CHAPTER 4 #3
Every adult and child walking among us bore some beastly feature. Spiralling horns, a squirrel’s tail, scaled skin. It was an effort not to gape. I couldn’t help but glance at Finnegan’s pointed ears.
“Do all mages have . . .” I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it.
He noticed my gaze and touched his ear. “Features from other creatures? Only in this estate.”
“Why only in this estate?”
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Let’s say you’re not the only one here with a sentence you don’t like.”
His words sank in. “So, everyone in your estate has a sentence? Or does this have to do with Reagan’s sentence?”
Finnegan’s eyes snapped toward me, surprised. “What do you know about Reagan’s sentence?”
I shrugged. “Nothing, but that judge mentioned it.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Right. Maybe you should have a conversation with him and ask.”
“I think I’d rather poke needles into my eyes.”
Finnegan chuckled. “You sound like Gwin.”
“Reagan’s sister?” I asked, glancing through a shop window. “Is she part of the staff? Or a lady?”
His features twitched, as if he controlled his expression.
“No, Gwin doesn’t have noble blood. She’s his adoptive sister.
But she is on the staff. She’s Liege from the city’s guard, a trained battle mage who commands her own squad.
It’s what you might call a . . . soldier in the human lands, I guess.
She responds to Barracus, whom you’ve met.
He’s the Commander of the Guard. They run anything from patrols to capturing people involved in illegal crafts. ”
“The one that is a bit grouchy,” I ventured.
“That one,” Finn confirmed. “Barracus is third-in-command. But I suppose someone who is a hundred and eighty-seven years old cannot be the cheeriest person.”
“One hundred and eighty-seven?” I repeated, brows high.
Finnegan smiled. “Yes. The mageborn have advanced quite a bit in the study of longevity, so our lifespan is around three times that of humans.”
I stifled a surprised noise. “Does that mean Cerridwen is second-in-command?”
“Right. She advises Reagan on everything related to governance.”
He smiled as we stopped in front of a place with a sign reading The Wandering Cup, but before he invited me in, I had to ask.
“You didn’t tell me about Reagan.”
“Because you already know. He’s Mountheim’s Mage Lord.”
“What powers does he have?” I asked, careful to sound casual. Knowledge was the only leverage I might get in a place like this.
Finn made a low sound through his nose.
“Hm. He is the highest authority for this estate and one of the most powerful mageborn rulers of his time.”
Well, great.
“But he did something he wasn’t supposed to,” I added. “Is he dangerous?”
Finn’s mouth pursed to the side. “Is a king from your land dangerous?”
My stomach dropped. “There are no kings anymore, but I hear what you’re saying.”
“We’ll save that for later.”
With that, he pushed the door open, and we stepped into a modest establishment, no different from any common dining place in Ehrfurt, crammed with weathered wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and the low murmur of conversation.
Finnegan strode directly to the counter, greeting a blonde-haired woman I was introduced to as Daria, one of the shop’s owners.
A fox’s tail curled and swept along the floor behind her.
Her age-lined face remained unimpressed until I approached, and her eyes bounced between us, her brows shooting up, as if she noticed I wasn’t the same.
“A human?” she said.
Finn nodded. Daria’s mouth opened slightly. “Onorio, come,” she called to someone at the back of the shop.
“Let’s keep this discreet,” Finnegan said pointedly. “Jane is the Mage Lord’s guest. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
The word guest was a generous euphemism, but I was grateful he didn’t reveal more about my situation.
“I hope you can handle yourself here. Mage lands are not easy for a human,” Daria said.
It didn’t come across as a threat, more like advice. Not that it was comforting.
Finnegan sighed. “This city is, which is where she is staying.”
Daria raised a thin brow, her fox tail twitching behind her. “Do you really think she has nothing to worry about?”
“What should I worry about?” I asked.
But Finnegan didn’t let her respond, his tone shifting. “You’re under Reagan’s protection. That will be known soon.”
Sure. I feel so safe.
We stayed long enough for a warm drink and left shortly thereafter. As we milled through the cobblestone streets, the emissary seemed quieter than before. I observed the city, mulling over a place that I wasn’t meant to see.
“Is there another train station in this city?” I asked, earning a disapproving look from Finn.
“Not close, and not one that will lead you to human territory,” he answered. “Don’t try anything, or you will end up dead.”
So I’ve heard.
For now, this place felt safe. At least on the surface. I could stay here, pretending to be fine with this.
If the woods were indeed the only way back to the station, I needed to know what other creatures lived there and how I would manage to survive them.