Chapter 5
Ihurried back to the Mages Guild, intent on cornering Iannis and getting him to give me a useful assignment. But just as I was passing through the reception area, Dira, the front desk receptionist, called my name.
“Miss Baine, there’s a message for you. From an Enforcer Annia Melcott.”
I paused, then veered toward the desk. If Annia was calling me here, it had to be important. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been in a fog of grief over Noria’s decision to join the Resistance, bitter and utterly defeated. I hoped she wasn’t about to do something rash. “What’s the message?”
Dira frowned, reading the message she’d scrawled down when she received the note. “She asked if you could please meet her at your mutual friend’s house. And that it was urgent.”
“Thanks.” I nodded, then hurried down the hall, heading for the finance office.
As I half-expected, most of the finance department’s desks were empty, and the few people who were busy at their desks were mages, with the exception of one elderly human accountant.
I couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped me. Was everyone deserting us?
Noria did.
Pushing that thought out of my head, I veered left, toward the Finance Secretary’s office, and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Sunaya Baine.”
There was a pause. “Come in,” he said eventually.
I pushed open the door, then closed it behind me.
Cirin Garidano, Solantha’s Secretary of Finance, was more striking and fashionable than the other mages of his stature.
Like Iannis, he tended to dress in robes that flattered his broad shoulders and tall frame, and he wore his black hair long, far past his shoulders.
Dark, piercing blue eyes were narrowed in concentration as he tapped out a report on his typewriter with long fingers that flew across the keys.
I felt my approaching heat more strongly at the sight of a handsome male, but firmly pushed the sensation away.
“Isn’t typing reports something you delegate to a lackey?” I asked, leaning my hip against the door.
He glanced up at me, a faintly annoyed expression on his face. “In case you haven’t noticed, Miss Baine, we are in short supply of lackeys at the moment. Did you come in here to criticize my office?”
“No,” I admitted, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I came here because I need to borrow a car.”
His dark eyebrows winged up. “And what makes you think I’m in a position to help you? The Mages Guild doesn’t use cars.”
I rolled my eyes. “Give me a break. I spend enough time around this joint that I can afford to do a little snooping.” My ability to wear illusions was a big help in sneaking into restricted areas, too.
“You’ve got a garage full of them.” I smirked a little at the surprise in Cirin’s eyes.
“Guess you mages aren’t so averse to technology after all, are you? ”
“We mages, Miss Baine, and not as much as we used to be,” he admitted in a cool voice. “After all, we use telephones, typewriters, and dirigibles, don’t we?”
“And apparently vehicles.”
“They are for emergency use only,” Cirin warned.
“After realizing how much of an advantage technology has given humans, Lord Iannis has authorized, and even encouraged, the use of technology in the Guild, though not everyone is in favor of such innovation. Vehicles aren’t the only things he’s collected… but we’ve yet to publicly use them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. It’ll be okay. I know how to drive. It’s not like you guys painted the Mages Guild emblems on your vehicles, have you?”
When Cirin didn’t respond, I groaned. “Seriously?”
“They wouldn’t be official vehicles if we didn’t,” Cirin pointed out. “We had it done recently.”
That explained why I didn’t remember seeing it. “Fine. Then give me a can of paint so I can cover it up. Just let me borrow a vehicle. I can’t go running around on foot with the Resistance out to kill me.”
Cirin sighed. “I can’t give you a car,” he told me. “But there is another kind of vehicle I can give you.”
I perked up. “Oh?”
“This is bullshit,” I grumbled to myself as I pedaled up one of the many very long, very steep hills that Solantha was known for.
I was halfway to the Port now, pushing the bicycle the Finance Secretary had bestowed upon me as fast as I could.
But even though I had extra-strong muscles as a shifter, they weren’t used to bike riding, and certainly not over long distances with steep hills.
A dull ache was starting up in my quads, and it was only going to get worse from here.
At least you’re getting a workout.
I snorted. Yeah, like I really needed one. By Magorah, but I missed my steambike. I wished like hell I’d been able to recover it from Turain, but Danrian’s cronies had probably sold it off to a chop shop weeks ago. I was never going to see my baby again.
You could probably convince Iannis to replace it for you, a little voice murmured in my head.
I clenched my jaw at that idea. I was too proud to ask for that kind of gift from Iannis.
I was already living in his Palace and eating his food, wasn’t I?
I wasn’t going to ask him for money I hadn’t earned on top of it.
No, when this was over and I could start earning money as an enforcer again, I’d buy myself another bike.
For now, I had to deal with this hand-me-down.
It was one of the bikes the guards used to circle the perimeter during their rounds, and since the guards were conspicuously absent, there was an abundance of bicycles available.
Eventually, I made it to the Port, and I cruised down the boulevard, studying the row of large, stone boathouses that marked the entrance to each pier.
The smell of burnt wood still lingered in the air, and I could see wreckage floating in the water – leftovers from the attempted ship robbery the apprentice had mentioned last night.
I finally came to Witches End, and I skidded to a stop as I noticed the entrance to the pier had been barricaded, and was guarded by two stout shopkeepers bearing cudgels. Cautiously, I got off my bike and approached them.
“Hey,” I said, adopting the voice of the acne-covered teenage boy I was pretending to be. “What’s going on?”
The shopkeepers closed ranks, glowering down at me.
“This area is off-limits to all humans and shifters,” the one on the left growled in a thick Pernian accent that was much deeper than Comenius’s.
I recognized him as Caradin, a magical bladesmith who’d set up shop at the Port about a year ago.
I’d been eyeing his wares for a while now, but hadn’t managed to scrape up the coin to buy any as yet.
The man next to him was his son. I’d bet those cudgels they wielded were capable of more than breaking bones and causing concussions.
“Look,” I said, lifting my hand. Fire crackled in my palm, and the two jumped, startled. “I’m not a human. Comenius is a friend of mine, and he called me over here. Can you just let me in to see him? I promise I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“How do we know you’re not using a charm to produce that flame?” Caradin demanded.
I rolled my eyes and lifted my arms overhead. “Search me then, if you’re so suspicious.”
“She’s not, Da.” The son’s eyes glowed an eerie blue as he stared at me, and I had a feeling he was searching me. “She is wearing charms, and an illusion of sorts, but both fire and illusion are being produced by her.”
“She?” Caradin demanded, and I tensed. I wasn’t prepared to drop my illusion, not in broad daylight.
“Da, just let it go,” the man hissed.
They shared a long look, then Caradin sighed. “Very well. You may pass.” He moved his big bulk out of the path. “But if you try to blow up any shops, I’ll have your head.” He lifted his cudgel, and I gaped as it morphed into a short sword right before my eyes.
“Damn,” I muttered as I turned away. I’ve gotta get me one of those.
I walked my bike up the pier, noticing that all the shops were boarded up now.
This was likely in response to the skirmish that went down by the Port last night.
I couldn’t blame the shop owners for being cautious – I would have done the same – but it still made me sad to see the usually thriving shops battened down.
It felt like they were huddling close together, bracing for a storm.
A storm that was already in full swing.
Com’s place was boarded up as well, so I trotted up the side staircase and knocked on the entrance to his apartment. Since he was the only close mutual friend Annia and I had, I figured she had to be here.
The door opened, revealing Comenius. His ash-blond hair was messy, and there were bags under his eyes, as though he’d risen from a sleepless night and hadn’t bothered to brush his hair.
“It’s me,” I said, using my normal voice, though I didn’t drop my teenage-boy disguise.
“Come in, come in,” he said hurriedly, waving me inside.
He shut the door behind me and double-locked it.
I stared at the two strangers sitting on his couch.
One was a tall, lean man in his thirties wearing dark sunglasses and a leather jacket, and the other a petite blonde dressed head to toe in denim.
And they both smelled strongly of magic.
“It’s us, Naya.” Annia’s voice came out of the blonde, and I started. “Annia and Elnos.”
“Elnos?” I swung my gaze back to her companion and goggled. The man I stared at looked nothing like the fresh-faced, gangly young mage who was Noria’s boyfriend. “Why the hell are you two disguised like this? What’s going on?”
“The two of them have decided to infiltrate the Resistance,” Comenius said from behind me. I turned to see him standing near the small, round dining table, arms crossed and an uncharacteristic glower on his handsome features. “Something I am in complete disagreement with, by the way.”