I reeled as the guards pulled me from the cell, two flanking me with their meaty hands clamped firmly around my upper arms, one leading the way, and the other bringing up the rear. Apparently no chances were being taken with me – the guards on either side of me were shifters, and the one up ahead smelled of burnt sugar, indicating that he was one of the low-level mages Privacy Guard employed for situations like this.
“Y-you’re taking me to the Chief Mage now?” I spluttered, digging my heels into the floor like a petulant child. Not that it did me any good as they marched me out into the main hall – the heels of my boots simply screeched against the scuffed tile, drawing the attention of every Enforcer in the hall.
“That’s right.” The mage guard leading the way spoke without turning his head.
“But that’s ridiculous,” I protested as they led me down the front steps and into a horse-drawn carriage waiting at the curb. My heart sank as I saw the Chief Mage’s personal emblem emblazoned on the side of the carriage, a large blue shield with a golden rune composed of a series of interconnected brush strokes – the traditional symbol for magic with a few embellishments added that I imagined were unique to the Chief Mage – painted into the center. “He doesn’t have time to see me now.”
“I wasn’t aware you were so in tune with the Chief Mage’s schedule.” The mage guard arched a brow at me as the two shifter guards escorted me into the cab, which had dark, cushioned seats and was large enough to seat six. I gritted my teeth as all four of them settled into the cab around me, resentment oozing from my pores as the mage guard rapped on the inner roof of the carriage, telling the driver to get moving. The carriage lurched into motion, but I didn’t budge since I was squeezed in between the two hulking shifter guards. I glared up at them both, but they didn’t even deign to look at me – they just stared straight ahead.
Guess a lowly shifter-hybrid like me didn’t merit their attention.
Biting back a sigh, I relaxed against the cushiony seats as much as I was able and settled in for the ride. Solantha Palace was located in the Mage’s Quarter, an affluent neighborhood located in the upper left quadrant of Solantha, a thirty-minute carriage drive from Rowanville. I’d been to the Mage’s Quarter a handful of times on Enforcer business, but I’d never had any cause to visit the Solantha Palace. It was the seat of power for the Mage’s Guild and the residence of the Chief Mage. The idea of stepping behind those magically reinforced castle walls and into the domain of the most powerful mage in Solantha was enough to make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck even on a good day.
As the carriage bumped and jostled over the city streets, I stared out the window and tried to recall what I knew of the Chief Mage. Admittedly, it wasn’t much. He’d only taken up the mantle a few years ago, and I’d been out of town during his inauguration ceremony so I didn’t even get the chance to see him. Dammit, but what was his name?
Iannis ar’Sannin.
Ah. I remembered now – he was from Manuc, a small country thousands of miles from here. I wasn’t sure why he’d come to the Northia Federation or how long he’d been here, but apparently he did the Federation Council some huge favor, which was why they’d appointed him as the Chief Mage of Canalo. There had been a lot of worried talk amongst all the races that he would change things for the worse, but so far the status quo seemed to have held. Since that effectively meant that my taxes still went to supporting a group of selfish mages that didn’t give a rat’s ass about my interests and were a breath away from executing me, I didn’t consider that a good thing.
The cityscape around us changed from small roads between cramped apartment buildings and shopping centers to wide, open streets lined with townhouses. Rows of strange trees with blue trunks and star-shaped flowers that sparkled in the sun drew my eye, but I only scowled at their magically engineered beauty. Similarly, the front lawns of the houses we passed were graced by multi-hued and strangely-shaped shrubbery not designed by Mother Nature. I shook my head at the sight of a poplar tree in another yard whose trunk had been dyed a brilliant fuchsia. Instead of blossoms, tiny golden bells hung from its branches, and as we passed the tree actually waved, sending a tinkling of bells through the air. Just another display of mages flaunting their superiority – except this time they were competing against each other instead of us lowly shifters and humans.