lie down?”
Shaken, the waiter led me to the office of the restaurant manager, who looked inclined to protest until he saw the state Mina was in. “I’ll call for an ambulance,” he said, sounding very concerned as he snatched up the phone.
I let him do it even though I knew a local doctor would be highly unlikely to be familiar with this rare poison. Even I had not come across it in over a century, and was racking my brains—was there an antidote?
“Shh,” I murmured to Mina as I gently laid her down on the couch. She was trembling from head to foot, burning up with fever.
“You need to go and find out who has been messing around in your kitchen,” I growled at the manager, who was standing uselessly behind me, wringing his hands. “Someone poisoned Miss Marton through your chowder. They must not be allowed to get away with this. The enforcers need to be called.”
“The chowder?” The manager’s eyes went wide. “That’s ridiculous. Nobody touches the food but my chefs!”
“Then you had better go and talk to your chefs right away, before I take matters into my own hands.”
I leveled a ferocious glare at the manager, who gulped and rushed out of the room, presumably to do as I’d commanded. Turning back to Mina, I used a spell to cool her down, thinking hard about what to do next. Croialis was a rare and extremely dangerous alkaloid derived from the seed of a tropical plant. It killed within eight hours due to liver and kidney failure. Because it could not be cured by magic, it had been used to assassinate a number of historic personages. But I remembered from my studies of history that one or two had survived the attempt—so there had to be an antidote. I had to believe that, or I would lose my mind.
If Mina did not get the antidote soon, there would be irreversible damage. If she did not get it within the eight-hour period, she would die.
If only I had access to the Solantha library with its vast collection of medical texts… my thoughts trailed off as my gaze landed on the manager’s phone. Jumping up, I rushed over to the desk and snatched the phone off its cradle, then called long distance to Solantha Palace.
I dialed Iannis’s office phone directly, but no one picked up, so I tried Dira, the Mages Guild receptionist, instead.
“This is Fenris.”
“Fenris?” She sounded astonished. “You…you aren’t dead?”
“No,” I growled. “Dira, I don’t have time to chat or give explanations. Please connect me to the Chief Mage, whatever he may be doing. It is a matter of life and death that I talk to him right away.”
“He’s in the palace,” she said, “but I am not sure exactly where. Please wait.”
As the minutes ticked by, a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Was Dira really contacting Iannis, or was she alerting someone else, perhaps Director Toring? Was this phone call a giant mistake?
It’s worth the risk. Whatever I have to do to save Mina’s life…it’s worth it.
“Fenris?” Iannis exclaimed on the other line at last. “Is it really you?”
“Yes!” Relief flooded me at the sound of my old friend’s voice. “Thank Resinah I was able to reach you.”
“Why in Recca haven’t you called before now?” Iannis demanded. “Sunaya and I eventually figured out you were alive, but that was months ago, and—”
“I’m sorry, Iannis, but there’s no time,” I interrupted. “The woman I love is dying on the sofa behind me, and I need your help. Do you know an antidote for Croialis?”
I described the symptoms Mina was experiencing, along with the scent I’d identified when sniffing Mina’s soup. “That certainly sounds like Croialis,” he said, all business now. “I believe I know the antidote by heart, but since we cannot afford a mistake, let me run up to the library and double-check.”
Iannis put me on hold for a few more minutes, then came back on the line. “You need four grams of powdered nimroot, six glowblossom petals, and two redcap mushrooms,” Iannis recited. He reeled off exact instructions for how to mix the ingredients, and I scribbled them down using a pen and notepad lying on the desk. “You should be able to find these ingredients in any large apothecary.”
“Thank you,” I said fervently. “I promise I will call again when this is all over, and we’ll catch up.”
“You had better,” Iannis warned. “Sunaya will have my hide when she finds out that you called and I didn’t fetch her immediately. You’re invited to the wedding, by the way, and we look forward to meeting your lady, once she pulls through this.”
“She should, thanks to you.”
I bid Iannis goodbye just as the door opened and the manager came in, a bucket of wet cloths in his hand.
“Have you found anything out from the kitchens?” I asked, taking the bucket so I could press one of the cloths to Mina’s steaming forehead.
“A stranger came by to congratulate my chef on the sea bass,” the manager said tightly, his eyes glimmering with anger. “My chef said it would have been easy for the man to slip a few drops of poison into the soup—your young lady’s tray was sitting right there, ready to be served. The authorities have been notified, and they are searching for the fellow now.”
“Did the chef give a description of the man?”
“Tall, gray hair, lanky, wearing a suit.”
I gritted my teeth. That could describe any number of people, and if it was a mage, it was likely they were in disguise anyway. “Thank you,” I said, scooping Mina into my arms. “I’ll take it from here.”
“The ambulance hasn’t gotten here yet!” the manager cried as I raced out of the room. Ignoring him, I sprinted to the front of the hotel and had the valet bring around the steamcar I’d rented. Hurriedly, I stuffed Mina into the front seat and buckled her in, then drove like a fiend into Haralis. I’d seen an apothecary in the mages quarter only a few blocks from our previous hotel, and I fervently hoped it stocked the items I needed.
It only took fifteen minutes to get to the apothecary—a quaint gray building with diamond-paned windows—but by the time we reached it, Mina’s fever was back. She tossed and turned in the seat, moaning as sweat dripped down her skin and soaked through her dress.
I stopped the car in front of the apothecary, ignoring a street sign that prohibited parking. “Hang on,” I murmured, brushing a kiss against her scalding forehead. “You’ll be back to health in no time.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, her eyelashes fluttering. I wasn’t even sure she’d understood me.
I quickly put a strong protection ward on the car. With Mina inside, the last thing I needed was some thief or traffic warden absconding with her while I got the medicine. Satisfied that the ward would hold, I rushed inside, elbowing several customers out of the way.
“I need you to mix an antidote for Croialis,” I said, slapping the recipe down on the counter. “Immediately.”
The alchemist raised her eyebrows
behind her silver-rimmed glasses and looked down her nose at me. “You’ll have to wait your turn like everyone else,” she said, gesturing to the five people lined up, several of whom were glaring daggers at me.
I bared my teeth at her. “A woman is dying in the car right outside here,” I said in a heated voice. “Do you wish to have her death on your conscience?”
The alchemist’s cheeks turned bright pink, and she recoiled in alarm. “You didn’t tell me she was right outside—”
“What part of immediately did you not understand?” I snapped. “If she dies because of your delay or any mistake in preparing the mixture, I shall hold you accountable!”
Stiff-backed and muttering indignantly under her breath, the alchemist turned on her heel and stalked into the back of the shop, hopefully to gather ingredients. Several of the customers were edging away, toward the exit. None of them dared object to my highhandedness.
Gripping the edge of the counter, I forced myself to take several deep breaths. It was unusual for me to lash out in this way, but the thought of Mina suffering in the car for any longer than necessary simply because this woman was a stickler for the rules… I was glad I was wearing my mage disguise, or I would likely be gouging my claws into the counter at this very moment.
Fifteen minutes later, the woman marched back with a green glass bottle clutched in her bony fist. “That will be five gold coins,” she said icily, handing it over.
I paid the exorbitant amount of money and snatched the bottle from the counter. “This had better be the best antidote you’ve ever made, or I will be back.”
Not waiting for her response, I ran back out to the car to administer the cure. “Here,” I said gently, coaxing Mina’s mouth open. “Drink this. It will help you feel better.”
Mina groaned, half delirious, but she did her best to swallow as I poured some of the antidote down her throat. She mumbled something that sounded very much like “tastes like cattle piss,” but thankfully she didn’t spit it out.
Over the next ten minutes, I gradually got her to drink more of the antidote, until half the liquid was gone. The alchemist had given me enough for two doses, so I corked the bottle and sat back with a sigh. Mina’s fever had subsided, and she was sleeping peacefully in her seat, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. There was no sign of the tremors she’d been experiencing earlier.
Thank the Lady. I sagged in my seat as a wave of relief washed over me. And Iannis. I would have to thank him profusely the next time we spoke. Shaken by the ordeal, I gave myself a few minutes to recover, then drove back to the beachside hotel. The same valet who had helped me out was waiting for me. When I got out of the car, he anxiously asked if Mina was okay and if we needed anything. The staff seemed greatly relieved that Mina was better. Everyone was rattled by the experience—they had never seen anything like this happen before. The manager promised us free meals in the restaurant to make up for the ordeal.
I’ll be sniffing every meal Mina eats until we’ve left Haralis, I told myself as I carefully laid Mina down onto my bed. Exhausted, I curled atop the comforter with her, spooning her from behind. Her lavender-and-sunshine scent calmed me instantly, and I closed my eyes and slipped into a much-needed nap.
I awoke a couple of hours later, my stomach growling, but I checked on Mina first. She was still fast asleep, breathing deeply. I watched her for a minute or two in the dim light, then, reassured she was recovering well, placed a strong ward on the room and left to make a quick phone call.
On my way to the lobby, I passed by the restaurant, and the scent of roasting meat nearly made me detour. But I didn’t want to keep Mina waiting for long, and I could always order room service later.
To my relief, the lobby telephone had its own booth, providing me privacy and ensuring the front desk staff would not overhear. Sitting down on the small stool, I dialed Iannis’s private number, then waited.
“Fenris!” Iannis exclaimed as he answered the phone so quickly I suspected he’d been waiting for it to ring. “Is everything all right? Did the antidote work?”
“By Magorah, it’s really him,” Sunaya exclaimed in the background, and I nearly laughed. “Damn you, Fenris, for worrying us like this! Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, and yes, the antidote worked,” I told them, knowing Sunaya could hear me perfectly well. “I owe you a great debt, Iannis—Mina would have died today if not for you. I’m sorry I cut you off earlier, but time was of the essence.”
“I understand completely,” Iannis assured me. “You owe me no debt, Fenris—you have helped me more times than I can count. I am only glad that you and your lady love are safe.”
“Speaking of lady loves,” Sunaya said, and she must have grabbed the phone for her voice came through loud and clear, “you’ve got to bring her to our wedding, Fenris. I don’t care what we have to do to make it happen—I want you to be there. I miss you.”
The emotion in her voice triggered an answering longing in me, and I tightened my grip on the phone. “I miss you both, too, but I don’t want to put you in any danger—”
“You won’t be,” Sunaya insisted, “and I don’t want to hear any excuses. Give me your address so I can send you a formal invitation under whatever alias you’re using.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll get one from you in person, if I decide to go,” I said, though I very much doubted I would. The risk was far too great, and I was unwilling to expose Mina to any danger. Returning to Solantha, even in disguise, while the entire Convention was milling around the place, seemed like a spectacularly bad idea. “If I end up unable to make it, you know that my thoughts and wishes are with you both.”
“What happened with the poison?” Iannis asked, wresting the phone from Sunaya. “Have you found out who is responsible? Croialis is not something that one could take by accident.”
“We have suspicions, but no proof yet,” I told him. “A large fortune is at stake, and greed is likely the motive.”
“I know you can’t tell us exactly where you are,” Sunaya said from the background, “but are you in any immediate danger?”
“No,” I assured her. “Mina is the target, not me. I will be taking extra precautions to ensure her safety, and we will be leaving here as soon as we’ve finished our business. I’ll let you know where I settle permanently when it’s safe to do so.”
“Fine,” she said, “but please, promise to stay in touch. I don’t think we could handle it if you did another disappearing act.”
I smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
When I finally hung up the phone, I felt more at peace than I had in months. Hearing Iannis and Sunaya on the phone had soothed the ache of homesickness inside me, and I was glad that they were not very angry with me for misleading them. No matter how great the distance, or how long we were out of contact, our friendship had remained solid.
Satisfied, I headed back to the room to order food and keep my vigil with Mina.
“Fenris?”
Mina’s groggy voice woke me from my nap at her side, and I opened my eyes to see the sunset filtering in through the blinds.
“Are you all right?” I asked, sitting up so I could turn her onto her back. Mina’s eyelids were heavy with sleep, and there was a look of confusion on her face. But there was healthy color in her cheeks, and no sign of pain or distress.
“I…I think so.” She blinked a few times to clear her vision. “What happened?”
“Someone poisoned your soup,” I said, brushing a lock of golden hair off her face. Touching Mina was soothing—it reminded me that she was still alive, still with me. Wanting more of that touch, I gathered her in my arms and pressed my lips against her forehead. “It was Croialis, a rare poison made of a tropical seed that kills within hours. Thank the Lady I recognized the smell and was able to get you the antidote in time. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”
“Thank you for saving me.” Mina’s hand gently stroked down my back, and it occ
urred to me that it was a little absurd that she was the one comforting me. But I needed it, I silently admitted as I held her tightly. The thought of her lying dead and cold on the ground, robbed of the centuries of life she had yet to look forward to… I couldn’t bear the idea. I would do anything to make sure she was safe.
Anything.
“Fenris…” Mina trailed off, her voice hesitant.
I pulled back a little to scan her expression. “What is it?”
She searched my face, her fingers feathering across my bearded jaw. “It’s just…you thanked the Lady, Resinah, instead of Magorah, the way other shifters do. And you know so many things about magic, poisons, politics, and law…. Don’t you trust me enough by now to explain why you are so different from other shifters? So unique?”
I sighed, figuring now was as good a time as any to tell her the truth, so I conjured the privacy bubble. I might confide my dangerous secrets to Mina, but hardly to the hotel staff. “It’s not that I did not trust you, Mina, but sharing my secrets could be dangerous to you.”
“I don’t care. Ignorance is worse than danger, Fenris. I’m not a child who needs to be shielded from the truth.” She regarded me steadily out of those pretty silver-gray eyes. I supposed I would have felt the same in her position.
“Very well, then.” I took a deep breath, a little nervous how she would react to my revelations. “My original given name was Polar ar’Tollis,” I told her. “I was born into a mage family, just like you, and completed my apprenticeship long ago. I was Chief Mage of Nebara, once upon a time.” It was only four years ago, but it seemed another lifetime. Was another lifetime, as I was a different man now.
“A Chief Mage?” Mina stared at me, wide-eyed. “How is that possible? There has never been a shifter chief mage, or even I would have heard.”
I chuckled at that idea. “Of course not. I was a full-blooded mage at the time, with a quite different face. As Lord Polar, I led a life similar to that of any other chief mages, creating gold, administering my state, and so on.”
Mina’s brow furrowed, as if she was chasing an elusive memory. “That name, Lord Polar. It sounds familiar somehow, but I’m not sure why.”
