“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.