Betrayed by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #5)(25)

“So how are we doing this?” I asked quietly. “Are you asking all the questions, or are we taking turns?”

“I would prefer to take the lead,” Iannis said, “but as your nose can determine whether or not he speaks truth or falsehood, you can intervene when you sense a weakness. As a human, he won’t be able to tell if we are truthful, and he will already be predisposed to expect the very worst of mages or shifters. That may help us intimidate him.”

The door opened, and two guards led the prisoner in. Doctor Mitas was a middle-aged, lean man with dark brown hair, round, wire-rimmed spectacles, and a handlebar mustache that gave him a respectable air, at odds with the black-and-white striped prisoner uniform he wore. His thin wrists were weighed down by heavy manacles. Nevertheless, he kept his shoulders straight and his chin high, and regarded us with a haughty look as he was guided none too gently into the chair across from us. The guards left us alone, but said they would be right outside, within calling distance.

“Good evening, Doctor Mitas,” Iannis said pleasantly, once the door had shut behind them. “I am Chief Mage Iannis ar’Sannin, and this is my apprentice, Sunaya Baine.”

“I know who you are,” Doctor Mitas said in a cultured, snooty voice. His bird-like nose twitched as he regarded me, and his lip curled. “A Chief Mage and a hybrid, set to be wed. What a strange world we live in, don’t you think?”

“Some might consider such a match to be progress,” Iannis pointed out. “The union of a shifter and a mage is a step in the direction of equality amongst the races.”

“Pah!” The doctor’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. “Perhaps, if one agreed that equality between the races was possible. But I do not. The illegitimate mage regime must be overthrown if humans are to regain their rightful position in this world.”

“How about shifters?” I asked, curious to know if he ascribed to Father Calmias and Thorgana’s genocidal views. “Are they to be eradicated as well? Or do you believe that they have an equal place in society?”

Doctor Mitas’s sniffed. “I don’t believe you dragged me from my cell to discuss my views on shifters.”

“Indeed we did not,” Iannis said, his voice growing stern. “We came to ask you about disease-spreading substances the Resistance is manufacturing.”

The doctor’s stare did not waver. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lie,” I mentally told Iannis, though it was obvious anyway.

Iannis said nothing for a long moment, while the doctor’s gaze slid away and fixed on a dent in the metal table.

“This is a waste of time,” I said in a bored voice. “This guy looks like a minion, the kind nobody would trust with confidential details. He probably knows nothing useful about the origin of the sickness.”

A tiny smirk lifted the corners of the prisoner’s mouth.

“Is that so?” Iannis said sternly.

“As I said, I don’t know anything.” The doctor sounded downright smug now. Iannis and I exchanged a glance.

“For all we know, what he used was nothing special, just a garden-variety poison,” I declared, hoping the doctor would not know Iannis himself had healed the Minister. “Does this guy look intelligent enough to even know what he was doing? Curing shingles or ear infections is probably more his speed.”

Dr. Mitas shifted in his chair, and I held back a grin as my nose detected a strong sense of indignation from him. “I object to being insulted by a shifter!” he insisted, his eyes blazing at me. “One who hasn’t the remotest idea what she’s talking about.”

“Then prove her wrong,” Iannis said pointedly. “Tell us where you got the substance used to make the Minister sick.”

“Did the substance arrive via mail?” I asked while he was still off-balance.

“No!” I could smell the lie. “That is, I have nothing to say on the subject.” He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

I smirked, getting in his face by leaning forward and invading his personal space. My sensitive nose picked up the cold sweat erupting on his neck. “I suspect it came from the Northwest.”

Panic flashed in his eyes, confirmation enough for the moment.

“Perhaps from the town of Wacoma?” Iannis asked softly.

Dr. Mitas jerked. “Why are you asking me, if you already know?”

“Have you ever been there personally?” I followed up.

“No.” He sullenly glared at me.

“Truth,” I told Iannis. Aloud, I said, “But you know what is being produced there, and for what purpose?”

Though he did not reply out loud, it was easy for me to read him. “He knows,” I told Iannis, out loud. “Does it not trouble your conscience as a medical man, Dr. Mitas, to be involved in wholesale killing? I would not want to be one of your patients, if you are so careless of human life.”

He bridled at the accusation. “My patients are human. I do not consider mages or shifters to fall under my medical oath. My loyalty is to humanity, and I’m proud of my allegiance to the Resistance.”

Ha! It looked like the dam was finally breaking.

“The Resistance?” I jeered, curling my lip at him. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve chosen the losing side, buddy. Now that the Benefactor is in our custody, your cause is doomed. I’m sure she would have no qualms about selling out her comrades in order to lessen her sentence.”