Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 7)

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Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 7) Page 11

by Jasmine Walt


  “Umm, we’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Mendle.” Normally, I would have sounded a lot more official, but the fetid smell of sickness was wafting from beyond the open door, and man, it was strong. My skin crawled, and I fought the urge to back away. “Are they in?”

  “Mr. Mendle is at the office, and the missus is indisposed, I’m afraid,” the butler said. A gust of wind blew past us, and he looked like he was about to topple over. “If you’d like, I can take a message.”

  “This is a matter of some urgency—” Garrett began, but I cut him off.

  “That would be just fine.” I took out a pad and pen, scribbled down a note, and handed it to the servant. “Please have Mrs. Mendle call me at her earliest convenience.”

  As soon as the door closed, I grabbed Garrett by the sleeve and dragged him away from the house as fast as I could without looking like we were running away.

  “What are you doing?” he snapped, struggling to break my grip. “Why did you cut me off like that!”

  I refused to answer him until we were beyond the gates and out of earshot of the guard.

  “Didn’t you notice how sick that guy was?” I demanded, finally letting go of him. “There’s no way we were going in there and interviewing Mrs. Mendle today.” I shook my head. “Something was definitely wrong.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Garrett said, smoothing the sleeve of his robe where I’d grabbed him. “You’re a shifter—you don’t succumb to human illnesses. And neither do I. We would have been perfectly safe.”

  Normally, I would have agreed with him. But… “I just had a bad feeling, okay?” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest. Damn, did it get colder, or did I just have the chills? “That sickness, whatever it is, was affecting the whole house. Even the butler was barely able to stand, for Magorah’s sake. Just because I can’t get sick doesn’t mean I can’t accidentally pass the disease to someone else. There are human children who I help look after. Besides, it won’t do any good to interview Mrs. Mendle while she’s so ill. She needs to be coherent.”

  “Very well,” Garrett said, but from the sound of his voice, I could tell he was anything but pleased by my explanation. “We’ll do it your way and come back another time. But I don’t have forever, Miss Baine. As Lord Iannis himself said, if I don’t find any leads soon, I’ll have to move on.”

  “I know, and I’ve been wondering why a man of your importance, with a large and growing organization at his beck and call, would be doing this sort of house call at all. Surely the boss doesn’t need to lower himself like this.” I arched a brow, deliberately needling him.

  “A bit of fieldwork now and then helps keep my skills fresh,” he said stiffly. After a moment, he added, “And this case is high-profile enough to merit my personal attention. I don’t see why we are even discussing this, not when every minute that passes is so precious. We should be heading to see Mr. Mendle at his office. Not bickering about why I’m here.”

  “Sure, we can do that. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was wasting your precious time.” His eyes flashed, and I bit back the rest of my snarky retort. Garrett was right—there wasn’t time for bickering.

  We got back onto the bike, and drove to Mr. Mendle’s office, which was on the other side of Maintown. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in—he was out overseeing some emergency repairs—so we moved on to the next people on our list, a banker and his socialite wife, and a rich playboy in the diamond trade who lived in a tricked-out bachelor’s pad in Rowanville. Neither of them had seen Thorgana or had any clue about her whereabouts, and as my nose could detect no lie, we had nothing to show for our efforts.

  Maybe Thorgana really isn’t here, I thought as we rode back to the Palace for lunch. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of giving up if there was a chance she was lurking in my city, but if this was an excuse to send Garrett packing, I’d gladly pounce on it. I could always continue sniffing her out after he was gone.

  I was tempted to go back to my room for a bit of solitude, but I forced myself to follow Garrett straight to the Winter Garden room. It seems like every meal is going to be a working one these days, I thought resentfully as I sat down to lunch with Chen, Kardanor, Garrett, and Pillick.

  To my surprise, I spotted Fenris curled up on the window bench in wolf form. No doubt he’d chosen to come so he could keep up on developments. The kitchen had sent up shepherd’s pie today, one of my least favorite meals, but I forced myself to pile two helpings on my plate and dig in. I would need my strength to get through the rest of the day.

  As we ate and talked, I noticed that Chen seemed to have warmed to Kardanor. The two were sitting close together, chattering enthusiastically about the progress they were making on their various projects. At one point, Chen even gave him a rare smile. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes met mine, and I bit back a grin. Oh boy. Director Chen was in big trouble.

  I was just considering the idea of teasing Director Chen about her new beau when Iannis walked in. My jaw dropped in shock as my eyes flitted from Iannis to his guest—Father Calmias, dressed in a fresh set of white robes, and glowing with inner peace and serenity.

  “Lord Iannis,” Director Chen exclaimed in horror, shooting to her feet. Fenris and I exchanged a glance. Could it be…? “Why have you brought Father Calmias in here, with no restraints?”

  “There is no need to fear,” Iannis said, pulling out a chair for himself and another for his unorthodox guest. “Father Calmias has renounced his previous gospel. He is being released today as a free man.” He looked over the room. “Now be seated.”

  “That’s outrageous,” Garrett said, staring at Iannis as though he’d lost his mind. He remained standing even as the rest of us took our seats. “Father Calmias is indirectly responsible for hundreds of casualties.”

  “For which I will spend the remainder of my life repenting,” Father Calmias said gravely. I nearly fell out of my chair at the profound sorrow in his voice, which my nose told me was absolutely genuine. “I have done terrible things in the name of the Ur-God, things I now realize must have been planted in my head by some evil spirit.”

  “And how did you come to this realization?” Garrett probed, sounding highly skeptical.

  “The Ur-God came to me in a dream last night.” Father Calmias lifted his face to the ceiling, a misty sort of awe in his eyes. “He showed me a grand vision, where the three races existed together in harmony, and taught me that my real purpose was to help guide my parishioners toward peace, rather than turning their hearts against their neighbors.” He bowed his head in shame. “I cannot believe it has taken me all this time to see the path to true wisdom.”

  “By the Lady,” Fenris said to me in mindspeak, sounding astonished. “He really went through with it! That Tua spell works even better than I imagined!”

  “He must have,” I agreed, turning my attention to Iannis. His eyes were twinkling with delight despite the calm mask he wore. “When did you do the spell on him?”

  “This morning,” Iannis said, “after I came back from the temple. It would seem that you and Fenris were right to insist—the change is remarkable,” he admitted reluctantly. “But we shall see what happens.”

  “Father Calmias,” I said, deciding to test out his new personality, “I attended one of your sermons in Maintown, not long before you were imprisoned. It was very interesting, and I’d like to ask you about some things that were said.”

  “I’m sure I said many things of which I am now ashamed,” Father Calmias said heavily. He clasped his hands together atop the table and met my eyes. “Please ask whatever you wish, child.”

  I cleared my throat, trying not to be thrown off by his drastic change in attitude. He seemed wise and gracious now, almost grandfatherly. “I overheard some members of the congregation gossiping about secret weapons being developed by the Resistance. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Other than the viruses?” Calmias asked, and I nodded. He hummed under his breath for a moment, thinking. “I’m n
ot sure—I was never personally involved in any of that, though I heard many things. A few of my parishioners were indeed Resistance members, but the viruses were the main thing they had up their sleeve. If they are still around, I will talk to them about letting go of any malicious intentions, and returning to a normal life.”

  “If you are serious about peace,” Iannis said, “you should gather your parishioners and give them the same message. Do a radio broadcast and tell them about your vision from the Ur-God. If you do not spread the message far enough, there will continue to be unnecessary loss of life.”

  A tremor shook the walls as he spoke, and Father Calmias paled a little, gripping the edge of the table.

  “Yes, of course. You are right, Lord Iannis,” he said faintly when the shaking had subsided, his eyes wide as he looked around in shock. “It would seem that the Ur-God agrees. I shall follow your suggestions immediately.”

  “Are you certain there was no other weapon in the works?” I pressed. “Nothing else that Thorgana might be planning to use against us now?”

  “Well, the viruses were never delivered to Solantha’s Resistance chapter,” Father Calmias said, eyes far off in thought. “And when they field tested the few vials they did have, they found that the viruses were insufficiently powerful to cause a real epidemic. Only a few dozen mages and shifters died, and the improved versions they were waiting on never arrived. As you can imagine, the Resistance soldiers administering the tests were very disappointed. So you should be safe on that front.”

  “Thank you, Father. You have no idea how much that gladdens my heart,” I said, letting out a sigh of relief.

  “Wait!” Father Calmias exclaimed, jerking upright in his chair. “I do remember one other thing. There was another secret weapon, of which Thorgana showed me pictures once, that was said to be very effective. She called it the Magic Eraser, or the Eraser for short.”

  My mouth went dry.

  “The Magic Eraser?” Iannis demanded. “Surely that title is a misnomer. There is no device that can erase magic.”

  “This one can,” Father Calmias insisted. “Or at least, Thorgana seemed to think so. It certainly doesn’t look magical, though—the pictures showed a strangely shaped metal object, about the size of a human skull. Thorgana said it is very heavy, and that placing it close to a mage for a mere twenty minutes results in irreversible erasure of his or her magic. The older ones die soon after, since the magic is what unnaturally prolongs their lives.”

  “Preposterous,” Garrett exclaimed, his eyes wide with anger and alarm. “If such a metal existed, it would be strictly regulated, perhaps even banned by the Accords.”

  “It could be a new discovery,” Iannis said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “The humans have always been more interested in technology than we are. As unlikely as it may seem, they may have found some naturally occurring metal capable of such devastating power.”

  “Are there any other side effects?” Director Chen asked Father Calmias. Her face was paler than normal, and I could smell the shock and unease coming off her. “Any kind of warning sign that would tell mages if the object is near?”

  Father Calmias shook his head. “It is noiseless and odorless. Thorgana said that the victims feel a terrible nausea, but only once the damage is done. By then it is too late. She also said—” and here, his gaze turned to me, “—that if used on a shifter, it results in them permanently being fixed in their current form.”

  I gaped. “You mean if it was used on me in panther form, I would never be able to change back into a human?”

  “Yes,” Father Calmias confirmed, nodding.

  “It’s impossible to say how it might affect you,” Iannis said, eyes full of worry, “seeing as how you are both shifter and mage. Maybe it would be worse, or maybe it wouldn’t affect you at all.” His eyes hardened as he turned back to Father Calmias. “What happened to this Magic Eraser? Why hasn’t Thorgana put it to use yet, if it was so effective?”

  “The research team never managed to replicate their one working prototype,” Father Calmias said, staring down at the table. “Apparently, the material is exceedingly rare, and there must have been an accident with the viruses they were also working on, because all the members of the team suddenly died from some kind of infection.” Iannis and I exchanged a look—that didn’t sound ominous. “I think the prototype would have been sent to Thorgana, but I have no idea if she ever received it or not. It has been some time since we last spoke.”

  We questioned Father Calmias about the weapon a little bit more, but once it was clear he didn’t know anything else, we sent him on his way with an escort. No doubt there would be a celebration at his release—at least until his followers got to hear their pastor’s new gospel. I wondered if they would accept it, or if they would turn on him. I hoped it was the former—we really didn’t need them to seek out some other bigot catering to their prejudices, even if that was more than likely to be the case. After all, people tended to seek out those who reaffirmed their own biases.

  Once Father Calmias was gone, the rest of us immediately launched into a discussion about the Magic Eraser. Garrett and Pillick refused to believe such an object existed, and Director Chen seemed torn. Iannis wasn’t willing to dismiss the possibility completely, but I could tell even he was skeptical. It was simply beyond the ability of these mages to conceive that a man-made object could strip them of their power. Kardanor wisely said nothing, keeping his own counsel on the matter.

  “Regardless of whether you believe this weapon exists or not,” I said loudly, interrupting them, “it doesn’t change the fact that Father Calmias definitely believes every word he said to us. Unless Thorgana lied to him about it, and I can’t see why she’d spin up a story about such a powerful device, we have to assume this thing exists.”

  “She could have made it up to convince him and his followers that the Resistance had a good chance of winning,” Garrett pointed out. “I’m sure she received lots of funding from Father Calmias and his parishioners. If they thought that the Resistance didn’t stand a chance, they might have withdrawn their support.”

  That was possible, but it didn’t really sound like the kind of thing Thorgana would do. We argued about it for a little while, but in the end, we agreed we should at least assume the object existed until proven otherwise.

  “I wonder where such a weapon would best be deployed to do the most harm,” Chen said. “Surely it would be Dara, rather than Solantha, since the capital has the highest concentration of powerful mages? Even if Thorgana did flee here, she could have arranged to have the device smuggled into the Capitol building during the next Convention. If she could cripple all or most of the Chief Mages and the Minister in one go, the effect would be devastating.”

  “I will have the building searched immediately,” Garrett said, his face hardening. “Pillick, I want you to take care of tightening security. No human will be smuggling such an atrocious object onto the Capitol grounds, not on my watch.” His hazel eyes glittered dangerously.

  “I will do the same for the Palace,” Iannis said. He reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it a little harder than necessary. “I wouldn’t put it past Thorgana to force you to live as a panther for the rest of your days, so try to remain in human form unless you absolutely have to shift.”

  “I will,” I promised, my veins icing at the very thought. Permanently turning me into an animal before Iannis and I were wed would be a horrible vengeance that fit Thorgana’s brand to a T. “We should make sure any large or heavy parcels delivered to the Palace are opened and searched before being allowed inside. And all unexpected deliveries should be subjected to an automatic search.”

  “We’ll put a team of human servants on it,” Iannis said, nodding. “They won’t be at risk.”

  “Do you think my predecessor is at all aware of this Magic Eraser?” Director Chen asked, her brow furrowed. “I am having a hard time envisioning any mage being okay with the existence of such a terrible
device.”

  “I doubt it,” Iannis said. “Argon Chartis may hate the establishment now, but he is still a mage, and he would not want Thorgana to be in possession of a weapon that could destroy him so completely. He is not an idiot—he must suspect that she plans to get rid of him when he is no longer useful, as he is no doubt planning to do to her. He likely thinks that once he is the last mage standing, it will be very easy to do away with Thorgana.”

  “Yeah, well, if this Eraser thing really exists, then he’s gonna be in for a nasty surprise,” I said with a grim smile.

  “Let’s hope Chartis never needs to find out that he does not have the upper hand,” Garrett said. “As Miss Baine says, if this thing does exist, we must make every effort to find it and destroy it quickly. Since it will likely be with Thorgana, we can kill two birds with one stone.” He smiled fiercely, and I recognized the gleam in his eyes—it was the thrill of the hunt. The bastard was far from ready to give up.

  14

  Garrett and I had planned to spend the rest of the day going down the long list of Thorgana’s associates, but it turned out he had an urgent transmission from Dara to deal with, giving me an unexpected reprieve. I spent an hour on my Loranian lessons with Fenris, then headed down to Shiftertown with Rylan to volunteer, as I’d promised I would.

  Lakin was more than happy to see me, and I spent the rest of the afternoon helping him deal with small-claims cases. It was frustrating work, but I was surprised and pleased to see that most of the shifters I dealt with no longer viewed me with resentment. In fact, they treated me with respect, and even a certain amount of admiration in some cases.

  More proof that my role in society is changing, I thought as I rode home. And wasn’t that the kicker, that I considered the Palace my home? Once, it had been a prison, and I’d been a bottom-rung enforcer, shunned by society. Now I was being viewed as a role model. The weight of that responsibility sat heavily on my shoulders, and I realized I was going to have to be more careful about my reputation than ever. I was, in many ways, the bridge that supported the tenuous peace between shifters and mages right now. If I fell, many others would be affected.

 

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