"Why are more mystics drained than are needed to fuel the city?"
The governor sputters as he's swallowing his wine, making a choking sound."
"Lyrica." Tabitha spews out an address. "If anyone can help you, she can." She turns and says, "They'll have noticed that I left by now. I've got to go." A cough racks her skinny frame. "Wait until dark, the follow the lights. Trust me. You'll find your answers. "