by Jasmine Walt
“Hmm.” He sniffed it. “Very interesting. You’ve infused these crystals with basil, chamomile, and cloud wort. I imagine the user would feel relaxed, their mind free of clutter, after bathing with these.”
Comenius smiled at Fenris as he came around the counter. “That’s why that particular blend is called ‘Calming Focus’.” He embraced me, and I inhaled his woodsy, herbal scent as his strong arms wrapped around me. “Naya.” He beamed down at me. “I’m still getting used to the fact that you’re a free woman again.”
I grinned. “Business seems to be good,” I remarked, looking around the shop. The shelves normally filled with amulets and charms were practically empty. “There a new trend going around?”
“People have been buying protection amulets and warding charms,” he said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “In response to all the panic being spread by the Herald regarding shifters.”
“Comenius!” Noria burst into the shop, her red curls flying wild around her wide-eyed, freckled face. Her left cheek was smudged with grease, and she wore a pair of coveralls and black gloves on her hands, indicating that she’d been working on something mechanical. “You’ll never believe what happened in Shiftertown this morning! Some humans –” She stopped short at the sight of me, hesitation crossing her face. “Oh, hey, Naya and, umm, Wolf-guy –”
“Fenris,” Fenris corrected her mildly. She continued to stare at him, uncertainty warring with the excitement and fear in her eyes.
“Go on,” I encouraged, my voice casual despite the cold pit of dread hollowing out my stomach. “What happened in Shiftertown?”
Guilt flashed across Noria’s face. “Some humans decided to go and riot in the Shiftertown Square,” she said. “They came with bats and swords and stuff, and started bashing in windows and looting stores.”
“Fuck.” I collapsed into one of the chairs in the sitting area, overwhelmed. Humans buying magic protection and looting shifter stores… “We’re looking at civil war if something isn’t done.”
Comenius sighed. “That doesn’t necessarily surprise me.”
I glanced up at him. “Why?”
Noria flopped down into the chair across from me. “Com did some divination magic last night, and as usual it gave us a lot more questions than answers.” She rolled her eyes. “But according to him, the tea leaves point to a shit-stirrer in the works.”
“I believe the term I used was ‘provocateur’,” Comenius corrected mildly. “But nonetheless, I’m afraid it’s true. Someone behind the scenes is stirring up this trouble, and it seems their objective is to create strife between humans and shifters.”
I frowned. “Who would want to do that?”
We all turned to look at Fenris at the same time, our brows arched. He took a step back, palms up. “What?”
“I don’t mean to state the obvious here, but –” Noria started.
“The Mage’s Guild would definitely have motive,” I finished for her. “Or at least someone in it. If humans and shifters are united against them, they’d have a harder time controlling us, and we might even be able to overthrow them.”
“That’s outrageous.” Fenris drew himself up, and in that moment he looked a lot like the Chief Mage. “The Mage’s Guild would have much less harmful ways of ensuring obedience. We need the residents of the city to co-exist peacefully in order for everything to continue running smoothly.”
“We?” Noria’s eyes narrowed, and she slowly stood up. “You know, I’ve never heard a shifter refer to himself as ‘we’ in conjunction with mages. Most shifters hate mages.”
Fenris’s yellow gaze hardened. “I am not most shifters.”
Normally I would have told Noria to back off, since Fenris was a friend, but something about her words struck a chord with me. “Still,” I interjected, “you have to admit it’s a little strange that your loyalties seem to lie more with the mages, than with your own people. Don’t you have a clan, or at the very least a family, who deserves your loyalty more?”
Fenris glared imperiously down at me, and my heart shrank a little – he’d never looked at me like that before. “Lord Iannis is the only family I have,” he said stiffly. “I don’t have anyone else, not that my past is any business of yours.”
By Magorah, I felt like the biggest fool in the world. “Fenris, I –”
“It doesn’t seem as though you have any more need of me.” Fenris bowed to us all. “I’m going to catch a cab back to the palace, where I can be more useful. Good day to you all.”
The bell on the door jangled as Fenris left the shop, and my heart sank straight into my shoes.
“I think I just won the award for biggest asshole of the year,” I muttered.
Noria frowned. “I don’t know, Naya,” she said. “He’s clearly hiding something.”
“And who are we to judge him for his secrets?” Comenius laid a hand on Noria’s shoulder, and she looked up at him with a startled expression on her face. His voice was gentle, but his clear blue eyes were stern, filled with that ageless wisdom that tended to grace magic users. “We all have them buried in our past, and Fenris is entitled not to share his secrets if he doesn’t want to, just as the rest of us are.” His gaze swept over me as well. I wondered if there was a spell that would enable me to sink through the cracks in the wooden floor, and if so, why I hadn’t learned it by now.
I ran a hand through my hair, and pain jabbed at my scalp as my fingers caught on some of the more unruly curls. “You’re right, Com. I shouldn’t have pried.”
Noria’s scowl returned. “I don’t think it’s wrong to be suspicious, especially since he’s allied with the enemy.”
I sighed. “It’s not as black-and-white as that, Noria. Actions speak louder than words, and Fenris has been nothing but helpful to me.”
Noria bit her bottom lip. “Maybe now, but when the time comes –”
I held up a hand, suddenly weary of all the “us against them” talk for the first time in my life. Couldn’t we all get along, instead of constantly going at each other’s throats? “Look, this isn’t really why we came here,” I told her, pulling out the little bag of drugs. “The Enforcer’s Guild took in a deer shifter who was super high off something that smells a lot like anticium – a hallucinogenic if I remember correctly.” I handed it to Noria, deciding not to mention the more gruesome details – there was no need for them to know. “I was thinking maybe your mage friend could compare it to the other sample and see if it was tampered with in the same way.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Noria’s eyes lit up as she took the bag. “Elnos says he’s totally cracked the code on how these dealers are sneaking silver into their drugs.”
“Really?” I sat up straight. “How?”
Noria frowned. “I don’t totally understand how it works, but he basically said he isolated some really rare derivative from a plant that only grows in certain countries in Faricia. Tribal warriors use it to cover up poisons, so they can’t be detected by the shifter slaves who have to taste and drink everything before their masters will touch it.”
“Kalois!” Comenius exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I remember reading about it before – it’s a tropical flower. Brilliant! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
My grin widened. “Aww, c’mon, Com, you can’t fit everything you’ve learned in that head of yours.” I jumped to my feet. “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get your mage friend so he can present his findings to the Chief Mage!”
“Umm, yeah, about that.” Noria shrank back in her seat. “He doesn’t exactly want to.”
I scowled. “Why not?”
“Well, to be honest he doesn’t really want to draw the Chief Mage’s attention toward our magitech experiments, and I have to agree with him.” Noria folded her arms.
I arched an eyebrow. “Magitech?”
“Yeah. You know, magic plus technology equals magitech.” Excitement lit her eyes again. “Speaking of magitech, the Herald and the Ac
ademy have partnered to sponsor a contest for magitech inventions. Whoever comes up with the best new technology will win a hundred gold coins!” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ve already come up with that jammer, so it shouldn’t be too hard to create something that’ll do the job. Elnos and I are so going to win.”
“I would be careful who you tell that to,” Comenius warned. “If you come up with something the Mage’s Guild doesn’t approve of, they wouldn’t hesitate to come down on you and Elnos, especially if you started making a profit off it.”
Noria shrugged. “Eh, I’m not worried. We’re just gonna make a prototype so we can earn the prize money. I’m more than happy to let the bigwigs worry about bringing it to mass market.”
The gleam in her eye suggested that she hadn’t completely discounted the idea of capitalizing on the invention herself, but I decided not to press, and instead brought the conversation back on topic. “Noria, if I get the Chief Mage to agree to grant Elnos amnesty in exchange for the information, do you think he would come?”
Noria blinked. “I don’t see why not. But do you really think you can do it?”
I stood up and shrugged my jacket back on. “I dunno. But I’m definitely gonna give it a shot.”
18
I told Comenius to keep an eye out for Inspector Lakin and give him the case file, and then hustled back to Solantha Palace as fast as I could. The plan was to browbeat the Chief Mage with my findings and demand he grant Noria’s friend amnesty, so that we could get our hands on that evidence. Unfortunately, traffic turned out to be horrendous, so I gave up trying to maneuver my steambike through all the cars and parked in Nob Hill, a hoity-toity area of Rowanville where people strolled the sidewalks wearing fancy togs while oohing and aahing over the objects displayed in boutique windows. I looked out of place in my black pants and leather jacket, stepping around two female humans in brightly colored dresses and wide brimmed hats dripping in jewelry, but since I wasn’t here to see and be seen I ducked into a café and ordered some food.
The place was a lot more cutesy than I liked, done in pastel blue and white with owl decorations scattered everywhere, but the bacon cheeseburger with onion rings sounded good enough, so I ordered, forking over some of the few measly coppers I’d found amongst my delivered belongings. As I sat down at the bar to wait for my grub, I noticed someone had left a copy of the Herald on the counter. It looked like the owner had ditched it, so I slid the paper over to my side of the bar and started flipping through the pages.
SHOULD SHIFTERS BE BANNED FROM MAINTOWN? COUNCIL DEBATES.
I froze as the headline on page three caught my eye. Next to it was a black-and-white photograph of a snarling wolf shifter in human form, his fangs and claws extended. Anger bubbled up inside me as I stared at the photograph – likely it was just some shifter teen who’d been asked to pose for a couple of bucks. Fucking sell-outs. My burger arrived on the counter, and I snatched it up and munched on it, bacon grease coating my fingers as I read.
With the recent slew of shifter-human fighting, the Maintown Council is seriously debating whether or not shifters should continue to be allowed to work and interact with our community. Only yesterday, a raven shifter attacked his boss, hardware shop owner Antano Lopkin, simply for asking him to put a broom away. The crazed shifter, who was later discovered to be under the influence of narcotics, reportedly took the broom and proceeded to shove…
I skimmed over the next couple of paragraphs detailing all the recent drug-fueled crimes committed by shifters, knowing that I was liable to start shredding the paper with my claws if I started reading them.
Some have suggested that new shifter drugs hitting the black market are responsible for these outbreaks, rather than the shifters themselves. However, experts suggest that these drugs are merely exposing the inherent weakness of the shifter psyche. It has long been known that shifters are emotionally unstable, hardly surprising when one considers that they originated as a hybrid species several thousand years ago. If this weren’t the case, human crime would be skyrocketing in relation to the amount of drug trafficking as well.
I raked my claws through the paper, furious beyond belief at the writer’s audacity. Human drug addicts committed plenty of crimes while under the influence! I’d dealt with dozens of strung-out addicts during my time as an Enforcer, and knew from experience that these bastards would do anything, and I mean anything, for a hit when they were hard up for drugs. This wasn’t reporting at all, but a hit piece. Whoever had written this article was intentionally trying to paint shifters in a negative light.
I scanned the shredded article for the byline, which had miraculously survived my claws. A tick started in my jaw as I recognized the name – Hanley Fintz. The same reporter who had tried to interview me in my cell the night before my hearing. The man who’d told me he was sympathetic to shifters and would try to paint me in a positive light.
Apparently he’d lied.
Two human guards jerked to attention as I strode through the revolving door of the Herald’s offices – a large circular white building in the heart of Maintown. Ignoring them, I made a beeline for the white reception desk that stood in the middle of the gleaming white lobby, and slapped my hand down on the counter to get the attention of the curly-haired brunette manning the desk.
Not that I really needed to get her attention – her wide-eyed gaze had been on me the moment I walked through the door.
“C-can I help you?” she stuttered, her oval face pale. Clearly she wasn’t used to seeing shifters in the office much – that, or she was worried that we were all going to come and riot right here in the Herald because of all the shitty propaganda they’d been writing against us.
“You sure can.” I gave her a gamine grin, resisting the urge to show some fang – the guards’ hands were already too close to their swords, and I didn’t need some reporter snapping a picture of me brawling right here in the Herald’s office. “I’m here to see Hanley Fintz.”
“I see.” The receptionist’s plump lips thinned, as if I’d confirmed her suspicions. “I’m afraid he’s not taking any visitors right now –”
“He’ll see me.” I held up my wrist so the woman could see my Enforcer bracelet. “This is regarding an investigation.”
The woman’s face whitened even more as she leaned closer to inspect the bronze shield on my wrist. As she did, my nerves began to itch – I didn’t know how smart it was for me to barge in here by myself, with no backup. As soon as I’d realized that Fintz must be connected to all this bullshit, I’d rushed over right away, wanting to catch the bastard before he left his office.
“Very well,” the receptionist finally said in a clipped voice. She settled back into her chair and pointed to a hallway on my right. “His office is upstairs, five doors down from the elevator. Gerod will escort you.” She nodded to one of the guards, who stepped forward, pinning me with an intimidating glare.
I shrugged, refusing to let a mere human guard bother me. “Fine. Lead the way.”
The elevators, like everything else in this building, were white, with white flooring and walls, and the black call buttons stood out. I rode up to the second floor, then strode down a white-carpeted hallway to the sixth office door, my new pet guard in tow.
I didn’t knock or ask for entry. I just kicked the door open and strode in, ignoring the protesting voice of the guard behind me.
Hanley Fintz was hunched over the typewriter on his desk, no doubt clacking out another slanderous article. He jumped as the door banged against a metal filing cabinet. “What is the meaning of this!” he shouted, his eyes rounding behind his spectacles. Without his large slicker draped over his spindly frame, he looked distinctly unimpressive in his shirtsleeves and slacks.
“I’m here to interrogate you, you slime.” I bared my fangs, fury taking hold as I grabbed him by his flimsy collar.
“Guards!” Fintz squeaked, and the guard who’d accompanied me grabbed my arm.
“Ma’am,” he
said sternly, hauling me back. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave –”
I whirled around, using the momentum from his own grip, and slammed my knee into his midsection, hard. The guard crumpled against me with a painful gasp and I let him fall to the floor, then shoved him aside so that anybody passing by wouldn’t be able to see him.
Sure, that might’ve been a little harsher than warranted, but I wasn’t feeling too chummy toward Privacy Guard employees these days.
“There.” I turned back to the reporter, who was quivering in the corner, his back pressed up between two metal bookshelves. “Now, Fintz, you’re going to be a good boy and tell me the truth. Who’s been bribing you?”
“W-what?” His cheeks colored, his eyes narrowing despite his quivering fear. “Nobody! I’m employed by the Herald, just doing my job. Did you really barge into my office and injure a guard just to ask me that?”
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” I snagged him by the collar again and drew him close until we were nose to nose, and bit back a grimace at the acrid stench of fear. “I want to know who’s paying you to write these nasty propaganda articles about shifters.”
“It isn’t propaganda!” Fintz protested, sweat rolling down the sides of his narrow face. His clammy hands pawed ineffectually at my grasp. “What I reported in that article is completely true! You shifters are an emotional and unstable lot! Just look at you! Manhandling me like some kind of wild animal –”
I slammed him into the bookshelf, knocking down several volumes. One of them bounced off the top of his head, and he yelped. “Cut the crap, Fintz.” I kept my voice even. “I’ve been looking at the papers, and the Herald has been using its influence to pit humans and shifters against each other. Tell me, right now, who’s been paying you off for that, and you might not have to spend the rest of the night lounging in the same jail cell that I did.”