Scorched by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #7)(53)

I scowled, tempted to turn him away. But my heirloom ring remained cool to the touch, a signal that he meant me no harm, and besides, I was curious as to what he had to say.

“Make it quick,” I said, opening the door. “I was about to take a nap.”

Garrett stepped inside, barely bothering to glance at me. He sank into one of my armchairs, looking absolutely defeated, and dropped his head into his hands, startling me. I’d seen him angry plenty of times, but never despondent. What was going on?

“I thought you’d be happier,” I said, sitting down on the couch, “now that Thorgana has been taken care of, and the Magic Eraser found. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Aside from arresting Iannis and Fenris, I thought bitterly, but I didn’t say it aloud.

“Yes,” Garrett admitted, lifting his head. “But I cannot help thinking that if we had gone inside the Mendle Mansion that day instead of leaving them alone, we would have apprehended Thorgana sooner. Poor Harron wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed, his magic stripped from him.”

“Oh.” My insides squirmed with guilt—I’d completely forgotten about Pillick. “I’m sorry about your loss, Garrett,” I said after a moment of tense silence, in which I was certain Garrett was harboring blame-filled thoughts about me. “But we have no idea what would have happened if we’d entered the mansion that day, especially since we didn’t even know about the danger. It’s very possible the Magic Eraser would have stripped both of us of our magic while we were waiting to talk to Mrs. Mendle. We could very well have ended up on those hospital beds instead of your assistant.”

Garrett’s lips thinned. “I suppose we’ll never know either way.” His eyes glittered with a combination of self-loathing and grief that made him more human than I’d ever seen. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him,” he finally said. “He will no longer be able to work in my office now that he is not a mage.”

“Why the hell not?” I asked, my annoyance rising. “It would be ridiculously unfair of you to fire him, especially since he was injured on duty.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Garrett threw his arms up in the air. “I just don’t know what to do with him!”

“Here’s a thought,” I said, suppressing my dislike of Harron and forcing myself to be objective. “Why don’t you create an elite squad of human agents and put Harron in charge of them? The biggest problem our country is facing, as evidenced by how easily Thorgana was able to turn humans and shifters to her cause, is that you mages keep looking down at the other races as inferior, excluding them from important positions even though this is their country, too. Harron might not have his magic anymore, but he still has all his knowledge, and his nose for scandal.” Garrett opened his mouth, but I kept talking, my enthusiasm growing for the idea. “It might be easier for a human unit to liaise with the various Enforcers Guilds across the Federation than for mages. Remember how Captain Skonel reacted to you when we visited him? And speaking of sharp noses, why not have a shifter unit too? The Garaian Emperor employed an entire unit of lion shifters as his personal guard. I’d be surprised if they don’t also serve as an informal spy unit.”

“That all sounds very unusual,” Garrett said, looking bemused. “But unconventional ideas might just be what we need right now. And you are right—it would be a shame to put Harron out to pasture when he could still be of use. I will consider it, and discuss it with the Minister.”

“Great. Let me know if you need my help.” Not that I particularly wanted to keep working with Garrett, especially in light of his recent actions. But I was beginning to see that it wasn’t always possible to crush your enemies outright—sometimes you had to work with them. And if Garrett could convince the Minister to bring more humans and shifters into government positions, it would be a huge step forward for the Federation.

“Very well.” Sighing, Garrett sat back in the chair. “I am sorry, too, that Fenris did not survive,” he said somberly. “I know he was a good friend to you. But perhaps it is best that he did not—I meant it when I told you that I was very close to arresting him. I have strong evidence that he was likely not Fenris at all, but Polar ar’Tollis, the former Chief Mage of Nebara. Their interests and knowledge were far too similar, and eccentric, for me to write it off as simple coincidence. But,” he added with another sigh, “there is no way I will ever be able to prove it, now that Fenris is gone.”

A burst of anger filled me at Garrett’s callous pronouncement, but icy fear followed on its heels. Fenris might be gone, but Iannis was not. If Garrett did find a way to prove that Fenris was Polar, he could still go after Iannis for performing that illegal transformation spell.

While Garrett stared bleakly at the grate, lost in his own thoughts, I quickly sifted through Fenris’s memories, searching for something I could use to deflect suspicion. Images of the two of us talking rushed past, of spending nights by the fire out in the wilderness of Mexia, and of fighting Resistance soldiers. I forced myself not to get caught up in them. I could feel Fenris’s fond regard of me, his almost fatherly affection, and my heart ached for the loss once more. Thankfully, his earlier memories of Polar were quite different, and I was able to put my emotions aside and sift through the events that had gotten him exiled in the first place.