by Jasmine Walt
“Wow.” I couldn’t help the grin that burst across my face. “This is definitely a step up.” I threw open a pair of double doors, then froze at the sight of all my clothes hanging neatly from the racks of the biggest walk-in closet I’d ever seen. My attire took up perhaps a quarter of the available space, and boxes stacked neatly in the center of the room took maybe another quarter.
“By Magorah,” I whispered. “You… you had my stuff delivered?”
Fenris shrugged. “Iannis suggested that I look into it, actually. Good thing, too, because your landlord was preparing to have you evicted. Two servants brought your things over this morning.” He grinned as he produced a set of keys from his sleeve and tossed them to me. “They even managed to recover your steambike.”
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I flung my arms around Fenris’s neck. “Thank you so much,” I murmured, so ridiculously grateful to have my things. I would be able to wear my own clothes again, and if the servants had brought over everything, even carry a weapon!
Fenris stiffened briefly, but quickly relaxed and patted me on the back. “It’s no trouble at all,” he said. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted with your room.”
I spent the next few hours organizing my things, unpacking all the stuff in my boxes and rearranging my clothes until they were on the racks the way I liked them. I filled the empty bookcase that stood by one of the windows with my books – a combination of martial arts theory, history texts, and novels that were strictly for pleasure reading – and the second one I filled with my smaller weapons, such as knives and throwing stars. The bigger weapons, such as my staff and swords, had to go in the closet.
Finished at last, I took a long, hot bath, dressed myself in a pair of leather pants and a long-sleeved red top, and tucked two knives into my boots. As an afterthought, I grabbed one of my short swords, similar in style to the ones the guards used, and secured it around my waist with a belt and sheath.
Yep, I thought as I gazed at myself in the full-length mirror installed in the walk-in closet. My curly black hair tumbled around my shoulders, and my tanned skin glowed with good health. I was finally starting to feel like my old self again.
“Going somewhere?”
I nearly stumbled as I walked out of the closet – Fenris had popped his head back in.
“Am I not allowed to?” I demanded, folding my arms across my chest. “Surely now that I’m an apprentice I can come and go from the palace?”
Fenris nodded, stepping into the room. “Iannis has allowed you four hours of free time per day in which you may do whatever you wish outside the palace walls, in addition to any time you may be sent out to run errands.”
I clenched my jaw at that. “So I’m still a prisoner?”
Fenris sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Can’t you at least take this one as a win, Sunaya? The Chief Mage doesn’t want you putting yourself at risk until you are properly trained.”
I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” I told him. “But I guess I’ll accept the terms. Still, it would be nice if I could get my lost weapons back. Not to mention my Enforcer bracelet.” I tapped my naked wrist.
Fenris winced. “Yes, about that –”
Dread turned my stomach to lead. “They’re gone?”
Fenris nodded. “Iannis asked me to track them down, but the Enforcer’s Guild doesn’t have them.”
My nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fists. “Brin and Nila. Those bastards.”
“We’re still looking for them,” Fenris insisted. “With enough time, we might –”
“Stop.” I held up a hand, my heart aching. Those weapons had been among my most prized possessions. “You can at least get my Enforcer’s bracelet back, can’t you?” I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of losing that, too. It would mean the end of my livelihood, especially if I ended up not making it as a mage.
Fenris nodded. “That should be possible. If we can’t get the original back, we can order the Enforcer’s Guild to issue you a new one.”
I sighed as a modicum of relief trickled through me, then changed the subject. “Did you find anything out last night with that lie detector wand thingy the Chief Mage gave you?”
Fenris scowled. “Unfortunately not,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of the kitchen staff appeared to know anything, and the wand didn’t twitch at all when I questioned them, so they weren’t lying. It could have been one of the mages at the party, or theoretically one of the servants of the dignitaries who are staying here as guests. It’s tough to narrow down.”
“That doesn’t sound very reassuring.” I pursed my lips, wondering how effective that wand really was. Why did Fenris rely on it? Surely his nose was good enough.
“It’s not. I’m going to do some further investigation into it.” He pulled a book from his sleeve and handed it to me. “This is a basic primer on magic, one of the few not written in Loranian. Iannis found it last night and asked me to give it to you, so you could practice in your room when he’s not available. I suggest you be very careful and make sure no one is nearby when you are practicing, especially if you are going to perform a new spell. It wouldn’t do at all if you accidentally hurt someone.”
“Thanks.” A spark of delight lit in my chest as I took the book, something that would not have happened a week ago. Strange how my outlook on magic had changed in such a short time, now that it was more accessible to me.
Fenris showed me how to activate the pre-spelled wards set around the perimeter of my room, which I could use to keep anyone from entering while I was performing magic. He then left me to my own devices. I stared at the book for a little while, tempted to start working now, but the outdoors called me more strongly than the spells did. I slid the book onto one of my shelves, between a paperback on Garaian History and a mystery novel.
It was time to go and see how my city had fared without me.
I grabbed a few scones from the kitchen, then hopped on my steambike and headed towards the Port. I was in a ridiculously good mood, and it wasn’t just the fresh air on my face or the sights and sounds of the city that surrounded me as I rode through the streets. The staff and guards had all been fairly pleasant to me as I’d left, addressing me as ‘ma’am’ or ‘miss’, and no longer gave me dirty or suspicious looks. The mages, for their part, hadn’t changed their level of animosity, but only the way they expressed it – instead of sneering at me they scowled, beaming hatred or jealousy my way when they thought my back was turned. They thought their bad vibes would bring me down, but instead they only widened my smile and lifted my spirits. Any day I could wiggle the stick up those stuffy bastards’ asses was a good day in my book.
The bell tinkled as I opened the door to Comenius’s shop, which looked exactly the same as it had the last time I’d walked in here. Of course, that had been less than a week ago, so I shouldn’t have expected anything different, but still, the normality brought me comfort.
“Naya!” Noria dropped the coins she’d been counting back into the register and dashed around the counter as she caught sight of me. I laughed as she flung her arms around me and hugged her back, relieved that she wasn’t mad at me. “I’m so glad you’re here! How did you get out? Did Rylan rescue you after all?”
“No.” I clamped my lips shut on the scolding I wanted to give her for sending Rylan into a trap in the first place – she’d only been trying to help, and in the end the Chief Mage had simply used the situation to his advantage. “I was released.”
“Really?” Comenius popped in from the back of the shop, his stern face all smiles. I embraced him as well, inhaling his comforting sage and thyme scent. “How did you manage that?”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “The Chief Mage made me his apprentice.”
“WHAT?”
For the next ten minutes I was peppered by a barrage of questions, which I answered as best I could. Comenius was stunned, but happy
, while Noria was flat-out confused.
“But I don’t understand,” she whined plaintively when I’d finished explaining to her that I was going to have to live at the palace until I’d finished my apprenticeship. “He’s the enemy, Naya. How could you?”
“Not all mages are the enemy,” Comenius pointed out mildly. “After all, you’re working with a mage at the Academy right now, are you not?”
Noria pouted. “Yeah, but he’s not the Chief Mage.” She worried her lip for a moment. “He’s still working on analyzing that drug. He’s pretty busy between classes and his own projects right now, but I hope he’ll have something for us by next week.”
I nodded, sobering a little as my mind turned back to the murders. “Has there been any other news?”
Comenius shook his head. “No murders since the last one reported by the Courier.”
I ran my tongue along my upper teeth, frustrated. “That’s supposed to be a good thing, but…”
“You feel like you need more leads, and you don’t have anything,” Comenius finished. His frustrated look told me that he commiserated, which made me feel a little better. “I know what you mean, but until we get an answer back regarding the drug, I don’t have anything concrete to go on.”
“You know,” Noria said, her brow puckering thoughtfully. “You could easily take this chance to run off to the Underground and join up with the Resistance, now that you’re free. I don’t see why you’ve got to be beholden to the Chief Mage.”
I scowled. “Noria, I support the Resistance too but I’ve already had a taste of what it’s like to be a captive criminal, and I don’t like it. I’m much happier on the other side of the table where I get to catch the bad guys, and I can’t do that if I’m a wanted fugitive.”
Brackets formed around the edges of Noria’s mouth. “But what if those bad guys aren’t really bad guys, but just people exercising rights that have been unjustly taken away from them? Like you with your magic?” She jabbed her finger into my chest. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’m not sure that being an Enforcer is actually a good idea. All I’d be doing is supporting our corrupt regime. When I’m done with college I’m joining the Resistance.”
I bit back a groan at Noria’s defiant look. This is what I got for trying to convince her not to be an Enforcer – an even worse career decision.
“Have you spoken to Annia about this? Or your mother?”
“ Annia’s still out of town on a mission.” Noria wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t have to talk to her. I’m old enough to decide for myself.”
“Yes, but I’m sure she’d still want to hear about it.” I laid a hand on her shoulder, gentling my voice. “She’s your sister and she loves you, just like we all do.”
Noria looked away. I sighed, then continued. “Besides, my reluctance to become a criminal isn’t the only reason I’m sticking around. I’ve got to solve these murders. Not to mention that having inside access to the palace will allow me to pass on useful information to Rylan.”
“Oh.” Noria perked right up. “Well, I guess that’s okay then.”
“Still, though,” I amended, my frown returning at the thought of Rylan. “I can’t say that I’m too happy about the Resistance’s methods of, well, resisting.”
Comenius raised his brows. “What do you mean?”
I relayed the conversation I’d heard from the two mages back at the banquet about the terrorist attacks, and by the time I was finished both Comenius and Noria were scowling.
“There’s no way that’s true,” Noria insisted, her dark eyes burning.
“At the very least we don’t know the full story,” Comenius declared, ever the conservative. “The mages could have been embellishing their story, or even leaving key things out.”
“Exactly!” Noria planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t trust anything they say.”
“Well, that’s definitely possible.” I paused to consider that, thankful that my thick hair hid the tips of my reddening ears. Was it possible that I was succumbing to the brainwashing effects of the mages’ propaganda? “Still, I can’t completely discount what I heard until I know more.”
“Hmph.” Noria wrinkled her nose. “I think you’ve been doing a little too much listening, and not enough looking.” She returned to her post behind the counter. “I’m going to go do something productive. You should too.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly as Comenius shot me an apologetic look. “I guess you’re right.” It was time to do more looking, that was for sure, and not just on my part. I was going to get the Chief Mage involved with this even if it killed me. It was about time someone other than me did something about this whole mess.
On my way back to Solantha Palace, I stopped by the Shiftertown Cemetery to visit Roanas’s grave. It was located outside the Twenty-First Street Temple, a tall, grey stone building where shifters went to pay their respects to Magorah. I bypassed the temple itself, avoiding the reproachful gazes of the carved animals perched on the corners of the building, and headed to the cemetery in the back.
The cemetery was a wide plot of land that stretched for several acres from the back of the temple. Rows of headstones marked the places where the deceased lay, and I trod lightly over the grass, careful not to step on any flowers or other offerings left for the dead. It didn’t take me long to find Roanas’s grave – it was heaped with offerings from his many Shiftertown admirers, and beneath them lay freshly-turned dirt upon which grass had not yet grown.
I clenched my fist around my own meager offering, a bouquet of dandelions, which I thought a fitting tribute since Roanas had been a lion shifter. I should have been there at the funeral, to say a proper goodbye, to ensure the clerics laid him to rest respectfully and placed a gold coin atop each of his eyelids to pay the Ferryman who would lead him to the afterlife. I should have been there to grieve with his sister, who must have taken a dirigible all the way out from the southwest to see her brother buried. I should have been there to glare holes into my aunt Mafiela and demand that she and the rest of the Council fill Roanas’s shoes with a competent Inspector immediately, one who would pick up where Roanas left off and catch the bastard who was doing all this.
But I hadn’t, because I’d been imprisoned in Solantha Palace due to my own stupidity.
I squeezed my eyelids shut as I dropped to my knees, pressing my forehead to the gravestone. Cool granite rasped against my skin, a stark contrast to the hot tears running down my cheeks. For a long moment I could do nothing except kneel there, my tears dripping on the freshly-tilled earth, a salty offering lost on the body buried six feet beneath. After all, Roanas was no longer in that body to receive them – the tears were more for me, an opportunity to unleash the grief I’d shoved deep into the recesses of my mind since this whole ordeal had started. Tears that I’d not dared show while in the palace, not only because no one would care, but because in enemy territory grief was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Roanas, I thought silently, praying my thoughts would reach him in the afterlife. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you while you were investigating in the first place. Maybe if I had been, I could have helped you solve these murders before the killer caught on to you. Maybe if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own problems, you wouldn’t be dead now.
A soft breeze stirred the hair on the nape of my neck and whispered gently in my ear. There is little point in wishing upon what could have been. Your time is far better spent focusing on what could be, or better yet, what will be.
I chuckled through my tears at the oft-quoted line. I couldn’t say whether or not Roanas had actually spoken to me from beyond the grave, but the words soothed me nonetheless.
“Come to pay your respects?”
My head snapped up at the sound of an unfamiliar male voice. To my right stood a tall man dressed in a long brown leather coat, tight-fitting pants and a pair of boots that looked as though they’d seen a few hundred miles.
The breeze tousled his short blond hair, drawing my attention to his raw-boned face. His hawk nose and slightly too-wide mouth pushed him out of the classically handsome category, but he was pleasant enough to look at. There was a certain charm to the way the left corner of his mouth turned up, and his sharp, reddish-yellow shifter eyes commanded attention.
I slowly got to my feet, nose twitching. My hackles rose as I caught his scent – he was a jaguar shifter. Around these parts that could only mean one thing.
“You must be my aunt Mafiela’s latest messenger boy.” I tossed my head, and a sudden gust of wind caught at my hair, streaming the thick black curls out from behind me like a banner. “Did she send you here to taunt me in her stead? Is she so busy she can’t make the time herself?”
The shifter arched a brow. “I am a recent addition to the Baine clan… but no, I’m not the Chieftain’s ‘messenger boy’. I’m Shiftertown Inspector Boon Lakin.”
I froze. The new Shiftertown Inspector? I eyed him up and down again, noting the knives cleverly concealed in his boots. That long coat of his could have many pockets in which to store more weapons and other useful tools…
“Let’s see some I.D. then, Inspector.” I closed the distance between us and held out a hand.
He reached beneath the collar of his coat and pulled out a golden medallion. My heart constricted as I caught sight of the fang symbol stamped into the center, as well as the runes that danced around the edges of the circle – it was the same one Roanas had worn.