Chapter 9
“So,” Garrett said as he slathered cream cheese and lox onto his onion bagel at breakfast the next morning. “Do you have any idea what Thorgana may be planning, Sunaya? You have spent more time with her than I—what sort of revenge would she be plotting?”
I was silent for a moment as I chewed on my mouthful of bacon, considering.
“She’s not one for silent strikes in the night,” I finally said, reaching for my glass of orange juice.
“She’ll want to make a big splashy statement with her strike, and take out as many mages as possible.
Shifters, too, if she can, but mages are her priority. She’d destroy all of us if she could.”
“Do you think she still has any of those dangerous viruses?” Pillick asked.
He’d ordered steak and eggs, and I’d done my best to avoid enviously eyeing his plate.
“I know the labs in Osero and Garai have been destroyed, but some of their products may have been shipped out before you got there. She might have stashed them in other locations.”
“She did have some deadly concoction around her neck when we captured her,” I said, a chill running down my spine as I remembered the thick, bright red smoke that had exploded from the shattered vial.
Iannis had contained it before it could touch us, but a sense of wrongness had pervaded my being at the sight of that stuff.
I knew if it had touched us, we would have died.
“I sincerely hope that she doesn’t have more, but that would be wishful thinking. ”
“Indeed,” Garrett agreed, his golden-brown eyebrows drawing together. “It’s a pity Lord Iannis wasn’t able to collect a sample of it to study.”
I ignored the subtle dig, and instead launched into a discussion of our plans for the day.
We agreed that visits to the Enforcers Guild and the Shiftertown Inspector were necessary, to enlist their assistance and offer bounties for useful information.
We also decided to visit the Herald and the Shifter Courier, and question Thorgana’s known associates.
If there was time left in the day, we would take a trip to Prison Isle and interview the few high-level Resistance members languishing there who had worked with her personally.
“This is a good start,” Garrett said, scanning the list of names I’d compiled of those I believed to be part of Thorgana’s social circle, “but a woman of Thorgana’s status would have more friends and associates than this.
We should pass by the library and check the archives of any society magazines that would have reported on her many parties. ”
My shoulders tensed at the mention of the library, but I only nodded. “That’s a good idea. I can go ahead and do that, then meet you at the Enforcers Guild a little later.”
“Nonsense,” Garrett said, waving his hand. “I’ve a fondness for libraries, and we’ll get through the task faster if all three of us work on it together.”
My stomach sank—I’d hoped I could find a way to stall them, so I could get to Janta first. But Garrett was chomping at the bit to get going, and he was right—it really didn’t make sense for us to split up right now.
My appetite gone, I finished up the few morsels left on my plate, then forced myself to escort Garrett and his assistant to the library.
As we passed the main entrance lobby, a small commotion at the front door caught my attention, and we paused.
My eyes widened briefly in surprise as four mage guards brought in an old man dressed in clerical robes.
He’d lost a little weight, his white hair was thinner, and there were circles beneath his eyes, but there was no mistaking him—it was Father Calmias, brought back from Prison Isle.
“How interesting,” Garrett said, his eyes gleaming as he studied the prisoner. He would recognize him from the photos in the press—articles demanding his release appeared nationwide, almost every day. “That such an old, frail-looking human could be the cause of so much trouble.”
“You have no idea,” I growled under my breath as I watched the guards herd Father Calmias past us.
Our eyes clashed, and he lifted his chin, somehow managing to look down his nose at me despite the heavy manacles dragging at him.
As if I were the scumbag who’d preached violence and genocide.
“Iannis is going to interview him this morning.”
“That is something I wouldn’t miss for the world,” Garrett said. To my supreme annoyance, he turned to follow Father Calmias and his escort. “Harron, you and Miss Baine can go on to the library without me. I will meet you later to go to the Enforcers Guild.”
“Yes, sir,” Pillick said, and if he was annoyed at being left behind, he didn’t show it. The two of us continued on to the library, and the tension in my gut grew heavier with each step of the way.
Maybe Janta won’t be there today, I thought fervently as we approached the library doors. Tinari could have gotten sick, and she might have had to stay home with her. Not that I would wish that on the little girl, but she would recover from a cold. Fenris would not recover from an execution.
Unfortunately for me, not only was Janta in the library, but so was Tinari, the sweet little girl who’d been rejected by her human parents when she’d tested positive for magic.
Janta was quietly talking with a mage who was seated at one of the tables, piles of old tomes obscuring much of him, but she straightened up as soon as we came in.
Tinari, who was comfortably curled up in a corner with pillows, blankets, and a stack of books, waved cheerfully to me.
But her smile immediately dissipated at the sight of Pillick, and she ducked her head back down behind the leather-bound book she was reading.
I would have to find some time to talk to her later.
“Sunaya,” Janta said warmly, coming to greet us. “What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Janta.” I smiled, pleased with the genuine happiness in her tone.
Janta had been coolly professional when we’d first met, but as time had gone by, we’d become friends and allies.
“This is Mr. Harron Pillick, from the Department of Federal Security.” Though my smile didn’t waver, I did my best to convey a warning look with my eyes.
He’s not trustworthy, I tried to say without speaking, and Janta’s eyes briefly flickered before she nodded ever so slightly.
“Mr. Pillick, this is Janta Urama, our Head Librarian. She provided invaluable help in identifying Thorgana Mills as the Benefactor.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Pillick said, inclining his head. He sounded as if he meant it, but then, Janta was a fellow mage. He had no reason to look down on her.
“Mr. Pillick and I are here to look at the magazine archives,” I said, before Pillick could get in a word about Fenris.
Lowering my voice, I briefly explained about our investigation into Thorgana.
“We’re specifically looking for high-society magazines that would have reported on her parties and particular friendships. ”
“I can certainly help you with that,” Janta said, a note of disdain entering her voice.
“I used to believe that woman made a career out of throwing parties. Of course, I know better now,” she said as she led us back to the magazine archives, “but I still find it hard to change my image of her as a vapid socialite whose only purpose in life was to spend her father’s money. ”
I wish that was all Thorgana was, I grumbled to myself as we began searching through the drawers full of magazines. Luckily, they were organized by publication date and title, but finding the ones we wanted was still a time-consuming task.
“Miss Urama,” Pillick said in a faux-casual tone as we sorted through the magazines, “I had the pleasure of meeting the resident shifter scholar, Fenris, last night. I assume the two of you are well acquainted?”
“He spends much of his time here,” Janta said, her tone carefully neutral. “And often comes to me when there is some obscure reference he has trouble tracking down. So yes, we are acquainted.”
“How long has he been studying magical theory here?” Pillick asked. “It seems like such an unusual occupation for a shifter.”
“I’m a shifter, and I study magical theory,” I said coolly.
“Yes, but you are also a mage,” Pillick said dismissively. “Fenris, on the other hand, cannot actually use any of the magic he studies, which is why I find his interest so curious.”
“He has been studying it the entirety of the three years he’s been here,” Janta said, interrupting us, “but it was obvious to me from the very start that he was already quite advanced. The esoteric titles he was asking for when he first came here, plus the level of knowledge he regularly exhibits in our conversations, indicate he must have been studying the subject for decades.”
“I see.” Pillick looked a little disappointed, but I wasn’t about to feel relieved.
Janta had done well, steering Pillick away from the idea that Iannis had been teaching Fenris magic, which wasn’t true anyway.
But knowing that Fenris had already been studying magic for decades might push Pillick and Garrett toward the truth—that Fenris and Polar were one and the same.
I was banking on the knowledge that such a concept would be completely outlandish to them; that would hopefully keep them from going down that path for as long as possible.
Pillick attempted to pry more details about Fenris’s former life out of Janta, but she deflected his questions easily by saying that Fenris was a very private person.
As we carried our stacks of magazines back to the common area so we could sit them on one of the tables and begin sorting through them, I noticed Tinari was still in the corner, her nose buried in that same leather-bound tome she’d hidden behind earlier.