Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles Book 7) Page 10

“I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” I rubbed my flank, which was still smarting—Rylan had gotten me good with a well-placed sidekick. “You’re right. I’m not training enough.”

  Rylan shrugged. “You’ve been focusing on your magical studies, so it’s understandable. You’ve only got so much time in the day. I, on the other hand, spar with the other guards regularly, and during the months you were gone, I’ve been teaching Fenris. He’s surprisingly clumsy for a shifter,” he added, making a face.

  I let out a startled laugh. “For real?” I tried to picture the calm, stoic Fenris in workout gear, sparring with Rylan, and failed miserably. “I have a hard time seeing him outside the library.”

  “Yeah, and that’s pretty strange for a shifter as well.” Rylan pinned me with a frank gaze, and my insides squirmed. “Sunaya, I know there’s something weird going on with Fenris. Ever since that Garrett fellow showed up, his tension has gone through the roof. I tried sparring with him today, and he was just too unfocused and angry.”

  “By Magorah,” I said, feeling absolutely terrible. I hadn’t even given a thought to how Fenris would be coping. Yes, he’d made the decision to leave, and he was probably busying himself with preparations for his departure. But he had to be feeling awfully lonely, and even depressed, as he faced such an uncertain future. I would have to go and visit him tonight, no matter what.

  “Sunaya,” Rylan said gently, as tears sprang to my eyes. “What is going on?”

  I blinked rapidly before the tears could slide down my cheeks. “Fenris’s story isn’t mine to tell,” I said, swallowing against the lump in my throat. I wanted to confide in Rylan, but Fenris was a private person, and damn if I was going to betray his trust. If he didn’t feel safe in confiding in Rylan, he had his reasons. “All I can tell you is that Director Toring is a threat to him, and Fenris plans to leave Solantha as soon as Garrett wraps up this investigation into Thorgana.”

  “Well, shit.” Rylan looked saddened by the news. “We’ve only just become friends, and he’s the only other shifter besides you who knows the truth about me. I’ll miss having him around.”

  “Me too.” I cleared my throat. “In the meantime, I need to keep Garrett busy and away from Fenris, which is pretty fucking stressful because Garrett is like a dog with a really juicy bone.”

  Rylan frowned. “So Fenris is in trouble with the law, but Director Toring doesn’t have enough on him to do anything about it? And you’re hoping to keep it that way?” When I nodded, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I imagine that wherever he goes, he’ll want to lie low, off the government’s radar. I might have a few contacts who can help.”

  “I don’t want you compromising your identity,” I said sharply, sitting up straight. “I’m already losing Fenris—there’s no way I’m losing you too.”

  “I won’t,” Rylan promised, giving me a reassuring smile. Scooting over, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and drew me against him. “I know how to be discreet, cousin. How do you think I’ve managed to sneak out of so many boudoirs unscathed?”

  I snorted at that. “Because you’re a shifter and you have super healing abilities?”

  “Spoilsport.”

  We burst out laughing, and I had to admit it felt really good. Spending time with my cousin had been just the tonic I needed to wash the sour taste of Garrett’s suspicion from my soul. Feeling refreshed, we parted ways to clean up for dinner. My heart was lighter now, and I’d be able to approach this meeting with a clear head.

  Dinner was in the Winter Garden room again, with Iannis, Director Chen, Cirin, Garrett, Pillick, and Kardanor. Over pasta, meatballs, and minestrone soup, Garrett and I briefed the others on our progress—or lack thereof—on the Thorgana case. We discussed our plans for tomorrow, which mainly included tracking down her known associates and questioning them. If we didn’t find a lead soon, Iannis declared, then perhaps Thorgana was not in Solantha after all. Perhaps a new trace would turn up in some other location, prompting Director Toring to move on with his search while the rest of us focused our attention on earthquake preparations.

  Garrett did not look happy about Iannis’s suggestion, and I wondered if he’d dig up some additional pretext to stay on, if push came to shove. But he wasn’t prepared to argue about it now, so he only nodded his agreement.

  The conversation quickly moved to earthquake prep, and Chen and Kardanor briefed us on the project they’d drawn up throughout the day, and the results of the spot inspections done by several mixed teams of mages and engineers. “There are four newish schools and a large hospital in Maintown that are in such bad state that we are ordering them to be shut down right away,” Kardanor was saying. “Pending structural repairs, of course.”

  My eyes widened at the thought of all those children and teachers, suddenly displaced. “What’s going to happen in the meantime?” I asked. “Those kids can’t be pulled out of school for months. Most of them will have working parents. And the hospital patients need to continue receiving care.”

  “We know that,” Chen said patiently. “We have arranged with the Maintown Council to set up temporary facilities in some large cruise ships in the harbor that we have leased for the next six months. It is quite an undertaking, making these vessels suitable as classrooms and hospital facilities, but we are working as quickly as we can.”

  “Good,” Iannis said with a satisfied nod. “I have no doubt you will take care of it, Director Chen.” His violet eyes darkened. “I would like to know what is being done about these neglectful construction companies. Have either of you met with them yet?”

  Director Chen nodded. “I called the CEOs of Mendle and Gorax to my office, giving them no time to meet with each other beforehand. Mr. Makis and I interviewed them together, and they have been informed that their entire personal fortunes and lives are forfeit if anyone comes to harm as a result of their shoddy and deceitful practices. In the meantime, large fines have been assessed against them—the gold will come in handy for the cost of leasing the cruise ships.” Her expression was stony. “I do not think they will presume to get away with such malpractice again.”

  “You should have seen their faces, Miss Baine,” Kardanor said. Unlike Director Chen, he was grinning from ear to ear, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “They were sweating and squirming as if their feet were being held to the fire, babbling promises that they’d do their best to make up for the damage.” He curled his lip at that. “They should be imprisoned, of course, but their machines and personnel are very much needed, so we let them off with a warning for now.”

  “I let them off with a warning,” Director Chen reminded him, her elegant eyebrows arched. “You are merely assisting, Mr. Makis—you do not have any authority.”

  “Of course, Director,” Kardanor said cheerfully, completely unabashed. “And I am more than happy to assist you in any way you might desire.”

  I choked on my soup, and Director Chen’s face flushed. Cirin’s lips twitched, and even Iannis looked amused, though he hid it well. Garrett merely looked annoyed, though I wasn’t sure if that was because of Kardanor’s obvious flirtation, or because he was sitting through a meeting that no longer had anything to do with him.

  “What about the Shiftertown construction companies?” I asked Kardanor, sparing Director Chen the necessity of responding. It was clear she had no idea what to say—the idea of a human male flirting with her was evidently so unthinkable that she didn’t know how to react. “Did the two of you interview them as well?”

  “Yes,” Kardanor said, “but that was a much more pleasant experience. None of them have used systematic fraud and shoddy practices like Mendle and Gorax, and most of their buildings are smaller, which reduces the risk to some extent. Still, they have agreed to donate time and effort toward fixing up those buildings of theirs that aren’t quite up to code. They’ve done a couple of projects in Rowanville as well, and those are mostly acceptable.”

  “That’s great,” I said, trying not to bea
m with pride. I was happy to hear that my fellow shifters had not abandoned their integrity, but not at all surprised. Clan meant everything to us, and the idea of constructing unsafe buildings for our own people was abhorrent.

  As soon as dinner was over, Garrett and his assistant bowed out, retreating to their quarters for the evening. The bastards were probably going to hold a war council of their own. Glad to be rid of them, Iannis and I bid the others a good evening, then went to find Fenris. He’d elected to dine in his own room tonight instead of joining us. With Garrett in the room, he would have had to face probing questions, or else eat from a doggy bowl in wolf form, which he considered demeaning.

  The lingering scent of steak and potatoes met my nose as Iannis and I entered Fenris’s room. We found him sitting in his recliner, a plate on the side table next to him that was clean aside from a leftover bone.

  “Enjoy your dinner?” he asked casually as Iannis and I sat down on the edge of Fenris’s bed—his room was smaller than mine, with only the bed, dressers, closet, and the single chair and table by the fire.

  “As much as can be expected,” Iannis said. He raised his hands and spoke a spell, causing the walls around us to shimmer a faint blue. “There,” he said, lowering his hands. “We can speak safely now.” He turned to me, his expression serious. “Has Garrett learned anything that might put Fenris in jeopardy?”

  “No, not really.” I told them about the brief exchange between Pillick and Janta, and Garrett’s not-so-subtle attempts to question me throughout the day. “All he knows is that Fenris was already a scholar before he came here, and judging by his line of questioning, it’s clear he has no idea about your past, Fenris. He’s just trying to figure out how to use you as leverage against Iannis.”

  “Charming,” Fenris said tersely, his yellow eyes glimmering with banked ire. “This is only more proof that it is better for me to be on my way, as soon as Garrett is gone. I do not want a repeat of this, Iannis,” he insisted when Iannis started to argue. “While you and Garrett were out,” he said to me, “Harron, his assistant, was questioning the Palace staff. He likely knows exactly when I joined the household, only some four weeks after Polar ar’Tollis disappeared.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re going to connect the dots,” I pointed out. “Like I said, I don’t think Garrett has made the leap.”

  “Yet,” Fenris said darkly. “Director Toring is an intelligent man. It will come to him eventually. I can only hope that by the time it does, he is already back in Dara.”

  “Agreed,” Iannis said, and then changed the subject. It was clear Fenris was only going to be gloom and doom about the situation, and there was no point in discussing it further. “I have been debating what to do about Father Calmias. It seems there is no changing his mind—he will continue to preach his pernicious views on shifters and mages, and spread what he believes to be the Ur-God’s true message. While he does not soil his own hands with violence, he has already caused enormous damage with his gospel of hatred and division.”

  “Maybe we really should kill him,” I growled. “To hell with the consequences. At the very least, it’ll buy us some time until they install someone new.”

  “There is another option, though I never considered using it before,” Iannis said slowly, his gaze troubled. “A Tua spell that permanently changes a person’s attitude and personality. I could use it on Father Calmias to make him forget all about his genocidal tendencies, and instead replace them with a message of tolerance and unity.”

  “You’re joking,” Fenris said, looking as astonished as I felt. “I have never heard of such a spell in my life. Is there a mage equivalent?”

  “Not that I ever heard of—and if there were, it would be buried deep down in the forbidden archives somewhere,” Iannis said. “Using magic to alter an individual’s personality like that is highly illegal, and it goes against Resinah’s teachings. The First Mage would never have countenanced such a thing, but the Tua are an amoral race who view humans as their playthings, so they have no such qualms about taking their free will from them. They often use this spell to make a human fall hopelessly in love with them, which is what happened to my grandfather.” His tone had taken on a dangerous edge. “It would be far more ethical to simply kill Calmias, as Sunaya says, than it would be to use this spell on him.”

  There was a long pause as we mulled over the pros and cons.

  “Still,” Fenris eventually said, “if such a change can be permanently and seamlessly effected, it would be worth a try. Father Calmias cannot be allowed to continue to agitate the populace, and killing him would only upset the humans further, so it’s counter-productive. The idea that you have such a spell that could do this…it’s amazing,” Fenris added, shaking his head in admiration. The scholar inside him had come out in full force, the prospect of new knowledge banishing the demons gnawing at him.

  “The suggestion techniques we mages use are far less effective,” Fenris explained to me, adopting his lecturing voice. “They are rarely permanent, and usually produce adverse side effects like stuttering, memory gaps, and cognitive dissonance. His acolytes would suspect us of tampering with his mind if Father Calmias emerged with any of those symptoms, but if his personality could be changed without them, they would have no choice but to accept his change of heart as genuine.”

  “I am still not certain it is the right thing,” Iannis insisted. “There may be far-reaching consequences we are not considering, just as my Tua grandmother did not consider anything beyond her own needs when she ensorcelled my grandfather.”

  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t be alive if she hadn’t done it,” I pointed out. “And that would be a damn shame. No matter how amoral your grandmother’s choice was, good came out of it in the end,” I added with a smile.

  “Very true,” said Fenris.

  Iannis’s jaw flexed, and he looked like he was about to object. I placed my hand over his atop the bedspread, trying to calm him. “This isn’t the same thing at all,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You aren’t doing this for selfish or personal reasons, like your grandmother did. Your aim is to save lives and bring order to our country. That’s a worthy cause, Iannis.”

  “Besides,” Fenris added, “Father Calmias’s pathological hatred can easily be viewed as a sickness—he is certainly not right in the head if he thinks his benevolent Ur-God truly wishes the destruction of all mages and shifters. As a healer, Iannis, wouldn’t you want to cure him if you could?”

  Iannis was silent for a long moment, staring into the fire. “I will ask the First Mage for guidance and sleep on it,” he finally said. “A large part of me agrees with you both, but I cannot make this decision hastily.”

  Maybe not, I agreed silently as we bid Fenris a good night and headed back to our quarters. But he would have to do it soon, now that Father Calmias wasn’t on Prison Isle anymore. If Thorgana could be broken out as easily as she had, it was only a matter of time before Calmias’s own followers decided to rescue him. And it would be a lot better for us if we could hand him over as a changed man, rather than someone fueled by poisonous hate.

  13

  The next morning, right after an early breakfast, Garrett and I left to interview our list of Thorgana’s associates. I’d half considered bringing a carriage around so Rylan could accompany us, but Garrett had seemed eager to use the steambike again, and I didn’t want him to think anything was wrong.

  Our first stop was the Mendle family, who had just recently moved into a new mansion in Maintown. It was a ginormous affair of stone and glass, with a huge, cobblestone paved roundabout in front, and gardens that stretched around the sides and to the back for who knew how far. Heavy silk curtains hung in the six-by-six casement windows spanning the two stories, and several chimneys jutted from the slate roof. Just how much house did these people need, anyway? Of course, most of the guests who regularly attended the Benefactor’s lavish parties lived in opulent style. Maybe they were planning to host similar parties, now that Th
organa was no longer able to do so.

  A wrought-iron gate prevented us from parking in front of the door, so I left my bike at the curb, then flashed my enforcer bracelet at the lone guard manning the small booth outside the gate. He let us in immediately, then picked up a phone to let the house staff know we were coming.

  “The Mendles must be doing very well,” Garrett remarked as we approached the house, skirting around the stone fountain at the center of the roundabout. The leaves on the bushes edging the fountain were turning burnished shades of red and gold. No doubt they grew brilliant flowers during the spring and summer. “This is quite the place.”

  “From what I understand, they just moved in,” I said, trotting up the stacked-stone steps. I reached for the heavy brass knocker, then recoiled with a hiss moments before my fingers brushed against it. “What the fuck?”

  “What is it?” Garrett asked, sounding alarmed.

  “Silver.” I glared at the offending knocker, my fingers twitching toward my crescent knives. Not that I’d be able to cut the knocker off with them, but someone ought to. “Guess shifters aren’t welcome here.”

  “That’s right,” Garrett said, his gaze lighting with understanding. “You are allergic to silver. I completely forgot.” Stepping forward, he grabbed the knocker and rapped sharply on the door.

  I glared at him. “Seriously? That’s it?”

  He turned to me, a puzzled frown on his face. “What? I knocked on the door for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t know why I was acting offended that Garrett wasn’t showing more consideration for me. We weren’t friends. Still, if I pushed emotion aside, it was an interesting tidbit, this knocker. Were the Mendles an anti-shifter family? Had they supported the Resistance in any way?

  Approaching footsteps sounded beyond the door, and it opened before Garrett could say anything else. “Good morning,” a human male dressed in a dark suit greeted us—the butler. He had thinning blond hair and sallow skin, and there were dark circles beneath his pale brown eyes. “How can I help you?”