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“What happened to him?”
“He taught me to control the power in secret, and then he brought me to the Guild. He was so proud of what he’d made that he thought they’d change their rules. They killed him. They’d have killed me, too, but I used what I’d learned and escaped.” She exhaled. “The rest, you know, more or less. It wasn’t long until Haspar found me, and by the time I’d gotten away from him… well, there was nowhere left in the world where I’d be safe.”
“The Mage’s Guild still want you dead?” He was clearly stunned by her story, but she could see him working to take it in, to figure out a way forward.
“Yes. Guild mages don’t work with shifter magic. I’m an abomination.” She was surprised to feel herself smiling. It made her feel oddly proud, how repellent her existence was to the Guild. Her survival was revenge, in a strange way, for what they’d done to Devere. “And I’m proof they lost control of one of their Artificers, which is worse.”
“You’re not a mage,” he said softly, his expression distant. “The argument could be made… I mean, you’re as much a dragon as you are anything else…”
“Callan?” She waved a hand in front of his face, torn between amusement and alarm.
“I have to go,” he said, his eyes finding hers. “The Guild delegates will be here soon. I have to prepare. Kaya—Inota,” he corrected himself, and she felt a strange warmth suffuse her chest at the sound of her true name on his lips. “I … whatever happens when they get here…”
She closed her eyes, feeling the ache return to her chest. “Do what you have to do to keep your community safe,” she said softly. “I won’t implicate you in my crimes, Callan. I’ll go without a fight. It’s the least I can do, after all this.”
And then he was gone. She lay back down on the little bed, feeling utterly drained but at the same time, strangely peaceful. It had felt good, she realized, telling him the whole truth about her life. She wondered, for a moment, how things might have turned out if she’d summoned that courage a little earlier… but the thought made her heart ache too much, and she quickly put it away.
The Guild delegates arrived right on time, as was their habit. At least she felt rested. Over the last few days, in that prison cell waiting for the end to come, she’d gotten more restful sleep than she could remember since before she’d left home for the last time. She was rarely disturbed by her captors, beyond regular deliveries of meals. She didn’t see Callan again, which was more than understandable. She’d done enough damage to him to last a lifetime. But selfishly, she did hope she’d see his face at least once more before the Guild came to take her away.
When they came to get her, she was ready. She’d deliberated over how to present herself to the mages, which face she should wear, but in the end nothing had felt quite right except the face she’d been wearing when she first met Callan. The way she’d looked when she’d told him the whole truth about her, at last. For some reason, it felt like the closest thing she had to a true face, and she smiled a little when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the polished armor worn by the guards who escorted her down the hallways to the Throne Room.
And there they were, standing there in the throne room like her worst nightmare made flesh. Three mages, two of them wearing their hoods over their faces, as was customary—the concealment of identity was a big part of the rituals of the Guild. The third, though, had his hood lowered, revealing the face of a man approaching late middle age. His long, dark beard was shot through with gray, and she could see artifacts braided into its strands. No doubt even more were hidden beneath his robes—there were practical reasons that magic users tended toward oversized, flowing garments.
How long had they been here before she’d been summoned, she wondered? The Queen and her council were all present, seated at the table with unreadable expressions on their faces. Cato was among them—he flashed her the briefest smile, which she was almost too surprised to return. Surely he wouldn’t be endangering his position here by making it seem like he sympathized with her? It was reckless enough for an unsanctioned mage to be present at an audience with Guild representatives in the first place…
“On behalf of the Guild, we’d like to express our formal regret for the hardship this kingdom has gone through at the hands of this unsanctioned mage. We hope some solace can be found in our assurance that she will be prevented from doing any further harm.”
“What do you plan to do with the prisoner?” Queen Lana asked. The leader of the mages turned to look at her, hesitating for a pointed moment before he spoke.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t granted the authority to disclose our disciplinary procedures.”
“Why not?” That was Cato. “Seems like useful information to bring to a negotiation.”
The mage stared Cato down for a long moment. “Does this unsanctioned mage speak with your approval, Your Majesty?”
“My advisors speak their minds,” Lana said, her expression friendly but difficult to read. Inota studied the faces of the dragons at the table, a new suspicion awakening in her, coupled with something that felt dangerously like hope. She’d assumed that this was going to be a simple handover. But now she was looking for it, she could see the veiled frustration on the face of the visiting mage. They were making it difficult for him. Was it possible…? No, she told herself firmly. They were going to hand her over to them. That was a foregone conclusion. The resistance was probably to do with the Guild’s request that Callan be questioned, too.
That subject didn’t come up for another agonizing hour of meandering, circular discussion that frustrated Inota into tuning out. She hadn’t been asked to speak, and she had absolutely no intention of volunteering anything—she knew the Guild well enough to know that anything she said would absolutely be used against her. But when the lead mage spoke Callan’s name, she felt her spine stiffen, and her voice leaped from her throat before she could stop it.
“I have something to say on that subject.”
The mages regarded her coolly. “We don’t require the prisoner’s testimony.”
“I’d like to hear it,” Queen Lana said mildly, and Inota felt a flash of gratitude for the woman that burned almost as brightly as her shame over what had happened in the forest. “You can speak freely while you’re a guest here, Inota.”
“Thank you, Queen Lana,” Inota said softly, sketching a formal bow she’d learned in a court on the other side of the world. “I’m not interested in speaking in my own defense, but in Callan’s. I want to make it categorically clear that any assistance he offered me, he offered in good faith and with no knowledge that he was helping a fugitive.”
“Ignorance of the law is no excuse,” the leader said dismissively.
“Callan is far from ignorant of the law,” she retorted, feeling her jaw tighten. “But thanks to me, he was ignorant of reality itself. Every step of the way, I used all the power at my disposal to deceive him and lie to him. Within the reality I constructed for him, Callan’s choices and behavior were nothing but morally and legally upstanding. If you intend to punish him for what he did, that punishment should fall on my shoulders, not his. I say this for your benefit too, Queen Lana,” she said softly, glancing back at the woman, who was listening intently. “You’ve seen what I’m capable of. You of all people would understand how gifted a manipulator I am.”
The lead mage frowned. “Queen Lana?”
“Inota took part in an attack on our kingdom in the recent past,” Queen Lana allowed. “Her abilities are as impressive as she claims. For our part, we’re satisfied that Callan is guilty of no wrongdoing.”
Inota closed her eyes for a moment, fiercely grateful to know that Callan would see no punishment from his kingdom, at least. And maybe Queen Lana would speak to the Dean on his behalf. That only left the mages to deal with… but Inota’s heart sank at what the leader said next.
“Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the Mage’s Guild. We have our own disciplinary procedures to follow, and we must insist that both fugitives are surrendered to us for questioning.”
