Page 52 of Magic Forsaken

Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. Why was I mouthing off to the absurdly powerful king of the shapeshifters who had the power to make my life miserable?

I was obviously drunk—on adrenaline, stress, and possibly a hefty dose of sleep deprivation mixed with annoyance.

Faris dropped into his chair with a grunt. “Raine is right. You shouldn’t have missed. But if you hurt him now, Kira will kill you.”

I thought I saw the glimmer of a smile beneath that beard. No matter how much he might seem annoyed with Draven, he was obviously proud of Kira. Even seemed to consider her basically his own daughter.

I was desperately curious to know how that could have happened, but this was clearly not the time to ask.

“She nearly killed me the first time,” Callum said dryly. “But sadly, planning Elduvar’s demise is not why I’m here. You said you had an update on the shapeshifters from yesterday.”

“I do.” Faris leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on his desk, all hints of humor gone from his face. “You said they didn’t act like typical shifters. That they seemed unused to fighting in shifted form. Couldn’t manage to suppress their instincts.”

Callum nodded once, his own face hardening with the memory. “I roared at them, just to see if it would slow them down, and the wolf rolled over and showed me his belly immediately. Like it was the wolf driving and not the human.”

I remembered that roar. It had physically hurt, and sounded as if it had come from a dragon rather than a human chest. “Was that some sort of shifter magic?”

He shot me a piercing look, and I wondered if that was something I already should have known. If I’d been raised by Idrian parents, would they have taught me these things?

“Yes and no,” he acknowledged. “A shapeshifter’s animal form is instinctively willing to acknowledge authority simply by virtue of superior strength. Most shifters are aware of my position and find me intimidating, whether I’m trying to be or not. It’s part of why they choose their leaders the way they do.

“But most shifters are also far more than just their animal instincts. I was attempting to remind the wolf of the fact that I could crush him if I chose, and he acted as if he’d forgotten that he could choose to attack me anyway.”

That was… actually rather worrying. “What about shifters who aren’t a part of the court? Like… Seamus? Do they react to you the same way?”

His eyes met mine, and I could tell he knew exactly why I was asking. Thankfully, he chose not to reveal those reasons.

“Depends on the shifter.”

Well that was super specific and helpful information.

I shook off a chill and turned back to Faris. “So did you find out why the shapeshifters who attacked us were acting strangely?”

His face had gone oddly blank. “I have a suspicion, but I need Callum to test it. If you’re willing?”

“Explain.” Callum’s expression was now cool and wary. We were clearly tucked away in the privacy of Faris’s office for a reason.

“I have a small basement, with rooms for customers who drink too much or start breaking things. I put your two down there last night. Figured we’d wait for them to shift back andstart yelling for someone to let them out. But they never did. I checked on them early this morning and…” He was stroking his beard again, with an agitated frown. “They never shifted back.”

Callum’s posture stiffened instantly. “That’s a long time for an injured shapeshifter. What are you thinking?”

Whatever his suspicions, Faris was keeping them close. “Frankly, my thoughts are so preposterous, I don’t even want to say until I’ve gotten your take on the situation.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

I hadn’t even realized The Portal had a basement, so it was with a cautious sense of curiosity that I followed the two men down a narrow set of stairs. Faris’s description made the space sound more like a jail than anything else, so I was half expecting to see iron barred cells, lit only by torchlight that glimmered off puddles of water on a dank, rough, stone floor.

So much for my imagination. The space was small, but had a concrete floor, with stacks of boxes and shelves filled with various liquors on one side, and a row of three steel doors on the other. Each door had a single glass pane—rather like a school classroom—but otherwise they seemed normal.

Faris started towards the closest one, but he’d taken no more than a few steps when Callum’s hand caught his arm.

“Stop.” He took in a deep breath through his nose, eyes aglow with a flare of power and warning. “Don’t you smell that?”

Faris shot him a look of irritation that suggested he didn’t appreciate being ordered around, but Callum shut him up with a single, harsh word.

“Blood.”

The elemental made a low, furious sound, and it rippled through me like the first warning tremors before an earthquake.

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