“Sir,” the Director protested, though I wasn’t sure whether he objected to removing my shackles or the fact that the Chief Mage wasn’t calling for my head. But a single frown from the Chief Mage silenced him.
“Very well,” he sighed, coming forward to remove my shackles. I held my wrists out to him with a cheeky grin, and he glared at me as he passed a hand over them, muttering some kind of incantation. The shackles glowed briefly before they dropped from my wrists into his outstretched hand. “Don’t think this is some kind of vacation, Miss Baine. You will be brought to account for your actions soon enough.”
I smirked as he and Elgarion escorted me out of the room to the guards waiting in the hall beyond. Maybe that was true, but I had another day to live, and that was good enough for me. The longer I stayed alive, the greater my chances of escape. And once I was out of this forsaken place, I could solve the poison murders and join the Resistance to overthrow the mages once and for all.
Chapter Six
I’m not sure why I expected to be led to a five-star chamber instead of a sparse tower room with rough-hewn furniture and iron bars fitted over the single window. Maybe it was because every single room I’d seen in this palace was dripping with wealth and grandeur, and I assumed they could have spared one of those rooms for me. But in any case, there I was, twiddling my thumbs as I sat on my narrow mattress, wondering what I was supposed to do with myself now.
At least I have a nice view, I thought sullenly as I gazed out at the glittering bay. My eyes followed one end of the Firegate Bridge to the other, the metal, which was enchanted to look red, contrasting starkly against the pale blue sky. A mirror to the Bay Bridge on the other side –though that one lacked the gorgeous coloring – it was the pride and joy of Solantha, a feat created through a combination of magic and human engineering, and proof that humans and mages could work together to create things if they really wanted to.
If only mages thought that way all the time, I mused. But they only collaborated with humans when it served their purpose, and from what I’d heard, they’d only collaborated on the bridges because a human engineer had brought up the project and designed the schematics. The long-lived mages were the opposite of innovative, and would have never undertaken such a project without human involvement.
Shaking off my melancholy thoughts, I returned my attention to the beauty of the bridge itself. My eyes traced its sleek line all the way down to the other side, then traveled further along the coast where a small island rested smack dab between the two bridges.
Forget the view, I thought to myself, shuddering a little. At least I’m not over there. That little spot of land was Prison Isle, where Solantha’s convicts were sent to serve their sentences. I’d gone over there once, to question a prisoner regarding a bounty I was chasing, and the memory of the heavy scent of depression combined with filth and squalor suddenly made me appreciate my little room. Sure, it was basically a closet with a bed and a dresser inside it, but it was a hell of a lot safer and cleaner than any of the cells on Prison Isle.
My stomach growled, calling attention to the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything since that sandwich Talcon had given me. I frowned, wondering where I could find the kitchen. Elgarion had informed me that I had free run of the palace and could go into any room that wasn’t locked, but he hadn’t given me a map or explained where anything was. Hell, I didn’t even know where the bathrooms were around here, which would be great to know because I could really use a shower. My hair was getting a little greasy, and I still smelled of alcohol, ash and old sweat.
Stripping off my leather jacket, I left it atop the dresser and wandered down the spiral staircase in my tank top and leather pants. It didn’t take me too long to find a servant, who directed me to the bathroom in the East Wing with a beady eye and a warning not to linger too long.
I quickly found out from peeking into a few of the rooms that the East Wing was where all the nice, well-behaved people got to stay, as it was practically brimming with sumptuous bedrooms. Which must have been why Snappy over there had told me to make it fast, because I wasn’t a guest, but a glorified prisoner.