He frowned. “Psycho assassin-guards?”
“She’s referring to the guard who stabbed her in the shoulder with his sword.” Fenris’s voice echoed in my head, and I assumed Iannis’s too, by the way he glanced over at Fenris.
“I already have one of my staff looking into the matter,” the Chief Mage said dismissively. “Rest assured it will not happen again.”
“Forgive me if I’m less than assured,” I said sarcastically, folding my arms across my chest.
The Chief Mage frowned. “You doubt my ability to keep you safe?”
“I doubt your ability to keep anyone safe,” I challenged, taking a step forward. “Instead of taking an interest in lowering the crime rate in this city, you’re up here enforcing your cruel, antiquated policy against me. Forgive me for not giving you my vote of confidence.”
To his credit, the Chief Mage didn’t react to my aggression; he stood his ground and regarded me with a disapproving frown. “It’s my job to ensure the laws that protect our country are enforced in Solantha,” he said sternly. “Uncontrolled magic wreaked havoc on this country during the Conflict. It is necessary to regulate the use and existence of magic, so as not to have a repeat experience.”
I scoffed at that old party line. “That’s just an excuse you mages use not to share power and influence with anyone else. If you’re so worried about people like me running wild with our magic, why don’t you set up a state-funded program to train us?”
“The amount of resources needed –”
“Don’t even try to tell me there isn’t enough gold.” His eyes widened angrily as I cut him off. I knew I should probably be afraid, but I was too riled up to care. “Magorah knows you and everyone else in the Mage’s Quarter are swimming in it. The real problem is that not one of you actually cares enough to take the time to train us, do you? That’s why you only give us the choice of having our magic wiped, or execution, whenever you find one of us out.”
The Chief Mage’s violet eyes glittered. “It’s a logical approach,” he said stiffly.
“It’s a cruel, heartless approach.” I took another step forward, into his personal space, and his nostrils flared as he looked down his long nose at me. The hair on my arms stood up as magical energy sang through the air, and for the first time real fear crackled through my nerves. But I couldn’t back down, not now. “That’s hardly any choice at all, since nearly all the people who go through the magic wipe end up with permanent mental damage. By the time the mages who perform the wipe are finished, most of the victims would have been better off dead.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “One of my childhood friends, Tanya, failed the test when she was just twelve years old. She was from a human family, and her magical ability was weak, so her family chose to put her through the magic wipe. By the time they were done with her, she could hardly remember her own name, and to this day her family has to care for her because she can’t function in society well enough to hold a job. So don’t tell me how necessary these oppressive laws are. You’re worse than murderers, all of you!”
“How dare you!” the Chief Mage snapped, his cheeks coloring. My eyes widened as he took a step toward me, the folds of his robes brushing against me. Magical energy crackled around us, little blue-white bolts that wriggled like worms in the air. “Your accusations border on the ridiculous; magic wipes don’t cause mental damage when done properly. Your lies –”
He stopped mid-sentence as Fenris, who at some point had shifted to human, laid a hand on his arm. “She’s not lying, Iannis.”
The magical energy around us faded, and I let out a small sigh of relief as the Chief Mage turned his deadly glower from me so he could look at Fenris. “She has to be.”
Fenris shook his head. “Director Chartis handles most of these reports, and it’s unlikely he would have passed anything like that along to you,” he told Iannis. “I researched this recently, and from what I understand, approximately three quarters of all magic-wipes result in permanent damage to the subject.”
The Chief Mage was silent for a several seconds. “Seventy-five percent?” His voice was dangerously frigid now. “That’s intolerable. I’ve performed several magic wipes myself – any properly trained mage should be able to do it without causing permanent harm. Who is performing these spells?”
Fenris eyed him warily. “You’d have to ask Director Chartis. But if I were to guess, it’s likely low-level mages, or even apprentices.”