Chapter 3
“Very good,” Fenris said, checking over the worksheet I’d handed him. “You are getting the hang of conjugating your verbs, though you still have a way to go. Verbs are one of the most important aspects of learning Loranian, as spellcasting is almost exclusively done with commands.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, for once actually pleased with my progress.
I’d spent the last two hours with Fenris in my sitting room, where he gave me my Loranian lessons daily.
If I was going to become an accomplished mage, I had to master the language—a formidable task considering most mages started early and were fluent by the time they started their apprenticeships.
To make matters worse, Loranian was difficult, the words hard to pronounce, and a single mispronounced word or phrase in a spell could result in disastrous consequences.
“Very good!” the ether parrot squawked as he materialized on my shoulder, and I sighed.
The parrot was a constant reminder of that very problem—I had incorrectly pronounced a word when trying to conjure an ether pigeon, and instead got a parrot, who insisted on popping in and out of my life at odd moments, and repeating whatever words and phrases were being spoken at the time.
“You’re a real nuisance, you know that?” I scolded, reaching for him.
I mimed scratching the top of his head with my fingers, and even though they passed through his glowing head, he closed his eyes and bobbed his head against my hand.
Could it be that he actually enjoyed it?
How strange. I didn’t think he could feel it when I touched him, considering he’d been unruffled when I’d thrown pillows at him or swiped at him with my claws.
The phone on my side table rang, and I jumped, then glared at the thing.
Who could possibly be calling me? I’d only recently had the phone installed, and I wasn’t aware that anyone other than Iannis, Fenris, Director Chen, and my social secretary had the number.
None of them would think to bother me in the middle of a lesson, so it had to be someone else.
Maybe getting a phone in my suite was a mistake.
“Oh, go on,” Fenris said with a sigh, closing the textbook on his lap. “We’re about done for the day anyway.”
Nodding, I picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Naya.” Comenius’s voice sounded strained as it came through the line. “Can you please come to the shop as soon as you have a free moment? There is something urgent I must speak to you about in person.”
“Sure.” I blinked, wondering what could be so important that Com couldn’t just tell me over the phone. “You’re not in danger or anything, are you? Do I need to bring help?”
“No, no,” Comenius assured me hastily. “Just bring yourself.”
“All right. Be there in a few.” Frowning, I hung up the phone, then glanced over at Fenris. “Guess it’s a good thing we’re ending off now.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” Fenris asked, concern in his yellow wolf-shifter eyes. “Comenius has been a great help recently. If there is anything I can do to return the favor, I would be glad to assist.”
I hesitated, then shook my head. “He said to just come on my own. I think it’ll be fine, but if I do need you, I’ll call.”
I grabbed Rylan, who was once again Lanyr, and we headed for Witches End on my steam bike. Anxious to know what Comenius needed, I put on a little more speed, the steam engine shrieking behind me and belching out clouds of smoke into the summery late-afternoon air.
“Thanks for arranging that reunion with my mother,” Rylan said, using mindspeak as it was impossible to talk around our helmets or over the roaring wind.
“I’ve wanted to let her know I was all right, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it without the risk of compromising my identity.
I really appreciate you giving me the chance to reconnect with her. ”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “I know that if it was my mother, I would want to.”
Rylan was silent for a moment. “Aunt Saranella would be proud if she could see how far you’ve come, Naya. It’s really quite incredible, the strides you’ve made despite society’s disdain toward hybrids.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” My throat tightened at the mention of my mother, and I swallowed hard.
It had been so long since she’d passed away, over a decade, but it was still difficult not to ache when I was reminded of the loss.
She’d been my champion, my protector, and my best friend.
When she’d died, my life had become hell.
At least until Roanas had taken me in, and even then, it was still tough.
If not for his kindness, as well as the kindness of our neighbors, I wasn’t sure what would have become of me.
At least you’re not alone, I told myself. Roanas and my mother might be gone, but I had Iannis and my friends. The circle of people I could trust and rely on had grown quite a bit lately, and I really didn’t want for anything at this point in my life.
But that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right that so many others still suffered under the unjust laws regarding magic.
How many magic users were forced to hide their talents and live in constant fear for the rest of their lives?
The system Chief Mage Logar was testing in Parabas was a good start, but it was far from perfect.
I’d been thinking on this problem for a while, and I had some ideas on how to improve on the system, if only I could get the chance.
I made a mental note to remind Iannis about the issue and insist on having my say. If I wanted change, I was going to need to start on my own turf.
Speaking of change, Mafiela definitely seemed to be softening up.
I was glad she had made up with Rylan and was trying to fix her relationship with me.
But how long would that last? The three of us were equally stubborn, and Mafiela was used to having everybody bow to her will.
It was only a matter of time before heads butted again.
Even so, she did love Rylan, and had promised to keep his identity a secret.
Revealing it would be dangerous right now, as Resistance supporters, and Resistance members still at large, would resent him for changing sides.
He would become a target, as I had when I’d publicly defied them, and they would want to make an example of him.
My grip tightened on the handlebars as a wave of protectiveness surged through me. I would not lose another family member, not for any reason. If there were any other threats from the Resistance, I would personally make sure to wipe them out. No matter the cost.
I turned a corner and found myself on Market Street, a wide boulevard where vendors set up tents on either side and offered their wares.
I slowed my speed a little due to the increased foot traffic, and waved to a shifter child who was staring at my steam bike with stars in his big blue eyes.
I remembered my own awe and envy when I’d first seen an enforcer tearing down the street on a steam bike.
As soon as I was old enough, I’d scraped and saved every last penny to buy my own.
“Sunaya, watch out!”
Rylan’s sharp voice jerked me from my memories.
I whipped my head back around to see a flaming object the size of my fist hurtling directly toward us.
The wards on my bike flared to life, creating a red shield that enveloped us, and it sent the object careening toward one of the tents.
Citizens screamed, and I slammed on my brakes and flung my hand out at the same time.
Water gushed from my palm as I shouted a Word, extinguishing the fiery missile before it could hit the tents—they were close enough together that if one caught on fire, the whole street would burst into flames.
Unfortunately, the speed at which I’d stopped made it impossible for me to stay on my bike and control the spell, and I went flying over my handlebars.
Instinct took over, and I tucked and rolled across the asphalt, saving myself from broken bones.
The impact of my body against the hard ground still hurt like hell though, and I knew I’d have some colorful bruises if I’d been human.
“Got ya!” a man crowed as he hurled himself at me. My eyes widened at the sight of the silver dagger in his hand, and I rolled to the side before he could impale me with the nasty object.
“Like hell you do!” Rylan snarled, grabbing the man by his collar and hauling him back.
The guy was tall, beefy, and had a good fifty pounds on Rylan, but Rylan’s superior shifter strength allowed him to fling my attacker into a wall.
The paint cracked beneath the force of the blow, and the man sagged to the ground with a groan, his head lolling forward.
“Are you all right?” Rylan asked, helping me to my feet.
“I’m fine.” My heart was jackhammering in my chest, and my shoulder was a bit sore, but the pain would pass quickly enough. Once I was on my feet, I yanked my helmet off so I could suck in a good breath, and get a better look at my assailant. When I did, my mouth dropped open.
“Manson?” I asked. “Is that you?”
The man struggled to lift his head. His eyes were glazed, and blood was seeping from his hairline and down over his brow—he must have cracked the back of his head open against the wall.
“How d’you know my name?” he slurred, squinting at me as the blood began to trickle into his eyes. He wiped at it with the sleeve of his work shirt, and I felt a twinge of pity.
“We worked—” I cut myself off, remembering that Manson wouldn’t know me.
He and I had volunteered at the Maintown hospital together for a brief time during the Uprising, and it had been he who’d invited me along to see Father Calmias preach at the Maintown Ur-God temple.
But he had known me as Brandt, the name I’d given myself since I’d been disguised as a human male at the time.
He hadn’t known he was actually working with Sunaya Baine.
“Never mind.” I dragged a hand through my hair and looked around.
The street had completely cleared, aside from the vendors huddled underneath their tents who were glancing fearfully toward us.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, attacking me in a public place like this?
You could have hurt a lot of innocent people! ”
“I would have killed only you, if not for your filthy magic,” Manson growled as Rylan approached him.
He grabbed another knife from his boot and tried to stab Rylan, but the strike was unsteady, and Rylan didn’t have much trouble knocking the knife away.
He let it clatter to the ground, untouched, as he pushed the man facedown onto the hard surface.
I approached with my handcuffs. “That’s real comforting,” I said, sarcasm thick in my voice as I helped Rylan restrain him.
“I don’t remember your name coming up on the list of known Resistance members, so what the hell is this about?
You can’t mean to tell me the Resistance put you up to such a foolish attack. Even they’re not that stupid.”
“No, but clearly you are,” he said. I tightened the restraints in response to the insult, and Manson grunted. “Word is that you’re the reason Father Calmias is locked up on Prison Isle. Did you really think you could get away with defying the will of the Ur-God?”
“If this is the best the Ur-God could do, then I don’t have anything to fear at all,” I sneered, pressing my boot into Manson’s back to keep him down.
I tapped my enforcer bracelet to activate it, then called for backup so Manson could be hauled away.
Hopefully they’d get here fast, because I couldn’t go anywhere until they’d detained the homicidal bastard.
“Bitch!” Manson struggled beneath my boot, but it was no use.
Blood matted the back of his head, and from the way he moved, I could tell at least one rib was broken.
He wasn’t going anywhere. “I may not have succeeded today, but there are plenty more who will come after you. Your blasphemy will not go unpunished.”
I sighed. “What else is new?”