It was Fenris, in human form.
The breath I was holding left me in a rush of relief, and I collapsed. Unfortunately, so did the lout I was choking to death, and it didn’t appear that he was going to move any time soon. Groaning, I attempted to shove the guy off me, but my arms might as well have been feathers – they had absolutely no strength left in them.
“Sir,” the guard who was still standing began. “We heard screams and came down here to find the hybrid –”
“Don’t call her that,” Fenris growled, dropping to his knees beside me. He shoved the guard off me carelessly and pressed his fingers against my neck to feel my pulse. “Sunaya, what happened here?”
Tears blurred my vision all over again at the compassion in his voice. Finally, there was someone here in this forsaken place who wanted to help me, who didn’t look at me with suspicion and malice.
“I just came down here for some bread and fish,” I croaked, the tears sliding down my cheeks faster now that nobody was there to beat them out of me. “That’s all I wanted.”
“Resinah forgive me,” Fenris muttered, sliding his hands beneath my shoulders and my knees. “I should have seen to this.”
An alarm bell went off in my head – Resinah was the female goddess mages prayed to, and not one that shifters ever referenced – but then Fenris lifted me into his arms. Pain screamed throughout my entire body, and I forgot about everything except the agony. My vision blurred again, a dull roar filling my ears, and I wasn’t sure what happened after, but the next thing I knew I was being laid out on a table.
By Magorah, I thought, a sharp burst of panic ripping through me as the Chief Mage’s face swam into view. They’re going to experiment on me now!
But when his hands touched me, they were surprisingly gentle. I stilled as a sense of peace stole through me, washing away the panic, and looked up dreamily into Iannis’s face. And as he looked down at me, his brows drawn together, lines bracketed around his mouth, I could almost imagine that he cared.
“Sleep,” he said, his deep, slightly musical voice like a balm to my battered soul, and I went under without another thought.
Chapter Seven
A knock on the door disturbed me from a deep, dreamless sleep. I sat up, disoriented as I looked around the small, round room with its chest of drawers and single, barred window. It took me a moment to remember that I was in Solantha Palace, and that I was kept here so the Chief Mage could study me like a lab rat. My stomach tightened as I scoured my brain for memories of last night, but all I could dredge up was a sense of agony, and the image of the Chief Mage’s face hovering above my head, backlit by a bright, white light. Had he started experimenting on me already?
“Sunaya?” the knocking on the door persisted, and my right ear twitched as I recognized Fenris’s voice. “Are you awake?”
Another memory tickled the back of my mind at the sound. “I’m coming,” I called, swinging my legs from the side of the bed. It was then I noticed I was dressed in a simple white nightgown I’d never seen before in my life.
Someone had definitely tampered with my body last night, even if it had only been to change my clothes.
But if the Chief Mage had drugged or spelled me in some way, my body didn’t know it. Energy sang through my muscles as I got to my feet and crossed the room, and I felt like skipping.
He must have given me some kind of weird pick-me-up spell.
But when I opened the door to see Fenris standing on the other side, the memory of him rushing toward me down the basement steps slammed into my brain.
“Oh.” I clutched the side of my head as I stared at him. He was dressed in dark red instead of black today, but otherwise he was the same tall, muscular man with the dark brown beard and yellow eyes who’d called off my attackers. “You saved me last night.”
“Glad your memory is in working order.” He arched a brow, then lifted the plate of food in his hands. “Hungry?”
“Famished.” The sight of the cold chicken, mashed potatoes and biscuits made my stomach ache so fiercely I thought it might devour itself. I snatched the plate from his hands before I remembered my manners. “Umm, do you want to come in?”
“That was the idea, yes.”
I stepped back to let him enter the room, and that was all of the attention I could spare – I plopped down onto my bed and immediately inhaled the food on my plate.
“Mmm,” I mumbled appreciatively when I was done. “You got any more of this?” The plate of food had taken the edge off my hunger, but I hadn’t eaten a decent meal in forty-eight hours, at least not by shifter standards. Our high metabolisms needed more food than the average human.
Fenris frowned. “I should have thought to bring more. You need the nourishment after your ordeal.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, gesturing to my empty plate. “Have you been assigned as my personal maid or something? Because somehow that kind of task seems beneath you.”
Fenris scowled. “Actually, the Chief Mage sent me here to let you know that he wouldn’t be able to meet with you until later this afternoon. I decided to bring you some food on my way, so that you wouldn’t get yourself in trouble in the kitchens again.”
“What does the Great Lord Iannis have to do that is so pressing he had to push back our morning meeting?” I rolled my eyes. Was I supposed to be grateful to Fenris for rescuing me when it was his master’s fault I’d been nearly beaten to death in the first place?
Fenris arched a brow. “As a matter of fact, he’s still recuperating from last night. He expended a lot of energy healing your injuries, which were rather extensive.”
My jaw dropped as the fragments of memory from last night finally fell into place. “You brought me to the Chief Mage and had him heal me?”
“It seemed the least he could do, since you’d been starved and beaten while under his protection,” Fenris said mildly. “Or at least that’s what I told him when he asked me why I hadn’t brought you to the infirmary instead. Would you rather I had left you lying on the floor?”
He scowled at me, and I flinched, the truth of his words ringing in my ears. “No. But it doesn’t mean that I’m going to grovel at your feet for the supposed ‘favor’ you’ve done me. After all, you’re the pet of the mage who’s keeping me here.”
Fenris’s jaw tightened. “I’m no one’s pet.”
“Well then why are you here with him?” I narrowed my eyes. “You seem like a decent guy, so he must have some kind of hold over you. Do you owe him a debt? Because there are other alternatives to indentured servitude –”
“I am not a slave, Sunaya,” Fenris cut me off, his voice clipped. “I know this might be hard for you to believe, but Iannis and I are good friends. I stand by his side, as he would stand by mine.”
“Is that why you sit at his feet?” I snapped. “Like a dog? Because you two are equal?”
Fenris’s expression turned downright thunderous. “I know that you’re frustrated with your own situation, but believe me when I say from experience that Iannis is not what you think. If I sit by his feet as a wolf, it’s because it’s advantageous to the situation, nothing more. We respect each other, and he has more than earned my loyalty.”
I raised my eyebrows at the conviction that burned in his voice and eyes. He certainly seemed sincere, and yet…“If he’s so great, then why am I still trapped up here in this tower like a prisoner instead of back on the streets? He should have already determined that I’m not a threat to the public.”
“Because you appealed to Iannis directly, and he does nothing by half-measures. He’ll keep you as long as he has to, in order to ensure you’re not a threat and can be released safely back into society.”
Disgust filled me at Fenris’s choice of words. “Yeah, well this isn’t just about me, buddy.” I poked him in the chest. “I was in the middle of investigating a series of shifter murders that no one is taking seriously when I was carted off to jail. If I don’t go free, the murderer is goi
ng to keep killing and he’ll never be brought to justice.”
“Murderer?” Fenris’s dark brows winged up. “What murderer?”
I gave him the abbreviated rundown of the situation, and by the time I finished he was frowning again. “I haven’t heard anything about this,” he said, stroking his beard.
“Yeah, well that’s because whoever’s behind all this likely has someone from the media in their pocket.” I scowled. “Surely you don’t think that’s out of the realm of possibility, do you?”
“Well, no,” Fenris admitted, “I suppose I could try looking into it myself, but I’ll need to find more evidence than just your word before bringing it to Iannis.”
“Well take your time then,” I drawled, leaning back against the wall as Fenris turned for the door. “It’s not like lives are at stake or anything.”
Fenris shot a reproving glare at me over his shoulder. “The Chief Mage expects you in his study in the West Wing at one o’clock, so please make sure you are well-fed and ready by then.” His expression softened. “I’ve instructed the kitchen staff that they are to feed you properly. Feel free to mind-message me if you run into any trouble.”
He closed the door on his way out, and I stared at the brass doorknob for a long time. Had I just gained an ally? Or was there an ulterior motive here that I was too blind to pick up on?
After a long, hot bath, a huge breakfast, and a nice nap, I leisurely made my way over to the Chief Mage’s study in the West Wing. Sure, the kitchen staff might have handed me my stack of pancakes begrudgingly, and the mages who passed me in the halls still looked down at me from their snooty noses as they went about their business, but I was so happy to have a full belly and a clear head that I couldn’t find it in me to be resentful.
Unfortunately my good mood didn’t last – anxiety began to creep in on my sense of contentment as I approached the carved mahogany door that led to the Chief Mage’s study. Though I was mostly disabused of the notion that I was going to be strapped to a table and magically mutated, I was hyper-aware that whatever happened beyond those doors once I stepped through them could very well determine my fate.
I curled my fingers around the cold brass doorknob, then hesitated. I could loiter out here for a few minutes, couldn’t I? I mean, the longer I stayed out here, the longer I could postpone my inevitable death.
Don’t be a scaredy cat, Naya. Put your chin up, shoulders back, and walk in there like you own the place.
Right. I couldn’t let the Chief Mage see that I was intimidated. Taking a deep breath through my nostrils, I followed my own advice, turned the knob and stepped into the Chief Mage’s study.
It was a large room, with plenty of light filtering in through a broad, multi-paned window to the left, the rays of the afternoon sun spilling across the swirling blue-and-gold patterned carpet that covered the length of the floor. To the right, in front of a blue marble hearth with a crackling fire, lay Fenris in wolf form. He rolled to his back and regarded me lazily with one yellow eye, apparently reluctant to move from the hearth, and a smile tugged at the corner of my lips despite myself.
“Miss Baine. You’ve arrived.” The Chief Mage’s voice drew my attention to where he was standing behind a large wooden desk that was clear except for a couple of leather bound books. Shelves filled with more books loomed behind him, and he looked as intimidating as ever, with his cold eyes and enigmatic expression. If I’d expected him to regard me any differently after spending half the night up saving my life, I was wrong – he studied me with the same amount of clinical interest he would one of the books on his desk. And though I knew I shouldn’t be disappointed, I was.
“Unfortunately.” I watched him warily as he came around the desk, a set of dark purple robes flowing around his tall frame. They accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, and the lavender sash that belted them together drew the eye to his trim waistline. Unsure of what to do with myself, I automatically defaulted to parade rest, spreading my legs slightly apart and clasping my hands behind my back, shoulders straight.
“You are a rather rude individual,” the Chief Mage observed, eyeing me up and down critically as if I were a knife on display at a weapons shop rather than a living, breathing person. I caught his scent for the first time – a pleasant combination of sandalwood, musk, and of course, magic – and catalogued it for future reference. “And troublesome, as well.”
“Troublesome?” I glared up at him. “I could say the same of you.”
He arched a brow. “You’re the one who made an appeal to me. I’m simply doing my job.”
That’s a laugh. “I didn’t realize your job consisted of cooping starving, sleep-deprived hybrids up in your palace and siccing psycho assassin-guards on them for daring to pilfer a loaf of bread from the kitchen.”
He frowned. “Psycho assassin-guards?”
“She’s referring to the guard who stabbed her in the shoulder with his sword.” Fenris’s voice echoed in my head, and I assumed Iannis’s too, by the way he glanced over at Fenris.
“I already have one of my staff looking into the matter,” the Chief Mage said dismissively. “Rest assured it will not happen again.”
“Forgive me if I’m less than assured,” I said sarcastically, folding my arms across my chest.
The Chief Mage frowned. “You doubt my ability to keep you safe?”
“I doubt your ability to keep anyone safe,” I challenged, taking a step forward. “Instead of taking an interest in lowering the crime rate in this city, you’re up here enforcing your cruel, antiquated policy against me. Forgive me for not giving you my vote of confidence.”
To his credit, the Chief Mage didn’t react to my aggression; he stood his ground and regarded me with a disapproving frown. “It’s my job to ensure the laws that protect our country are enforced in Solantha,” he said sternly. “Uncontrolled magic wreaked havoc on this country during the Conflict. It is necessary to regulate the use and existence of magic, so as not to have a repeat experience.”
I scoffed at that old party line. “That’s just an excuse you mages use not to share power and influence with anyone else. If you’re so worried about people like me running wild with our magic, why don’t you set up a state-funded program to train us?”
“The amount of resources needed –”
“Don’t even try to tell me there isn’t enough gold.” His eyes widened angrily as I cut him off. I knew I should probably be afraid, but I was too riled up to care. “Magorah knows you and everyone else in the Mage’s Quarter are swimming in it. The real problem is that not one of you actually cares enough to take the time to train us, do you? That’s why you only give us the choice of having our magic wiped, or execution, whenever you find one of us out.”
The Chief Mage’s violet eyes glittered. “It’s a logical approach,” he said stiffly.
“It’s a cruel, heartless approach.” I took another step forward, into his personal space, and his nostrils flared as he looked down his long nose at me. The hair on my arms stood up as magical energy sang through the air, and for the first time real fear crackled through my nerves. But I couldn’t back down, not now. “That’s hardly any choice at all, since nearly all the people who go through the magic wipe end up with permanent mental damage. By the time the mages who perform the wipe are finished, most of the victims would have been better off dead.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “One of my childhood friends, Tanya, failed the test when she was just twelve years old. She was from a human family, and her magical ability was weak, so her family chose to put her through the magic wipe. By the time they were done with her, she could hardly remember her own name, and to this day her family has to care for her because she can’t function in society well enough to hold a job. So don’t tell me how necessary these oppressive laws are. You’re worse than murderers, all of you!”
“How dare you!” the Chief Mage snapped, his cheeks coloring. My eyes widened as he took a step toward me, the folds of his robes brushing agai
nst me. Magical energy crackled around us, little blue-white bolts that wriggled like worms in the air. “Your accusations border on the ridiculous; magic wipes don’t cause mental damage when done properly. Your lies –”
He stopped mid-sentence as Fenris, who at some point had shifted to human, laid a hand on his arm. “She’s not lying, Iannis.”
The magical energy around us faded, and I let out a small sigh of relief as the Chief Mage turned his deadly glower from me so he could look at Fenris. “She has to be.”
Fenris shook his head. “Director Chartis handles most of these reports, and it’s unlikely he would have passed anything like that along to you,” he told Iannis. “I researched this recently, and from what I understand, approximately three quarters of all magic-wipes result in permanent damage to the subject.”
The Chief Mage was silent for a several seconds. “Seventy-five percent?” His voice was dangerously frigid now. “That’s intolerable. I’ve performed several magic wipes myself – any properly trained mage should be able to do it without causing permanent harm. Who is performing these spells?”
Fenris eyed him warily. “You’d have to ask Director Chartis. But if I were to guess, it’s likely low-level mages, or even apprentices.”
“Are you kidding me?” I shouted, balling my hands into fists at my sides. I wanted to punch the Chief Mage in the nose, but I settled for shoving my face into his instead. “You’ve been letting inexperienced mages perform mind-altering magic on us? You lazy, incompetent bastard!”
“Enough!” The Chief Mage raised a hand and blasted me with a pulse of magic. I staggered several steps backward before I found my footing and froze as our gazes collided again – his violet eyes glowed with rage. “You are not the only one in this room capable of reducing another being to a pile of ash,” he said in a soft, deadly voice. “I would advise you to remember that when you speak to me, Miss Baine.”
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