by Jasmine Walt
“Leave that to me,” I said firmly. “I’ll take charge of the ore. When the time comes, I’ll have it converted into proper coins that not even a shifter can tell from the mages’ gold. I have certain…connections who will be able to assist.” They did not need to know I could easily accomplish that feat. During my long civil service career, I had created all too many coins myself, and was still perfectly able to do so.
“Fair enough,” Marris said. He stood up from the log he’d been sitting on. “That’s not for another year, anyway. Let’s stop dwelling on such serious topics and go have some fun. How about we head to the tavern and play a few rounds of poker?”
We saddled up our horses, then headed back through the woods and into town. On the way, we passed by my farm. “Your garden sure is thriving,” Cobil said, admiring the rows of vegetables, their shoots and stalks tall and green. “I don’t even see any signs of rabbits nibbling.”
“You are welcome to help yourself to some of the vegetables while I’m away,” I offered.
“Are you really doing this all by yourself?” Marris asked. “I thought you didn’t have a lot of farming experience. You must have a green thumb.”
“I’m learning,” I said, smiling a little. I’d been making heavy use of the agricultural spells I’d memorized long ago, keeping the vermin away and coaxing the plants to grow faster. Without any books to study, I had far too much time on my hands, and I’d resorted to practicing all the household and farming spells I knew.
It’s a good thing I have a first-rate memory for spells, I thought as we continued. It had certainly come in handy during Mina’s performances, and I had no doubt we would have need of it again in Innarta.
7
Fenris
After several enjoyable hours of beer and card games in the common room of Abbsville’s only inn, Marris and his friends finally decided to head home. I bid the three of them goodnight, staying behind to pay the bill and chat with Julon, the innkeeper. He had become friendlier after the incident with Roor—apparently, he admired me for being able to lift the heavy farmer and throw him across the room with one arm, though it was not a great feat for a shifter. That I’d paid for the damages even though the fight hadn’t been my fault had also improved his opinion of me.
“I think you’re doing a wonderful thing, keeping an eye out on those three,” he said as I finished my beer. “They’re good men, but still young and a little too ready to get into trouble.”
“They just need to direct all that youthful energy on a worthwhile goal,” I said, smiling. I had no doubt the innkeeper knew more than he let on. “Marris has been very welcoming to me since I first arrived, as has his whole family. I am glad to get on well with my nearest neighbors.”
I was just about to take my leave when the door opened and Constable Foggart rushed in, looking harried. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up—he smelled of sweat and worry, and the way his eyes swept the room told me he was looking for someone.
“Evening, Julon, Mr. Shelton,” the constable said, coming up to the bar. He glanced around one more time at the few patrons lingering over their drinks, then quietly said, “Is Marris Dolan still here?”
“He just left,” I said in an equally low voice. “What is the matter, Constable?”
The constable leaned in. “An agent from the Mages Guild is in town,” he whispered, “flashing about a pretty accurate sketch of Marris and asking where he can be found. Some idiot already identified Marris, and the mage is getting a horse now to go out to the Dolan farm. I’ve promised to show him the way there, but I’m going to take the long way around to buy Marris some time. Someone needs to warn him.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Urgency filled my veins, and I raced out of the inn. My stallion was waiting at the post where I’d left him, ready to go, and I swung myself in the saddle and urged him into a hard gallop. Roundabout way or not, we did not have much time until the mage arrived at Marris’s farm—I had to get there first.
There was just enough moonlight through the cloud cover to make out the unpaved road, and I was able to reach the Dolan farm in a matter of minutes. Heart thundering in my ears, I launched off my horse before he had stopped moving completely. I hit the ground running and threw open the door, not bothering to knock.
“Fenris!” Marris jumped to his feet—he’d been sitting on the couch, looking at a book with his sister Dana. “What’s going on?”
“An agent from the Mages Guild is here to arrest you.” I grabbed Marris by his elbow and hauled him away from the couch. “Quick, you must pack a bag now. We have to leave.”
“Arrest Marris?” Mrs. Dolan and Dana cried at the same time.
“For what?” his mother demanded.
“I will explain it to you while he packs.” I shoved Marris toward the hallway. “Go.”
Marris’s two brothers rushed into the room to see what the commotion was about, and I explained the situation to the family as concisely as possible. Marris’s mother was furious, but her fear for her son outweighed her anger at his reckless activities. She barked an order for her youngest son to saddle Marris’s horse and for her daughter to pack some provisions.
“Okay,” Marris panted as he rushed back into the room, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was dressed head to toe in black, and I nodded in approval—the harder it was for him to be seen, the better.
“I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, Marris Dolan,” his mother said fiercely, “but if you get yourself killed, I will bring you back from the dead so I can spank you myself!”
Marris laughed, the sound strained, and pulled his mother into a hug. “I’m sorry, Ma,” he said. “But I’ll be fine, thanks to Fenris’s timely warning.”
“You’d better be,” Dana said as she handed Marris a bundle of food wrapped in wax paper. She hugged him tightly, tears in her eyes. “You only just came back, Marris. You can’t go away again.”
“I have to,” Marris said gently. “But it won’t be for long.”
“We’ll deny everything,” his brother Roglar, a sturdy twenty-year-old, said as Marris pulled away from his sister. “And do our best to stall for as long as possible. We’ll tell them you’re on a business trip on the East Coast.” He clasped Marris in a brief hug. “Now get going.”
Not wasting time with more goodbyes, Marris and I ran out of the house and jumped into our saddles. We urged the horses into a swift gallop, racing across the farm and out through the back gate in case the mage was already approaching from the front. My heart pounded in time with the horses’ galloping hooves, and I could not help thinking back to my own flight from Nebara all those years ago.
What I was doing tonight was hardly “lying low,” which was my whole reason for settling in this remote place. It was one thing to trick a tax inspector, quite another thing to aid and abet Marris when I was a fugitive myself.
But it simply was not in my nature to be a bystander when someone needed me. Marris might have broken the law, but he certainly did not deserve to be punished when he had only been trying to help.
Once we were well away from the farm, we finally let our horses walk. My stallion was particularly winded after I’d pushed him hard twice in one evening. I gratefully patted his sweaty neck and resolved to spoil him with treats as soon as we got home.
“Thank you,” Marris said quietly as the grass rustled about us. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did. I couldn’t leave you at the mercy of that mage. He would have you hanged, and then where would your family be?”
Marris let out a disgusted sigh. “I can’t believe I’m running away,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish I’d had a chance to tell Barrla goodbye, at least. Will you tell her I’m sorry for breaking our date? You can tell her the truth about what happened—she won’t rat me out, and I want her to know I didn’t stand her up on purpose.”
“I will.” I wasn’t relishing the prospect of having that conversation
, but neither did Barrla deserve to worry needlessly or think herself forgotten. “In the meantime, let’s talk about getting you to safety.”
“But what does that mean?” Marris threw up his hands. “I can’t just wander from town to town, wasting money while my family suffers without me. I need to do something useful, preferably something that will allow me to bring back some coin when it is safe for me to return home.”
“While I don’t advise making hasty decisions, there are many paths in life beyond farming, and you are still young enough to start another career. It will be difficult, but your family will get on without you for the next few months—your siblings are old enough, and I will give them a break on the rent if need be.”
Marris was silent for a long moment. “You are a better friend than I deserve,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
I smiled. “If you truly want to keep busy, there is a mission of sorts I could give you. I’ve been meaning to do this sooner, but it has been difficult to find someone I can trust.”
“Oh?” Marris sounded intrigued. “What sort of mission?”
“I have left a trunk of books in Osero that I need here,” I told him. “They are waiting to be picked up at an inn by a ‘Mr. Sarman.’ If you could go and retrieve them for me, it would be an immense help.”
“Seems simple enough.”
“Most of the books in the box are forbidden for non-mages to possess,” I warned, not mentioning that several of them were unique and quite valuable. “My late uncle, who was a mage, willed them to me. I wish to keep them for sentimental reasons. Above all, you must make certain that no one is watching when you claim the box or follows you back to Abbsville. There is a certain mage out there who would be absolutely delighted to find out I settled here, and it would spell my doom if he were to find out. If you find that the trunk is under surveillance, leave it there and come straight back to report to me.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” Marris’s eyes sparkled—as I expected, he perked right up at the thought of danger. “A mage enemy, eh? You must have lived quite an exciting life.”
“There shouldn’t be all that much danger,” I said wryly, hoping I was right. “It has been many months since he has looked for me, and I have been very careful to hide my trail. Nobody in Osero should be able to connect you and me, so just play dumb if necessary.”
“I’m sure I can get the box back to you, no problem,” Marris said. He eyed me speculatively, as if he knew there was much more to this story, but thankfully he did not press. “If anyone in authority should try to check the box, I can just pretend to be an agent for the mage owner. Besides, I’ve learned enough during my time in the Resistance to be able to spot and evade pursuit.”
“Very well.” I tugged open the money pouch hanging from my belt, then pressed a handful of coins into Marris’s palm. “For the journey.”
“Thanks.” Marris hesitated. “You don’t really have to give me money—I still have former comrades-in-arms across the Federation. We help each other out in emergencies. In fact, I’ll probably touch base with some of them and see what they’re up to while I’m out. If any issues come up, I’ll send you a message under the name ‘Richiar.’”
“Consider it an advance payment for your time and trouble,” I insisted. “And should you return before me, keep the box and hide it securely until I come back.”
“Will do.”
I traveled with Marris another few miles. Once the lights of the next village became visible in the distance, I bid him farewell and headed back to Abbsville. It seemed Mina and I were not the only ones going on a perilous journey, I mused darkly. I could only hope that we all came back in one piece.
8
Mina
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” I said as Fenris and I lounged in comfortable leather chairs in the Deros Airport’s waiting room. We’d already completed the first leg of our flight and were waiting for our connection further south to Haralis. “My stomach lurched a bit with nerves when we took off, but once we were actually floating in the air, the flight was quite pleasant.”
“I told you it would be.” Fenris lightly rubbed my shoulder—his arm was around me and I was leaning lightly against his chest, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat. “Expensive, but worth it.”
I’ll say. The company charged three gold coins for a two-way trip from Watawis to Innarta, but so far, the journey by air had been far more comfortable than traveling in a cramped steambus, not to mention much faster. With less than three weeks to go until I irrevocably lost my inheritance, I could hardly afford to waste even a single day. I had to get to Haralis before my relatives sold off my estate.
“I hope the cat is all right,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip. I had dropped him off with Barrla the previous night. He’d seemed very reluctant when I’d first taken him out of the cage at her house.
“He appeared to warm up to Barrla just fine when you introduced the two of them,” Fenris said. “I’m sure by the time you come back the two of them will be inseparable.”
I smiled—it would be good if the cat found a permanent home. In the general store belonging to Barrla’s family, there would never be any shortage of food. With my future so uncertain, I could hardly commit to taking on a pet, which was ironic since I was a veterinarian by trade.
Furthermore, with Roor and his mother accusing me of witchcraft, and the attention I was getting from the Mages Guild, it was only a matter of time until the truth about my identity was revealed. Sooner or later, people would connect my too-youthful looks, and the way I was able to miraculously cure animals at death’s door, with Mrs. Roor’s accusations.
Oh well. You were never meant to spend the rest of your life in Abbsville, anyway.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a staff member announced over the loudspeaker, “we regret to inform you that the flight to Haralis is delayed due to inclement weather. We shall inform you as soon as a new departure time is established.”
I groaned. “Figures.” While the airport was nice enough, with comfortable seating and a coffee stand just a few feet from us selling pastries and beverages, I was not looking forward to waiting here for the next few hours.
“Don’t fret,” Fenris said. “We can use the time to double-check our plans, see if we missed anything.”
I held in a sigh—we had gone over our strategy several times. But considering what was at stake, there was no harm in doing so again. “I’m Tamina Marton,” I recited, “and must remember to use my own name at all times.” Not that it would be difficult—I’d been going by Mina since I was a child. I would just have to be careful not to sign anything under the alias I’d been using for so long.
“You will be Yoron ar’Tarnis, an elderly mage from the Central Continent who settled in the Federation about two centuries ago,” I continued. “You were a beau of my late grandmother, and I went to find you after I fled from my dreadful cousin. Seeing me so distressed, and because I reminded you of your long-lost love, you took me in out of the generosity of your heart.” I pressed a hand to my chest in dramatic flair.
Fenris’s lips twitched. “And having heard you are about to be declared dead and your inheritance dispersed, we have returned to claim your name and your rightful place in society.”
I frowned. “Now that I think about it, some people might not be convinced of your good intentions. They will gossip about us despite the significant age difference, you know.”
Fenris shrugged. “I will do my best to behave as an eccentric old mage, no longer interested in a pretty young thing like you. It is true some mages are frisky until they are well into old age, but those who are still interested in dalliances generally use glamour to make themselves appear young and attractive. By showing up with white hair and a grizzled face, I will signal to all and sundry that I am beyond such carnal pursuits, and am only interested in scholarship and esoteric matters.” His voice was prim, but a wry smile fleetingly crossed his face. “Believe me, that role will not be hard to mai
ntain. I have had plenty of practice.”
I nodded. That was not unusual—mages lived for centuries. After a time, most of them lost their taste for human passions. “Does that happen to shifters?” I asked. “They live quite long as well—do they eventually grow out of lust?”
“No,” Fenris said. “Judging by my own experience, shifters are much more virile and alive than either humans or mages—they feel the full range of emotions and urges at any age, and far more strongly. That is why they have such a reputation for being emotional and impulsive.”
I arched a brow at that. “I would never use either of those words to categorize you, yet you are a shifter.”
Fenris inclined his head. “I am not the typical shifter,” he admitted. “Most shifters would not have decided to settle in a human town, away from their own kind.”
Indeed, I thought, but did not press the point—our relationship was still new. I had to have faith that Fenris would eventually tell me more about his mysterious past. “Would Yoron ar’Tarnis, the kindly old mage, not have acted as my master?” I asked. “And therefore, I would be expected to have finished my apprenticeship?”
Fenris shook his head. “A formal apprenticeship requires the consent of your guardians. For obvious reasons, we could not obtain that. We will be vague about how much magic you have learned, and we should not claim that you are a trained mage or I am your master.”
“Maybe we should say I’ve only come to you in the last two years or so, when we met by chance,” I suggested, “and that I had been wandering around among humans. That way, you will not look bad for not giving me much training.”
Fenris smiled. “That is an excellent idea. I will introduce myself as your unofficial guardian, and we’ll call the Guild upon our arrival and ask for an audience with the Chief Mage. The Chief Mage of Innarta has a good reputation. Chances are he will give you a fair hearing. With any luck, you’ll be assigned to a different guardian for the remaining fourteen months until you reach your majority.”