The hours dragged on, and yet by the time the pinkish-orange light of sunset began to filter in through the window on my left, I felt none of the usual relief or elation at finally being allowed to leave. Instead, a sense of foreboding filled me at the thought of my lesson with the Chief Mage tonight. I’m sure Magorah, the shifter god, was shaking His head at me from above for my foolishness – I’d wanted the Chief Mage to pay attention to me and I’d achieved that, but I’d also gotten more than I bargained for.
Gee, what else is new?
I thought about dawdling at the Mages Guild a little bit longer – a sure indication of just how much I was dreading tonight’s lesson – but I knew that being late would only make things worse. So instead I carted myself down to the kitchen to grab some food so I would have something in my belly before my training started.
The scent of roasted lamb and freshly baked bread hit my nostrils long before I reached the staircase leading from the foyer down to the kitchen, and my stomach grumbled, redirecting my worries toward a more immediate need – nourishment. Shifters have a higher metabolism than humans and mages, and though that metabolism gives us stronger muscles and faster healing powers, it also means we have to eat a lot. I always kept food in one of the small pouches strapped across my body in case I needed an energy boost, and with the magic lessons on top of everything I was eating more than ever.
My monstrous appetite might have had something to do with why the head cook gave me a dirty look when I walked into the kitchen. I grinned at her, and she shook her head, then ordered one of her juniors to get me some food. A few minutes later, I was sitting at a small table in the corner, wolfing down a whole roasted chicken and a pile of herbed potatoes. I moaned quietly as the juicy flavors saturated my tongue – by Magorah, but the Palace had excellent food.
I could have gone to sit in the dining hall and eat, of course, but I didn’t want to risk running into the Chief Mage yet, and I also wasn’t totally comfortable sitting and talking with the other mages. They all had mixed feelings about me ranging from ambivalent to downright hateful, but there was one thing they all agreed on – I was not one of them. And no matter how good I got as a mage, I never would be. My shifter eyes and emotional attitude would always set me apart from them, even if I did put on a set of mage robes.
As I ate my food, my eyes wandered around the wide, open space of the kitchen, watching the chefs hard at work chopping, sautéing and stewing. The glint of a kitchen knife being raised in the air sent me flashing back to the time I’d snuck down here to grab some food in the middle of the night – my first night in the Palace, actually. A group of guards had found me down here, and had decided to make easy sport of me. I’d managed to defeat most of them, but I’d been starving and depleted of energy, unable to shift, so in the end they’d gotten the upper hand. If Fenris hadn’t intervened, I might have died that night. He’d chased off the guards, then brought me straight to Iannis, who’d healed me.
A hazy image of Iannis’s face looming above me, tight with concern, drifted into my mind, and guilt stabbed me in the chest. I’d never thanked Iannis for his help that night – I rarely thanked him at all, in fact, because I’d been so angry at the injustice of being held captive and threatened with execution for the simple crime of being born. I’d held him personally responsible for all that was wrong in our society, and sometimes I still thought like that. After all, he might not have created the framework in which we functioned, but he was still our ruler, and there were a lot of things wrong that he needed to fix.
All of which takes time.
Sighing, I handed my finished plate to one of the kitchen staff, then headed back up the steps and toward the West Wing. I knew that the Chief Mage had been busy wading through the administrative mess Argon Chartis, the former Director of the Mage’s Guild, had left behind, and that he was strapped for time. Yes, it wasn’t right that he was neglecting my tutelage as a mage, but I couldn’t have it both ways if I wanted him to fix what was wrong in the city.
Maybe, but that’s no reason he can’t give you some time off to go and hunt bounties for the Guild.
I fought against the urge to gnash my teeth, knowing that walking into the training room angry was only going to make this evening worse. But that was the whole crux of the situation – I wouldn’t be so angry about his lack of time to train me if he’d just let me do my job as an Enforcer so I could earn some money.