by Jasmine Walt
I laughed a little. “I forget that you have been so isolated from mage politics and gossip,” I said. “I saved the life of a human girl who was to be executed. For that transgression, I was convicted of high treason. I was forced to flee Nebara or be executed myself. There was a Federation-wide manhunt. Actually, there still is, though it has mostly died down.”
Mina shook her head, her eyes wide. “Why was the girl going to be executed?”
“She was a wild talent and had a run-in with a mage official.” I did not mention that when I first realized Mina had magic, I had been afraid she might be in similar danger. Thankfully, her parentage protected her from that at least.
“I want to know it all,” Mina said, scooting closer to me. She cupped my cheek, searching my face with those gentle eyes. “Tell me the story of how a mage became a shifter.”
I took a deep breath, then told her the story of Polar ar’Tollis, and how he had come to be Fenris, the man she knew today.
How I’d buried myself in my duties and scholarly pursuits, devoting my spare time into studying all forms of magic, its history, and its development.
How I’d never once looked outside my ivory tower at the conditions humans and mages dealt with, until I was suddenly staring at the execution order of a little girl waiting for my seal and signature.
How, faced with death, I had allowed a good friend to experiment on me with an ancient and highly illegal transformation spell, fully expecting to die.
Except I hadn’t died. And when I’d awoken in my new form as a wolf shifter, I’d discovered I still retained some of my magic, though much less than before.
“No wonder you are such an odd shifter,” Mina said when I was finished. “You are really a mage underneath! Wow, if Marris or Barrla had any idea ….” She stared at me as though she were seeing me for the first time. “What was it like to be suddenly a shifter, after all that time as a mage? It must have been very disorienting.”
“You could say that,” I agreed. “I had no idea that the wolf who joined me in body and mind would produce such a drastic change in me. Not only my body and senses, but also my feelings and priorities have changed. Overall, for the better. At first, I had a tough time coming to terms with what I had become, since I shared the usual mage disdain for lesser races. But I have made my peace with it. In fact, I rather prefer Fenris to the man I used to be.”
“But you still have so many of Polar’s traits—his love for books and reading, his knowledge of the law, of politics, and so on.” Mina grinned. “Apart from the loss of magical strength, I would say you got the best of both worlds.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed. “My decades of study are the reason I know so many spells, but my reduced magical strength is why I need your help to use some of them. You have significantly more power than me, though not quite as much as I used to wield before my transformation.” I did not bother to mention that my powers seemed to be slowly recovering, perhaps through frequent use.
“What a strange story,” Mina murmured. “But it explains so much.”
She traced the bones of my face with her fingertips, and I dropped the illusion so she could see me as I really was—as I always would be. I could wear various disguises, but never again would I be Polar ar’Tollis, the foolish Chief Mage who’d kept his head buried in the sand until it was too late. My eyes were wide open now, and perhaps they saw too much at times.
But right now, I was looking at exactly what I wanted to see.
“Do you understand now why I was so hesitant about getting involved with you?” I asked. “I will forever be a wanted man, Mina. There is no real future for me.”
“I doubt that very much,” Mina said wryly. “You are a brilliant man, Fenris, and you’ve still got many years of life ahead of you, as do I. How old are you, anyway?”
“One hundred and seventy-six.”
Mina’s eyes flew wide in mock-surprise. “Over one-seventy! You really are an old man.” She pretended to push me away, then giggled when I growled and pulled her back against me. “You certainly don’t have the stamina of an old man,” she teased as I nuzzled her neck.
“True, and thank the Lady for that.”
I kissed her, and we spent several minutes touching and stroking and tasting each other. But Mina was still drained from her near-death experience, so I buried my lust and tucked her in against my chest so we could drift off to sleep again.
There would be plenty of time for lovemaking and celebration once we got through the hearing tomorrow.
20
Mina
The next morning, Fenris and I rose bright and early to get ready for our hearing with the Chief Mage. I was grateful to feel mostly normal after a deep sleep—the near-fatal poisoning had shown me how uncertain even a mage’s long life could be.
Feeling refreshed, I dressed in one of the elegant new outfits I’d bought the day I’d run into Troina—a robin’s egg blue gown with bell sleeves and a skirt that flared out at the waist. I dressed my hair with opal clips I’d picked up at a jeweler a few doors down from the dressmaker’s and put on the ivory-colored slippers that matched the shimmering thread shot through the fabric of the skirt.
By the time I’d finished dressing, I felt as if I were going to war.
“All ready?” Fenris asked as he met me in the hall. He was back in his old-mage guise, and his eyes gleamed with admiration as he looked me up and down. “You look perfect.”
“Thank you.” I tried for a smile, but my stomach was a bundle of nerves. Fenris seemed to understand, because he didn’t press me to eat breakfast—he simply ordered a glass of freshly pressed orange juice for me, which he carefully sniffed before he let me drink. Soon enough, we were in the steamcar and headed into the city.
“You’ll be fine,” Fenris assured me as we pulled up to Haralis Palace. My stomach was dancing a frenetic tune, and I felt as if it were going to jump out of my throat. “Gelisia will do her worst, but she cannot break you. She is not all-powerful, and you have the truth on your side.”
Nodding, I swallowed hard, then gathered my composure as we stepped from the cab. Holding my head high, I glided up the steps like royalty, then announced to the receptionist that I was there for my hearing with the Chief Mage. Fenris and I were escorted back, not to the waiting room where we’d been before but to the formal audience chamber.
The audience chamber was a cavernous hall with vaulted ceilings and ornate tapestries decorated with glittering gold runes. A carpet ran the length of the burnished gold floor, and at the end, on a raised platform, sat a throne-like chair. On either side of it were two smaller chairs, and below the platform sat a desk, where a typewriter would be used to transcribe the hearing. The room was entirely empty, and Fenris and I took up spots to the left of the dais to wait.
It wasn’t long before the hall door opened again and my relatives trooped in, along with the family lawyer. Mr. Ransome’s expression was carefully blank, while my uncle and cousin looked faintly smug, almost triumphant. The lawyer greeted me cordially as they passed, though the rest of them said nothing. I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of something like guilt in my aunt’s eyes, but when I met her gaze, she was stone-faced. I turned away, annoyed I’d entertained, for even one moment, the hope that she might feel sympathy for me.
These people were related to me in name only. I felt no kinship with them whatsoever, and once I was through with this hearing, I would never speak to them again.
Finally, a side door opened, and the Chief Mage and Miss Dorax strode into the room along with some underlings, one of whom took a seat at the stenographer’s desk. Everyone stood and bowed as the Chief Mage stepped onto the dais, and I lifted my head as he took the central seat to preside over the hearing.
“Is everyone accounted for?” he asked Miss Dorax, who sat at his right, leaving the left chair empty.
Miss Dorax’s dark eyes swept the room. “It would appear so,” she said in that smoky voice of hers. “Are you ready to begin, m
y lord?”
“Yes. Please present your report.”
I held my breath as Gelisia pulled a sheaf of papers from the sleeve of her robe—most mages kept a magical pocket there that could store an almost infinite number of items. “In the interest of brevity, let me go straight to the summary. I have interviewed both parties and several witnesses. Based on all pertinent evidence, my conclusion is that the young lady presenting herself as Tamina Marton has failed to present convincing proof of her identity.”
Heat began to rise to my cheeks as she smiled faintly, and I had to force my anger back. “She does bear a remarkable resemblance to the late Miss Marton that has managed to fool some of the real Tamina’s former friends. However, they have not seen her since she was a mere child, so little weight can be given to their impressions. To an unbiased observer, it is evident the real Tamina Marton perished in the sea at age fifteen, as the investigation at the time concluded. I see no reason why its result should now be overturned. This imposter before us should be punished for trying to steal another family’s fortune by her bold imposture and fined the entire cost of the proceedings.”
The smug looks on Uncle Bobb and Vanley’s faces grew into smirks. This time, I allowed my hands to clench into fists. “Well?” the Chief Mage asked them, looking faintly bored. I realized he must have already read the written report and had anticipated what Gelisia was going to announce. This was all just a formality.
“We fully concur with Miss Dorax’s findings,” my uncle said. “While this imposter does bear some resemblance to our dear Tamina, she has nothing of her character. This woman’s claims are an insult to my niece’s memory.”
That guilty look crossed my aunt’s face again, but she did nothing to contradict my uncle. I felt another flash of searing anger.
“May I please speak, Lord Zaran?” I asked, forcing myself to remain calm.
He gave me a long look. “Yes,” he finally said, and I stepped forward.
“The conclusion presented by your financial secretary is ludicrous. Her interview of me took place in a restaurant, and she barely seemed interested in the evidence I tried to offer.” I turned and gave my relatives a scathing look. “Two of these people might be my relatives by blood, but they are not my family,” I said with feeling. “I did not go out swimming that night, nor did I drown. The only witness to that is Vanley, who has every reason to lie about it. He cornered me in the hall when I left my room to get a glass of milk from the kitchen and was threatening to rape me.” My voice trembled a little, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my aunt’s face pale. “I lashed out with my magic to send him tumbling down the stairs, then ran away from the house in desperation, because my aunt and uncle had refused to protect me from months of harassment and violence at Vanley’s hands. Given that record, the Cantorin family does not deserve a single copper of the Marton fortune. My parents and grandmother would turn over in their graves at such blatant injustice.”
“That’s preposterous,” my uncle sneered. “My son would never have laid a hand on Tamina. He was a pious boy, too focused on his studies to bother with girls. I refuse to listen to such baseless accusations.”
“Lord Zaran,” Fenris said calmly before the Chief Mage could respond. “While I cannot speak to what happened here in Haralis thirteen years ago, I witnessed Miss Dorax meeting with the Cantorin family and soliciting a bribe in exchange for framing Miss Marton as an imposter. You may not be aware of it, but your financial secretary has a history of unethical behavior.”
Gelisia’s face turned white with fury, and the Chief Mage’s eyes widened with incredulous anger. “You dare slander a member of my office?” he asked, and the air around him crackled with power. “Without any proof but your unsupported word?”
I flinched at the force of the Chief Mage’s ire—I couldn’t help it—but Fenris stood his ground, appearing unruffled by the outburst. “All of this could easily be cleared up with a truth wand. I believe that in most states of the Federation, it is customary to consult one in such contentious cases. The process is simple and painless—why not send for a wand to double-check everyone’s claims rather than relying blindly on subordinates?”
Fenris then proceeded to cite several historic cases where a truth wand uncovered who had really been lying or revealed that key officials were covering up certain details to sway the outcome of cases one way or another. The Chief Mage listened quietly, but even so, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled by the suggestion of questioning everyone with a wand—no doubt he was displeased that Fenris was calling the integrity of his office into question. Still, that he listened at all gave me a tiny sliver of hope.
“That is all well and good, but it is not customary to engage a truth wand here in Innarta,” Gelisia snapped the moment Fenris stopped talking. “We will not be using one for this case.”
“Miss Dorax,” the Chief Mage said sharply. “I believe that is my call to make, not yours.”
Gelisia’s cheeks flushed, and she bowed. “Of course, my lord.”
The Chief Mage was silent for a long moment, and I could tell he was fighting an internal battle. Part of him did not want to use the truth wand because that would admit to a weakness in his office and error in his conclusions. But the other part of him, his pride, could not bear one of his subordinates dictating how this hearing would be conducted. In her arrogance, Gelisia had overreached.
“Very well,” he finally said. “Send for the truth wand.”
One of the underlings bowed before rushing from the room. A nervous silence descended upon the hall, and everyone except Fenris and the Chief Mage looked uncomfortable. Even Miss Dorax seemed distressed, her pouty lips pressed in a thin line. I felt a smug satisfaction as I looked at her. I didn’t have anything to fear from the truth wand—all I needed to do was repeat what I’d said earlier.
The side door creaked open a few minutes later, and the underling came back in, along with an elderly librarian who carried a rectangular lacquered case. He presented the case to the Chief Mage, who opened it and removed a slender wand carved from beech. It shimmered faintly in the light, and I glimpsed the intricate runes carved into it that swirled around the length of polished wood.
“Tamina Marton,” the Chief Mage said gravely, “please step forward.”
I did, standing very still as the Chief Mage waved his wand. A shower of sparks descended onto me, and my skin glowed faintly blue. “Answer my questions truthfully, and nothing will change,” he said. “Lie, and the light around you will turn red, exposing your falsehood.”
I nodded, proceeding to answer the Chief Mage’s questions, repeating everything I’d said earlier, starting with my name and parentage. He prodded me for more information at certain points, asking me how long the abuse had occurred, whether I’d sought help, and so on. I worried he might force me to reveal where I’d been, or Fenris’s true identity, but to my relief, his questions never veered in that direction.
“The wand has verified that everything Miss Marton states is true, and that she is who she says she is,” the Chief Mage said sternly. He turned his gaze to my relatives. “Is there anything about her statement you’d like to refute?”
I turned to look at my aunt and uncle, who shook their heads. Uncle Bobb and Vanley looked murderous, and they glared daggers at me, but my aunt seemed almost relieved. I felt a little more warmly to her. Yes, she’d been too cowardly to stand up for me, but for all I knew, my uncle was just as much of an abuser as Vanley had been.
“Very well. Miss Dorax, step up.”
“My lord…” Gelisia began in a conciliatory tone, but trailed off at the frozen look on the Chief Mage’s face. He already knew she’d lied—there was no convincing him of her innocence. Now it only remained for him to uncover the depth of her corruption.
The Chief Mage waved the wand, showering her with sparks as he’d done with me. “Is it true, Miss Dorax, that you met with the Cantorin family this past week with the intention of soliciting a bribe from them?”<
br />
“I—” Gelisia began, then clammed up as the glow around her turned a dark, ugly red. “Yes,” she hissed through her teeth, fisting her hands at her sides.
“I see,” the Chief Mage said coldly. “And did you, in fact, solicit a bribe from Mr. Cantorin in exchange for slanting the investigation in his favor?”
“I solicited contributions to the Dorax Fund,” Gelisia answered, her tone equally cold. “A non-profit organization set up to help indigent students.”
“Do not treat me like a fool, Miss Dorax,” the Chief Mage said, his eyes flat. “I know very well how both mages and humans alike use ‘non-profits’ to funnel gold through, and I suspect a forensic accountant will reveal that your charity is not above board.” He shook his head, looking deeply disappointed. “I am ashamed to have allowed this to happen right beneath my nose. You are suspended, Miss Dorax, pending further disciplinary action, and you are ordered not to leave Haralis until further notice.”
Gelisia tried to protest, but the Chief Mage refused to hear another word. She spun on her heel and flounced out of the room in a towering fury. As Fenris and I watched her go, I saw a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes, and I could only imagine how good he must feel to watch Gelisia finally get the comeuppance she deserved. Hopefully she would never hold a government position again.
“Lord Zaran,” Fenris said once the doors had slammed shut behind Gelisia and everything had quieted again. “There have been two attempts on Miss Marton’s life recently—she was nearly run over by a steamcar last week, and yesterday, someone slipped poison into her food. It is obvious that someone has been trying to eliminate her, and in view of the Cantorin family’s lies, I would ask that they be questioned about the issue while you still have the truth wand at hand.”
The Chief Mage nodded, all previous signs of reluctance gone. “Mr. Cantorin, please step up.”
