“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?”