The Rogue

CHAPTER 16 FEARS AND CONCERNS

As the carriage left the Guild, Sonea looked at Rothen and noted a thoughtful look on his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Only a few months ago, you would have had to gain permission to visit Dorrien and his family,” the old magician said. “Now nobody questions it. How quickly things can change.”

Sonea smiled grimly. “Yes. But they could change back just as quickly. It would take only one unfortunate incident and I’d be keeping Lilia company.”

Rothen looked pained. “She did deliberately try to learn black magic.”

“True. I wonder if she would have, if she hadn’t been addled with roet.”

“How do you mean?”

“They say it makes a person stop caring. Which is appealing if you have worries you would like to forget for a while, or need a little false courage, but roet also removes any concern for the consequences of your actions – and it seems to do so much more effectively than drink.”

“Do you think others might make the same mistake as she?”

“Only if they happened to stumble on some books containing instructions on learning black magic while under the full effect of roet. That depends on there being any other books like that out there.” Sonea sighed. “Lord Leiden was breaking a law by not surrendering his to the Guild.”

“Should we start searching private libraries?”

“I doubt we’d find anything. Unless the owner doesn’t know what he or she has stored in theirs, they’d remove and hide anything suspicious as soon as they heard a search was possible.”

Rothen nodded in agreement. “It would take years to go through the bigger libraries thoroughly enough,” he added. “Are we any closer to finding Leiden’s killer?”

She shook her head. “Obviously someone else has learned black magic. Either that or it was Kallen, and the people who claim they saw him that night were lying. I’m surprised Osen hasn’t asked us to read each other’s minds, yet.” The carriage came to a halt. She unlatched the door and climbed out, then turned and waited as Rothen followed.

“I heard that there were enough witnesses to confirm you were both elsewhere when the murder occurred that a mind read isn’t needed.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Nice of him to tell me that. Having my mind read, or reading Kallen’s, isn’t something I look forward to.”

“I’m sure he would tell you, if you asked. Shall we go inside?”

She turned to face the door of the building. The Guild was renting it as a way to deal with the shortage of rooms in the grounds for magicians. When Dorrien came to the Guild on his own he stayed with his father, but there wasn’t enough space in Rothen’s room for an extra two adults and two older girls.

From the outside it looked like a single, though large, family home. Sonea walked up to the door and knocked. A man in a Guild servant uniform opened it. He greeted them, stepped aside and bowed as they passed through into the entry hall.

It was a lavishly decorated room, with staircases winding up to a second floor. Once, it would have been the home of a rich family from one of the Houses, but now it had been divided into four parts, which provided accommodation for four magicians and their families. At first, this idea of dividing up a large house had been rejected, because it was assumed that magicians would be too proud to share a building with others. But the concept proved popular among young magi ci ans with fam ilies from the lower classes, who saw immediately that it provided much more space for their children than an apartment of rooms in the Magicians’ Quarters.

The servant led them upstairs to a large door that filled what would have once been an opening to a corridor. He knocked, and when Dorrien answered the door the man bowed and introduced them formally.

“Thank you, Ropan,” Dorrien said as he ushered Sonea and Rothen inside a large guest room. Tylia and Yilara were sitting in two of the chairs, and Sonea noted they were wearing dresses more in the city style. “Welcome to our new home. It’s four times the size of our house. Alina is worried we’ll get so used to it, it’ll feel like a tight fit when we move back. Here she is.”

His wife had appeared in a side doorway, her hands clasped together and an anxious expression on her face. Her eyes snapped to Sonea, dropped to the black robes; then her expression hardened and she looked away. She smiled nervously as Dorrien urged her to join them. The two girls reluctantly stood and bowed, hovering a pace or two away as the adults exchanged pleasantries.

“How are you finding it here?” Sonea asked Alina.

Alina glanced at Dorrien. “It will take a little getting used to,” the woman said quietly. “I prefer to cook meals myself, but Dorrien says to leave it to the servants.”

“Where do they do the cooking?”

“In the basement,” Alina replied. “They cook for all the families staying here. It looks like there are more servants there tonight. I hope that’s not our fault.”

Dorrien smiled. “Lord Beagir is entertaining guests, too,” he said. He looked at Rothen and Sonea. “Come into the dining room.”

“Dining room, eh?” Rothen chuckled and opened his mouth to say more, but Dorrien frowned, shook his head and glanced at Alina, who had turned away. Looks like Alina isn’t comfortable with all the luxuries here, Sonea mused. Dorrien doesn’t want Rothen teasing him about it, as it’ll make her feel worse.

They moved into a room featuring a large table and eight chairs. A gong the size of a dinner plate sat in an alcove at the end of the room. When all were settled in the chairs, Dorrien glanced at it and the striker moved, filling the room with a pleasant ringing. Alina’s lips thinned and she shook her head.

It probably seemed like a fancy extravagance, but the sound let the servants know that the family was ready for their meal. Sure enough, a pair of male servants appeared carrying trays laden with bowls and plates of food. As they finished arranging the food on the table they tucked their empty trays under their arms and asked which drinks were required. Dorrien requested wine and water, and the men hurried away.

Foregoing the old-fashioned custom of serving guests himself, Dorrien simply invited them to start. They helped themselves to the dishes and began eating. Alina looked up at Sonea, her expression serious.

“How is your hunt for the rogue going?” she asked.

“Right now it has turned into an exercise in patience,” Sonea told her. “We’re waiting for information. Good information, because we don’t want to endanger our sources by acting too quickly.”

“You mean this spy working for the other Thief. The daughter of your friend?”

Sonea paused and resisted looking at Dorrien. He’d given his wife more information than Sonea would have liked. The fewer people who knew she was still friends with Cery the better, but if the fact became known it would not risk anybody’s life. However, the information that Anyi was Cery’s daughter could definitely put her life at risk, if it were discovered.

“Yes,” she replied. “It is a dangerous task, and I know my friend is very worried about her.”

“If it’s dangerous for her …” Alina looked at Dorrien, then straightened a little and turned back to Sonea. “Is it dangerous for us?”

Sonea blinked in surprise. “No.”

“But none of us are magicians.” Alina gestured to her daughters and herself. “What if these people you’re chasing find out that Dorrien is helping you, and that he has a family, and that we live here, not in the Guild grounds?” Alina’s voice rose a little. “What’s to stop them coming here when Dorrien is out, and threatening us – or worse?”

Sonea schooled her expression to hide the amusement she felt. Alina was genuinely worried. Does she have reason to worry? The scenario Alina imagined was not impossible, just unlikely. It would take a particularly bold and cunning assassin or abductor to enter a magician’s home, especially this one which housed several magicians. Someone as bold and cunning as the assassin who killed Cery’s family? Perhaps, but this was no hidden Thief’s lair, where secrecy also ensured nobody would notice a break-in was occurring and come to help.

“The living arrangements you have here work to your advantage,” Sonea told Alina. “Having other magicians living nearby means that, even when Dorrien isn’t here, you have someone to call upon for help, or the servants can fetch help for you. One magician in a house is a big deterrent, but you have four. Which also makes it harder for an outsider to know if they’re all at home or not.

“You should come up with rules to stick to,” Sonea added as Alina opened her mouth to argue. “Who to let into your rooms and who not to. How to be safe when you’re out in the city. What to do if you think someone is following you, or trying to get into the house.” Sonea looked at Dorrien, who nodded resignedly. “I’m sure you can work it out between you.”

As Sonea had hoped, Alina’s attention now shifted to Dorrien. “We will.” She glanced at Sonea briefly. “And we appreciate the advice.”

“The sooner we find Skellin, the sooner you can stop worrying about this,” Dorrien said.

Rothen hummed in agreement. “And nobody will be safe if we don’t.”

“What will happen if you don’t find him?” Yilara asked.

Sonea looked at the girl and smiled in approval at her interest. “He wants to gain control of …” A knocking from the guest room interrupted her.

“I’ll see who it is,” Dorrien said, rising and hurrying out of the room.

The rest of them continued eating, listening in silent curiosity to the sound of Dorrien opening the door and another male voice, then the door closing again.

Footsteps told them he was returning. He stepped into the dining room doorway and looked at Sonea.

“A message for you. Osen wants you to return to the Guild immediately. Lady Naki has disappeared.”

A day’s sailing had brought Achati, Dannyl and Tayend to a smaller port north of Arvice. Achati had arranged for them to spend the night on shore, at an estate owned by an Ashaki who grew crops of raka. Ashaki Chakori had sent a carriage to fetch them from the docks. The smell of the roasting beans was recognisable long before they reached the estate.

Unlike most Sachakan homes, the mansion and work buildings were not surrounded by walls. The main house stood to one side, and the work buildings were a few hundred paces away from them. From one of two circular structures came a plume of smoke, forming a dark stain against moonlit clouds.

“My dear cousin,” Achati had said when formal introductions were over. “It is good to see you again.”

It had surprised Dannyl that Achati hadn’t told them of his relationship to their host. Since his Sachakan friend had taken on the responsibility of organising the journey it had seemed rude to press for too many details.

Ashaki Chakori radiated a kind of strength mixed with contentment. He was of an old and powerful Sachakan family, which allowed him to live away from the city and do what he most enjoyed – growing and producing raka – without risking losing any standing among the Ashaki.

“Our fathers were brothers,” Achati explained as he noted Dannyl’s curiosity. “The younger inherited a city mansion, the older this estate.” He turned to Chakori. “How are your son and wife?”

“Kavori is in Elyne, exploring trade options. Inaki is well.”

Achati’s eyebrows rose. “In Elyne? How is that going?”

“Not as well as we’d hoped.” He looked at Tayend thoughtfully. “There is a perception that raka is a commoner’s drink. Is this so, Ambassador?”

Tayend nodded. “It is growing in popularity, however, due to magicians returning from their time of learning in the Guild with a new taste for it.”

Chakori’s attention shifted to Dannyl. “So it is not a commoner’s drink in Kyralia.”

“It was,” Dannyl said apologetically. “But the Guild has, for the last twenty years, invited people from all classes to seek entry. Those who came from the common classes introduced raka to the rest, and it is popular with novices studying late into the night.”

“It would be,” Chakori chuckled. “There is another exotic product that Kyralians have embraced in recent years that begins with an ‘r’, isn’t there?”

“Roet.” Dannyl shook his head. “It has become quite a problem.”

The Ashaki nodded. “Slaves of one of the southern estates acquired some, recently, though I do not know how. Perhaps an enterprising trader from Kyralia brought it across the mountains. It had an alarming effect, causing slaves to rebel or refuse to work. Their owner has forbidden its use – and the possession of it, too – and recommended that others do the same.”

“A good idea,” Dannyl said. And yet … if roet induced slaves to revolt, perhaps it could be the key to ending slavery in Sachaka. But afterwards the country would be in trouble, with most of its workforce rendered useless. It would take a ruthless or desperate enemy to do that, and if roet production took hold here what would that mean for Kyralia?

“Would you like to eat, or wait until later?” Chakori asked. “I could take you around the estate, if you are not tired from your journey.”

Achati looked at Dannyl and Tayend. Dannyl lifted his shoulders to show he was amenable to either choice. Tayend nodded.

“Both are inviting offers,” Achati told his cousin. “Whatever is most convenient.”

The Ashaki smiled. “Then I will give you a tour, since I have ordered a special dish prepared for you that is always best cooked for at least three hours.”

Chakori led them through the mansion. Though the estate was unconventional in its lack of an outer wall, the mansion’s interior layout and decoration were traditional. A main corridor wound from the Master Room where they had met Chakori past two clusters of rooms, but unlike in the Guild House the corridor branched and the passage Chakori led them down took them to a rear entrance.

They stepped out into a generous courtyard area and headed toward the work buildings. The two tall, circular structures made the mansion look small and meek. The smell of raka beans roasting was strong.

Chakori gestured at the buildings. “The one on the left is for storage and fermentation; the one on the right for roasting and packing.” He headed toward the store, ushering them through a heavy wooden door into a lamp-lit room. A globe light fizzed into existence above his head and brightened to light the whole interior.

The room was divided into sections, with wooden walls radiating out from a central area. Slaves had removed one of these walls and were raking a great mound of beans into the neighbouring space. Another group were shovelling beans into barrows. As a slave moved from one group to another, clearly watching over the progress, Dannyl felt a shock of recognition.

It’s Varn!

Chakori led his guests into the central area, the slaves throwing themselves onto the floor at their master’s arrival, and as Varn turned, his eyes flicked from Chakori to Achati. He hesitated for the tiniest moment in surprise, before dropping in turn.

Dannyl looked at Achati. Varn’s former master looked surprised, and a little dismayed, but he quickly recovered his composure.

“I used to own your supervising slave,” he told Chakori.

His cousin nodded. “Yes, the man I bought him from told me Varn was yours once. He has been a good worker.”

“He is. A good source slave, too. Why did Voriki sell him, do you know?”

Chakori shrugged. “I don’t know. I suspect he needed the money. Do you regret selling him? Do you wish to buy him back?”

Dannyl was glad he was standing behind the two Sachakans, and they couldn’t see him wince at the way they so casually discussed buying and selling people.

Achati didn’t answer straightaway. “It is tempting, and at times I do regret selling him, but no.”

Nodding, Chakori gave the order for the slaves to resume work, and began explaining the storage and fermentation process. Dannyl resisted the urge to watch Varn to see if he cast any looks in Achati’s direction, and whether they’d be reproachful or not. He could not help remembering catching sight of the two of them during the hunt for Lorkin, when they thought themselves unobserved and that nobody would see the obvious affection and desire between them. But what was it that Achati had said later?

“Only when you know the other could easily leave you, do you appreciate when he stays.”

Was that why Achati had sold Varn? Had he come to suspect that Varn’s adoration was faked? Or had he known it, from reading Varn’s mind?

As Chakori finished explaining, he invited them to look around the room. They moved around the storage segments, inspecting the glistening beans. A pile of discarded leaves that looked like large elongated bowls stood nearby. Dannyl turned to their host as they drew level with Varn and the slaves raking the fermenting beans.

“What do the raka plants look like?” he asked.

Chakori smiled, pleased at the question. “They are small trees about double the height of a man. The beans come in pods – like these.” Dannyl followed as Chakori headed for the discarded leaves, but Achati hung back. Chakori picked two up and handed one each to Dannyl and Tayend. They were thick and as inflexible as gorin leather.

“Do you make anything from these?” Tayend asked.

“I give them to a neighbour, who chops them up and spreads them over his fields. He swears they repel insects and make the plants grow faster.” Chakori shrugged.

“They look like little boat hulls,” Tayend observed. “Or they could be used as bowls. Do they burn? Does the smoke smell like raka?”

Dannyl glanced back at Achati. His friend was talking to Varn. The slave’s gaze was lowered, but he smiled faintly and nodded. Achati looked relieved. Dannyl turned back to find Tayend rubbing the inside of his pod.

“Shoes,” he muttered. “I wonder if you could carve them into shoes.”

Achati appeared at Dannyl’s elbow. “I wouldn’t want to walk for long in them.”

“No. You’re right,” Tayend agreed. He gave the pod back to Chakori, who tossed it back on the pile.

“Now,” Chakori said. “Let me show you the roasting process.”

Lorkin had discovered something that nobody in the Guild, perhaps not even his own mother, knew.

Being drained of magic over and over gives a person a dreadful headache.

His captors had kept him from recovering magically by taking power at regular intervals. It left him unable to even remove the blindfold over his eyes. Even when he’d had the strength to move, the few attempts he had made to push the blindfold off by rubbing his head against the wall had resulted in a whack over his head that left his ears ringing.

Having no strength also left him unable to ease the strain and ache from having his arms tied behind his back and the sleepless hours lying on the cold, uneven stone floor. It should not have left him incapable of calling out with his mind, however. Something else was preventing that. He was not sure what. The idea that someone might have blocked his magic while he was unconscious had left him feeling very vulnerable and violated, until it occurred to him a little while later that they wouldn’t be draining his power so often if he couldn’t use it.

The hours that passed were long and miserable.

He could do nothing but think, and try to find a way out of his predicament. His captors were most probably members of Kalia’s faction. It was very unlikely that outsiders were living in Sanctuary, though he couldn’t dismiss the idea. Perhaps the Guild had arranged for his rescue, recruiting disgruntled Traitors or promising them something – like Healing knowledge – in return for rescuing him. Perhaps the Sachakan king already had spies here, and wanted Lorkin removed from Sanctuary before it was invaded.

Trouble was, in either case it didn’t make sense for him to be abducted like this.

The most likely culprits are Kalia’s people, he concluded once again.

He told himself that they wouldn’t dare kill him, but he could not help worrying that he was wrong. Execution of a Traitor was punishable by death, but Kalia’s faction would most likely reason he wasn’t truly a Traitor. Perhaps one of them was willing to take the blame and sacrifice themselves in order for Sanctuary to be rid of him.

When he asked himself what else they might want with him, the answer made his heart beat faster with both fear and anger.

No matter what they intend to do with me, they are going to read my mind. When they do, they’ll dig up all I know about Healing.

This had led him to wonder what he would do if they demanded that knowledge in exchange for his life. It was highly unlikely they would do so, since there was no need for them to gain his cooperation, but while you could pick up the basics of Healing from a mind-read, there was no substitute for experience and practice.

If they do … would I give it to them? Is keeping this knowledge from them more important than my life?

Sometimes he didn’t think it was. He had never liked having to withhold knowledge that would help these people. He couldn’t blame them for resorting to unscrupulous tactics to gain it.

But it wasn’t his decision to make. The knowledge was the Guild’s to give. Would the Guild expect him to die to protect that right?

Do I really have to bow to the Guild’s authority? I told Dannyl everyone should act as if I’d left the Guild. Did I really mean that? Do I still consider myself a Guild magician?

He didn’t get the chance to consider that for long. The sound of a door opening and closing set his pulse racing again. He heard footsteps. Something about the rhythm of them made his heart sink and anger stir within him. He’d know that short, crisp gait anywhere.

Kalia.

“Where have you been? We’ve guarded him for hours,” a woman complained. One of the guards who had been watching over and draining him, Lorkin guessed.

“I couldn’t get away sooner. I was being watched,” Kalia replied.

“Of course you were. Someone else should be doing this,” the second guard pointed out.

“I am Sanctuary’s healer,” Kalia replied archly. “It is my responsibility to ensure our people get the best treatment.”

The two women said nothing to that. Footsteps came closer. He heard the creak of joints. His skin itched under the blindfold. Something cool and alive touched his forehead.

He jerked reflexively, shaking off the hand. Then a pressure gripped his head, holding it firmly against the floor. The rough surface dug painfully into the back of his head. The cool touch returned.

He felt a presence at the edge of his mind. He felt it effortlessly slip into his mind. Though it made his headache increase, he tried to fight the will that took hold of his memories. But it was useless. Nothing stopped the greedy mind in its searching and examining.

—You won’t get away with this, he thought at the invader. If you use magic to Heal people they will know you stole the knowledge from me.

—But you gave it to me willingly, Kalia replied. Right before you left for home. I’ll tell them I tried to talk you out of it, of course. Said you should wait so I could organise a guide for you or you would freeze to death. But, being the ignorant Kyralian that you are, you were too proud to accept the offer. It will be your own fault you died.

—They won’t believe it.

—Of course they won’t. But they’ll have to accept it, since there will be no other witnesses.

Lorkin felt despair threatening to overcome his self-control. He pushed it aside and, as Kalia delved into his memories again and called knowledge of magical Healing to the surface, he tried to distract her with other thoughts. She ignored them, too eager to learn what he knew. Only when her curiosity was satisfied did her attention stray. And when it did, she prompted his mind for memories and facts he would not want her to see.

The mind was a traitor, and did not need much prompting. Normally he would have been able to put those memories behind imagined doors in his mind, safely out of sight. Normally the magician who stepped inside his mind would politely ignore those doors. But not Kalia.

She chased after memories of his childhood in the Guild, amused as she saw how he had been mocked over his mother’s low origins and unmarried state; gleeful at learning how he’d had his heart broken by his first love, Beriya; derisive of expectations that he would do something as heroic as his father; and contemptuous of his attraction to Tyvara …

A sound broke Kalia’s concentration. Lorkin’s ears told him it was loud, but with his attention locked within his mind he did not feel it. Then his awareness snapped back to the physical world. His senses reeled.

“What?” Kalia snapped.

“You were followed. We’ve distracted them, but we don’t have long until they realise.”

Silence followed. Lorkin could hear Kalia’s breathing.

“Is it done?” one of the guards asked.

“Perhaps,” Kalia replied, in a speculative tone that sent a chill down his spine. “Get him up. I know the perfect place to hide him.”

Head still reeling, though now more from lack of food and water, Lorkin felt hands haul him to his feet, then push him forward into the close-sounding space of a passage.

CHAPTER 17 MIND GAMES

The snow that had fallen the night before lay in drifts on either side of the road. It lingered in the shade of the trees, where the sunlight had not yet touched. Sonea leaned closer to the window to look up at the Lookout, wondering if the building was colder than those of the city. Something drew her gaze to the third row of windows.

Is that someone looking out? She frowned and looked closer, making out the face of a young woman in one of the windows. Lilia.

The girl was watching the carriage. It seemed as if their gazes met, though Sonea was too far away to tell if it was her imagination or not. Then the carriage turned and they were no longer in sight of each other.

Ten years is a long time, Sonea found herself thinking. But at least she’s alive and safe.

Her thoughts turned to Naki. The girl had been missing for a week. Her servants had not reported her absence until Naki had been gone longer than usual. Apparently she had occasionally disappeared for a few days without explan ation. All of the household staff had been questioned by magicians and their guesses at her location followed up, but investigations had proven them wrong. Relatives had been contacted but none had heard from the girl.

Naki had received no visitors recently, but plenty of letters. One servant had told how Naki had not looked happy after receiving the letters, and had burned them with magic immediately.

But when Kallen pointed out that Naki’s powers had been blocked, so she couldn’t have used magic, the servant looked thoughtful. She said she had seen Naki throw a letter into the fire recently, but thought it was out of anger. It didn’t occur to her that it was because Naki couldn’t use magic any more.

Kallen had asked if the letters had stopped since Naki had left the house. The servant had thought about it, then nodded. Clever Kallen, Sonea thought. I was thinking about asking when the letters started, not if they stopped coming.

The carriage slowed to a halt at the base of the tower. Sonea climbed out and felt the chill air surround her. The guards standing around the tower were well rugged up. She resisted the habit of creating a shield about herself and heating the air within. The crisp air was refreshing and she had always loved to see her own breath mist. It had seemed magical to her as a child, even though it usually meant she was shivering with cold.

A memory flashed into her mind of being huddled in an old coat, her feet aching as the cold penetrated her thin-soled boots. Then the door of the Lookout opened and the memory faded. A guard was bowing and beckoning hastily at the same time, eager to avoid letting cold air into the building.

After the usual polite exchange with the captain and the magician on duty, Sonea followed another guard up the stairs. He opened the small hatch in the door of Lilia’s room.

“You have a visitor, Lady Lilia,” he called out. Closing the little hatch, he turned his attention to the lock. When the door was open, he stepped aside so that Sonea could enter.

Lilia was standing beside a chair, over by the window. Her eyes were wide and she stared at Sonea hopefully before seeming to recollect herself.

“Black Magician Sonea,” she said, bowing.

“Lilia,” Sonea replied. Looking around the room, Sonea noted that it was comfortably furnished and warm. Two books were sitting on a small table beside the chair. “I have some questions to ask you.”

The girl’s expression shifted from hope to disappointment and resignation. She nodded, then gestured to a small table and two wooden chairs. “Please sit.”

Sonea accepted the invitation, waiting until Lilia had taken the other seat before she met Lilia’s gaze.

“Naki hasn’t been seen for over a week.” Sonea saw alarm in Lilia’s face. “There was no sign of violence or note of explanation at her house. We have searched all the places the servants know Naki liked to visit. Is there anywhere you know of that she might have gone, that they wouldn’t know of?”

Lilia grimaced. “A few brazier houses.” She listed some names.

Sonea nodded. “The servants mentioned these, too. Anywhere else?”

Lilia shook her head.

“No other friends – perhaps ones she was no longer friendly with?”

“No. Though … there were rumours in the Guild that she’d been friendly with a servant girl but her father threw the family out.”

“Yes, we’ve contacted them and they haven’t seen her either. Were there any boys who pursued her, even though she had no interest in them?”

Lilia’s gaze dropped and her face reddened. “Not that I know of.”

“Did she … did she have any connections to criminals – perhaps roet sellers?”

“I … I don’t know. I guess she had to buy the roet from somebody. If she wasn’t stealing her father’s supply.” Lilia looked up. “Have you found out anything about his murderer yet?”

Sonea paused, a little annoyed at the change of subject. But she will be anxious to know, since her friend did blame her for it.

“No,” Sonea told her. “At least, if the magicians investigating it have learned anything, it hasn’t been important enough to report to the Higher Magicians.”

“So … you’re not investigating it yourself?”

Sonea smiled wryly. “I wish I could, but I have a rogue magician to find. It is Black Magician Kallen’s responsibility.”

“But you’re looking into where Naki is.”

“I offered to question you, since we have talked – communicated – a little already.”

Lilia nodded.

“According to the servants, Naki was receiving letters that upset her. She was receiving them for some time before Lord Leiden’s death until the day she was last seen at home. Do you know anything about these letters?”

Lilia shook her head, then sighed. “I’m not much use, am I?”

“What someone doesn’t know can be as useful as what they do know,” Sonea told her. “It is interesting, considering how Naki was willing to trust you to know about the book with black magic instructions in it, but never told you about the letters. It suggests a far greater secret.”

“What could be worse than black magic?” Lilia asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know.” Sonea rose. “But we intend to find out. Thanks for your help, Lilia. If you think of anything, get the guards to send someone to me.”

Lilia nodded. “I will.”

Conscious of the girl’s eyes on her, Sonea left the room. As the guard locked the door behind her, she considered the next door along. Lorandra. Is there any point in me visiting her again? I guess, since I’m here already …

What are you doing, Naki? Where are you? Did you go there deliberately, or did somebody take you?

Are you even alive?

Once again, Lilia’s stomach clenched. All day the questions had repeated in her mind. At first she had encouraged them, hoping that the answers would somehow rise to the surface and she could call out to Welor and send him off to find Sonea. With her help, Naki would be rescued – or else just simply located. Her friend might realise that she would never harm her. Or else the Guild would be grateful for Lilia’s help, and perhaps …

Let me out of here? I doubt that. Lilia sighed. That will only happen if I somehow forget how to use black magic.

Forcing herself to stop pacing, she sat down and picked up one of the books. Even though she had started to see why Welor liked it – the battle descriptions had obviously been written with relish – not even the most exciting tale could have held her attention for long. Not when the person she loved most in the world was missing. She put it down again.

A sound from the next room drew her eyes to the side door. She’d listened in as Sonea had talked to Lorandra. It had been an odd conversation, mostly one-sided since Lorandra wasn’t inclined to answer Sonea’s questions, and when she did speak she often changed the subject completely. Though both said nothing that could be considered impolite or threatening, the whole meeting gave Lilia an impression of antagonism. Lorandra did not want to cooperate. Lilia wasn’t surprised when Sonea gave up and left.

With nothing to listen in on, she wandered the room. A tap from the door made Lilia jump.

“Finished pacing now?” a muffled voice asked.

Lilia smiled wryly. If she had made a habit of listening to the other woman, then it was no surprise Lorandra was doing the same to her.

“For now,” she said, moving over to the door.

“You had some bad news?”

“Yes. My friend is missing.” Though Lilia had told Lorandra of Naki, she had only described them as close friends.

“Do you know where she is?”

“No.” Lorandra would have heard me say that … but I suppose she’d have to allow that I could have been lying to Sonea.

“I bet you wish you could go into the city and find her.”

“I do. Very much.” Lilia sighed. “But even if I wasn’t locked up here, I wouldn’t know where to look.”

“Do you think it’s more likely she’s been taken against her will, or gone into hiding?”

Lilia considered. “Why would she go into hiding? If she had learned black magic it would make sense, but Black Magician Sonea would have seen it in her mind. So it’s more likely she’s been taken against …” Lilia could not finish the sentence. She shuddered. And yet she felt a little bit better. This was, at least, an answer. Even if it wasn’t a good one.

“Who would want to do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does she have that others might want?”

“Money. She inherited her father’s fortune when he died.” Lilia’s heart skipped. “Maybe she found out who killed him!”

“If she did, she’s probably dead.”

Lilia felt her heart constrict. She didn’t want to think about that.

“What if she isn’t dead?” Lilia asked. “What if she’s being held captive? What if she’s being blackmailed?” What if someone is trying to force her into telling them the instructions in the book on black magic?

Lorandra was silent for several breaths. “I guess you won’t know unless the Guild finds out and bothers to tell you. Do you think they will?”

Lilia’s heart sank. “I don’t know.”

“It sounded like Sonea had her doubts.”

“Did it?” Lilia thought back. She couldn’t remember. Her mind had been caught up in shock and worry over Naki.

“Yes.” Lorandra tapped quietly on the door, as if drumming her fingers in thought. “Once, I would have been able to find out for you. I have contacts in the city. Many, many contacts. Most aren’t particularly respectable ones, but that’s partly why I’m in here. If I was free, I would help you find your friend, or find out what happened to her.”

Lilia smiled, though she knew the woman couldn’t see it. “Thanks. It’s nice to know you would, if you were able to.” How strange that this woman, who the Guild regards as a criminal, understands better than anyone else what I’m going through. Well, it’s said that loyalty is important to Thieves and people in the underworld.

“Your powers were blocked before they put you in here, weren’t they?”

“Of course.” Lilia frowned at the change of subject.

“Have you ever tried to break the block, or get past it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I … why bother? Black Magician Sonea put it there. I’m hardly going to break a block she made. I’d just give myself a headache trying.”

“So … it makes a difference how strong the magician is who makes a block? Or if that magician is a black magician?”

Lilia shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that it separates your will from your power, so it doesn’t matter how strong you are.”

“It can’t separate all control, though. Otherwise we’d be dead.”

“Of course.”

“How do they do that?”

“I don’t know.” Lilia winced. She’d been saying “I don’t know” a lot today.

“It seems to me that black magicians are not just stronger than normal magicians but have a different kind of magic. A different way of controlling it.”

“They’re not stronger unless they’ve taken power from other people,” Lilia corrected. “Though Sonea and Kallen were both stronger than most magicians before they learned black magic, they’re no stronger than that. They aren’t allowed to take power without permission, and it would only be given if the lands were under attack, or faced some other threat.”

“Really? Then I’m right. It’s a different kind of magic.”

Lorandra’s tone was that of someone who had just learned something, and was very pleased about it. If she didn’t know that … should I have told her? She’s right, though. I didn’t learn black magic by taking power; I learned it by trying out a different way of sensing it.

“So their powers are different,”

Lorandra pointed out. “They can do things other magicians can’t. Like read minds. They can get around someone’s defences, unlike ordinary magicians.”

“Yes.” That much was obvious.

Lorandra paused again, but not for as long.

“It seems to me that being able to do different things with your mind ought to mean any block in that mind would have to be different, too. Did Sonea put the usual kind of block in your mind? Don’t answer that,” she added. “I’m just thinking aloud. But answer this if you can: has anyone put a block on a black magician before?”

“Not that I know of. There’s nothing in the history lessons that mentions it.”

“I think you should try to get past the block. If nobody has put one on a black magician before, and black magic gets around normal restrictions, then how do they know they got it right?”

Lilia stared at the door. Her heart was beating a little faster. She wanted to point out that Sonea would simply replace the block. If she found out it was gone. So long as I never used magic when anyone was here nobody would know. But she was ignoring the obvious consequence of succeeding: Lorandra wouldn’t be content with remaining in the Lookout. She’ll want me to get us out.

Normally Lilia would have refused. She would have stayed put, knowing that Sonea and Kallen would chase her down, and the punishment for escaping would be worse than mere imprisonment.

They’d probably execute me.

But if she found Naki, perhaps it would be worth it. Reason told her that she did not know the city well enough to find Naki before the Guild caught her, but here was a woman who knew the city well. Who knew the underworld, where Naki was most likely imprisoned. Who wanted to help Lilia.

Lilia wanted more than anything to find Naki, but what did Lorandra want?

Well, she wants to exchange her help for me busting her out of this prison, Lilia thought. I should get her to agree to some conditions.

“How long will it take to find Naki, do you think?”

Lorandra chuckled. “You’re a quick one, Lady Lilia. I can’t tell you exactly. I’d have to locate my people, and if they don’t already know they’d have to spend some time finding out.”

“Do you think we could slip away each night, then return by morning, without the guards knowing?” That would gain us more time than if we left and the Guild started hunting for us. We could spend weeks searching for Naki, if necessary. If they did find we’d been slipping out, they might forgive me given that we returned each time. We might even find Naki without the Guild knowing we’d ever left the Lookout.

“Possibly.” Lorandra’s tone was hard to read. “It depends on whether we can get in and out of here without anyone noticing. If I had access to my powers I could levitate …”

“I can do that,” Lilia said quickly. She did not want to be talked into unblocking Lorandra’s powers. It was bad enough letting the woman loose, but releasing her on the city in full control of her powers was another matter entirely. “So … if I get us out of here, do you promise to help me find Naki?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ll try to slip away and back without anyone noticing?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll do it. If I can undo the block.”

“If you learned black magic in the first attempt, I suspect it’ll be the same for this. Either you’ll be able to do it, or you won’t.”

“I hope so. While I’m trying, you think about how to get us out of here.”

“I will. Good luck.”

Lilia stepped away from the door. She cast about, then moved to the chair by the window and sat down. Closing her eyes, she started a breathing exercise to calm and focus her mind.

When she felt ready, she sent her attention within. At once she was aware of the block. All other times she had done this, she had found the ball of energy within herself straightaway. Now there was something in the way. It was like a magical shield or barrier, and yet it wasn’t one.

She prodded it gently. It resisted. She pushed against it, but it was like a hard, cold wall. I need to try harder. It’s going to hurt. I need to be ready for that. She tried to brace herself for pain, but she had no idea how to do that mentally. It wasn’t as though she had muscles in her mind to tense.

Gathering her determination, she threw her will against the wall. At once a sharp pain exploded in her mind. She gasped, opened her eyes and grabbed at her head, which was now throbbing worse than any headache she’d suffered before.

Oh. That was bad. Rocking in the chair, she concentrated on her breathing and waited as the pain slowly faded away. Closing her eyes again, she considered the block. A powerful reluctance came over her to extend her senses anywhere near it again.

I love Naki. I have to help her. I have to find a way through this.

She pondered the block. How strong is it? It didn’t have a sense of strength. It was just there.

She thought about what Lorandra had said about black magic being a different sort of magic. She remembered the instructions in the book.

“In early training, an apprentice is taught to imagine his magic as a vessel – perhaps a box or a bottle. As he learns more he comes to understand what his senses tell him: that his body is the vessel, and that the natural barrier of magic at the skin contains his power within.”

My body is the vessel, she told herself, then she sought that expanding of awareness that she had experienced before. It came back to her instantly, and she felt a rush of excitement. She sought the block. It was still there.

But now it was irrelevant. The block protected the place she had been taught to reach for magic, but her whole body was full of magic. She could tap into it from anywhere …

Lilia opened her eyes. She reached for magic and felt it respond. She channelled it out and used it to lift Welor’s books from the table. A rush of triumph went through her.

I did it!

She jumped out of the chair and hurried to the door.

“I did it!” she exclaimed. “You were right!”

“Well done. Now get away from the door and be quiet,” Lorandra said in a low voice. “I can hear someone coming.”

Lilia’s heart skipped a beat. She backed away from the door and listened. Sure enough, the faint sound of a single set of footsteps could be heard.

“Dinner,” she said. “I’ll come talk to you afterwards.”

“Good girl.”

Turning away from the door, she moved toward the little table where she ate her meals and waited for Welor to enter, one moment exhilarated by her achievement, the next pushing away guilt over what she was intending to do.

I’m doing it for Naki, she told herself. It doesn’t matter what happens to me afterwards, so long as she’s safe.

It seemed like Lorkin had been waiting for someone to kill him for days now, never knowing if he had minutes or hours to live. Though he successfully fought the panic that constantly threatened to overwhelm him, nausea was relentless. Each time the prick of a blade on his skin heralded the draining of his recovering powers, he wondered if this time he would be dragged past exhaustion to oblivion. Each time the draining stopped, he felt a bitter relief.

I doubt the guards will be the ones to finish me off, he told himself. Kalia will want to do it herself.

Or would she? It was probably safer if some lesser magician dispatched him. Then she could argue that she hadn’t been the one to kill him, if his death was found to be suspicious. If her mind was read, however, he could not see how she could hide the fact that she’d given the order to kill him.

A new sound sent his heart pounding: that of the door opening and closing. Then came the sound that sent shivers of terror down his spine: Kalia’s voice.

“Is it time?” a guard asked.

“Not yet. I want to be sure I have everything I need.”

Lorkin’s stomach sank. He heard footsteps draw closer and wasn’t surprised when a force pinned him to the floor. Hearing the grunt of effort as Kalia crouched gave him a small sense of satisfaction. Cold fingers touched his forehead and he shuddered as her vile presence filled his mind.

At once he sensed that she was in a hurry. She probed his memories hastily, grasping those of Healing as soon as they rose, then she seemed to force herself to take more time, examining what she had learned the day before. He knew that she could see that the application of the knowledge had to be shaped and refined according to the illness or condition, but she didn’t have time to draw the details out of him. She would have to learn the rest by trial and error. Right now she only wanted to know how best to avoid doing harm.

“Speaker …”

The guard’s voice sounded distant, as if spoken from the other side of a wall or door. Kalia paused, then reluctantly released Lorkin’s mind and vanished from his senses.

He felt a tired, simmering anger. If you ever find out the truth, Tyvara, he thought, make sure she gets what she deserves.

“There’s no other way ou—”

“Be quiet,” Kalia snapped. She sounded close, as if she was still leaning over him.

Then he heard what they were listening to. Footsteps. Voices.

Kalia cursed.

The sound of the door opening reached him. Someone drew in a breath in shock.

“Get OFF him!”

“No, Tyvara,” another voice commanded.

Tyvara! Lorkin’s heart leapt. The force holding him down vanished. He struggled up into a sitting position and tried to rub the blindfold off against the rough wall behind him. Suddenly there were fingers roaming over his face again, only this time they were warm.

“Wait. Let me get this off,” Tyvara’s voice murmured. The blindfold slid upwards, releasing him reluctantly. He blinked in the brightness, then grinned as he saw Tyvara crouching in front of him, her face full of concern.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Not now you’re here.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you going to get into trouble for talking to me?”

“Don’t be silly. Turn around.”

He obeyed, and felt the bindings around his wrists fall away. At the same time he felt a little part of his mind freed from a constraint he’d been barely aware of. Looking down at the bindings, he saw a pale yellow gemstone among a pile of bandages.

They tied me up with bandages. That they’d used materials meant for healing as restraints made him despise them even more. Did the stone stop me from calling out mentally? I suppose they’d need to create something like that, in case they had to stop a prisoner revealing their location.

Tyvara rose and helped him get to his feet. He felt giddy. Relief at no longer having to worry what would happen swept over him. He resisted a sudden urge to kiss her. She had turned to face the room, and he reluctantly dragged his eyes away from her to look at the other Traitors in the room.

Two Speakers faced Kalia. One was Savara. The other was Halana. More Traitor magicians stood in the corridor behind them.

“Did you learn how to Heal with magic from him?” Savara asked.

Kalia shrugged. “I might have.”

Savara looked at Lorkin. “Did she?”

He nodded, then shivered as he remembered the mind looking through his memories. The relief and elation at his rescue faded. That’s something I’m never going to forget, he thought. It would come back to him in nightmares.

“You have broken our law,” Savara told Kalia. “You will be judged.”

“Of course,” Kalia replied. “Let’s get on with it, then.” With chin held high, she walked out of the room. Halana followed.

Savara glanced back once, to look at the two guards. “Take them as well,” she ordered. The waiting magicians entered the room and ushered the pair out.

Tyvara did not move to follow. Lorkin looked at her. She was staring at him with a strange expression on her face.

“What?”

She smiled. Then she took his head in both hands and kissed him.

Desire rushed through him, followed by dizziness. He took hold of her as much to pull her closer as to stop himself falling over. She chuckled and pulled away a little.

“You’re not completely unhurt, are you?” she asked. “They’ll have been keeping you drained. Did they even feed you?”

“Um,” he replied, then forced himself to think about her questions. “Yes, yes and no.”

“Drained is not what I’d call unhurt,” she told him.

“I doubt your fellow Traitors would agree with you.”

“Even Kalia would agree that to be drained against your will is to be harmed. Which is why we have laws against it. She’ll—”

This quibbling was too much. He cut off her words with another kiss. It was long and lingering, and to his surprise it was he who broke it.

“The books have it all wrong,” he said.

She frowned. “Books? What books?”

“The ones Kyralian women like so much. Women are always being rescued by men in them. They say the stories are never the other way around because that’s not thrilling, and nobody would read the books.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“No.” He grinned. “It’s very thrilling.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled out of his arms, ignoring his protests. “Come on. There’s a very thrilling scandal about to stir up the whole of Sanctuary, and people are going to want to hear your side of the story.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Very well. I guess I’m afraid you’ll not want to kiss me again if we leave this room. What made you change your mind about me?”

She smiled. “I haven’t changed my mind about you. I changed my mind about what to do about you.”

“Sounds like I ought to thank Kalia for that.”

Tyvara pushed him out of the room. “Don’t you dare.”

CHAPTER 18 ON THE HUNT

It was very warm in Administrator Osen’s office. Too warm, Sonea decided. She wondered if Osen had made it this way, or one of the other Higher Magicians was to blame. It was easy to produce heat with magic, but much harder to cool things down.

The Higher Magicians had settled into their usual places. As always, this meant she and Kallen were standing either side of Osen’s desk. All waited quietly, expressions grim.

The door to the office opened and all turned to watch as Captain Sotin and a young guard entered the room, accompanied by the Warrior who had been on duty at the Lookout last night. All three went a little pale at the scrutiny of the Higher Magicians. The trio moved to Osen’s desk, then stopped, clearly unsure if they ought to be facing the Administrator or the rest of the magicians.

The captain chose to bow toward Osen, and the guard hastily followed suit.

“Administrator,” the captain said briskly.

“Captain Sotin,” Osen said. “Thank you for coming here. This is?” Osen looked up at the guard.

“Guard Welor, Administrator. He was in charge of seeing to the Lady Lilia’s needs. He was not on duty for all of last night, but is – was – the only guard to have regular contact with her.”

Osen nodded and gestured to the rest of the magicians. “Tell us what you know, Captain.”

The man turned to face the room. “The men on duty report that none noticed anything and all swear that none of them fell asleep, were drinking or were otherwise distracted from their duty. No sounds came from the prisoners or from outside the tower. But at some point, the door to Lady Lilia’s room was opened, as was the inner door between Lady Lilia and Lorandra’s rooms.”

“How were they opened, do you think?” High Lord Balkan asked.

“I cannot say. There was no sign they were forced. The keys are not missing. So either they were picked or magic was used.” The captain grimaced. “We had a second lock on Lorandra’s door, out of reach so it could not be picked, but we did not have one on the inner door.”

“And the main door to Lilia’s room?”

The captain shrugged. “We used to keep it double locked as well. Once she was there … well, we assumed she would not know how to pick locks.”

“Since neither can use magic, we must assume Lorandra picked both the inner door and the main door to Lilia’s room,” Lady Vinara said. “Once they got out of their rooms, how did they get out of the tower?”

“They could not have escaped via the stairway to the ground floor, as it ends at the office and that is always occupied by my men,” the captain said. “We think they went up to the roof. We did not keep guards up there, but the hatch to the roof was locked on the inside and blocked by magic—”

He looked at the Warrior who had been on duty.

“Both were intact,” the young man murmured.

“—but we found that the old observatory dome had come loose and could be levered upwards enough to allow someone of a small build to crawl out,” the captain finished.

“It is made of glass and very heavy,” Lord Peakin pointed out, shaking his head. “I doubt Lady Lilia and the old woman would have been able to lift it, even together.”

“They must have,” Vinara said.

“Then how did they get off the roof?” Lord Garrel asked. “Is there any sign of the use of ropes or ladders?”

The captain shook his head.

“You are confident that your men are telling the truth,” Lady Vinara asked of the captain.

The man straightened and nodded. “I trust them all. They are rare honest men.” He paused. “And if they weren’t, and had allowed the prisoners to escape, surely they would have made up a story about being drugged, or some other excuse. They are puzzled and ashamed, and I have had to talk some of them out of resigning.”

The guard beside him bowed his head.

“Guard Welor,” Osen said. “Did you notice anything in Lady Lilia’s behaviour to suggest she may have been planning an escape?”

The young man shook his head. “I don’t think she had time to think about it yet. She was still getting a grasp of what had happened to her. I found this note this morning.” He brought a piece of paper out of his chest pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Osen. “It was in a book I gave her, so I think she meant me to find it.”

The Administrator read the note and his eyebrows rose.

“Must find Naki. Will return by morning,” he read.

“She hasn’t,” Vinara said. “Either she lied or she has been prevented from returning.”

“Why lie?” Peakin asked.

“Perhaps she thought it would gain her more time,” Garrel replied. “If we’d discovered her missing last night, we might wait to see if she returned.”

“But how did they get off the roof?” Osen asked. “How far is it to the ground – or the nearest trees?”

“If they had climbed down they would have been noticed by the guards below. The trees are considerably further down the slope and therefore are lower than the tower,” the captain said. “A rope would have to be strung very tight, and it would be more of a matter of sliding than climbing down it. Then there’s the matter of getting one end up there in the first place without anyone noticing.” He shook his head. “We have always expected that if Skellin attempted to rescue his mother via the roof he would levitate up there.”

“I’d wager he did, and nobody noticed,” Vinara said. “Why would he take Lilia …?” Her expression changed to one of horrified realisation. “Oh.”

The room went very quiet. Sonea looked at Kallen, wondering if he had already considered what Vinara had just realised. His expression was one of forced patience. Yes, he’s well aware of the danger – and itching to do something about it. She resisted the temptation to smile, knowing it would be taken the wrong way.

“Why were they put next to each other?” Garrel asked suddenly. “A cunning rogue and a bl— … an easily manipulated young woman. Surely this was a disaster waiting to happen. Lilia could have told Lorandra how to use black magic, without them even leaving their rooms.”

Some of the Higher Magicians looked at the captain. Garrel, and a few others, were looking at Sonea or Kallen. Sonea looked at Rothen, who met her gaze with a knowing expression. He’d warned her that she could easily be blamed for Lilia’s escape, since she had visited Lorandra and Lilia and hadn’t noticed any flaws in their prison arrangement.

“We were told to ensure they were treated well,” the captain replied. “We thought that, since both were women, they could keep each other company. I … I see that was a mistake, now.”

Sonea’s heart went out to the man. It wasn’t entirely his fault that the pair had escaped either. She frowned. Is he trying to shift the blame all onto himself, to save his men?

“Now Lilia and Lorandra are keeping Skellin company,” Osen said. “I …”

He paused at a knock at the door. Looking up, he narrowed his eyes at it and it swung open.

Dorrien stepped inside. “Forgive the interruption, Administrator,” he said. “But I have information that may be of importance to this discussion.”

The door closed behind him, and Osen beckoned. “What is it, Lord Dorrien?”

“A woman who services one of the Inner City houses facing the Guild wall came to the hospice this morning,” he said. “It took some time for her to see a Healer, since she obviously wasn’t ill,” he added wryly. “She told us that she saw two women climb over the wall last night, a few hours after dark. One was old and had dark skin, the other was young and pale. When she heard about the prisoners who had escaped from the Guild, she remembered it and came to tell us.”

“Nobody else was with them?” Osen asked.

“No.”

Sonea frowned. So if Skellin didn’t rescue them then how did they …? As a suspicion crept over her, the room didn’t feel as warm. Surely not …

“Why did she come to the hospice?” Lord Peakin asked. “Why not come here?”

Dorrien smiled crookedly. “Her services aren’t of the respectable kind.”

“How do you know she is telling the truth? Did she ask for money?” Garrel asked.

“I don’t and no, she didn’t,” Dorrien told him. “She was, as I expect the rest of the city to be, frightened by the thought of a rogue magician and a black magician free in the city.”

“How did this news get out so quickly?” Vinara asked, looking around the room.

Osen sighed. “A slip of the tongue, I’m sure,” he said. “It’s out; let’s concentrate on what this woman’s information means. Lord Dorrien, thank you for bringing it to us.”

Dorrien inclined his head and left. The Administrator turned to the captain and his guard and the Warrior from the Lookout, and thanked them for their assistance. The trio took the cue and departed, too. Once the room was occupied only by Higher Magicians, Osen moved to the front of his desk and crossed his arms.

“We have one small gleam of hope left to us. Unless Skellin sent Lilia and Lorandra on alone after he freed them, they weren’t in his company. Working out how they escaped the Lookout is not as important as finding them before they join Skellin.” He looked at Kallen. “That is your task. Find them.”

Kallen inclined his head, then headed for the door.

Osen turned to Sonea.

“As always, yours is Skellin. Find him.”

This was not a time for raising doubts by protesting that if it was as simple as that, she’d have caught Skellin already – or for showing any resentment at Osen ordering her about like a mindless soldier. She turned and strode for the door.

I am a mindless soldier, as far as the Guild is concerned, she thought sourly, as she entered the corridor. That is why they allowed me to stay. I am their black magician, to be sent out to fight on their behalf, and they’d much rather I did what I was told than suggest how things should be done. Well, they will have to accept that sometimes I will do things my way, if they want me to risk my life to save theirs.

Dorrien was waiting for her on the University steps, a Guild carriage standing ready.

“I thought you might want a lift,” he said.

She felt a sudden mad desire to hug him, but resisted, knowing how Alina would take it if someone saw and mentioned it to her.

“We need to arrange a meeting with Cery,” she told him as she climbed aboard the carriage. “As soon as possible.”

“I thought you might,” Dorrien said. “I hope it was the right thing to do, but I’ve sent a message to him already.”

She nodded. “Thanks. But as for whether it’s the right thing to do … I certainly hope so. If Anyi dies because the Guild wants us to hurry things up, I don’t think I’d forgive myself.”

Dorrien’s expression became serious. “Nor I.”

Though small for a ship, and built for speed, the Inava’s interior was surprisingly roomy. The slave crew slept in the hull. Dannyl had once glimpsed it through the hatch: rows of hammocks swinging like the limp, empty husks of some sort of exotic tree nut. Above deck were only two neat rooms – one for the captain and one for guests.

In the guest room were two single fold-down beds and a table that converted into a larger bed. Only Tayend’s bed had been used in the last three days, as he spent all the time they were at sea sleeping under the influence of the seasickness cure. They had all spent the nights on dry land, at estates along the coast.

The cure for seasickness that Achati had given Tayend made him groggy and sleepy, but the Elyne had accepted this with no complaint, spending most of each day’s journey snoring softly on the bed. Dannyl and Achati occupied themselves on deck in good weather, or inside during squalls. The morning of the third day had brought rain and a chill wind from the south, so today they were keeping warm inside.

“Ashaki Nakaro gave me this last night,” Achati said, his voice quiet so as not to disturb Tayend. He placed a book on the table. “He said we might find something useful in it about the Duna.”

Dannyl picked up the book. It had no title, but the lack was explained when Dannyl opened it and saw the dates next to the entries. It was another record book. The pages had opened at a slim black plaited thread, similar to many place markers that Dannyl had found in Sachakan records.

We have arrived at the camp. My first impression is that it is too large to call it that any more, and many of the Ashaki are now adopting the slaves’ habit, and calling it Camp City. I expect it will soon be named after somebody. Not the king, in case the enterprise is a failure. More likely Ashaki Haniva.

“Haniva,” Dannyl said. “Isn’t that where we’re heading?”

Achati nodded. “It is the port town closest to the Duna lands. The camp was further inland, at the top of the escarpment, but Haniva was smart enough to avoid having it named after himself. He knew that attempts by Sachakans to rule the Duna and settle their land had been failures many times in the past, and wasn’t about to risk that his own name would be remembered in connection to another one.”

Dannyl looked down at the book, turning pages and skimming. “So this is a record of that attempt?”

“Yes. More a diary than a record.”

“It is less than a hundred years old.”

Achati nodded. “We have repeated this stupidity even in recent times. Someone decides there is glory to be had in conquest, and Duna appears to be the best way to gain it. Much easier than Kyralia or Elyne. In fact, more than one past king has sent an overly ambitious Ashaki off to Duna in order to keep him occupied.”

“I’m sure the Duna thanked them for that.”

“They’ve survived admirably well. As a land of primitives, with little magic, you would think they surely could not put up much resistance. But that is how they defeat us: they don’t fight. They retreat into the volcanic lands and wait while we attempt to occupy their land, which always leads to us starving, packing up and going south again.” Achati gave a short, sour laugh. “That Kariko chose to invade Kyralia was unusually smart and bold.”

“But still not regarded as a good idea, I hope,” Dannyl said.

“No.” Achati chuckled. “Though I suspect it has occurred to King Amakira that if he was faced with an overly ambitious upstart Ashaki too smart to be tricked into invading Duna, then Kyralia seems to be well capable of defending itself.”

Dannyl felt a shiver of cold run down his spine. He looked at Achati, who smiled crookedly.

“Let’s not test that idea,” Dannyl suggested, choosing his words carefully. “Not the least because, if he’s wrong, then he’ll have an overly ambitious upstart Ashaki in a better position to cause him trouble than before, and also because, if we defeat him, we might not then be the quietly resentful neighbours that the Duna have been.”

“I assure you, he isn’t considering it a serious proposition.”

“That is good to hear.”

Achati gestured at the book. “Read,” he invited.

Dannyl continued from where he had stopped. The diary keeper described, to his surprise, how tribesmen were being paid to bring food up from the valley below the escarpment. Were the Duna oblivious to the Sachakan’s intentions?

It became clear that these leaders did not have full authority over their people and therefore could not sign over ownership of the land. Authority appeared to be shared with tribesmen known as the Keepers of the Lore. Ashaki Haniva asked to meet with the Keepers. This was, apparently, impossible. After much confusion and mis-translation, it became clear that nobody knew who the Keepers were. This was very frustrating.

As Dannyl read on he was heartened to see that Haniva had attempted to negotiate a peaceful acquisition of the land. This was no brutal conquest … yet. Haniva tried many times and different approaches, but though the Duna appeared to be cooperative and amenable to the idea of selling, there was no clear owner of the land.

It appears that they regard the land as belonging to everyone and nobody at the same time. When Ashaki Haniva asked if that meant he, too, owned it, they said yes. Perhaps this is why they have never resisted us taking control of the land before.

Dannyl considered this strange way to regard land. It was as if they considered it to be “un-ownable”. It was an intriguing concept. And not too different from the idea that a person shouldn’t be owned. No wonder the Sachakans, with their acceptance of slavery, couldn’t grasp the Duna way of thinking.

The Duna’s way of thinking would not have been particularly practical, if their land had not been so difficult to live on. As Dannyl worked his way through the diary, he learned that Haniva and his Ashaki partners eventually gave up on gaining any official document stating they’d bought the land, drove out the Duna and settled. By the end of the record, there were already signs that crops were not growing as hoped.

Achati had been writing in his own diary while Dannyl read, and as Dannyl put the book down he looked up and set his pen aside.

“What did you make of that?”

“The Duna are an interesting people. They clearly have a very different way of thinking.”

Achati nodded. “It is a wonder they have survived this long.”

“It is these Keepers of the Lore that we need to talk to – if they still exist.” Dannyl frowned. “But that could be difficult to arrange, if nobody knows who they are.”

“Difficult? It will be impossible.”

“I assume the Keepers know who they are.”

The Sachakan looked thoughtful, then smiled. “Of course. So perhaps we just keep asking and see if one admits to it.”

“I imagine they won’t want to unless they’ve given it some consideration, and judged that we are not a threat. We should make it known that we want to talk to one of the Keepers, and see if any come to us.”

Achati frowned. “That could be slow. And all Duna consider Sachakans a threat.”

“Yet they still work with you. Unh, for instance. And traders in the markets.”

“Tracking doesn’t involve giving away the secrets of your people. Nor does trading.”

“No,” Dannyl agreed. “That is why we have to let them come to us. This is not something we can force out of them. Otherwise, you’d have done it already.”

Achati nodded. “That’s true. We Sachakans aren’t a patient people.” He looked at Dannyl and smiled. “I have no doubt that you could charm them into talking to you. I hope that my presence doesn’t prevent that.”

Dannyl met his gaze. “Will you be offended if I do this alone?”

The man shook his head. Dannyl held the man’s gaze.

“And if I don’t share all that I learn with you?”

Achati’s eyebrows rose and a hardness came into his gaze, yet he shook his head. “I will accept that it may be politically necessary that you don’t. But it would be better if you simply didn’t tell me if there is anything you must keep to yourself. I do hope you will divulge anything that is of importance to the safety of Sachaka – or rather, I would expect it of a nation that seeks to become our ally.”

Dannyl nodded. “We are aware that anything that could endanger Sachaka would likely endanger Kyralia as well. And I owe you and King Amakira for getting me to Duna in the first place.”

Achati smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “That is nothing. If you must consider it a favour you’d like to return, promise me you’ll take me on a tour of Kyralia one day. I would love to see your Guild.”

Dannyl inclined his head with deliberate Kyralian politeness. “Now that I can promise.”

Lilia had no idea where she was.

She was worn out and scared, and filled with doubt that escaping with Lorandra had been a good idea. She had lost count of the number of times she’d told herself she was doing this to save Naki, and of all the places she and Lorandra had been. She had no idea where she was, only that it was somewhere in the city.

The first stop they had made had been the brazier house in the Inner City to which Naki had taken Lilia. Lorandra had been recognised immediately and was treated with respect. While she was talking to him another had appeared, and stopped to stare and grin at Lilia. He said nothing, just stood there grinning at her until Lorandra returned, when he had turned pale and hurried away.

A carriage had taken Lilia and Lorandra to a place outside the old city walls. There had been a lot of laughing going on in rooms there, and the seemingly ominous groans coming from behind one door had worried Lilia until they’d passed an open door and she’d glimpsed the scantily dressed women inside.

She felt very naïve and foolish after that, but there was worse to come. A journey on foot took her through cold alleyways strewn with mud, garbage and the occasional shivering person huddled in a doorway, and ended with them hiding in the shadows, waiting for three thugs to finish beating another man senseless. Lilia was horrified when Lorandra then approached the men, but even more so when it turned out they knew the old woman.

The men had invited Lorandra inside a house, which turned out to be the home of several members of a gang who hired themselves out to do “strong work”. Listening quietly, Lilia guessed that this officially involved lifting and carrying things, but was generally understood to also mean beating and killing people.

They were surprisingly nice to her, asking if she was hungry and offering her the least worn-out chair in the guest room. Though she followed Lorandra’s lead and said she wasn’t hungry, their leader sent one of the group out to buy hot bread from the local baker for her to eat, and when he pressed a mug of bol into her hands she decided it would not be prudent to decline.

It was sickly sweet and made her sleepy. The late hour didn’t seem to bother Lorandra, who talked and strode about tirelessly. A longer journey followed, Lilia following her guide through a confusing series of rooms and corridors and tunnels, only occasionally emerging into the night air for a few steps. Finally, they stopped in a warm room and when Lorandra gestured to a chair Lilia collapsed into it.

The chair was surprisingly comfortable. It was a lot newer than the houses and buildings they had passed through. Lilia looked up, noting that the room’s decoration and furniture were expensive. She heard her name and realised that the man sitting opposite her, watching her with narrowed eyes, was very well dressed indeed. He smiled, and she forced herself to smile in return.

“The friend of this missing girl,” Lorandra told him.

He nodded, his expression becoming serious as he turned to her. “Then we must find Naki. The sun is well up. It is many hours since you escaped. I have rooms here you can sleep in, if you wish.”

Lorandra hesitated.

The sun is up? Lilia sat bolt upright. The latter part of their journey had taken them along corridors and through tunnels, and she realised she hadn’t seen the sky in hours. “But we have to get back!” she exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Lilia,” Lorandra said. “Dawn came and went some time ago. We have missed our chance to go back. I did not think it would take this long to find someone who could help us. Do you wish to return now?”

Lilia stared at the woman. If we do return now, the Guild will make sure we never escape again. We won’t be able to help Naki.

She should have known this would happen. She’d expected that they’d make enquiries each night, returning to the Lookout before their absence was noticed, until they found and rescued Naki. Even when she’d levitated them both off the top of the Lookout, she’d known escaping would not be an easy thing to repeat. They had been lucky that one of the guards had been mostly asleep on his feet, glancing up at the tower far less often than into the forest. He hadn’t looked up as they’d floated out and away into the tree tops. They might not be that lucky again.

“No,” Lilia said.

Lorandra smiled and nodded approvingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll find Naki. They’ll forgive you for running away when you bring her back to them.”

Lilia managed a smile. “Thank you for helping us.”

Lorandra turned back to the man. He’s probably a Thief, Lilia thought. But then, she is a rogue magician. What fine company I’m keeping. Naki would find it amusing.

Entering Imardin’s underworld in Lorandra’s company had frightened Lilia more than it ever had in that of Naki. But then, brazier houses were probably the safest places to encounter criminals. The trade there was designed to attract, not put off, customers. She and Naki had only really entered the edge of that world. Lorandra had brought Lilia into the middle of it.

She doesn’t have to help me. I’ve done my part: got her out of the Lookout. If she’d been untrustworthy she would have just left me somewhere and disappeared. But she’s doing what she promised: helping me find Naki.

Knowing Lorandra was holding to her side of their deal was the only reassuring thing in this unfamiliar, dangerous world. It had been a risk to trust her, but she’d felt it was one worth taking.

How strange it is that the foolish thing Naki got me to try – to learn black magic – has been the thing that got me out of the Lookout and into the company of someone who can save her.

CHAPTER 19 ESCAPEE

Lorkin opened his eyes, saw that Tyvara was sitting beside the bed, and smiled.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to see me?”

Her eyes widened and snapped to his, and she leaned forward.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Good. Better. Have you been sitting there all the time I was asleep?”

She shrugged and looked around the room. “Not much else to do.” Then she turned back and her lips twitched. “Better than watching a sewer.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He sat up and stretched, remembering just in time that he was naked under the bedcovers. Tyvara’s gaze dropped to his chest and her eyebrows rose.

She stood up and gestured to a chair, where a fresh set of trousers and tunic were draped. “You had better wash and get into those. The judgement of Kalia is about to begin, and you smell as bad as a sewer.”

She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Getting out of bed, Lorkin found a large bowl of water and washing cloths in an alcove and made use of them. His abductors had provided him with a bucket, but had made no attempt to assist him in relieving himself, which had been difficult blindfolded and with hands bound behind his back. He wasn’t surprised that he stank.

He’d had only energy enough after his rescue and some food to peel his clothes off and collapse into the bed before falling asleep. Now he looked around, wondering where he was. The room was small and two chairs were the only other furniture apart from the bed.

Once dressed, he opened the door to the room and blinked in surprise. It opened onto a corridor, which was filled with people. Tyvara was standing beside the door, and hooked a hand under his arm as he emerged.

“Good timing,” she told him, guiding him to the right. People turned to watch him pass. Some looked friendly, others hostile. Kalia’s kidnapping of him was more than a mere scandal and, in the middle of winter with everyone stuck indoors most of the time, it would be attracting attention in a way it might not at other times.

It has probably created more division among the Traitors, he thought. I hope that doesn’t lead to worse problems for them, which become yet another thing they’ll blame me for.

Before long he and Tyvara reached the entrance to the Speakers’ Chamber. They passed through and were immediately pulled aside by a magician and asked to stand by the wall to one side of the lower section. Once in place, Lorkin looked around the room.

All of the Speakers were in their seats except for Kalia, who was standing on the opposite side of the room to Tyvara and Lorkin, flanked by two magicians. The rest of the room was crowded with people, all standing up, their voices combining into an intense chatter.

A bell rang out. Heads turned and the sound of voices dropped. Lorkin saw that Director Riaya was holding a bell much smaller than would normally have been needed to produce the sound. Those of the audience standing in the tiered part of the room began to sit down, while the rest retreated to the walls. When nearly all were settled, another person entered the room. At once almost complete silence descended, the last of those standing among the tiers sat down hastily, and the Speakers rose from their seats to greet the queen as she walked stiffly to her chair.

Before sitting down, Zarala turned to face her people. All placed their hands over their hearts. Lorkin followed suit. The queen bent into a nod toward the audience, then toward the Speakers, and then she sat down. The Speakers took their seats.

“We begin the judgement of Speaker Kalia, who is accused of abduction and forcibly reading the mind of a Traitor. I call forward Lorkin.”

All eyes turned to Lorkin as he walked forward and stopped before the Speakers.

“Tell us what happened to you.”

Lorkin told his tale from the point where he was pounced upon in the dark. He described waking to find himself bound, blindfolded and unable to call out mentally. Holding out his arms to show the cuts – Tyvara had told him not to Heal them away – he explained that his captors had kept him weak by draining him of power frequently.

He pushed aside reluctance to describe Kalia reading his mind, recalling how she had extracted knowledge of how to Heal with magic as well as searching through his memories for anything that might be used against him. This roused a muttering among the audience. He went on to tell them of Kalia’s intention to kill him and claim he’d left Sanctuary. This, strangely, caused the room to fall silent. He saw shock on many faces, but disbelief on others. He finished by relating how Tyvara and Savara had found them.

“You did not give or insinuate permission for anyone to take magic from you, or read your mind.”

“No.”

“Were you given food and drink?”

“No.”

“How many magicians watched over and drained you?”

“I don’t know. Two were always there, but I don’t know if they were the same two. They must have been working in shifts, as the draining continued through the nights.”

Riaya gave the Speakers a meaningful look, then turned back to him.

“Will you consent to a mind-read to prove your story?”

He considered the question. While the idea of having another person roaming about his memories sent a chill down his spine, he’d rather endure that than risk that Kalia might remain free and unpunished for her crimes. Every Traitor he let into his mind was another who would gain knowledge of Healing, but that knowledge was already stolen. Had Kalia passed it on? Perhaps she hadn’t had a chance to. But if she allowed a mind-read, the knowledge would be given to another anyway.

He could feel eyes on him. Gain some time, he told himself. Make them try other ways of gaining the truth first.

“I will, but only if there is no other way,” he replied.

Riaya looked at the Speakers again. “Any further questions?”

The women shook their heads. Riaya nodded to Lorkin. “You may go.”

He walked back to stand beside Tyvara. She gave him a nod and a smile.

“I call upon Speaker Savara to tell her part in this.”

Savara stood. As she spoke, Lorkin learned that Evar had alerted her to his disappearance. She had investigated whether he had left Sanctuary and searched for him within it, but also arranged for any person who had been heard speaking against him recently to be followed. This led her to an abandoned cave near an unstable part of the city, where she found Kalia in the process of reading Lorkin’s mind.

The Director told Savara she could be seated, then turned to Kalia.

“Speaker Kalia, step forward and be judged.”

Kalia strode to the centre of the room and turned to face the Table. Her back was straight and her expression haughty.

“Is Lorkin’s account true?” Riaya asked.

Kalia paused and nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you innocent or guilty of abduction of a Traitor, and reading a Traitor’s mind against her or his will?”

“Guilty – if you consider him a Traitor, that is.”

Riaya folded her hands together. “Then there is no need to investigate the matter further.”

“May I address the people?” Kalia asked.

Riaya looked at the Speakers. The six women did not look surprised. They all nodded, some eagerly, some with resignation.

Kalia turned to face the audience. “My people, I felt driven to break our laws for your sakes. I have a duty, as your Carer and Healer, to ensure that when you come to the Care Room no harm is done to you. Recently Lorkin the Kyralian has taken to administering magical Healing, a skill he has refused to teach us. How could I be sure what he was doing was safe? That it would not do more harm than good? He claimed that it has limitations, but how can you or I know if this is true, should his magic ever harm or kill one of us?

“I have taken him in and given him occupation out of kindness to a newcomer. I have offered him all the lore and training that I and my predecessors have always shared. In return he has disobeyed and defied me, using untested magic without guidance or permission.

“If he refuses to follow Traitor custom, is he truly one of us? I say he is not. And if he is not a Traitor, then what I did was not unlawful. It was justified and necessary, in the defence of our people.”

Lorkin saw many thoughtful expressions among the audience. He looked at the Speakers, who were frowning.

“May I speak, Director?”

The voice was Savara’s. Kalia turned to stare at her enemy with narrowed eyes.

“You may, Speaker Savara,” Riaya replied. “Speaker Kalia, please leave the floor.”

Once again, Savara rose. Her mouth was set in a determined line. She waited until Kalia had returned to her former position, then lifted her chin.

“When Lorkin decided he would come to Sanctuary I had my doubts about him,” she began. “Why would a magician from a sophisticated, powerful nation sacrifice the wealth and power that he possessed and accept the restrictions we would put on him? He knew little about us. It was a great risk he took, trusting that we were a fair and good people.

“Why did he do it? To defend a Traitor. To save someone of a nation that was not even his, simply because it was the right thing to do. How many of us would do that?

“The secret of Healing is not his to give. If one of us were in the situation he is in, we would not expect to give away our secrets. We would expect our hosts to respect that, and not demand or steal them.”

Savara’s voice grew loud and stern. “This is not only a crime of an individual against another. This is an unlawful act of one nation against another. Kalia has not only stolen knowledge from Lorkin; the Traitors have stolen secrets from Kyralia, and the lands Kyralia is allied with – one which lies just over the mountains. Lands that are not our enemies, though they would be justified in considering us one after our treatment of Lorkin. Let’s hope that Kalia has not secured us a long future of hiding from lands on all sides, instead of just the rest of Sachaka.”

Faint whispers were all that stirred the quiet that followed. Savara sat down and nodded to Riaya.

“Speaker Kalia admits to the crimes she is accused of,” the Director said. “We Speakers must now discuss her punishment.”

As the Speakers and Director began to talk, the room exploded with sound as all discussed what had been said. Lorkin felt Tyvara’s shoulder brush his as she leaned close.

“Don’t get your hopes too high,” she murmured.

He looked at her. Her expression was sour. “What do you mean?”

“They won’t execute Kalia,” she told him, looking away.

“Well …” He looked over at Kalia and shuddered. “That’s probably a good thing. Even if she did plan to kill me. It means the rest of the Traitors are better people than she is.”

A bell rang out and he looked over to the Speakers in surprise. That was quick.

“We have decided,” Riaya declared when the room quietened. “Speaker Kalia will be stripped of her title, and will never be considered for a Speaker’s position again. She will be given menial duties for a year, for the benefit of the city. She is forbidden to use or teach Healing magic unless ordered to. If she is deemed to be trustworthy, she may apply to return to working in the Care Room, but never in a position of leadership.”

Protests were voiced in the audience. Lorkin felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. That’s not a punishment. It’s a delay. Eventually, when they’ve made a good enough act of looking contrite, they’re going to let her use the knowledge she stole from me. He felt betrayed. Tricked. Maybe this was the plan all along. He thought of Tyvara’s warning …

The protests stopped and he looked around to see the cause. The queen had risen from her seat, one hand on the arm of the chair to steady herself.

“In compensation for the abuses he has suffered,” she said, “and the secrets that were taken, Lorkin is to be taught the art of stone-making.”

Lorkin stared at the queen in surprise. She met his gaze, her eyes bright with amusement. Realising he was gaping at her, he quickly stopped himself and lowered his gaze. A thrill of excitement ran through him. At last! New magic to bring back to the … As quickly as it had come, the excitement faded. He could not take the knowledge to the Guild. He was stuck here in Sanctuary, forbidden to leave. And besides, leaving Sanctuary would mean leaving Tyvara.

With the Traitors in possession of Healing, he no longer had anything to use to lure them into trading with the Guild and Allied Lands. Looking at it that way, he realised he had failed. The Traitors had gained Healing, the Guild still did not have stone-making.

But I must not lose hope. Perhaps, one day, they’ll let me go. I could run away, but if I fail they will never trust me again. I must be patient.

He looked up at the queen again. She nodded once, then turned back to the Speakers.

The six women wore vastly different expressions. A few looked aghast, a few approving, and Savara actually looked surprised and a little worried. The audience was abuzz with chatter. Lorkin caught looks of worry and disgust, as well as smiles of agreement.

Riaya’s bell rang out again. She stood up.

“The judgement of Kalia is made. The punishment decided. This trial is concluded and the laws of Sanctuary upheld. May the stones keep singing.”

The audience murmured the reply with enthusiasm, then a cacophony of voices and footsteps filled the room and people began to move toward the doors. Lorkin heard shouts from outside the room as news was passed along the corridors.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over with,” he said.

“Not quite,” Tyvara replied.

He looked at her.

“Someone has to teach you stone-making.”

“You?”

She shook her head. “You don’t teach your greatest secrets to the people you send out to live as spies among the enemy. And I never had the patience for it.”

“You preferred pretending to be a slave than stone-making?” He frowned. “How difficult is it?”

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. It’s really not that dangerous, once you know what you’re doing. Come on. Unlike you, I haven’t had an enormous breakfast and a sleep-in. Let’s get some food.”

She hooked a hand under his arm again, and drew him into the stream of people pouring into the corridor where, to his surprise and delight, he received many apologies and sympathetic pats on the shoulder. For all their faults, they were a good people, he decided. Especially when he remembered that what Kalia had done to him was done to thousands of slaves every day down in the rest of Sachaka.

“And yes, I am allowed to see you now,” Tyvara told him. He grinned at her, and she smiled.

Sonea knocked on the door of the treatment room. It opened and, to her amusement, Dorrien looked relieved.

“Ah, good,” he said. “End of my shift, then?”

“Yes. How are you doing?” she asked.

He sighed. “It’s quite draining, isn’t it? By the end of the day I can feel how depleted my reserves of magic are.”

“Yes, on busy days.” Sonea shrugged and sat down on one of the chairs for patients. “If we don’t use our power each day, it goes to waste.” Though if he is draining himself too much he will be of no use to me should we confront Skellin. I must have a chat to the Healers here about his work load.

“Oh, I’m not complaining. I agree. I’m just not used to it.” He grimaced. “Alina and the girls aren’t used to it either.”

Sonea frowned. “You need to use magic at home? I guess we could reduce—”

“No, that’s not it. I’m … I guess being tired makes me a little grumpy. Alina can be …” He waved a hand, frowning as he searched for the right word. Sonea waited. Though there were a few words that came into her mind – jealous, possessive, insecure – they weren’t exactly the polite way to describe his wife’s manner.

“She has a lot to adjust to,” Sonea told him. “A tired husband who is absent more than he used to be, a city she doesn’t know, being far from people who know and understand her – and I’m sure she’s not a little afraid for you.”

Dorrien nodded. “Sometimes …”

Sonea waited, but Dorrien looked pained and shook his head.

“Sometimes what?” she urged gently.

He looked down at the table. “Sometimes,” he said in a low, guilt-ridden voice, “I wish I hadn’t married her.”

Sonea stared at him in surprise. She had urged him to speak because she had assumed he wanted to admit he was afraid as well. He looked up at her, his eyes shadowed and unreadable.

“I should have married a magician. We’d have had … more in common.”

Looking away, Sonea grabbed at the first thing she could think of to shake him from this line of thinking. Much as she didn’t like Alina, she did not want to see Dorrien hurt his family. Moving to the city had highlighted the differences between him and his wife. They had distracted him from the similarities.

“You have the village in common and the love of the country. That may seem less significant now, but it is where you have always felt you belonged.”

Dorrien gazed at her unhappily, then his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “You’re right. It’s like Alina’s distrust makes me wonder if she sees something I can’t. I’m tired of her questions.”

“About the hospice? And the search?”

He nodded. “Among other things.”

“Then bring her here one day. Show her what we do. At least you can take the mystery out of one aspect of your work.”

A thoughtful look crossed his face, then he looked at her and got to his feet. “Well, I guess we should swap places.”

She nodded and stood up, waiting until he had stepped out from behind the table before she slipped past and sat down in the chair he’d been sitting in.

“No messages from Cery?” she asked.

“No,” he replied.

She sighed. “The Administrator has decided to check on our progress as many times a day as he can,” she warned him. “Don’t be surprised if he drops by your home.”

Dorrien winced. “Alina will love that. Goodnight, Sonea.”

She smiled. “Goodnight, Dorrien.”

When the door closed behind him, she looked around the room once to ensure she had all the cures, bandages and tools at hand that she might need, then she sat down again. Before long the first knock came at the door.

Drawing magic, she sent it out to the door. To her surprise, Dorrien stood there with Healer Nikea.

“A message just arrived,” he told her.

“Bring it in.”

Nikea handed a slip of paper to Dorrien, then smiled at Sonea and headed back down the corridor. Dorrien stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He handed the paper to Sonea.

Big meeting tonight. Come for dinner. Bring sweets.

She looked up at Dorrien, her heartbeat quickening.

“This is it,” she said. “The opportunity we’ve been hoping for.”

She’d agreed with Cery that they’d refer to any confirmed arrangement between Skellin and Anyi’s new boss, or the Thief that he worked for, as “big”. “Dinner” meant an hour after sundown. A request for sweets meant to join him at the room under the sweet shop.

“I should be more pleased about that than I feel,” Dorrien murmured.

Sonea smiled grimly. “Don’t worry. I’ll see if one of the Healers here can join us. I’d rather send for someone at the Guild, but we don’t have the time. Though perhaps we can send a message anyway, to see if someone from the Healers’ Quarters of the Guild can help out here tonight.”

Dorrien nodded. “Worth a try.”

Lilia felt much calmer about everything now that she’d had a few hours’ sleep and a meal among people who she hadn’t recently seen beat a man half to death. Worries about the consequences of not returning to the Lookout were easier to push to the back of her mind. Instead, worries about the people she was trusting began to seem more important.

While she felt confident that they couldn’t hurt her, since she had magic, there could be other ways they might take advantage of her. She could only hope that Lorandra would stick to their deal. Though the old woman appeared to be doing that, Lilia doubted she would continue to do so if the search for Naki brought her into conflict with an ally, or came with too high a cost.

The effort she is going to, to help me, seems to be greater than what I did to help her. All I did was bust her out of prison. I didn’t need to ask favours of anyone. Now that I’ve seen the world she belongs to, I don’t think she’s going to value the sacrifice I made by doing something that’ll get me in more trouble with the Guild. She doesn’t understand that I want to return, and hope to rejoin the Guild some day, because she never wanted to join it in the first place.

The Thief, whose name was Jemmi, had arranged a meeting with another Thief who might know where Naki was. He, Lorandra, Lilia, and a man and a woman who appeared to be bodyguards had left an hour or so ago and travelled an underground route to a warehouse. From there they’d emerged into dark streets and huddled in heavy, hooded coats as they walked through the rain to a bolhouse.

All filed up a flight of stairs and into a small room containing two small chairs and a table. It was cold in the room and Lilia was tempted to warm the air, but Lorandra had warned her not to use magic unless she had to. The male bodyguard moved closer to Jemmi and said something. The Thief frowned and turned to Lorandra.

“We need to discuss a fee before we move on.”

“What fee?” Lorandra’s odd-shaped eyes narrowed. She looked at Lilia. “Stay put,” she said. “We won’t be far away.”

She headed for the door. Jemmi looked at the male bodyguard and jerked his head to indicate he should accompany him out. The bodyguard looked at his female colleague and made a quick signal, before stepping into the corridor and closing the door.

Bemused, Lilia sat down in one of the chairs.

The female bodyguard moved to the door, clearly listening to the faint voices beyond. Lilia watched her, wondering how a woman could end up in a job like this. She’s younger than I first thought, Lilia mused. Looking even closer, she noted a few scars on the woman’s hands and one on her neck. The way the fabric of her coat hung and moved suggested that objects were contained within. Knives, perhaps? Surely not a sword …

The woman turned to look at Lilia. Her expression was one of indecision. She shook her head, then sighed.

“Do you know who you’re about to be given to?”

Lilia blinked. “Me?”

“Yes. You.”

“They’re taking me to see another Thief.”

“So that’s how they put it.” The woman’s lip curled. “The Thief’s name is Skellin. Do you know who he is?”

Skellin? Lorandra’s son was a Thief? Lilia felt cold fear prickle her skin. Why hasn’t Lorandra told me she is taking me to her son? Did she think I’d realise he was a magician, and be scared and try to run away? She swallowed. I suppose she’s right. He is scarier than she is, because he has control of his powers.

The woman was staring at her expectantly.

“I thought she’d help me find Naki before joining him,” Lilia explained. “She said we were going to meet someone who would have a better chance of finding her, and maybe he is the best—”

“Skellin is a magician.” The woman moved away from the door and grasped the arms of Lilia’s chair, staring down at her.

“I know—”

“And you know black magic. Do you really think he’s going to find your friend for free? He’s not going to do anything for you until you teach him black magic.”

“I’ll refuse unless he finds Naki.”

The woman’s stare was unfaltering. “Assuming he lets you, what then?”

Lilia could think of no good answer. The bodyguard glanced back at the door, then sighed again.

“You don’t need to betray everyone to find your friend,” she said. “There are others who can help you. Others who won’t blackmail you, because they know it’s better for everyone if the Thieves have no access to magic. Especially black magic.”

“I … I didn’t know.”

The woman let go of the chair and straightened. “I guess you wouldn’t.”

Lilia shook her head. She felt foolish and helpless and frightened. “I … it’s too late now, isn’t it? What else can I do?”

The woman glanced at the door, then at Lilia. “It’s not too late.” Her whisper was full of urgency. “I can get you out of here and introduce you to people who can find your friend without asking you to teach anyone black magic. But only if you come with me now.”

Lilia looked at the door. Lorandra had agreed to help her. She’d made a deal and appeared to be sticking to it. But to get Skellin’s help … he’ll probably want to make a deal of his own … if there’s a chance I can get out of here, I have to try.

“Are you sure you can find Naki?”

“Yes.” The woman’s gaze was steady and her voice full of confidence.

Hoping she wouldn’t regret it, Lilia got to her feet.

“All right.”

The woman gave her a feral grin.

“Follow me.”

In one graceful movement, she stepped up on the table, then reached to the ceiling. Lilia hadn’t noticed the hatch there. It opened silently. The woman held a hand out to Lilia and helped her up, then grabbed her by the thighs and lifted. Lilia bit back a gasp of surprise at being so man-handled. Or is that woman-handled? Her head and shoulders were in a roof space. She braced herself on the frame of the hatch and, helped by a shove from below, pulled herself inside.

The woman appeared in the hatch opening, swung up and pulled it closed. She put a finger to her lips, then slowly and silently crawled along the cavity to the far wall. Following, Lilia concentrated on placing her hands and knees gently on the ceiling panels and not scraping her feet on them. She listened for sounds that might indicate their absence had been discovered, but no shouts or calls reached her.

What am I doing? I should have stayed with Lorandra. But something told her that this woman was right. Lorandra might have been able to help her find Naki, but the cost would have been terrible. This bodyguard had better be right, though. If she can’t find Naki I will tell her to take me back to Lorandra.

At the end of the building they reached a triangular wall. A single window opened in the centre of this and the woman headed for it. Cold air and wind-blown rain rushed inside as it swung inwards like a door. The woman rose into a crouch and put one leg through, bending almost double against her other leg as she carefully backed out through the gap.

Lilia followed and found herself on top of another roof. The bodyguard drew her coat close and walked along the peak, dropping back into a crouch as she neared the edge. Judging by the gap between the roof and the wall of the next building, Lilia guessed there was a road below. She chose her steps carefully. The rain had made the roof tiles slippery. The woman stepped back from the edge of the roof as Lilia reached her.

“I’d like to get us into that building.” She pointed across the road to a three-storey stone building. “See those ropes?”

The woman was pointing to a couple of ropes strung across the gap a few houses further along the road. Lilia nodded.

“We can get across on them, then make our way back across the rooftops, and in through that attic window you can just make out down the side there.”

Lilia looked at the ropes and felt an unexpected wave of admiration for the woman.

“You do this all the time, don’t you?”

The bodyguard smiled. “We put them there. Never know when you’ll need to get away from somewhere”

Lilia nodded toward the road. “Anybody watching?”

The woman leaned toward the edge, looked up and down the street, then shook her head.

“Then I have a better way for you,” Lilia told her. “Hold on to me and don’t shout.”

She drew magic and created a disc of it beneath their feet. The woman threw her arms out, unbalanced, and Lilia caught them to steady her. Willing the disc to rise, Lilia carried them out across the road to the roof on the other side. The woman was staring at her as their feet met the tiles.

“Rek was wrong. You do have your powers back.”

Lilia nodded, then looked back at the bolhouse roof. “She doesn’t.”

“That’s the best news I’ve had all night.” The woman moved to the attic window. It was boarded up on the inside. She unblocked it with one quick kick. As Lilia followed her into the dark room, she hurried to the door, opened it and listened. Then she crept further into the house, peeking through doors. “Nothing. Doesn’t look like anybody is home. That’s the second best news I’ve had all night.”

“You broke in without knowing if anyone was home?”

The woman shrugged. “I could have handled it.”

Lilia decided she didn’t want to know how. She followed her rescuer into a bedroom. The woman approached the window cautiously.

“Don’t get too close,” she warned. Then she tensed. “Ah. There they are. If we’d taken any longer, they’d have spotted us.”

Lilia moved to the side of the window and peered out. Figures roamed the street below. A movement higher up drew her attention to the roof, where two people were balancing, one pointing at the ropes and another staring around at the rooftops.

“I better go cover that window again,” the woman muttered. She hurried upstairs and Lilia soon heard a muffled banging she hoped wasn’t audible from the outside. Fortunately, the rain had begun to come down harder. Perhaps it would mask the sound.

The woman reappeared, this time carrying two chairs, which she set down either side of the window. She dropped into one, and Lilia took the other.

“We’re going to stay put,” she told Lilia as she scanned the street outside again. “They’re heading off along the known routes, not searching houses.” She grinned. “I suppose if I’d known you had your powers and Lorandra didn’t we could have just walked out of there, but then they would have followed us. And there’s something satisfying about disappearing from and then hiding right under the enemy’s nose.” Abruptly her smile faded and she frowned as if something bad had occurred to her.

“What is it?”

The woman grimaced. “Aside from just losing my job, I had other things I was supposed to be doing. People are going to be waiting for my message, and when it doesn’t come they’ll worry about me.”

“Oh.” Lilia felt a pang of guilt. “Well … thank you for helping me – and for offering to find Naki. You’re sure you can find her?”

“We will. We won’t ask you to betray the Allied Lands in the process.” The woman straightened. “In the meantime, we haven’t been formally introduced. Though I’ve guessed who you are.”

“Yes. I’m Lilia, the novice who accidentally learned black magic,” she said wryly.

“Honoured to meet you, Lady Lilia.” The woman bowed slightly. “My name is Anyi.”

CHAPTER 20 NO RETURN

It had been a rough night at sea, and Dannyl had been relieved when the Inava had turned into a small, sheltered bay in the early afternoon. Though Achati had planned for them to spend most nights on land, the further north they sailed the greater the distance was between port towns. Tayend had taken an extra dose of the seasickness cure the night before and promptly fallen asleep, something which Dannyl had eventually begun to envy. Though Dannyl could Heal away the ill effects of sea travel, the heaving of the ship meant that staying in bed sometimes took some effort. Finally, a few hours before dawn, the storm passed and he got some sleep, but all too soon they had to get up again.

Achati had arranged for them to stay at the estate of a friend, who was currently visiting the city. They had the place all to themselves – bar the slaves of course. The slaves, who had been told to treat their master’s guests well, had a delicious meal ready and escorted them to baths built around a natural hot spring that Achati said were not to be missed.

It looked like Tayend would miss them, however. He had to be half carried off the ship by a slave, then lifted into the waiting carriage. He’d snored loudly all the way to the estate and roused himself only long enough to follow a slave to the guest quarters. The slaves reported that he fell asleep as soon as he reached a bed.

Achati and Dannyl headed for the baths together. These turned out to be one long room, a door at each end, with no windows but with an opening in the ceiling that revealed the starry night sky. Steaming pools of water ran down the room’s length, each pouring into the next, with a path that wound beside and, in one place, over a pond via a curving bridge. A metallic, salty tang hung in the air.

“The closest pool is warm,” Achati said as he began to strip off his clothes. “It’s for cleaning, and drains separately. Once you are clean, you can start at the next pool and move down the room until you find one that suits you. The ones at the centre are hot, then they grow cooler again until the last, which is cold.”

“They finish with a cold pool?”

“Yes. To wake you up. It’s very refreshing. But if you wish to go to sleep straight after a bath it is recommended you get out of one of the warmer pools. There are absorbent coats down there to put on to keep yourself warm.” Achati, who was down to just his trousers, looked at Dannyl, who hadn’t begun to undress. “The slaves will clean your clothes and take them back to your room.”

Dannyl nodded, then began removing his clothes. Public bathing had gone out of fashion in Imardin a hundred or so years ago. It was well known that baths (and some records rather snarkily claimed bathing as well) had been introduced by the Sachakans when they had conquered Kyralia. Bathing had remained popular, but not the public aspect. The Guild’s baths were divided into private rooms, as were the facilities in the city – though he’d heard that some bathhouses associated with brothels had larger pools for mixed bathing.

Elyne still had a few public baths, but men and women used them separately, and wore a modest shift of heavy cloth. Dannyl had visited them a few times with Tayend, when he had been Guild Ambassador to Elyne. It had been fashionable to lament the passing of the good old days of nude bathing, but nobody tested the apparent common opinion that it was better stripping off completely.

Of all the more confronting Sachakan habits – slavery, black magic – surely this should be the easiest to adapt to. Though I haven’t heard of any public baths in Arvice. Maybe it has gone out of fashion in Sachaka, too. I can’t imagine them allowing their women to bathe publicly.

Achati had removed all his clothes now, and was stepping into the first pool. His darker skin was suddenly more obvious, and though Achati was smaller in size than the average Sachakan man, he had the same broad shoulders and sturdy frame. Taking a deep breath, Dannyl shrugged off the outer magician’s robe and stepped out of his trousers. He made himself turn around, walk to the pool and step into the water.

He’d been expecting heat, but the water was tepid. Achati’s expression was neutral as he indicated a bowl at the pool’s edge that contained bars of soap. He was surrounded by a slick of soapy residue, which concealed his body beneath the water. The pool was large. Plenty of room for the both of them – possibly enough for four. Dannyl concentrated on the details, not wanting to think too much on the fact that he was naked in the company of a man who had indicated he wanted there to be more than just friendship between them.

The soap was strange. It contained grit, which scratched Dannyl’s skin and left red lines. As Achati stepped out of the pool, Dannyl noted that any such marks weren’t as noticeable on the Sachakan’s skin.

He finished scrubbing himself, then rose and followed Achati to the next pool.

This one was hot. Seats had been built into the sides. Dannyl felt his skin smart at the temperature. Achati did not stay there for long, but moved from pool to pool until he found one that he proclaimed the most comfortable.

“Hot enough?” he asked Dannyl.

Dannyl nodded. “Very.”

“Go on to the next one. I’ll stay here. We can claim one each and still chat.”

So Dannyl stepped down to the next pool, which was pleasantly warm. “Ah. Yes. That’s the one.” He settled into a seat alcove from which he could easily turn and talk to Achati. Though he was growing used to being unclothed, he had to admit to feeling a little relieved that they were now separated by the low wall of the upper pool.

Achati chuckled.

“What is it?” Dannyl asked, when his companion didn’t explain the source of his humour.

The Sachakan smiled crookedly. “You. I thought you’d turn and run.”

“From this?” Dannyl shrugged. “I’ll admit it’s a new experience, and not a completely comfortable one.”

“And yet you managed it. With me here, as well.”

Dannyl tried to think how best to answer that, but before he managed to, Achati continued.

“You’ve been doing very well keeping me at arm’s length.”

Dannyl couldn’t think of anything smart to say to that, either.

“Have I?” he managed.

“Yes. Having Tayend ask to come along was a clever move.”

Dannyl straightened in surprise and indignation. “I didn’t have Tayend ask to come along.” He scowled. “He came up with that idea all by himself.”

Achati’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Dannyl thoughtfully. “I think I believe you.”

“It’s true,” Dannyl told him, trying to avoid sounding offended, and not quite succeeding. “Though it’s also true I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length.”

“Why?”

Dannyl looked away and sighed. “Consequences. Conflicting loyalties. That sort of thing.”

“I see,” Achati said quietly. He was silent for a while, then suddenly rose and moved into Dannyl’s pool. Once settled, he sighed deeply. “That is better.” Then he looked at Dannyl. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, Ambassador Dannyl.”

Dannyl met Achati’s eyes. “Am I?”

“Yes. My loyalties lie first with Sachaka and my king.” Achati’s eyes flashed. “Yours are with Kyralia, your king, the Guild and the Allied Lands – though not necessarily in that order. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing should.” He smiled thinly. “Think of it this way: if my king ordered me to kill you, I would. Without hesitation.”

Dannyl stared at the man. Achati’s eyes were hard and his expression challenging. He means what he says, but then, wouldn’t I do the same, if we became enemies? Probably. I would feel bad about it, but … how likely is it? He pushed that thought aside. What is true is that I’d feel bad about it no matter how close we were, and it’s not that we could ever do anything to make others doubt our loyalties, like having children or getting married …

It wasn’t as if Achati wanted any commitment. For once, that appealed. While Dannyl ought to have been repelled by the man’s admission that he’d kill him if ordered to … it was strangely exciting.

“So … you wouldn’t hesitate? Not even a little bit?” he asked.

Achati smiled and pushed away from the wall, moving to the centre of the pool.

“Well, maybe a little bit. You could come here and convince me how long I should hesitate for.”

Chuckling at his friend’s invitation, Dannyl moved to the middle of the pool. For a few heartbeats they stared at each other. Time seemed to slow and stop.

Then both froze as muffled voices came from the direction of the bathhouse entrance. They quickly moved apart and stood up so they could see who was there. Dannyl was relieved to see the door was still closed.

The voices fell silent, then there was a tapping at the door. Achati glanced at Dannyl, his annoyance gratifyingly obvious. “I gave the slaves orders that we weren’t to be disturbed unless it was urgent.”

“You had better find out what’s wrong,” Dannyl replied.

Achati stepped out of the pool and brought a coat to him with magic. He shrugged into it and moved to the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened. Dannyl quickly schooled his face as he saw Tayend peer around it. The more annoyed I look, the more he’ll suspect. Inside he felt as if his blood was boiling with fury.

“Am I interrupting?” Tayend said. “The slaves said you were here, and after you said we had to try these baths it seemed rude not to come and see them.”

“Of course not,” Achati replied. He waved Tayend toward the cleansing bath and explained the procedure.

Then, as he walked back to join Dannyl, he smiled and silently mouthed a promise.

Later.

Not long after arriving at the Care Room, a magician came to escort Lorkin to the stone-makers’ caves. He was a little reluctant to leave, as the woman who had replaced Kalia was still working out where everything was stored and learning which ailments the patients occupying the beds were recovering from. But she shooed Lorkin away when the escort arrived.

“Go,” she’d ordered. “I will work it all out.”

“I’ll come back later,” he promised.

The magician escort had smiled shyly at him and said little as she led him to the caves. It was so unusual for a Traitor woman to be shy and awkward that he resisted trying to draw her into a conversation. If growing up in a place where women were powerful hadn’t helped to make her bold and confident, then the awkwardness must run very deep – and challenging it might do more harm than good.

She led him deep into the city, further inside the mountain than most Traitors liked to live. The passage became winding, and they passed openings into caves on either side. He’d figured it prudent not to show too much interest in them the last time he’d passed, when being escorted out of the cave Evar had shown him. Now he was free to glance inside.

The caves were of varying sizes and shapes. Some effort had obviously been put into levelling the floor in places, but the uneven and angular walls had obviously been left untouched. In a larger room, Lorkin noted that walkways had been fixed to the walls to allow access to higher parts of them.

In all of the caves he saw spreads of glittering colour, on walls, ceilings and even, in a few instances, on floors.

None of the caves had doors. It seemed a strange omission in a part of the city that contained such magical secrets. But perhaps the secrets can’t be extracted from the stones. Perhaps they can only be passed on mind to mind, like black magic. Or perhaps they were kept in books in a secure room somewhere.

The winding corridor ended at another cave. The guide continued through it, to where another cave joined it, then another. There had been fissures in the walls and floor of the passage, easily stepped over. Now they passed over bigger cracks via bridges made of slabs of the same stone as the walls.

And then they arrived at a door.

The escort knocked, then smiled at him and walked away quickly, before he could thank her. He turned back to find the door open. A voice called out.

“Come in Lorkin.”

He recognised the voice as Speaker Savara’s. Stepping inside the room, he saw that she and Speaker Halana were sitting in two seats of a ring of five. Savara gestured to one of the chairs, and he sat down.

“Are you aware of the responsibilities of each of the Speakers?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Well, at least some of them. Speaker Riaya organises meetings, elections, judgements and such, Speaker Kalia oversaw health, Speaker Shaiya controls the production of food and supply of water, and you are in charge of defence.”

“That is correct. Speaker Lanna’s responsibility is living arrangements and Speaker Yvali’s is education. Speaker Halana’s,” she nodded at the other woman, “is stone-making.”

He looked at Speaker Halana and inclined his head in respect. “So you will be my teacher?”

The woman nodded. “I will. If you agree to it.”

He smiled. “I can think of no reason why I would not.”

Halana did not return his smile, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. Something about her expression sent a warning chill up his spine. He frowned and looked at Savara.

“Is there are a reason why I would not?”

She smiled wryly. “Possibly. I may have mentioned before that I once travelled to Kyralia. I visited Imardin for a while, before and during what you call the Ichani Invasion.”

He stared at her in surprise. “You saw the invasion?”

Her expression was serious now. “Yes. We keep an eye on the Ichani, since they are always on the move and sometimes venture too close to Sanctuary. Mostly they are harmless, too occupied in fighting each other to cause us trouble. But any signs that they are uniting, as you can imagine, are alarming. Fortunately for us, the last time they did that their intent wasn’t to cause us trouble. Unfortunately for your people, their attention had turned to Kyralia.

“We noticed that they were sending slaves into Kyralia, so I went to investigate their purpose. The events that I witnessed made it very obvious that the Guild does not use, and in fact forbids, higher magic.”

Lorkin nodded and looked down. “It is called black magic. And it is no longer forbidden.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And yet its use is restricted. Only a few know how to use it.”

“Yes.”

“And if our spies are correct, the knowledge that those few have is incomplete, too.”

He met her eyes. “I don’t know, since I’m not one of the few allowed to know it.”

“You’re not,” she said, holding his gaze, “or weren’t?”

He looked away. She was asking … what was she asking? If he still considered himself a Guild magician. But there was an unspoken question behind the one she’d asked him: did he want to retain the option of being one again? If he learned black magic, he might never be able to rejoin the Guild.

She could be simply offering to teach it to him instead of stone-making, but he doubted that.

This could be a test to see if he meant to take the stone-making knowledge straight back to the Guild. But that didn’t make sense. The queen hadn’t said anything about him not being allowed to pass on the knowledge. But she hadn’t said he could, either.

“I am asking you this,” Savara said quietly, “because to teach you stone-making, we will have to teach you higher magic.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Oh.”

“And I’m asking if that would prevent you from ever returning to the Guild.”

“I see …” Suddenly it all made sense. The queen felt that he was owed something of equal value in compensation for the Healing knowledge that had been stolen from him. The only magic he did not have was black magic and stone-making. Since he needed the former in order to achieve the latter, they both came at the same price: he could never go home. And that must mean they have considered the possibility that one day they might let me go …

How would the Guild react to him knowing black magic? Would they forgive it, when he revealed he had found a new way for them to defend themselves? Then his heart sank. I was hoping to find a way that would replace black magic, not use it. If stone-making involves using black magic, then I have failed. The Guild might not accept it.

He realised, then, that he didn’t truly believe that. The Guild would never turn down the opportunity to learn a new kind of magic, especially if using the stones didn’t involve using black magic. It would only have to restrict who could learn it.

If they wanted the benefit of the magical gemstones, the Guild would have to accept that Lorkin had learned black magic in order for them to have it. If they didn’t … well, they can have me and gemstones, or neither. Just as I have to accept that I can have stone magic and black magic, or nothing at all.

And if the Guild rejected him … well, he would return to Sanctuary. Traitor society was not without its flaws, but what land or people was? Yet the thought of never returning to Imardin brought a pang of regret. There must be some way he could visit his mother, Rothen and his friends.

That is something I’ll have to work out later. This is more important. It could be disastrous if the Ashaki gain this magic before the Guild does. I can’t contact Osen and ask him to hold a meeting to decide. I have to take this opportunity to learn stone-making, and hope that the Guild doesn’t reject me for it.

He looked at Savara.

“Knowing black magic might prevent me from returning permanently,” he told her. “I may only ever be able to visit. I’m willing to take that risk, if you assure me that there will always be a home for me in Sanctuary.”

She met his eyes levelly, then looked at Halana. The other woman nodded. Savara turned back and smiled. “So long as you never break our laws, you will be welcome to live among us.”

“Thank you.”

“And now,” she said, standing up and gesturing to Halana. “Now it is time we completed your education.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed. “No doubt you’re more worried about the higher magic. Don’t worry. It’s the easy part.”

Halana rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Don’t pay any attention to her,” she said. “She’s right that higher magic is easy to learn but stone-making really isn’t that difficult, if you have patience, diligence and focus.”

Lorkin glanced back at Savara to see the woman shake her head in disagreement before she closed the door. “And if you don’t?” he asked, turning back to Halana.

The woman shrugged. “That depends on the stone you’re raising. If it’s meant to produce heat and you lose concentration … can those Healing powers of yours treat burns?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

She smiled. “Well, then. With an advantage like that, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

It hadn’t surprised Sonea to find that Cery wasn’t waiting under the sweet shop, and that instead there was a message instructing them how to find him. She, Dorrien and Nikea had disguised themselves as a couple and their daughter looking to expand their trade in gathering and preparing rag for paper production. The message led them to a bolhouse, through a small night market and a bathhouse, before they found themselves climbing out of a basement to find that Cery had taken over a neat and surprisingly well-decorated home for the night.

Where the occupants were, Sonea was reluctant to ask. Signs of them were everywhere, from the toys visible through the open door of a bedroom, to the food half eaten at the table. They found Cery in a darkened room, sitting by a window. Gol had met them in the basement, and warned them not to create any lights.

“The meeting is supposed to take place in that room over there, on the second floor,” Cery told them, pointing out of the window.

Looking across, Sonea saw the lamp-lit guest room of a house across an alleyway. The alley was so narrow she could have stepped into the other room in a few strides, if there hadn’t been two walls between them.

They discussed how to approach the other building, and cut off the obvious escape routes. Cery hadn’t be able to get anyone close enough to check for hidden escape routes without them risking being seen. The house they were in got them as close as he dared. It was up to the magicians to find their way over to the room opposite, once the meeting began.

Sonea thrashed out a plan with Dorrien and Nikea, but they hadn’t a chance to put it in action. The room opposite remained empty.

The night passed slowly, and at every hour Cery grew increasingly withdrawn. He spoke less and less, and eventually they all remained silent, not wanting to voice their fears. Shoulders drooped and faces sank in disappointment as it became clear there would be no meeting, and no capture of Skellin or anyone else. When the walls outside the window began to lighten, Nikea finally broke the silence.

“What do you think? Should we conclude that the meeting was called off?”

All exchanged glances except Cery, who was staring at nothing.

“We’ll wait for news,” Sonea told him.

“If Anyi managed to slip away, or send a message through someone, where would they go?” Dorrien asked Cery.

Cery’s frown deepened. “She wouldn’t come here, or send a message here, in case it drew attention to us.” He rose, a movement that seemed abrupt after hours of stillness and silence. “Follow me.”

They obeyed, returning to the basement and retracing their steps to the bathhouse. There, the middle-aged woman who ran the house approached Cery nervously and handed him a slip of paper.

“I’m sorry. It came a few hours ago,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do with it. You never said I might get messages, or where to send them.”

“I never expected you to have to,” he said. “But thank you for keeping it safe.”

She looked relieved and made a quick retreat from the room. Cery read the note and sighed with relief.

“She’s alive and safe,” he told them. “But they’ve discovered that she was a spy.” He shook his head. “I wish I’d been able to arrange writing lessons for her.” He held out the slip of paper, with two scrawls on it. “We worked out a code, but it doesn’t give much detail.”

“You’ll be able to meet with her and find out what happened?” Dorrien asked.

Cery nodded. “How soon will depend on how much her employer and the Thief that controls him know about her, and if they are hunting for her.” His expression became grim again. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

Sonea put a hand over his. “I hope she’s all right. And pass on our thanks to her.”

He managed a wan smile. “All this, and we didn’t catch Skellin.”

“Well, let’s hear what she says before we call it a complete failure. Maybe she’s picked up some information we can still use.”

He nodded. “Then I had better get you back to the Guild with your own identities still concealed.” He beckoned. “Come on. I’ve made some arrangements.”

CHAPTER 21 LIES, HIDDEN TRUTHS AND DELUSIONS

After a nervous night waiting silently in the attic of the house they’d broken into, when the occupants – a family with noisy young children – had returned, followed by a day of restless sleep in a tiny room below a bolhouse, Lilia was beginning to wonder if her life was going to permanently switch to a nocturnal routine.

If it was, then she hoped that she would adjust to it quickly. Though Anyi had assured her that she knew the bolhouse owner, and was confident enough to fall asleep straightaway on one of the narrow beds, Lilia woke at every noise. And sleeping under a bolhouse meant there were a lot of noises to wake her. She must have grown used to it, because Anyi eventually had to prod her into waking up.

“Time to get up,” Anyi said. “I’ve got some clothes for you, then we’ll be having dinner with the woman that runs this place.”

Lilia sat up, yawned, then picked up the topmost piece of clothing in the pile at the foot of the bed. A heavy tunic top. She frowned. It was clean, but threadbare at the elbows.

“Your clothes are too good,” Anyi told her. “People will spot that you’re out of place as soon as they see you. If you want to stay hidden until we find your friend, you’re going to have to dress like you belong here.”

Lilia nodded. “If Black Magician Sonea can do it, so can I.”

Anyi chuckled. “I’ll slip out while you get changed.”

The old clothes smelled of wood smoke and soap. Though they were of coarser fabric than the clothes Lilia had been given to wear at the Lookout, something about them brought a feeling of comfortable familiarity.

They remind me of my life before I became a novice. They are like the clothes the servants wore who did the rougher, dirtier duties.

Once she was done, she moved to the door and opened it a crack. Anyi was waiting outside, and beckoned as she saw Lilia.

“Come upstairs,” she said. The little room was underneath a staircase, and they climbed to a floor two storeys up. Anyi knocked on a door and a voice called out, “Come in.” Smiling at Lilia, she opened the door and moved inside.

“Here she is, Donia,” she said, waving at Lilia. A middle-aged woman was standing in front of a half-circle of guest room chairs. “This is Lilia.”

The woman bowed. “Lady Lilia, I think is the correct title.”

Lilia flushed. “Not exactly. I’m not a magician any more. At least, not a Guild one.”

Anyi gestured to the woman. “This is Donia, the owner of this bolhouse and a childhood friend of Black Magician Sonea.”

Lilia glanced at Anyi in surprise. “Is that true?”

“Not exactly.” Donia shook her head and smiled sadly. “I became the wife of one of her friends, and he died some years ago. Please sit down. I’m having some food brought up. Would you like some wine?”

Lilia hesitated. The last time she’d drunk wine had been the night before Naki’s father had died. Memories of that night were interrupted as Anyi shooed her toward the seats. Lilia let herself be herded into a chair.

“I’ll have some bol,” Anyi told Donia. “If you’re offering.”

Donia smiled. “Of course. Would you prefer bol, Lilia? I’m afraid the water here isn’t as drinkable as it is in the nicer parts of the city.”

“Wine would be nice,” Lilia replied, remembering the sickly sweet drink the thugs had given to her and managing not to shudder.

Moving to a narrow table, Donia tapped a small gong. Footsteps sounded outside the door, then it opened and a younger woman peered inside, an eyebrow raised in question.

“A mug of bol, two glasses and a bottle of the good wine,” Donia said. The woman nodded and closed the door. With a sigh, Donia sat down. “She won’t be long. So … Lilia. Can you tell us how you came to be in the city, heading for a meeting with Skellin?”

The question was asked gently, and Lilia guessed that if she said she couldn’t answer, the woman would accept that. But she felt an urge to speak, to tell somebody what had happened to her, and to find out if her decisions had been right or not. Was it wise to talk to this stranger? It seemed that every time someone wanted her to do something, it brought more trouble. First it was Naki, urging her to try to learn black magic, then it was Lorandra, talking her into escaping from the Lookout.

I don’t know Donia. I don’t know Anyi either, yet for some reason I trust her. She could have taken me straight to the Guild, but she didn’t. Doing what Anyi had told her to do had actually got her out of trouble, so far. I don’t have much choice but to trust her, anyway. It’s that, or try to find Naki on my own.

“You can trust Donia,” Anyi said. “She’s looked after me for years. The more we know, the better chance we’ll have of finding your friend.”

Lilia nodded. She started at the night she and Naki had gone to the library and tried the instructions on using black magic. She started there, because she had to tell them about the murder of Naki’s father, which might be connected to Naki’s disappearance. From there she told them everything up to the point where Anyi had rescued her from the impending meeting with Skellin. The only times she paused were when the servant woman returned with the drinks, and two male servants brought in the food. The wine loosened her tongue even more, and she confessed to some darker thoughts that she had kept to herself, like the fear that she had killed Naki’s father and somehow the roet and wine had made her forget it.

“Rot,” Anyi said with unhidden disgust. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it made you kill him.”

Lilia winced. “So you think I did?” she asked in a small voice.

Anyi’s eyes widened. “No! I don’t think you could do that. It’s just … it makes people do things they wouldn’t normally do. I don’t think it makes them forget that they’ve done it, though.” Then her expression became thoughtful. “Have you had any rot since that night?”

Lilia shook her head.

“And do you … want more. Do you crave it?”

Lilia considered, then shook her head again.

Anyi’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting. It’s not supposed to be different for magicians.”

“Some people aren’t as affected by craving as others,” Donia said.

Anyi looked at the woman. “You sound sure of that.”

Donia nodded. “I’ve seen it with the customers. Some people can’t stop, others can. It’s the same as drinking, though I’d wager that rot hooks more people than drink does.” She shrugged. “It’s rotten luck if you’re one of those people, or their family.” She looked at Lilia, and her brows creased in consideration. “That’s quite an adventure you’ve had. Lots of things don’t make sense. You say you learned black magic easily, but your friend followed the same instructions and didn’t. Her father was killed by black magic, but neither you nor your friend did it – which must be true because Sonea read her mind, too. There are only two other black magicians, but the Guild doesn’t think they did it. So there must be another black magician out there.”

“If there is, Skellin isn’t controlling them or Lorandra wouldn’t have been so keen to get Lilia to him,” Anyi reasoned. “And he can’t be the black magician, for the same reason.”

“Naki’s father was killed after Lorandra was imprisoned,” Donia pointed out. “If Lorandra knew Skellin had learned black magic, Sonea would have learned that when she read her mind. If Skellin learned black magic after her capture she wouldn’t know about it.”

Anyi’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that. Who knows what he would have done with Lilia if he hadn’t needed her? Probably killed her.”

“If he could. She is a black magician, too,” Donia reminded her.

“Ah, but Lilia hasn’t been strengthening herself by taking magic from others.” Anyi turned to Lilia. “Have you?”

Lilia shook her head.

“And this other black magician has, because he killed Naki’s father.” Anyi grimaced. “Maybe it is a good thing the meeting didn’t take place. What if there had been a black magician there, and he was stronger than Sonea and the other magicians?”

Donia spread her hands. “What’s done is done.”

Lilia looked from the older to the younger woman.

“Sonea was going to be at the meeting?”

Anyi winced. “Yes. Well, not so much at the meeting as interrupting it. You see, I was working as a bodyguard for Rek so I could spy on him. My real employer – the person who is going to help you find Naki – has been helping Sonea search for Skellin.”

Lilia frowned. “You work for the Guild?”

“No. I work for someone who works for the Guild – but don’t worry. I’m not going to turn you over to them.”

“Why not?” Lilia asked.

“Because … because I promised to find Naki for you, and I don’t break promises.” Anyi smiled crookedly. “She must be very special to you, for you to risk so much for her.”

Unexpectedly, Lilia’s face began to warm. She nodded and looked away, pushing aside the memory of a kiss. “She’s my friend. She’d do the same for me.”

“You need to tell Cery,” Donia said.

Anyi sat up straight. “No. He’ll just hand her over to Sonea.”

Donia smiled. “He’ll want to, but you’ll have to convince him otherwise.”

Leaning back in her chair, Anyi brought her hands together and drummed the tips of her fingers against each other. “I’ll tell him I promised Lilia he’d find Naki. Surely he wouldn’t want me to break a promise.”

Donia chuckled. “You clearly haven’t got to know him well enough yet, if you think that will work. You need to point out how keeping Lilia around will be more useful to him than giving her over to the Guild.”

Lilia regarded Donia with dismay. This person named Cery sounded more ruthless and self-serving than what Anyi had led her to believe.

Anyi’s eyes narrowed. “I can do that.” She looked at Lilia and an expression of concern crossed her face. “Don’t worry. It won’t involve using black magic. Or anything you’re not allowed or willing to do.”

Donia looked at Lilia and nodded. “She’s right. Unlike most men in his position, he has lines he will not cross.”

“They’re just a little more flexible than most people’s.” Anyi grinned and looked up at Donia. “Can Lilia stay here in the meantime?”

“Of course.” Donia looked at Lilia and smiled. “If you’d like to, you’re welcome to stay. You’ll have to sleep under the stairs again, though. We don’t have any other spare beds.”

Lilia looked from Anyi to Donia, then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll stay, and if there’s anything I can do to pay for my stay and food …”

Donia waved a hand dismissively. “A friend of Anyi is a friend of mine, and I’d never consider charging a friend.”

Anyi snorted. “I should tell Cery you said that.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Anyi. “Not unless you intend to pay for the bol.”

Back in the main room of the guest wing, Dannyl was listening to Achati’s description of the escapades that he and the estate’s owner had got themselves into as young men. A movement at the door caught Dannyl’s attention, and he beckoned as he saw a slave hovering there.

The man threw himself to the floor. “Dinner is ready, master, if you wish to eat now.”

“Yes!” Achati said. He looked at Dannyl. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

Dannyl smiled to himself, thinking of Achati’s silent promise. Though Tayend had kept the Ashaki occupied all day, he had to sleep some time.

Perhaps a liaison with Achati would be short, perhaps it would have awkward consequences in the future, but, for now, it felt right. Besides, Dannyl reasoned, Tayend and I were together for years, and it still ended. And not without some pain and regret.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Tayend emerged from his room. He blinked at them, his gaze moving from Achati to Dannyl. “Aren’t you getting changed?”

Dannyl looked down at the bathhouse coat. Achati hadn’t made any move to return to his usual elaborate clothing, so Dannyl hadn’t either – and he was enjoying being dressed in something other than magician’s robes.

Achati chuckled. “There didn’t seem much point getting dressed. We’ll be retiring to bed in a few hours.”

Tayend’s nose wrinkled. “I reckon I’ll stay up. I’ve been sleeping so much lately.”

Dannyl felt his good mood beginning to sour as a suspicion came over him. He resisted the urge to look at Achati, to see if the other man was thinking the same thing. If Tayend stayed up late …

“Dinnertime!” Achati interrupted, beckoning as another slave appeared in the main room’s doorway. “Are you hungry, too, Tayend?”

A delicious smell wafted into the room. Tayend’s expression changed to one of interest as he eyed the tray in the slave’s hands.

“I am.”

“Then sit and eat,” Achati invited.

Tayend settled on a stool and they all began to eat and talk.

“How are you feeling?” Achati asked Tayend after a while. “No problems with the seasickness cure?”

“No.” The Elyne shrugged. “I was a bit foggy when I first woke up, but it wore off after the bath. When are we leaving again?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Tayend nodded. “Let’s hope there are no more storms.”

“Indeed.”

“I’ll probably read tonight. I haven’t had much chance to since we set off.”

“Do you need anything to read?” Achati asked.

Dannyl listened as they discussed books and the record of the attempt to subdue the Duna tribes that Achati had been given. Achati was giving Tayend his full attention, but then it was likely Tayend would sleep all the next day, and any day they were onboard ship. If he kept up this pattern he wasn’t going to get many chances to talk to Achati or Dannyl.

Which, I have to admit, I’m selfishly pleased at. I have most of Achati’s attention, even if we aren’t alone, since Tayend is mostly asleep when we’re awake, thanks to that seasickness cure.

A cure which Achati had given Tayend. I don’t suppose … Could Achati have intended this? Was it a clever way to keep Tayend out of his way? Our way?

Perhaps it was just a convenient side-effect. After all, Achati had said that not all people were affected so potently by the cure. Dannyl had offered to Heal away Tayend’s seasickness, but the Elyne had declined. Tayend was too proud to come to him for magical relief. Not when there was an alternative. Had Achati guessed this about him?

What would Tayend say if he knew what Achati and I discussed at the bathhouse? Dannyl felt a small pang of guilt, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the possibility that having a new lover might upset Tayend, or from ignoring Tayend’s warning about Achati.

Eventually Tayend is going to work it out, or else I’ll have to tell him. For now, Achati is right: it would be better Tayend was told once we are not spending hours cooped up in a ship together. I’m sure Tayend will have some disapproving things to say about it. I’ll just have to explain that I understand, and that it’s an “as long as it lasts” arrangement.

Dannyl felt a twinge at the last thought. What if it stopped being an “as long as it lasts” arrangement?

I’ll worry about that if it happens, because otherwise I’m not going to be much fun to be around. Again.

The hospice storeroom felt crowded with all the people in it, despite being a large room. All were standing around a table near the door. Sonea and Dorrien stood on one side, Cery and Anyi on the other. Nobody had bothered sitting down in the sole chair. The other chair was missing. Sonea made a mental note to tell one of the Healers.

“I only wish I’d known Lorandra had not regained her powers,” Anyi lamented. “Then I wouldn’t have left, and you might’ve caught both of them. But I didn’t know if you’d be able to take on the two of them. I had to warn you.”

Sonea smiled. “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “It must have been a shock to find yourself in the same room with her. Are you sure she didn’t recognise you from the Hearing?”

Anyi frowned. “I don’t think so. She didn’t behave as if she did, but she might have been pretending, so that I would stay. Then, once we met Skellin, she’d get him to take care of me.”

“If so, she couldn’t have had much confidence that Jemmi and Rek would believe her if she told them you were a spy.”

“Maybe they convinced her that I’d turned on Cery.”

“If I was in her place, I’d have insisted Jemmi find different bodyguards,” Cery said.

“Since she didn’t, it seems more likely she didn’t recognise Anyi,” mused Dorrien. “She would surely have been uneasy, otherwise, being around someone she knew had worked for the Guild in the past, even indirectly, especially when she was meeting her son.”

“Whatever the reason, our chance to catch Skellin was lost,” Cery said, sighing. He looked at Sonea. “Can Skellin remove the block on Lorandra’s mind?”

“Probably.” Sonea looked at Anyi. “Did anybody mention Lilia?”

The girl shook her head.

“Well, let’s hope that means Lorandra dumped her once she wasn’t useful any more. Or that Lilia had the sense to get away from her.”

“And that Lorandra didn’t kill her once she wasn’t useful any more,” Dorrien added grimly.

Sonea grimaced. “At least it means Lilia didn’t tell Lorandra that she had learned black magic. Or if she had, then Lorandra hadn’t realised this meant Lilia could instruct her. She would not have let Lilia go, if she’d known.”

“Lorandra wouldn’t have known what Lilia was imprisoned for unless Lilia or one of the guards told her,” Dorrien added thoughtfully. “But now that rumours about the pair escaping are spreading, Lorandra will soon learn what Lilia knows. We have to hope that she doesn’t know where Lilia is, and go back to fetch her. We have to find Lilia as soon as possible.”

“No. We don’t.” Sonea sighed as all turned to look at her. “Black Magician Kallen does. I’m supposed to be finding Skellin.”

“I suppose this means you need to meet with Kallen and tell him what happened last night,” Cery guessed, giving her a sympathetic glance.

“Yes. Without delay.”

He nodded and made a shooing motion. “Go then. We have nothing else to tell you.” Anyi shook her head in agreement.

“Go yourself,” Sonea replied, copying his shooing motion. “You’re in my hospice, remember?”

He grinned. “Oh, that’s right.”

Turning away, he led Anyi back to the hidden hatch by which he’d entered the room. Sonea waited until the pair were gone and the hatch was closed, then she turned to Dorrien. “Have you been introduced to Kallen before?”

He stepped forward and opened the door for her. “No. Anything I should know before I meet him?”

She stepped out into the corridor, saw a Healer approaching and changed her mind about what she intended to say.

“Only that he doesn’t have much of a sense of humour.”

“I have heard that noted before,” Dorrien said as he followed her down the corridor. “Though now that I think about it, it was said by you.”

“He takes his job very seriously.”

“That surely is a good thing.”

Sonea looked at him. He grinned. She shook her head. “There are limits.”

“To taking a job seriously?”

“To teasing me and getting away with it,” she replied tersely. They made their way through to the carriageway next to the hospice. The carriage she had arrived in was waiting, as she usually insisted that Dorrien finish his shift and go home once she’d arrived. She told the driver to head back to the Guild, then climbed in after Dorrien.

“Something about this doesn’t seem right,” Dorrien said, after the carriage had entered the street.

Sonea looked at him. “Something about what?”

“Last night.” He frowned. His gaze was fixed outside the window, but in a way that suggested he was lost in thought. “Anyi’s story. Maybe it was the way she told it. She kept rephrasing things, or stopping in the middle of sentences, as if she had to stop herself from saying something.”

Sonea thought back to the meeting. She hadn’t detected anything odd in Anyi’s behaviour. The girl’s description of the events had been halting, but Sonea had assumed it was from a difficulty in putting her suspicions, and the spontaneous decisions she’d made, into words.

“Maybe she was nervous,” Sonea said. “She knows I used to live in the slums, but you are from one of the Houses.” That didn’t seem likely, but perhaps Anyi’s usual forthright manner depended on who she was with.

Dorrien’s frown didn’t ease. He shook his head. “Perhaps. But I think there’s more to this than what she told us. Do you think it’s possible she’s being blackmailed?”

Sonea felt her stomach clench. Oddly, the suggestion brought Lorkin to mind. Though he said he was going to join the Traitors willingly, it still means his life is in someone else’s hands. I wish I had some word from him.

“Anything is possible,” she replied. “But I’d have expected that if Skellin wanted to blackmail anyone it would be Cery. And if he was blackmailing him, he’d have locked Anyi away somewhere and threatened to kill her if Cery didn’t do what he wanted.”

Dorrien looked unconvinced, but didn’t say anything more. The streets of Imardin were quiet. Those people who had the choice were inside, keeping warm. As the carriage swung through the Guild gates a light snow began to fall.

They made their way through the University, across the courtyard and to the Magicians’ Quarters. Sonea led the way to Black Magician Kallen’s door and knocked. As the door swung inward, a fragrant, smoky smell reached her nose.

A chill ran down her spine. She had never encountered roet smoke before, but she had smelled its residue on clothing many, many times. Remembering Anyi’s story of seeing Black Magician Kallen buying roet, she felt shock change to disgust as she saw that Kallen and two of his magician friends and assistants were sitting in his guest room, sucking on elaborately decorated smoking pipes. Kallen removed his from between his teeth and smiled politely.

“Black Magician Sonea,” he said, standing up. “And Lord Dorrien. Come in.”

Sonea hesitated, then forced herself to walk into the room. Knowing what she did about roet, she did not want to breathe any of the smoke, even if it was probably too thin to affect her mind.

“What can we do for you?” Kallen asked.

“We came to tell you of a failed ambush we attempted last night,” Dorrien said. Sonea glanced at him, and he returned her look with a shake of his head.

Turning her mind back to their reason for visiting, she described the planned meeting and why it had failed. Kallen asked all the questions she expected, and she was relieved when it was clear they were done and she could leave. Kallen thanked her for filling him in, and assured her he was doing all he could to find Lilia and Naki.

Back in the corridor, Sonea let her grip on her anger loosen.

“I can’t believe he was sitting there smoking roet in his own quarters!” she said, intending it to be a whisper but it coming out instead as a hiss.

“There’s no law against it,” Dorrien pointed out. “In fact, those pipes almost make it look respectable.”

“But … doesn’t anybody grasp how dangerous it is?”

He spread his hands. “No. Even those who see that it has a bad effect on common people assume it’s no worse than drink if taken in moderation, by sensible people – like magicians.” Dorrien looked at her. “If it really is dangerous, then Lady Vinara ought to state it clearly.”

Sonea sighed. “That isn’t going to happen unless magicians agree to be tested. The ones who use roet refuse, and it isn’t fair to ask those who don’t use it to risk being permanently affected.”

“That might change. All you need is for a magician to try to stop taking it, and find that they can’t.” He looked thoughtful. “I’ll ask around. It could be that there are a few already at that point, too embarrassed to say anything.”

She managed a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“As if you need another urgent matter to tackle,” he added. Then a wary, hesitant look crept over his face.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s just … Well … Did you know that the perfume you wear is made from roet flowers?”

Sonea stopped and stared at him. “No …”

He looked away guiltily. “I should have told you earlier. I was in a perfumery a week or two back, and I recognised the scent. So I asked what it was.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of all the perfumes I happened to buy. On a whim. Just because I needed to look occupied. I guess I should throw it away.”

“That would be a shame.”

She blinked, and looked at him questioningly. To her amusement, he avoided her gaze.

“You like it?”

He looked at her, then away. “Yes. You never used to wear perfume. It’s … nice.”

Smiling, she started walking again. They left the Magicians’ Quarters and made toward the University.

“So why were you at a perfumery? Buying a present for Alina?”

He shook his head, then seemed to catch himself.

“Seeing what I might get for Tylia. For her Acceptance Ceremony.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Not the usual fancy pen, then?”

“No.”

He was silent for the rest of the way to the carriage, probably contemplating having a daughter grown up enough to become a novice. She remembered how she had felt when Lorkin had made his vow and received his first set of robes. The pride she’d felt had been tinged by the memory of how she had broken that vow, and of the day the entire Guild had filed past, tearing her and Akkarin’s robes in a symbolic gesture of rejection, before sending them both into exile.

As then, she pushed that memory aside. Lorkin might have gone to live in a hidden city of rebels, but there had been no serious discussion about exiling him because of that decision. Which was reassuring. If the Guild still believed he would find his way home, then it was much easier to believe the same thing herself.

CHAPTER 22 IN GOOD COMPANY

Something brushed against Lorkin’s senses. He ignored it, but the sensation came again and something about it made his skin prickle. The interruption was annoying but, as he had been taught, he accepted it and carefully disengaged his mind from the growing gemstone.

As awareness of his surroundings returned, he opened his eyes and looked around the cave for the source of the distraction. It wasn’t the stone-makers sitting nearby. They were glancing around in the same way as he was. He was fairly certain that it wasn’t the two magicians standing by the door, though their postures hinted that they had been talking. He’d learned to block out nearby conversations days ago.

He listened, and realised he could hear a faint, low noise. At the same time he noticed that he could feel, under his hands, feet, and through the chair, a vibration.

At once his heart began to race, and he quickly drew magic and surrounded himself with a strong barrier.

A tremor, he thought. I wonder how bad it is.

Not bad enough to send the other magicians fleeing the city, he noted. Were the non-magicians evacuating right now? The last time he’d seen the valley outside, it had been covered in a deep blanket of snow. The thought of what might happen should the entire city collapse and strand thousands of people out in the savage cold made him shudder.

The city had survived, albeit with a few cave-ins, for many hundreds of years. That didn’t mean there would never be a day when a tremor was severe enough to destroy it, but it did reassure him that the odds of not having to somehow dig his way out from these deep tunnels under the mountain were in his favour.

Still, it does highlight why some people here believe the Traitors must eventually leave Sanctuary.

He looked around the room. Walls glistened with crystalline points of reflected light. No longer were these outcrops a colourful mystery to him. He knew what each patch was destined to be – which magical task it was being trained to do.

Two kinds were made: patterned and powered. The patterned stones had merely been imprinted with a way to shape magic. The user sent magic into the stone, and it shaped that power into something physical: force, heat, light and various familiar combinations. The intensity of the output was controlled by how much magic was put into the stone. This was what magicians did when they channelled magic out of themselves, so the patterned stones were of not much use to a magician unless he or she hadn’t learned how to do a particular task yet, or could not do it well. They were also of no use to a non-magician, since they couldn’t channel power out of themselves, and had very little or no power to channel anyway.

It didn’t take me long to work out how useful it would be to train gemstones to Heal, so I imagine it’s already occurred to a few Traitors. But there seems to be a limit to the complexity of the task a stone can be trained to do, so if any Healing stones were made they’d only be able to perform basic tasks.

The second type of stone – the powered ones – were far more useful to a magician. They were taught to do the same sorts of tasks, but in addition the maker infused them with their own store of magic. However, this magic was depleted with use. If well made, stones could be re-infused. Less successful stones were single-use. Sometimes they were made to be single-use deliberately, if what they were used for destroyed them, but the majority of powered stones were meant to be re-infused.

Which is so similar to the way the Guild keeps the Arena, and any magically strengthened buildings, strong. The buildings lose magic very slowly, but the Arena and the barrier around it is occasionally battered during Warrior lessons and practice, and has to be strengthened constantly.

The two kinds of magic – the strengthening of buildings and stone-making – were so similar that Lorkin was amazed the Guild had never stumbled on the latter before, until it occurred to him that there were no caves full of naturally occurring gemstones in Kyralia. Neither could they work with imported stones, since by the time these reached the hands of magicians, as jewellery, they were too old to be imprinted effectively.

The other impediment was that the architect who had invented the method of strengthening stone with magic had lived during an era when black magic was banned. Lorkin felt a chill as he remembered how easily and quickly he’d grasped the ideas behind black magic. In less than an hour he’d broken his vows as a magician and a centuries-old taboo.

And for all that, it’s been a bit of a disappointment. I haven’t got any stronger. It hasn’t given me any new skills. All it’s done is enable me to more easily understand and apply the process of stone-making – which will be of limited knowledge to the Guild unless they manage to find some gemstone caves in Kyralia, or work out how to create them another way.

Learning black magic had given him a more realistic view of the magic within him, and his own strengths and vulnerabilities. He suspected it was possible to raise a stone to perform a task without knowing black magic, but it would have been like working blind – impossible to tell if he was getting it right, how much magic the stone could hold, or when it was ready to use.

He looked down at the small green gemstone in his hands. For most of the process, he’d had to work with it while it was still attached to the wall, and a few times he’d lost it among the masses of stones there. When he’d established enough of an imprint upon it, he’d been able to remove it and refine its training at a table.

Long periods of unwavering focus were required. He understood, now, why Tyvara had said she didn’t have the patience for stone-making. Speaker Halana had also told him that making stones that produced heat or explosive force could be dangerous, if the maker’s concentration broke, too much magic was stored in it or the stone was flawed. That was why some stone-making was done in remote caves, where entry was forbidden except by the invitation of the stone-maker who worked there.

Lorkin was making a light-producing stone. Though it was more difficult, he was also being taught how to infuse it with magic. It was also more dangerous because a learning stone-maker could easily infuse it with too much power, or lose concentration. He could have been given a duplication stone to use. These could create endless copies of the pattern held inside them – particularly stones to be trained in complicated magic. Speaker Halana, however, insisted that all students first learn how to create a stone without the help of duplication stones, so that they did not come to rely on them too much.

The vibration had stopped now. Lorkin glanced around the room. The other stone-makers had returned to their work, heads bent over tables. He drew in a deep breath and started a mind-calming exercise. He did not know if the Traitors had similar exercises, but the simple ones he’d been taught at the University were coming in very handy now.

As he was about to send his mind out to the stone again, he heard his name murmured. He looked up. Speaker Halana was walking toward him.

“How is it going, Lorkin?” she asked as she reached his table.

“Good, Speaker Halana,” he replied. “Well, nothing has gone wrong yet.”

She smiled crookedly, with a now-familiar dark humour, and picked up the stone. All but the newest stone-makers had a similar fatalistic humour, he’d noted. Though accidents were rare, they did happen. Lorkin had seen some badly scarred women making their way through the caves. Once, one of the newer makers had whispered to him that some of them worked alone not just to avoid dangerous distractions, but because they preferred that others didn’t see their scars. Some of them ate, slept and worked in the inner caves permanently, almost never leaving.

After staring at the stone intently, Halana put it down again. “You’re doing well,” she said. “It’s a little better than most first stones. In a few days we should be able to activate it.”

He smiled. “And then?”

She met his eyes and paused, then shrugged. “Then you’ll move on to bigger tasks. I’ll check on you again tomorrow.”

With that, she turned away and moved on to the next student. Lorkin watched her, wondering at the pause after his question. It was almost as if the question had surprised her, and she’d assumed that he had known already.

Perhaps she hadn’t thought that far ahead. Or she’s not used to students wanting to know what they’ll be learning next. Or the answer is rather obvious.

Shrugging, he turned back to the stone and, as he was growing quite skilled at doing, resolved to think about it later.

With a little magic, Lilia gently warmed the water in the bucket. She dared not heat it too much in case other servants noticed it steaming, realised that Lilia hadn’t gone to the kitchen to heat it, and started to wonder about her. Kneeling on the floor, she dipped a cloth in the water and began to wipe and scrub.

For a week Lilia had been living in the bolhouse, sleeping under the stairs and pretending to be a cleaner. Donia had been surprised when Lilia had suggested the disguise, until she learned that Lilia’s family were servants. Anyi had disappeared after the first dinner, and when she reappeared the next morning she’d been angry to find Lilia scrubbing pots in the kitchen. Lilia had needed to talk her out of telling Donia off.

“You’re a magician,” Anyi had said, her voice low so the other servants wouldn’t hear. “It shouldn’t matter that you were born a servant.”

“Actually, I’m not a magician – not a Guild one, anyway,” Lilia pointed out. “They threw me out, remember? I don’t mind doing this, and I could hardly expect to stay here for free.”

Anyi had told Lilia of her meeting with Cery. He’d agreed not to tell the Guild that Anyi had rescued Lilia and knew where she was. Lilia could not help feeling curious about him. Anyi had strong opinions about what was right and wrong, and Lilia couldn’t imagine her working for anyone who didn’t agree with her ideals. From what she had said about Cery, he was working at great risk to himself to keep magic out of the hands of the underworld. Donia, on the other hand, seemed to think Cery was more pragmatic – perhaps even ruthless – than Anyi believed.

A booted leg appeared beside her. Startled, she jumped and a yelp escaped her. Looking up, she was relieved to see it belonged to Anyi.

“You startled me,” she said reproachfully, throwing the cloth back into the bucket. “Can’t you make a small bit of noise when you walk up behind me?”

“Sorry.” Anyi didn’t look sorry, though. She looked smug. “Part of my job. I forget that I’m doing it.” She looked at the bucket and wet floor. “Looks like my timing has been good. What have Donia’s guests left for you to clean up this time?”

Lilia grimaced. “You don’t want to know. And it would have been good timing if you’d got here before I had to clean it up.”

“Sorry about that. I’ll try to be early next time.” She grinned. “Are you done? We have a meeting to get to.”

Lilia felt her heart skip. “With Cery?”

“Yes.” Anyi’s eyebrows rose. “You look eager to meet him.”

Lilia stood up. “Only because you make him sound like an interesting person.”

“Do I? Well, don’t tell him that.” Anyi bent to pick up the bucket, but Lilia moved it out of reach with magic.

“I’m the servant, remember. I’ll just drop this off before we go.” She picked it up and headed downstairs. Anyi grumbled quietly as she followed.

Once the bucket had been rinsed and returned to the stack, and Lilia had borrowed a heavy coat from Donia, Anyi led her out of a back door into an alleyway after checking if anybody was watching. The air was very cold and Lilia had to resist the temptation to warm the air around them. To add to her discomfort and frustration at not being able to use magic, it began to rain.

The alley was empty of people, though full of rubbish and boxes.

“You need to know some things,” Anyi said quietly. “I’ve been trying to prevent this meeting, for two reasons …”

She paused as they reached the end of the alley, checking the cross street before they walked over it into another, narrower alleyway.

“Firstly, my employer is in hiding, too. Bringing you to meet him is a risk. Seems to me that bringing two wanted people together doubles the risk of them both being found. But it is safer bringing you to meet him, rather than the other way around. The people who want to find you want to lock you up. The people who want to find him want to kill him.”

“Skellin wants to—”

“Shh. Don’t say his name. The rain covers our voices, but some words attract more attention than others. But … yes.” Anyi peered around a corner, then continued around it. “He’s very powerful, you know,” Anyi glanced at Lilia. “The most powerful Thief in the city. Got allies everywhere, high and low.”

“So … if your employer is in hiding, and the most powerful Thief – who is also a magician – is after him, is he going to be able to help me find Naki?”

Anyi stopped and turned to face Lilia. “He has allies, too. Not as many, but they’re reliable people. The rest would hand you over to him straightaway.”

Lilia stared back at the woman. She’d obviously offended Anyi by questioning Cery’s abilities. Which is fair enough … but something tells me there is more to her relationship with this Cery than she’s letting on.

“You’re very loyal to him, aren’t you?” she observed.

Anyi sucked in a deep breath, then let it out again. “Yes. I guess I am.” Her expression was oddly thoughtful, but only briefly. She started forward again.

Lilia realised that the rain had stopped, which would have been a relief except that it was now snowing, and even colder. She shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets, then regretted it as her fingernails filled up with grit caught in the bottom.

“Good,” Anyi said, more to herself than to Lilia. “I was hoping for snow. It’ll keep people off the street.” She flipped the hood of her coat up over her head.

“So what’s the second reason?” Lilia asked.

Anyi frowned. “Second reason for what?”

“For avoiding this meeting.”

“Oh. Yes.” Anyi grimaced. “Even though he said he wouldn’t, I wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t hand you over.”

To the Guild, Lilia finished. “So you’re loyal, but you don’t trust him.”

“Oh, I do,” Anyi assured her. “I’d trust him with my life. Trouble is, I wouldn’t trust him with most other people’s.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“I realise that. But you should know. He is what he is.”

A possibility flashed into Lilia’s mind.

“A Thief?”

Anyi glanced at Lilia and frowned. “Was I that obvious?”

Lilia smiled. “Either that, or I’m getting better at this.”

“Do you mind?”

“No. I figured I’d have to work with some shady types in order to find Naki.”

“I thought you might, since you were willing to trust that murderous woman even though you knew who she was.”

“I didn’t trust L— … that woman,” Lilia corrected. “I took a chance, because I couldn’t think of any other way to find Naki.” She looked at Anyi. “So how do you know Cery won’t hand me over to the Guild today?”

Anyi chuckled. “I gave him a good reason to keep you.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re going to use you as bait to trap Skellin.”

Lilia stumbled to a halt. “You’re going to—”

“Anyi!”

A woman had stepped into the alley ahead, where it met another street. They both turned to stare at her. She was tall and very thin, and other than a cursory glance at Lilia, her attention was fixed on Anyi.

Anyi cursed quietly, then trudged forward.

“Heyla. Are you following me?”

The woman’s stare was unwavering. “Yes. I want to talk to you.”

Anyi crossed her arms. “Talk then.”

Heyla glanced at Lilia. “Privately.”

Sighing, Anyi walked to the corner and stopped. “This is private enough.”

The woman looked like she might protest, then shook her head and hurried over to join Anyi.

The pair began to talk quietly. Lilia was only able to make out a few words. Heyla said “I’m sorry” several times. Watching the woman’s face, Lilia read guilt, regret and, oddly, hunger. The woman’s shoulders slumped. Her hands moved quickly, and at one point she reached out toward Anyi, only to snatch her hand back.

Anyi, on the other hand, looked calm and attentive, but something about the tension in her jaw and the narrowing of her eyes suggested she was holding back anger. The longer Lilia watched Anyi, the more she grew convinced she was seeing something else in her rescuer’s face. She couldn’t decide if it was hope or pain. Then the woman said something, and Anyi winced and shook her head.

The woman suddenly pointed at Anyi aggressively and said something in a low voice.

Anyi laughed bitterly. “If you can find him, tell him he’s a bastard. He’ll know why.”

The woman turned to look at Lilia again. “What about her? Is she a client? Should I warn her to keep her bedroom locked? Or is she my replacement?”

“Well, she hasn’t turned into a traitorous, thieving rot-addict yet,” Anyi snarled in reply.

Heyla whirled around to face Anyi, one hand curling into a fist, but Anyi, with the slightest shift of her stance, was suddenly poised and ready for a fight. Heyla paused, and stepped back.

“Whore!” she spat, then stalked off down the street.

Anyi watched the woman until she had disappeared far down the thoroughfare, then she beckoned to Lilia. “We’d better keep an eye out,” she said. “She might try to follow us – or have someone else watching.”

She headed back down the alley, then took a narrow, covered route between two buildings into another alley.

“Who is she?”

“An old friend, believe it or not.” Anyi sighed. “We were close once, until she tried to sell me off to our enemies for money to buy rot.”

“What did she want?”

“Money. Again.”

“She threatened you?”

“Yes.”

“If you’ll forgive me saying this,” Lilia said. “But you’re having about as much luck in choosing who you associate with as I am.”

Anyi didn’t smile. Instead she looked sad, and Lilia regretted her words.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m over her,” Anyi said. She quickened her pace. Lilia lagged behind, then forced her legs to move faster so she could catch up.

“I’m over her”, she thought. That sounds like what people say when … Wait. What was it Heyla had said? “Should I warn her to keep her bedroom locked? Or is she my replacement?” That could mean something else but …

As another possible meaning behind the woman’s words dawned on her, she could not help looking ahead, at her guide, and speculating. Perhaps I’m wrong about her and Cery. Anyi was no great beauty, but she was … impressive. Poised, strong and smart. In fact, if it weren’t for Naki … no, don’t think that.

Because not only was it disloyal to Naki, but it would make working with Anyi much too distracting.

Looking pale and ill, Tayend moved to the railing to join Dannyl and Achati. He’d decided that morning that he would only take a half-dose of the seasickness cure, so that he wouldn’t be groggy when they arrived at their destination. Dannyl knew with fatalistic certainty that Tayend would be wide awake by the evening, and keeping him and Achati from having any private time together. Not that any private time would come to much, since Achati warned us that our next host is a … how did he put it? … a “disapproving prude”.

“Welcome to Duna,” Achati declared, gesturing toward the port ahead.

The Inava was sailing toward a wide valley. On either side, cliffs rose in staggered, weathered layers. In the centre, a wide, muddy river poured out into the sea, the grey-brown water cutting a swathe through the salt water for some distance before it mixed with the ocean.

Achati had been not entirely accurate in his declaration. The valley was not the beginning of the Duna lands. The ship had been sailing past them for the last few days, though there was no agreed boundary point. The valley ahead was where most visitors disembarked when they arrived by sea, and it was the closest thing the Duna had to a capital city.

Unlike the dry land and rough cliffs they had seen to their left for most of the journey, the valley was green with vegetation. Houses had been built on high stilts, the level of floodwaters suggested by stains on the wood high above the height of a man. Ladders provided access to some, while rough staircases made of bundled and bound-together logs had been added to others. The gathering of huts was called Haniva, and the valley was known as Naguh Valley.

The captain called out to the slaves, who began to scamper around the ship. The anchor went down and sails were furled.

“We can’t come any closer,” Achati explained. “The silt from the yearly floods makes the water too shallow. Occasionally storms pass through and wash the build-up away, but since they’d probably destroy any dock we might build it’s not worth trying to keep the bay clear with magic.”

When the ship was secure, the slaves lowered a smaller row-boat down to the water. Dannyl, Tayend and Achati thanked the captain, then climbed down a rope ladder into it. Once on shore, they waited for the slaves to return to the ship for their travel trunks and followed as they carried these into Haniva.

The town had no streets, just trails kept clear by the passing of feet, and the houses appeared to be randomly placed – often in groups connected by narrow walkways. Floods were obviously not expected for some time, Dannyl guessed from the crops growing around the houses. These were planted in a way that allowed room for the enormous trees, from which fruit hung in bunches. Each was a single smooth trunk topped with either an umbrella-like mass of branches, or an explosion of huge leaves. Tall spikes shooting from the ground puzzled Dannyl at first, until he saw a few larger ones sprouting leaves, and realised they were the sapling versions of the trees, throwing all their energy into growing tall enough to escape flood waters before putting out foliage.

As they passed people walking in the field, he noticed that their skin and build was somewhere between the stocky brown typical of Sachakans and the grey slim build of the tribesmen. He assumed there had been some interbreeding of the races over the centuries. Settling in towns was not the usual habit of the Duna tribes, from what Dannyl had read or been told. They were a nomadic people.

Perhaps these people could be considered another race, he thought. Maybe called “Naguhs” or “Hanivans”.

After they had passed a few dozen houses, the slaves headed toward a group of buildings standing alone in a field. It was immediately obvious that these were different, despite being constructed of the same building materials and raised on stilts. Their arrangement was symmetrical, with one house in the centre three times the size of the local homes, and smaller buildings arranged around the sides and rear, all accessed by a walkway. A single wide stairway led up to the central house, and the path that led to it was straight. As the slaves reached it they stopped and waited for Achati, Dannyl and Tayend to climb up ahead of them.

Climbing the stairs changed not only the view of the town, but the way Dannyl viewed it. He could see more houses, and the people in them, as well as the workers in the fields. Suddenly Haniva felt far more populated and town-like.

A house slave emerged and threw himself face down on the wooden deck at the top of the stairs.

“Take me to Ashaki Vakachi, or whoever speaks for him when he is absent,” Achati ordered.

The man leapt to his feet and led them inside. The inner walls had been painted white and led down a corridor to a large room. Like a typical Sachakan home, except the walls are straight. In the Master’s Room, a man stood waiting for them. His skin had a hint of dusky grey to it, and his shoulders were narrow, hinting at a touch of Duna in his blood.

“Welcome, Ashaki Achati,” the man said, then as Achati thanked him he turned to his two companions. “And you must be Ambassadors Dannyl and Tayend.”

“We are,” Dannyl replied. “And we are honoured to be staying with you.”

The man invited them to sit. “I have arranged for a light meal to be served, then you each will be taken to your own obin – one of the detached houses you no doubt noticed on your arrival. They are a local idea, usually added for the use of a son after he is married, or an elderly relative after the son inherits the house, but also to keep an eye on unmarried young men and women.”

“Is this a Duna tradition?” Tayend asked.

Vakachi shrugged. “It is and it isn’t. The tribe of Naguh Valley have their own traditions, different to the rest of the Duna. Though they are a settled tribe, and more civilised than their cousins, they are regarded as inferiors and pay tribute to those of the escarpment.”

“Is it possible that any of them are Keepers of the Lore?” Dannyl asked.

Vakachi spread his hands. “I couldn’t say for sure. Since the Keepers remain hidden by living ordinary lives and saying nothing of their status, there could be some here but nobody knows it.” He smiled. “No, your best chance to meet one is to climb up to the escarpment and seek one among the full blood tribes. Not that your chances are good even then. The Duna have a unique and effective habit of being uncooperative.”

“So I have heard, and read,” Dannyl said.

Vakachi nodded. “Still, it’s possible a foreigner will have greater luck than a Sachakan. I have arranged transportation to the escarpment for you all, setting out tomorrow. It will take a few days. In the meantime,” he gestured to the slaves filing into the room, “eat, rest and be welcome.”

CHAPTER 23 GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

As Sonea entered the treatment room, Dorrien looked closely at her and frowned.

“You look pale,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she told him as she sat down.

“How long has it been since you saw sunlight?”

Sonea considered. She’d been working the night shift for some weeks now, only taking time off to meet with Cery. The morning after the failed attempt to catch Skellin had been the last time she’d seen sunlight, though surely—

“If it’s been so long you have to think about it this much, it’s been too long,” Dorrien told her sternly.

Sonea shrugged. “The short winter days mean it’s dark when I leave the Guild.”

“If you wait until the days get longer, you might not see the sun for weeks.” He crossed his arms. “You’re like some sort of creepy nocturnal creature, and the impression isn’t helped by the black robes and black magic.”

She smiled. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

He chuckled. “Not one bit. But I’d hesitate to invite you over to dinner. You might scare the girls.”

“Hmm … it’s probably my turn to host a dinner.”

“You don’t have to take a turn,” he told her. “You’ve got too many other things on your mind. Have you heard from Cery lately?”

She shook her head. “Just a few cryptic messages. He believes Lorandra will have joined Skellin by now.”

“How is Kallen’s search for Lilia and Naki going?”

“He and his assistants have printed out flyers with drawings and descriptions of the girls, and hired people to hand them out around the city. A few have reported seeing one or both of the girls, but none of the sightings has led him to either of them.”

“People have seen Naki? At least that means she’s alive.”

“If the girl they saw was Naki. Still, the Guard hasn’t found any bodies of young women that look like her.”

Dorrien looked thoughtful. “We should put some of those flyers up in the hospices.”

Sonea nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’ll send a messenger to Kallen before I leave. Pity we didn’t get a picture drawn of Lorandra before she escaped.”

“Her appearance is much more distinctive than the girls’, and so is Skellin’s, but the descriptions we put out of those two haven’t attracted any reports of sightings.”

“No, I suppose—”

A knock at the door interrupted him. Sonea turned in time to see it swing open. Healer Gejen nodded to her politely.

“Black Magician Sonea,” he said politely, before turning to Dorrien. “Your wife is here to see you, Lord Dorrien.”

“Tell her I’ll be out as soon as I’ve finished briefing Sonea,” Dorrien replied.

As the door closed, Dorrien sighed. “I was wondering how long it would take before she gathered the courage to check on me here.”

“Check on you?”

“Yes. To make sure we’re not up to anything she wouldn’t approve of.”

Sonea shook her head. “I don’t understand. What does she think we do here? Is she afraid I’ll corrupt you?”

“In a way.”

“She thinks I might teach you black magic?” Sonea threw up her hands in exasperation. “How can I convince her to trust me?”

“It’s not that she distrusts you. She’s in awe of you. And she’s jealous.”

She looked at Dorrien. He wore an expression she had seen before. Before she could put a name to it, he spoke again.

“It’s me she doesn’t trust.”

“You? Why ever not?” “Because …” He paused, then looked at her as if meeting her gaze was difficult.

“Because she knows that if there was ever a chance you and I could be together, I’d take it.”

She stared at him, surprised and shocked. Suddenly she understood the look on his face. Guilt. And a cautious longing. An answering guilt rose up within her and she had to look away. All these years, and he has never stopped wanting me. I thought he had, when he met and married Alina. I was relieved to be free of the burden of not returning his feelings.

She had been caught up in grief then, still in love with a man she had lost. There had been no room in her heart to consider another.

Was there now?

No, she thought, but a traitorous feeling rose to contradict that thought. Panic rose but she pushed it aside. I can’t desire Dorrien, she told herself. He is married. It will only make things awkward and painful for all of us. She needed to say something that would end the possibility before it had a chance to take root in her mind. Something tactful, but clear. Something … But she couldn’t think of the right words.

Dorrien stood up. “There. I’ve said it. I …” He broke off as she looked up and met his eyes, then smiled crookedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he finished. He moved to the door, opened it and left the room.

It doesn’t matter what I say, she realised. This is already awkward and painful, and has been for months. I’m just a latecomer to the situation.

Cery’s home was a hole in the ground. However, it was a surprisingly luxurious hole, with all the comforts of an Inner City mansion. It was so luxurious that it was easy for Lilia to forget that she was underground. The only reminder was the small size of the place – it contained only a few rooms – and lack of servants.

Hiring servants would have meant people coming and going, and that would defeat the purpose of having a secret location. Cery’s bodyguard, Gol, had assured her that there were food supplies like dried beans and grains, salted meat and preserved fruit and vegetables stored here in case it became too dangerous to leave. She had never seen anyone cook them. Instead, Gol brought fresh food to the hideout every few days.

Now that Lilia and Anyi were staying there, he had to bring more food more often, which must have made it harder to keep the hideout location secret, or perhaps just have increased the risk that someone would recognise and follow him. Cery had been very insistent that they stay, however. Anyi had argued with him, and lost.

It had amazed Lilia to see how uncowed Anyi was around her employer, considering that he was a Thief. The young woman expressed a mix of loyalty, protectiveness and defiance, and he tolerated the latter with surprising patience. Instead of exerting his will with orders and discipline, he deftly skirted around her demands or objections.

To get Anyi to agree to stay, he didn’t bother trying. He simply turned to Lilia and suggested a deal: he would help her find Naki and keep her hidden from both the Guild and Skellin in exchange for her protecting him and Anyi. She had agreed.

The best way to protect Anyi, it turned out, was to make her stay in the hideout. The easiest way Lilia found to ensure that was to stay in the hideout herself. However, it wasn’t that easy. The more Anyi felt cooped up, the more she spent her excess energy on arguing. Gol’s return with the evening meal had her circling him eagerly.

“Have you seen any sign that Lorandra or Jemmi or Rek are looking for me or Lilia?” she asked.

“No,” he replied, stepping around her and placing a sack on the low table between the guest room chairs.

Anyi turned to Cery. “See? Surely if they’d made the connection they’d be looking for us.”

“Skellin’s not stupid,” Cery replied. “He knows that either you’re with me or out in the city on your own. If you’re on your own the chances are greater that someone will see you and report it to him. If you’re with me … well, he’s already got plenty of people looking for me.”

“But what if Rek didn’t tell Lorandra that I used to work for you?”

“What else is he likely to tell her, and Jemmi, to convince them that you taking Lilia away wasn’t his idea in the first place?”

“He might only have told Jemmi.”

Cery pointed at a chair. “Sit, Anyi,” he ordered.

She obeyed, but continued to stare at him while Gol began removing well-wrapped packets out of the sack and tearing them open. The extra wrapping was to reduce the smell of food escaping and acting as a trail through the tunnels to the hideout. Delicious smells filled the room.

“Jemmi will have told Lorandra you must have been my spy, in the hopes of convincing her there was no plot,” Cery continued. “Like it or not, Anyi, they know your betrayal was faked. You’re stuck here with me.”

Lilia felt a pang of sympathy as Anyi’s shoulders slumped. Not the first time, she wondered if Anyi had told Cery of her encounter with Heyla.

“I didn’t hear that anyone is looking for you,” Gol told Anyi. “But I heard that people are looking for someone who, from your description, sounds like Naki. They’re not our people, or the Guild, I think. They’re people she really wouldn’t want finding her, I reckon.”

Lilia sat up straight. “Someone else is looking for her?”

Gol nodded, then looked at Cery. The Thief’s eyes narrowed.

“So the race begins,” he said.

“Who is looking for her?” Lilia asked. “And why?”

“Skellin,” Cery answered. “It’s no secret that Naki is missing, and that she and Lilia tried to learn black magic. The fact that Naki didn’t succeed only makes her a slightly less appealing captive than Lilia. She can still tell Skellin everything she read and did. After all, if Lilia succeeded with the same information, there’s a chance he would too. If he doesn’t,” Cery looked at Lilia and grimaced, “he knows Lilia cares about Naki. He’ll try to blackmail her into teaching him, in exchange for Naki.”

“We have to find Naki first,” Anyi said.

“Yes.” Cery smiled thinly. “Skellin’s search for her might help us. I have people watching his people. If his look like they’ve found answers, mine will ask the same questions. If his look like they’re about to search somewhere, mine will be watching, ready to help Naki escape.”

A bell chimed somewhere behind the walls. Cery looked at Gol, who gave the opened packets of food a look of regret.

“We’ll save you some,” Cery promised.

The big man sighed and hurried to the hidden door built into the panelling in the room. Anyi rose and grabbed some plates and cutlery from a side cabinet, handed them out, then joined in as Lilia and Cery began to serve themselves and eat. Gol had brought several river fish baked in a salty-sweet sauce, plus roasted winter vegetables and freshly baked bread.

Soon afterwards, Gol returned. This time it was Cery who looked disappointed, as he and Gol left. Once they were alone together, Lilia looked at Anyi.

“Do you think Heyla is out there, telling people she saw us?”

Anyi’s expression darkened. “Probably. She’s done it before. She’ll get herself into more trouble than she realises if she does.”

“Does Cery know about her?”

“Kind of.” Anyi looked pained. “I started working for Cery after Heyla and me weren’t friends any more. I told him a friend had tried to sell me out, but I didn’t tell him who she was.”

“If you weren’t working for Cery, how did she know about him?”

Anyi paused, then shook her head. “Oh, I knew of him. Distantly. Anyway … I’d rather not talk about her.”

Lilia nodded. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

Anyi looked up at Lilia but didn’t smile. Instead she regarded her with a thoughtful expression that contained a hint of speculation.

“What?” Lilia asked.

“Nothing.” Anyi looked away, then back. “How close are you and Naki?”

Lilia looked down at her plate. “Very close. Well, not so close after she thought I’d killed her father.”

Anyi grimaced in sympathy. “Yes, that would test a friendship. Not just for her, thinking that you had done it. It must equally have hurt you that she could even suspect you of having done it.”

Lilia glanced at Anyi reproachfully. The pain of knowing that a friend could believe you’d killed someone was surely nothing like the pain of thinking a friend had killed a loved one. But she does have a point, Lilia found herself thinking. How could Naki have thought I’d done it? Especially after Black Magician Sonea read my mind and said I hadn’t.

The usual pattern of chimes and knocks warned them that someone was approaching the hideout. Anyi leapt up, knocked and tapped in reply, and worked the mechanisms to let Cery and Gol back into the room.

“That was a messenger,” Cery told them. “From the Thief, Enka, who is one of the few not completely owned by Skellin yet. He wants me to help him deal with a problem he has with his neighbour, who he says has a magician working for him. He thinks I can arrange for the Guild to find her.”

“Her?” Lilia asked, her heart skipping. “Is it Naki?”

“He says it’s a woman,” Gol replied. “His description of her sounds nothing like Lorandra.”

“Lorandra hasn’t got any magic,” Anyi pointed out.

“She probably has now,” Lilia told her. “Skellin could have removed the block. But Naki’s powers are blocked.”

Cery frowned. “Perhaps she has removed the block herself as you did.”

“I was only able to do that because I’d learned black magic. Naki hasn’t.”

“Then she must be relying on her reputation to intimidate people, and perhaps using tricks to convince people that she has her powers back. Enka did say he hadn’t seen her use magic yet. We should make sure it’s her before we show ourselves, of course, and be prepared in case it’s a trap set by Skellin. At least we know that he and Lorandra won’t turn up because he’ll expect Guild magicians to arrive. We have Lilia to protect us from non-magical attacks,” he added, bowing to her.

“Why don’t you tell the Guild?” Gol asked, frowning. “Save us the trouble and risk.”

Cery smiled and looked at Lilia. “Because if Lilia rescues Naki, the Guild will look more kindly on her escaping from the Lookout.”

Lilia smiled in reply. I can’t believe I’m thinking this about a Thief, but I’m really starting to like Cery.

The Thief rubbed his hands together and moved back to the chairs. “Come on you lot. Let’s finish eating. We have cunning plans to hatch.”

“So,” a familiar voice said. “I hear you finished your first stone.”

Lorkin turned to see Evar walking along the corridor behind him. He grinned and slowed down to join his friend.

“News travels fast in the stone-makers’ caves,” he observed.

Evar nodded. “We were curious to see how you fared. Stone-making isn’t suited to everyone.”

“I can see why. It takes so much concentration.” Lorkin looked at Evar critically. The young man appeared to be healthy and relaxed. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I thought we’d run into each other in the caves.”

Evar smiled. “You won’t find me in the students’ caves. I’m working on much more sophisticated stones.”

“Too busy to drop by on a friend?”

“Perhaps.”

Lorkin checked his stride. “Wait a moment. You’re a man, so you don’t know bl– … higher magic. How can you be making stones?”

The smile fled from Evar’s face. He bit his lower lip, then looked apologetic. “Uh … I might have exaggerated my role here.”

Lorkin stared at his friend, then burst out laughing. “What do you …? No, actually, I’ll save you having to answer that by not asking.”

“I’m an assistant,” Evar said, lifting his chin in mocking haughtiness. “Sometimes I provide extra magic.”

“And at other times?”

“The caves don’t heat themselves, and stone-makers have an annoying habit of forgetting to eat.”

Lorkin slapped him gently on the shoulder. “All essential to the process.”

“Yes.” Evar straightened. “It is.”

They walked along in companionable silence, turning from the smaller passage into a wider, busier thoroughfare. Lorkin had taken only a few steps when he heard his name called. He looked around and saw the magician he’d seen guarding the queen’s room weeks ago beckoning to him.

“Got to go,” he told Evar. “Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Evar shrugged. “I doubt it. Early start. We’re quite busy right now.”

Lorkin nodded, then hurried to meet the magician.

“You’re to see the queen,” she informed him. She turned and set a pace that had them weaving through the people walking along the corridor. At one point she led him through a door that opened onto an empty narrow passage.

“I didn’t know that existed,” he murmured as they emerged into more familiar parts of the city.

“Short cut,” she said, smiling briefly.

A few turns later they arrived at the door of the queen’s rooms. The magician knocked, then stepped back as the door opened. To Lorkin’s surprise and pleasure, Tyvara stood there. His mood instantly lifted, despite the fact that he’d already been in a good one.

“Tyvara,” he said, smiling.

Only the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, as they did when she was trying to maintain a serious demeanour.

“Lorkin. Come inside.”

As before, the queen was sitting on one of a circle of plain chairs. He placed a hand on his heart and, unlike in the previous visit, she nodded in the formal response.

“Please sit down, Lorkin,” she said, gesturing to the chair beside her.

He obeyed. Tyvara sat at the other side of the old woman. A movement in the doorway to the inner room caught his eye. He looked up to see the queen’s assistant, Pelaya, peering in. She smiled at him, then moved out of sight again.

“I hear you completed a stone,” the queen said.

News does travel fast. “I did.”

“Show me.”

He reached into the pocket of his tunic and drew out the tiny crystal. The queen extended a withered hand, so he dropped it into her palm.

She stared at the stone for a moment, and it began to glow. A satisfied smile spread over her face and she looked up at him, eyes bright.

“Well done. Not many students accomplish a flawless stone on their first attempt. Some here would say you have stone in your blood.” She shrugged. “Obviously not literally.” She handed the stone back. It was already fading. “I am pleased, and not only that you were able to receive what we offered in compensation for the knowledge that was taken from you. I have a task for you.”

He blinked in surprise, then felt his heart sink a little.

“You hesitate,” she noted, her eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said, then because it was clearly not so: “I was looking forward to making another stone. Learning more. But that can wait.”

Zarala chuckled. “Were you? Well, what Kalia took from you was a basic understanding of Healing. We have given you a basic understanding of stone-making. I’m afraid you, as she, will have to learn more through experimentation, without the aid of generations of knowledge.”

Lorkin nodded, though he was not happy. Not only would he not be taught any more, but Kalia would be allowed to use what she had taken from him.

“Besides, there is no time for you to learn all we know about stone-making,” she told him. “There are more pressing matters to attend to. That is why I am ordering you to leave Sanctuary and return to Kyralia.”

He looked up at her in surprise and, unexpectedly, dismay. He did not want to leave. No, that’s not entirely true. I do want to leave. I want to be able to see my mother and friends again. But I want to be able to return to Sanctuary, too. He looked at Tyvara. Will I see her again? She smiled. It was a reassuring smile. It seemed to say “wait and see”.

The queen’s expression was knowing, and perhaps a little mischievous. She looked at Tyvara, then back at him. Her expression became serious again. “When you arrive, and if you are received well, you are to begin negotiations between us and the Allied Lands for an alliance.”

Lorkin could not help letting out a small gasp of amazement. This is what I hoped for! Well, I hoped the Traitors and Guild would trade magical knowledge after an alliance, not before it, but …

“Tyvara will guide you out of the mountains, then you will journey to Arvice to rejoin the Kyralian Ambassador. To keep what you know of us secret, we will give you a blocking stone. Though it would be politically harmful for the king and Ashaki if anybody read your mind against your will, they may decide it’s worth it for the chance to find us. We would take you straight to the pass into Kyralia, but the mountains are too dangerous for travel at this time of year, with the Ichani growing bolder out of hunger.” She fixed him with her bright eyes. “Will you do this?” she asked.

He nodded. “Gladly.”

“Good. Now, there is something I must give you.”

She picked up a small bag that he hadn’t noticed lying on her lap. Loosening the ties, she upended it and a rough, chunky ring fell into one palm. Holding it up, she regarded it, her expression thoughtful and sad, then extended her hand to him.

He took the ring. The band was gold, but very roughly fashioned, as if made of clay by a child. Set within it was a dark red gemstone.

“Your father gave this to me a long time ago. In fact, I instructed him on how to make it. Of course, it no longer works.”

A chill ran up Lorkin’s spine, and his heart missed a beat. Father made this! He turned it over and over, the stone catching the light. Did Father know stone-making? Surely not. The answer was suddenly clear to him. It must be a blood gem. The implications of that hit him like a slap. “You were in communication with him all along!”

Zarala nodded. Her eyes were misty. “Yes. For a time.”

“So you know why he didn’t return here!”

“If he ever made a decision about that, he never told me.” She sighed. “I know he returned home out of fear the Ichani would invade, and I disagreed with him. I didn’t believe the danger was immediate. Afterwards … there was always something that prevented him leaving Kyralia. And there was more to our deal than an exchange of higher magic and freedom for Healing.” She shook her head. “I was never able to uphold one thing I agreed to. Like him, the situation at home was more difficult to overcome than I’d hoped. After my daughter died, I … I stopped contacting him. I knew I was partly to blame for her death, for asking too much from him, and agreeing to give too much in return.”

The old queen drew in a deep breath, then let it out again. Her thin shoulders rose and fell.

“We were both young and idealistic, thinking we could do more than we could. I believe he intended to return. My people didn’t agree and I couldn’t convince them otherwise without revealing what it was that I’d failed to do.” She reached out, cupped her hands around Lorkin’s and bent his fingers in around the stone.

Over their hands, she looked at him and her gaze was steady.

“Sending you to Kyralia will go some way toward me doing what I agreed to do. I only hope that, unlike your father, I live long enough to keep my promise. Now go.” She released his hands and straightened. “Tyvara has made the preparations and it’s a clear night outside. Be careful and be safe.”

Rising, he bowed in respect. Then, with Tyvara leading, he left the room and the city he had expected to make his home for a lot longer than a few short months.

CHAPTER 24 A MEETING

The horses that carried people up the road to the escarpment were short, sturdy creatures. Dannyl was sure his feet would have been scraping the ground if his mount had not had such a broad girth. The beasts didn’t often carry people, since visitors to Duna – or to the dryer areas – were rare. They were more used to carrying food and other supplies.

Carriages were too wide for the narrow road, which twisted and turned on itself at angles impossible for a vehicle to manage. The high side of the slope was so close that Dannyl had occasionally scraped his boots on the rock wall. His other boot hovered over a near-vertical cliff plunging down either to a stretch of the road below, or to the distant valley floor.

Though he had no fear of heights, he’d found that the constant threat of such a precipice put him on edge. Achati appeared to grit his teeth and resolutely set his gaze on the road ahead. Tayend, despite not having the reassurance of magic to call upon should he or his horse slip, didn’t appear to be bothered at all.

The benefit of the exposed, precarious journey was the view.

The road had begun about mid-way along the valley, the wider end of which spread out behind them, divided into fields dotted at the edges with clusters of houses. A pale band of grey sand separated the green land from the blue ocean. Ahead, the valley narrowed, the cliffs undulating as they drew closer to each other. A ribbon of water threaded through it all, glistening whenever the sun reflected off its surface.

Looking ahead, Dannyl saw that there were several people standing at the next turn. The only places on the path wide enough for travellers to pass each other were bends where it switched back on itself. The people waiting were clearly Duna: slim, grey-skinned, and dressed in only a cloth wrapped about their waist and groin. They were carrying large sacks across their shoulders.

The guide called out a greeting as he neared. The tribesmen – there were no women among them – did not reply or move. Perhaps they made some sign of greeting, because the guide was smiling as he turned and started up the next section of road. Achati was next to turn, and his expression did not change from the same look of grim determination he’d worn since they’d started the climb. Dannyl smiled at the men as he passed. They stared at him in return, their faces impassive but showing neither hostility nor friendliness. He wondered if they felt as much curiosity about him as he did about them. Had any Kyralians visited their lands before? Had any Guild magicians?

I might be the first.

He looked back to see Tayend smiling as his mount turned in behind Dannyl. The Elyne saw Dannyl watching and grinned. “Exciting, isn’t it?”

Dannyl could not help smiling in reply. As he turned away he felt an unexpected wave of affection for his former lover. He embraces life as if it’s all a big adventure. I do miss that about him.

“And we’re nearly there,” Tayend added.

Looking up, Dannyl saw that the next stretch of road was short. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw the guide turn to the right and disappear. Achati followed, and then it was Dannyl’s turn.

After a full day of riding, the change of surroundings was so abrupt it left Dannyl feeling disorientated. Suddenly the horizon had returned. The land was so flat there was nothing between Dannyl and the line where the grey earth met the sky.

Nothing except a whole lot of tents, he corrected himself, as his horse turned to follow Achati’s. Even then, the gathering of temporary homes blended with the colour of the land. It looked like a tangle of cloth and poles.

“It’s hot up here,” Tayend said, riding up beside Dannyl. “If this is what winter is like, I’m glad we didn’t come in summer.”

“We must be about as far north as Lonmar,” Dannyl replied. “The difference between seasons there isn’t as great as it is in the south. Duna may be the same.”

He didn’t add that it was the end of the day, and the heat given off by the sun now hanging low in the sky would not be as strong as at midday. As in Lonmar, the air was dry, but here it had a different taste.

Ash, he thought. It blew into his face, finer than the sand that got into everything in Lonmar. I wonder if they have the same fierce dust storms.

The edge of the tents was a few hundred paces from the precipice. As the riders approached, the Duna stopped to stare at them. The guide called out the same greeting, then pulled his horse to a stop a dozen paces from the audience.

“These people have come to speak to the tribes,” he said, his voice lower and respectful. “Who has the Voice?”

Two of the men pointed toward a gap in the tents. The guide thanked them, then directed his mount into the opening, Achati, Dannyl and Tayend following. Every ten or so tents the guide repeated the question, and each time set off in the direction the Duna pointed in.

Soon they were surrounded by tents. Dannyl could not make out where the camp stopped. Some were tattered and well patched. Others looked newer. All were coated in grey dust. Of a similar size, they appeared to be occupied by extended families, from small children to wrinkled old men and women. Everyone in between was occupied in some task – cooking, sewing, weaving, carving, washing, mending tents – but all with slow, steady movements. Some stopped to watch the strangers pass. Others continued on as if visitors were of no interest.

A small crowd of children began following them. It rapidly swelled to a larger one, but although the children giggled, talked and pointed, they were not rowdy or noisy.

The sun had dipped close to the horizon by the time they found what they were searching for. Outside a tent no more extraordinary than the rest sat a ring of old men, cross-legged, on a blanket on the ground.

“These people have come to speak to the tribes,” he told them, pointing at Achati, Dannyl and Tayend. “They have questions to ask. Who has the Voice? Who can answer the questions?”

“We are the Voice today,” one of the old men answered. He stood up, his eyes moving from the guide, who was dismounting, to Achati, Dannyl and Tayend as they followed suit. “Who asks the questions?”

The guide turned and nodded to Achati. “Introduce yourselves,” he instructed quietly. “Only you, not your companions.”

Achati stepped forward. “I am Ashaki Achati,” he said. “Adviser to King Amakira and escort to … these men.”

Dannyl moved forward to stand beside him, then inclined his head in the Kyralian manner. “I am Ambassador Dannyl of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia.”

Tayend followed with a courtly bow. “I am Elyne Ambassador Tayend. An honour to meet you.”

The old man exchanged a look with his fellows, who nodded. They shuffled outward to widen the circle. “Sit,” he invited.

“We have brought gifts,” Achati said. He moved to his horse’s saddle-bags and removed a package, then returned and set it down in the middle of the circle.

“You know our customs,” the speaker observed. “And follow them.” The last was said with a hint of wry surprise. One of the other old men reached for the package and opened it. Inside were finely made knives, a box containing a glass lens, a roll of good-quality paper, and a writing set with pen and ink. The old men hummed with pleasure. From the way they handled the items it was clear they were familiar with their uses, despite the fact that they would not be easily obtainable in Duna. The speaker nodded.

“Ask your questions. Know that we may not answer at once. We may not answer at all.”

Achati looked at Dannyl and nodded. Dannyl ran through all the approaches he’d considered during the journey.

“Many years ago I began a task,” he began. “To write a history of magic. I have sought the answer to many questions, concerning both ancient and recent events, and …” he sighed, “the answers have led to more questions.”

A few of the old men smiled a little at that.

“The most puzzling discovery I made was that my people, many hundreds of years ago, possessed something called a storestone. It was kept in Arvice until a magician, through avarice or madness, stole it. The records of that time suggest that he used it, perhaps in a confrontation with his pursuers, perhaps by mistake, perhaps even deliberately, to create the wasteland that borders the mountains between Sachaka and Kyralia.”

The old men were all nodding. “We know of this wasteland,” the leader said.

“My questions are … what was this storestone? Do any more exist? Does the knowledge of how to make one still exist? If it does, how could any land defend itself against its use?”

The spokesman chuckled. “You have many questions.”

“Yes,” Dannyl agreed. “Should I limit them?”

“You may ask as many as you wish.”

“Ah, that’s good.” Dannyl smiled in gratitude. “I have a lot. Well, I mostly want to ask about magical gemstones. Not for the secrets of how to make them, of course. But they are a new kind of magic for me. What can they do? What are their limitations? A Duna tracker named Unh told me that the Traitors stole some of this knowledge from you. How much do they know?”

The old man looked at Achati. “That is a question you would like the answer to as well.”

Achati nodded. “Of course. But if you wish to speak to Dannyl alone, then I will leave.”

The old man’s eyebrows rose. He looked at each of his fellow tribesmen in turn. They made no signal that Dannyl could detect, but somehow they communicated their feelings to him. As he finished gazing at the last of them, he looked up at Dannyl.

“Are these all the questions you have?”

Dannyl nodded, then smiled wryly. “Unless the answers raise more questions.”

“We must discuss and decide what answers we may give you,” the man said. “And some questions can only be answered by a Keeper of the Lore, who may not agree to speak to you. There is a tent here for guests that you are welcome to sleep in, while you wait.”

Dannyl looked at Achati, who nodded. “We would be honoured – and very grateful,” Dannyl replied.

The old man called out, and a young man hurried out of a tent. “Gan will take you there,” said the spokesman, gesturing towards the newcomer.

Achati, Dannyl and Tayend climbed to their feet, and joined their guide as he followed the young man into the forest of tents.

The late-afternoon sun cast a cool light over the Guild gardens. Trees and hedges cast deep shadows, and it had taken Sonea a while to find a bench still in sunlight. Fortunately there were few magicians occupying the gardens, since the air still had a crisp winter chill to it. She could feel the cold of the wooden slats through the cloth of her robes.

It had been two days since she had spoken to Dorrien. The previous evening she had delayed her arrival at the hospice so that he was already gone by the time she arrived. It had been cowardly, she knew.

But I haven’t decided what to say to him. She knew that she should tell him she could not have a relationship with him other than friendship. But he’ll see the evasion in that. “Could not” was different to “would not”. He would want her to make it clear that she did not feel the same way about him as he had admitted he still did about her. And if I tell him that, he’ll pick up on my uncertainty and doubt.

When she considered the idea she felt a traitorous longing, but she was unsure about the source of that, too. Am I just craving company? Someone to come home to? Was she simply wanting physical contact?

So much for telling Rothen I don’t want a husband. And yet … I don’t.

Company and desire weren’t all that a relationship of that kind needed. There must be love, too. Romantic love. And that’s where I falter. Do I love Dorrien? I don’t know. Surely I would know, if I did. Maybe it isn’t so obvious, for older people.

The other ingredient she considered essential was respect, and that troubled her the most. Dorrien is married. If he was unfaithful to Alina with me, I would lose respect for him. And myself.

When she pictured herself telling him this, she felt such a reluctance to spoil things that she was beginning to doubt her own doubts. How could she be unsure whether she loved him, and yet so resistant to ending all possibility of love between them?

How I wish I could talk to Rothen about this. He would disapprove, she knew. At the same time he would point out, perhaps not directly, that it was all her fault for missing her chance with Dorrien. It would upset him that Dorrien and Alina were not getting along.

I wish Dorrien would just take his wife back to the village, she thought, then she immediately felt guilty. At least Alina would be happier, she couldn’t help adding. Dorrien would be too, after a while. It’s where he’s always felt he belonged.

He had adjusted to living in the city remarkably well, though. Perhaps he wasn’t as wedded to the country as he’d always maintained he was. It was fortunate, since she so badly needed his help finding Skellin.

Or do I? Cery still does most of the work. A couple of magicians were never going to match a Thief’s spy network. But I still need someone to help me capture Skellin – even more so now that Lorandra has escaped. I can’t let anything between Dorrien and I prevent us from capturing the rogues.

Not talking to Dorrien was doing exactly that.

The shadows were so long now that only her shoulders were in sunlight. Sighing, she stood and started toward the path that ran alongside the University. I may as well get this over and done with. She reached the path and started walking toward the front of the building. If she left now there would be an hour or two before her shift officially started. Plenty of time to sort this out.

The wait for a carriage and the journey to the hospice seemed to take longer than usual. Her heart was beating a little too fast as she walked down the corridor to the room Dorrien was working in. She knocked on the door and took a deep breath as it opened.

“Black Magician Sonea,” an unexpected voice said behind her. She glimpsed Dorrien’s face – looking both hopeful and guilty – before she turned to face the speaker. It was a young Healer – a shy Lonmar who had decided upon graduation to gain some experience with working among the common people before returning to his home.

“Yes?”

The man bowed, handed her a folded slip of paper, sealed with wax, then flushed and hurried away.

She broke the seal and read the letter. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as she read Cery’s instructions, despite the fact that messages like these had led to disappointment in the past. She turned to Dorrien, who was eyeing her thoughtfully.

“You’re finished here for the day, Dorrien,” she told him. “But you’d best send Alina an apology for missing dinner. We’ve got work to do in the city.”

“Wait here.”

Though short and thin, the man sent to guide them to the meeting place by the Thief called Enka had exhibited a coldness and efficiency that made him more intimidating to Lilia than Cery’s big bodyguard.

There’s something about him that disturbs me, she found herself thinking. I reckon he’d do anything his boss told him to, and it wouldn’t bother him. Anything.

He’d led her, Anyi, Cery and Gol to a half-ruined empty warehouse on one of the less-used wharves of the marina. Anyi had assured her that there were more of Cery’s people involved, following at a discreet distance. They would be finding places to watch from, places they could emerge from quickly if Cery signalled for help.

“Where should we position ourselves?” Anyi asked. She was looking up. “Pity we can’t get up there.”

Lilia followed the woman’s gaze. The frame of the warehouse was exposed, and the huge beams looked more than solid enough to keep the building standing for a long while yet. The end of the building had once had a mezzanine floor, complete with a row of windows, but the floorboards had rotted away or been salvaged. She could see why Anyi thought it a good vantage point. The windows would allow a view of the rest of the dock.

Moonlight shone through the windows, making it hard to distinguish details of the wall. Shading her eyes, she saw that one of the large beams ran along bricks where it had once supported the floorboards.

“If we could, do you think we could balance on that beam?” Lilia asked.

Anyi moved closer, then shrugged. “Easy.” She looked at Cery and Gol. “What about you two?”

Cery looked at her and smiled. “I reckon I’d manage. Gol?”

“I s’pose. But how are we going to get up there?”

“Easily, with Lilia’s help,” Anyi said.

Lilia looked from Anyi to Gol and hid a smile. This wasn’t the first time she’d picked up a little competitive rivalry between the two of them. She followed Anyi to the wall with the first-floor windows. Then Anyi turned and grabbed Lilia’s arms.

“Do your thing, Lilia.”

Creating a disc of magic under their feet, Lilia lifted them both up to the beam. Anyi stepped onto it, grinning. Lilia descended again.

With the merest of shrugs, Cery took hold of Lilia’s arms. She levitated him up to the beam and when he was safely perched on it, holding the frame of the nearest window to steady himself, she dropped back down again.

Gol looked at her, then up at Cery, his eyes wide. He took a step back, palms outward.

“I’m not—”

“Get up here, Gol,” Cery ordered tersely. Lilia glanced up. Cery was peering around the frame of a window, looking outside the building.

She heard Gol step closer and turned her attention back to him. He was hesitating again. She heard footsteps outside the warehouse.

“Now,” Cery hissed.

Someone was coming.

Lilia stepped forward and grabbed Gol’s arms, hoping he wouldn’t cry out in protest or fear. She lifted them both upwards. To his credit, he made only a quiet yip of surprise. She moved to a place on the beam where an upright would give him something sturdy to grab hold of, and he immediately wrapped his arms around it.

With her own feet on the beam, she expanded the disc to form a shield surrounding them all, taking care to make it invisible.

The door below opened. Three men moved inside.

“Silent,” one man said. “The hinge has been oiled.”

“For this, or another meet?”

Nobody answered, and the three looked around the warehouse. One even glanced up at the windows, but didn’t appear to see them. Probably half blinded by the moonlight, like we were.

The men left. Lilia let out the breath she had been holding and moved to a window. The openings had long ago lost both glass and mullion framework. She peered around the edge of the hole, and what she saw outside made her heart stop.

A fishing boat was moored to the wharf. The three men who had inspected the warehouse were walking toward two pairs of people. The first pair was a slim old man who she guessed was Enka, because his companion was the man who had been their guide.

The other couple consisted of a rather fat, well-dressed man and a slim woman who, if anything, was more beautiful in the moonlight than daylight. Lilia’s heart felt as if it had begun to glow inside her.

Naki! I’ve found her at last!

Beyond the two groups were more men. She could not tell if they belonged with Naki’s Thief or Enka.

It doesn’t matter, she thought. They’re not magicians. They can’t stop me. She put a foot up on the sill of the window, then paused.

“Go on,” a voice whispered at her side. She turned to see that Anyi had shuffled along the beam to stand next to the window. “Cery says don’t forget to protect Enka and his second.”

Lilia nodded in gratitude, then drew magic and sent it out in two directions to surround Cery’s allies and Naki. She climbed up onto the sill, crouching to duck under the lintel, and stepped out.

The people outside didn’t notice her float to the ground, but Naki was looking around, having detected the shield around her as it bumped up against her own. Oh good, Lilia thought. She can protect herself. She let the shield drop. Something about Naki’s shield nagged at her, however. She began to walk toward the people, half hidden behind the three men who had investigated the warehouse.

“There’s another magician here,” Naki said in a warning tone.

At once all began to cast about, and spotted Lilia quickly. The three men parted, backing away in fear and uncertainty as Lilia passed between them.

“Naki,” Lilia said, then smiled. Her friend was staring at her in surprise. “It’s so good to see you. What trouble have you got yourself into this time?”

“Lilia.” Naki did not speak the name with hatred or accusation, to Lilia’s relief. But she didn’t speak it fondly, either. “Why are you here?”

“To help you.”

Naki sent a flash of light through her shield. “As you can tell, I don’t need your help.”

Lilia gazed at her friend and realised this was what had been nagging at her. She’s right. She doesn’t need my help. She has magic. Somehow she or someone else has removed the block. That’s what was so strange about her shield – she shouldn’t be able to raise one. And then the real meaning behind Naki’s words hit her.

Naki did not want to be rescued.

She’s quite happy working for a Thief. In fact, she probably disappeared deliberately. Unless …? Lilia did something risky then. She spoke with her mind, as softly as possible in the hope that nobody in the Guild would hear.

—Are you being blackmailed?

Naki laughed. “No, you slow-witted fool. This is what I planned all along: get away from the Guild and all their rules and suffocating judgement and be free to do whatever I want.”

Her stare was full of hatred now. Lilia felt a familiar wave of guilt, but she resisted the urge to look away. I did not kill her father, she told herself. She has no reason to hate me. But uncertainty remained. Naki clearly did not want to be rescued. What do I do now?

Naki was breaking the law – but she knew that. Pointing it out was not going to persuade her to return to the Guild. However, if she knew Skellin was after her she might. She’d need the protection of the Guild. Unless … what if Naki was happy to switch from one Thief employer to another? Lilia realised that she needed to take a different approach. One that appealed to Naki’s nature.

“Are you truly free?” Lilia asked. She looked at the fat Thief pointedly.

Naki smiled. Clearly she had expected this argument. “As free as I want to be. Freer than I’d be in the Guild.”

“But for how long?” Lilia asked. “There are people after you. Not the Guild. Powerful rogue magicians.”

“Great.” Naki shrugged. “Then we’ll have a drink and swap stories.”

“They’re not after conversation,” Lilia told her, annoyed at Naki’s refusal to see the danger. “They’ll force you to tell them what was in the book, then they’ll kill you.”

Naki frowned. “The book?” A piercing whistle rang out from the direction of the warehouse, and the girl glanced in that direction before turning back to Lilia. “Oh, you mean black magic? Really, do you think I’d teach them that?”

Something began to bang against the shield Lilia was holding around Cery’s allies. She glanced to the side to see that Cery’s Thief friend and his companion were trying to get out of the barrier. Then she noticed that the fat Thief and his men were moving away toward the fishing boat. Hoping that there was nobody left to harm Cery’s allies, she let the shield around them fall.

Naki was walking toward her. The shadows made her smile look like a crazed grin.

“You know …” She tilted her head to one side and her expression became thoughtful. “… if the price was right, working with the rogues might be tempting.”

She was a few steps away. Her stare was predatory and dangerous. Lilia found herself backing away and strengthening the shield around herself.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, of course not. It wouldn’t be smart, would it? I’d be creating potential enemies as powerful as me.”

“As powerful as …” Lilia stopped backing away. “You did learn black magic that night!”

“No.” Naki’s beautiful mouth widened into an ugly, selfsatisfied smile. “I taught myself before we even met.”

She spread her fingers, and a bolt of magic clashed against Lilia’s shield. This was no cautious practice strike in Warrior classes. It was a blast that forced Lilia back, then to desperately draw forth more power than she’d ever needed to before to hold her shield up.

I ought to strike back. Lessons returned to her. A shield took more magic than a strike. If two combatants were equal in strength, the one who shielded more would fail first. But this is Naki. What if I hurt her? What if I kill her?

Clearly, Naki wasn’t having any of the same doubts. Her words echoed in Lilia’s mind. “I taught myself before we even met.” That meant Naki had known the instructions in the book would work. She had known she was ruining Lilia’s life. Lilia felt her heart shrivel away from the thought. Why would Naki do that? To share the crime with another? Which meant Lilia hadn’t been the only person in the house who knew black magic the night Lord Leiden had died.

But surely she wouldn’t kill her own father …

Who else could it have been? Suddenly Lilia had to know for sure – and the only way she could do that was to ensure Naki was captured, so that Black Magician Sonea could read her mind. Or me. I could read her mind.

The best chance she had at that was to fight back. Carefully. She’d never know the truth if Naki died. So she threw magic back at Naki. At first the strikes were meagre things compared to Naki’s, and the other girl laughed, but Lilia found she rapidly grew used to using this much power. Naki’s strikes were careless, which sent a trickle of fear through Lilia.

If she’s known black magic for so long, has she been strengthening herself? I haven’t used black magic once. I’m only as strong as I naturally am, and I’ve been levitating a lot …

That thought sent a rush of panic through Lilia. She pushed it aside as best she could. Though she could feel herself trembling, she managed to keep her strikes accurate and her shield steady. A part of her was amused to see that Naki, despite being best at the Warrior discipline, wasn’t bothering to do anything tricky or cunning, but her amusement fled as she realised this was because she didn’t have to. She wanted this over as soon as possible.

Abruptly, Lilia reached for power and found her strength depleted. She gasped with horror and disbelief as her shield faltered, and braced herself for the blow that would kill her. Naki gave a crow of triumph, but the strike did not come. To Lilia’s immense relief, the girl stopped striking and started toward her.

“You haven’t taken magic, have you?” Naki said, snaking a hand out and grabbing Lilia’s arm. She shook her head. “All this time you were free and you never took power. You always were stupid and gullible.” With a push, she turned Lilia around and twisted her arm behind her back. Pain shot through Lilia’s arm and shoulder.

“If you’re so smart, why are you working for a Thief?” Lilia replied. “Why isn’t he working for you?”

Naki laughed quietly. “Oh, I’m just learning the ropes.”

She shifted, and something cold and sharp touched Lilia’s neck. In the corner of her eye Lilia could see the moonlight catch the edge of a knife. A chill rushed through her body as she realised what Naki intended to do, followed by a deep, rending hurt in her chest. She’s going to kill me after all. All along I’ve been hoping she has been caught up in one of her crazy schemes. That she’s being reckless, and doesn’t really want to hurt me. But she doesn’t love me. She probably never did.

She’s right. I am a fool …

Then Naki yanked Lilia backwards and let her go. Lilia heard a crack as she staggered, off balance, tripped and fell onto her backside.

From somewhere nearby, someone uttered a curse.

Shouts rang out, then the sound of running. Looking around, Lilia saw Anyi, Gol and Cery hurrying toward her. From another direction came a magician, black robes snapping.

Sonea?

The Black Magician did not look at Lilia as she ran past. Turning, Lilia saw Sonea throw herself onto her knees next to Naki, who was lying on the wharf, and grasp the girl’s head. Which was bent at a strange angle.

As she watched, the head slowly moved back to a natural position, colour returning to Naki’s face. The girl groaned and opened her eyes. She looked up at Sonea and groaned again.

“Yes. Me.” Sonea’s expression changed from relieved to grim. She got to her feet. “You may not want to thank me for saving your life.”

Naki sat up and rubbed at her neck. “Why should I? You nearly killed me.”

Sonea looked at her as if she wanted to say more, then changed her mind. She took hold of Naki’s arm and hauled her to her feet, then turned to Lilia. “Cery assures me you’ll come back to the Guild willingly now.”

Following her gaze, Lilia saw that Cery, Anyi and Gol were standing right behind her, along with two other magicians in green robes who she had never seen before.

“Yes,” Lilia replied. “Now that I’ve found her.” Anyi held out a hand and helped Lilia climb to her feet.

“Anything broken?” Anyi murmured.

“Just my pride.”

“And your heart, I think.”

Lilia stared at Anyi, who gave her a knowing look before stepping away. “Well, I guess you’ll be going back to the Guild now. Drop around from time to time. You’ll always be welcome.”

Lilia winced. “I don’t think I’m going to have much chance of visiting anybody.”

Anyi’s smile faded. “Well then … we’ll just have to drop in on you.”

Sonea looked from Anyi to Lilia thoughtfully, then turned to Cery. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

He smiled. “Always do. I’m happy to wait until you haven’t got your hands full, and I’m sure the Guild will be keen to have this one back in their hands as soon as possible.” He gestured towards Naki.

Sonea gave him a level look. “Another time, then.”

He nodded, stepped back and waved a hand. “Goodnight, then.”

As the Black Magician stepped away, Anyi patted Lilia on the shoulder. “They’d better treat you right, or I’ll come bust you out myself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lilia told her, though she wasn’t sure if that was true.

As she joined Sonea, Naki and the other magicians, Cery, Gol and Anyi started toward the warehouse. Then something occurred to Lilia. She’d left the trio stranded there so … “How’d you get down from the beam?” she called after them.

Anyi paused to look back, grinning. “With not as much difficulty and swearing as the others.” Then she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Lilia wondering if she would ever see her rescuer again.

CHAPTER 25 GIVING AND WITHHOLDING

The environment outside Sanctuary had changed so much since Lorkin had last travelled through it that he could imagine the city had been lifted up and deposited in a new place. Everything was covered in snow. It gathered in deep drifts, and clung to rocky slopes. Icicles hung from every overhang and wind-twisted tree.

When they had left the city, Tyvara had blindfolded him and led him out of another secret entrance via a long passage. Once outside, they’d kept to the valleys and avoided the treacherous snow on the ridges, which was likely to slide off under the press of a foot. Their mode of transport was also different. Each of them had a smooth board, curved at the front and with supplies strapped onto the back, used as individual sledges. Sliding downhill was exhilarating, and definitely preferable to hauling the sledges uphill while trudging through the snow.

For three days they had travelled this way, their progress slow but steady. Each night they unrolled the mattresses that were part of a Traitor’s travelling kit and slept under the stars, keeping themselves warm with magic. They talked from time to time, when sledging or the effort of slogging through the snow didn’t prevent them from doing so, but at night they were both too exhausted for conversation.

They had not been travelling long on the third day when the sky darkened and wind began to batter them. Falling snow soon thickened to a whirling curtain that reduced their view to a few paces. Tyvara led him onto a narrow path along a cliff face – more a natural fold in the rock – that led downward. They had to carry the sledges, which made the descent even more precarious. He wondered why Tyvara didn’t stop and find somewhere sheltered to wait out the storm, but before he could call out and suggest it, a cave mouth appeared ahead of them.

They hurried through into darkness. Tyvara paused to create a globe light, revealing a tunnel-like cave. A wall of ice ran along one side. This is probably an overhang that’s been buried, Lorkin thought as he followed Tyvara along the cave. She moved to a flat area and set down her sledge. He dropped his next to hers and sighed with relief.

“We may as well stay here until the weather clears,” she said.

Lorkin nodded in agreement. As Tyvara unrolled their mattresses on the floor, he felt his mood lift. At least they could now spend a little time together, not exhausted or occupied in moving. And it would delay the moment they had to part.

Sitting on his mattress, he busied himself with heating a little water and making some raka. She smiled as he handed her a steaming cup.

“This is the start of a larger valley that stretches down to the Sachakan plains,” she told him. “You’ll be able to make your way down it easily, to the road.”

“So this is as far as you’re going?”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Yes.”

What then? he wondered. Will we ever see each other again? Will she even miss me? A mix of emotions welled up into his throat: longing, doubt, regret, even bitterness. He wanted to somehow convey all of it, but he remembered Chari’s appraisal of Tyvara. She did not want to be encumbered. To seek a bond with her would only drive her away.

“I am …” she began. He waited for her to continue, but she frowned and fell silent.

“Yes?” he asked. Not seeking a bond is one thing, but I’m not going to let her get away with mysterious unfinished sentences.

Tyvara shook her head. “I knew this would happen. I didn’t want to become attached to you because I knew, if I did, something would take you away.”

Suddenly he couldn’t stop smiling. She looked up and frowned.

“What’s so funny?”

“I love you, too,” he said.

She stared at him, then a smile slowly spread across her face. “I’m not very good at this, am I?”

He shook his head. “Appalling.”

“Well … there it is. What a pair we are. Except we’re not a pair, since you’re heading home and I’m … well, I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll promise to come back.”

She put a hand out and touched his mouth. “Make no promises.”

He made a sound of protest, then took her hand. “No promises? I’d at least like to know you’re not going to tuck up in bed with someone else while I’m gone.”

She gave a short laugh. “Despite all our efforts to adopt the roles that men have in other societies, we Traitor women haven’t managed to match all of their despicable ways. Though I’ll admit there are certainly a few women who seem bent on bedding every man in Sanctuary,” she added, with a grimace.

He looked at her. “That’s no promise.”

“That’s all you’re going to get,” she told him.

He shrugged and sipped his raka. Well, it isn’t as if I’ve asked her to marry me. I’m not even sure how that works here. Women choose their men, so I gather she’s supposed to ask me.

“You should take power from me before you go,” she said quietly.

Surprised, he looked at her. “Using black magic?”

“Of course. You haven’t noticed, since it’s done privately, but non-magician Traitors regularly donate power to the magicians. There was no time to arrange this for you before you left. I have plenty of extra power, and I can replace it easily enough when I get back. You shouldn’t venture back into Sachaka without first increasing your store of it. The Ashaki might be suspicious of a Kyralian magician wandering about not wearing robes. They might recognise you and, knowing where you’ve been, treat you as they would a Traitor. The mind-blocking stone will stop them discovering anything about us by reading your mind, but it won’t stop them trying to get the information out of you in other ways. Taking a little extra power from me won’t hold them off long, but it may be enough to get you away from them if they’re not expecting it.”

Lorkin felt a chill run down his spine. He looked away, hoping his fear didn’t show.

“Is it … am I … allowed to take it?” he asked.

“Of course you are. In fact, the queen suggested it. She also suggested I teach you Lover’s Death.”

He turned to stare at her, then felt his face warm. “With … you?”

She smiled. “Who else is there?”

“But …” She obviously didn’t want him to kill her and he certainly hoped the queen didn’t mean for Tyvara to kill him.

Tyvara smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said. “The name isn’t appealing, but it’s not only useful for killing people or draining them to the point of exhaustion. For most couples or lovers it’s a much more enjoyable way to give or receive power.” Her eyebrows had risen on the words “much more enjoyable”, and now she was regarding him coyly, her eyes dark and inviting.

His heart began to race. He hoped he understood what she was suggesting. But he could be wrong …

“So. Do you want me to teach you?”

He nodded.

“It takes a certain self-control for a man to bring a woman to the point where he can take power from her. You think you can manage that?”

He smiled and nodded again.

“Well then, let the lesson begin.”

For the next who-cares-how-long, more than an exotic kind of magic was learned. As instructed, he attuned himself to the whole new awareness of the power within his body, and where it brushed up against hers. When he sensed her natural barrier falter … it was fascinating in all kinds of ways and he nearly forgot to try drawing power from her.

And then he saw how it prolonged the moment for her, and he knew why Evar hadn’t been so bothered by his draining. Suddenly he was really looking forward to learning what it was like to give power. He stopped drawing from her, reasoning that he did not know how much power he could safely take.

“Do you trust me?” she asked, when she had regained her composure.

He nodded rapidly. She laughed, then taught him why giving was even better than taking.

Despite the hard, narrow beds and Tayend’s snoring, and the constant, irritating sensation of dust in his nostrils and lungs, Dannyl slept soundly and woke to find sunlight filtering through the half-closed flap of the tent. He rose and stepped outside. A blanket was spread out in front of the tent, and he shook the dust off it before sitting down to watch the activity in the camp.

Not long after, a woman peered around a tent at him, smiled and disappeared. She soon returned carrying a sling-like woven bag full of food, and a bowl of water. The food was the same sort of fare that the guide had provided – fruit and preserved meats grown and prepared in the canyon below. There can’t be much grown up here, and though I’ve seen some domestic animals I’ve seen nothing growing around here that they could eat.

He puzzled over how the Duna of the camp fed themselves and their animals until another two occupants of the tent emerged. Tayend and Achati blinked in the morning sunlight, then joined Dannyl on the blanket, with Achati pausing long enough to wake the guide.

The man came out grumbling, but cheered up when he saw the bag of food. He headed off through the tents, then returned with a pack full of utensils. When mugs and a pack of raka powder appeared, Dannyl took them and began preparing the drink, first heating the water with magic, then pouring it into mugs over spoonfuls of raka.

They ate. They waited. The sun climbed higher and they had to retreat into the tent to escape its heat. Inside, it was stifling as well as hot, but at least their skin did not burn.

Some time after the sun had passed its zenith, the tribesman elder who had spoken for the group the previous night stepped into the tent.

“When we speak as one voice we are nameless,” he said. “But I now speak as one. I am Yem.” One bony hand touched his chest briefly, then his expression became serious. “We talked until the sun came back, then we decided. We put our decisions to the test of sleep and a second talking. They remained the same. We will give our answers to one only.” He turned to Dannyl. “Ambassador Magician Dannyl.”

Dannyl looked at Achati, who shrugged. I suppose he can’t be surprised by that. The Duna hardly have reason to trust him. But then, they don’t have reason to trust me, either. Tayend had opened his mouth as if to protest, but said nothing. Yem’s gaze shifted to him.

“Do you have questions as well?”

Tayend shook his head. “No. I’m just curious to hear the answers.”

“It will be Ambassador Magician Dannyl’s choice if you may hear them,” Yem said. He looked at Dannyl expectantly.

Dannyl grabbed his notebook and stood up. “I am honoured that you have chosen me to hear them from you and your people.”

Yem smiled, then beckoned and stepped out of the tent. Glancing back once, Dannyl saw that Achati was smiling his encouragement, and Tayend already looked bored. He turned away and followed Yem through the tents.

“We have found a Keeper of the Lore willing to speak to you,” Yem told him. “Do you swear not to seek her name or tell others of her?”

“I swear I will not seek or reveal her identity,” Dannyl replied.

They rounded yet another tent and suddenly were striding out into the grey desert. Ahead, Dannyl could see that a shelter had been erected out of poles with a large sheet of cloth stretched over them and tied at the corners to stakes in the ground. The soil beneath his feet was hard and dusty. Is it technically a desert, if there isn’t any sand? Dannyl wondered.

The sun beat down mercilessly. Dannyl felt sweat break out on his forehead and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Yem chuckled. “It is hot.”

“Yes,” Dannyl agreed. “And yet it is winter.”

The old man pointed to the west. “Long way that way the volcanoes are covered in snow. It is high and cold.”

“I wish I could see that.”

Yem’s shoulders rose. “If the volcanoes wake, the snow melts. Then we have floods. Very dangerous. Not as dangerous as the floods of molten rock.” He glanced at Dannyl. “We call the floods ‘volcano tears’ and the red rivers are ‘volcano blood’.”

“And the ash?”

“Volcano sneezes.”

Dannyl smiled in amusement. “Sneezes?”

Yem laughed – a quick bark that reminded Dannyl of Unh. “No. I lie. We have many names for ash. There are many kinds of ash. Hot ash and cold ash. New ash and old ash. Ash that falls dry and ash that falls wet. Ash that fills the sky. We have a Duna name for each kind. More than fifty winters ago one of the volcanoes exploded, and the sky was full of ash for many months.”

“That must have been the eruption that caused the long winters in Kyralia.”

“Its reach was that great?” Yem nodded to himself. “It is a powerful volcano.”

Dannyl did not answer, for they had reached the shelter. He sighed with relief as he stepped into its shadow. The same old men that he’d spoken to the previous night sat in a ring on a blanket, but there were two male additions and one old female. Yem indicated that Dannyl should sit in a gap between two of the men. He himself moved around the circle to fill a gap on the opposite side.

Yem looked around at each of the men, then turned to the woman.

“Speak, Keeper. Give Ambassador Magician Dannyl your answers.”

The woman had been staring at Dannyl, her gaze keen and assessing. Though her expression was unreadable, there was something anxious and disapproving in her demeanour.

“You wish to know what stones can do?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“They do whatever a magician can do,” she told him. “They turn magic into heat. They can be like a dam or shield. They make light. They can hold something still.” Her eyes focused on a distant point, and her voice took on the tone of a teacher reciting a familiar lesson. “Two kinds of stone may be made. One can be taught a task, but the magic must come from the holder. One can be taught a task, and holds magic for the task. Both can be made to use once, or many times, but the store must be filled again when it is emptied.” She blinked and looked at him. “Do you understand?”

“I think so,” he replied. “So if a stone can hold a store of magic, is it a storestone?”

Her chin rose. “Not such a stone as you spoke of last night. A careful stone-maker makes a stone hold only enough. Most stones hold only so much, then they break. So to stop the breaking, they are made to hold only enough.” She cupped her hands together. “The stone you spoke of had no stop to it.” She threw her arms wide, fingers splayed. “Stones that don’t break are rare. We do not know how to tell if they won’t. And even if they don’t, they are still dangerous. The more magic inside, the more dangerous – like if a magician takes and holds too much power it is dangerous. Easy to lose control.”

Dannyl straightened in surprise and interest. “Are you saying that a black magician – a magician who knows higher magic – can take so much power that his control over it starts to slip?”

She paused, obviously taking time to translate the less familiar words he’d used, then nodded.

“Long, long ago many peoples lived where the Duna and Sachakans are. They had cities in the mountains where the stones were made, and were always at war with each other. Whoever had the most stones was strongest. One queen lost her stone caves and sought to be a stone herself. She took more and more magic from her people. But she lost control of that power and burned, and that was when the first volcano was born. It turned her people the colour of ash.” She pinched the skin of her arm between finger and thumb and smiled. “Storestones are like magicians. Better to keep a little power, then use, then restock.”

I wonder how much power it takes for a black magician to lose control, Dannyl thought. Clearly more than what Sonea and Akkarin took to defend Imardin. Hmm, I had better let Sonea know about this. We don’t want Imardin turning into a volcano.

“Do not fear,” the woman said, mistaking his worried look. “Nobody makes storestones any more. They stopped trying because it was too dangerous, and then they forgot how to.”

He nodded. “That is good to know.” Then something occurred to him and he frowned. “If a stone can be taught anything a magician can do, can it be taught black magic – what Sachakans call higher magic? Can a stone take magic from a person?”

She smiled. “It can and it can’t. A stone can be made to take magic, but it would not work unless the skin of the person touching it was cut or they were tricked or forced into swallowing it. It will only take as much magic as it is made to take, or it would break. It would have to be able to hold much magic to kill a magician.”

Dannyl shuddered at the thought of having a black-magic-wielding stone in his stomach, sucking out his life. But perhaps it wouldn’t be able to take enough power from him to kill him, and it would soon pass through his system. Still, it would weaken a person, and might do a lot of damage to their insides if it broke.

“What happens when a stone breaks?” he asked.

“It may break into many pieces,” she said, flaring the fingers of both hands. “Or it may crack. If magic is stored, it can go out in many ways. Maybe how the stone meant to send it, maybe unshaped, maybe shaped in another way.”

Dannyl nodded. So either you’d get a warm glow inside or be cut to ribbons and burned up. Nice. Seems to me that these stones could give us as many more ways to do harm as good.

“How much do the Traitors know of making stones?”

Her eyebrows lowered. “All that we know, and more. They once traded with us, but broke our trust by taking the secrets from us.”

He nodded in sympathy. So it was true. He considered what to ask next. He wanted to know how easy or time-consuming the stones were to make, but he figured that would be asking for too much detail. If the stones were difficult to make, that knowledge could be used against the Duna. No, if he was to ask any new questions, he ought to take the opportunity to seek information that might add to his book.

“How do the Duna believe the wasteland was created?”

“Only what you have told us,” she said, shrugging. “Before then we knew only that the Guild made it.”

What else could these people tell him about the history of magic? He’d like to know more about their own origins. Perhaps they could tell him about other ancient peoples who lived in the mountains. Perhaps those who once occupied the ruins of Armje in Elyne.

“I would like to know more about the people you spoke of, who lived in the mountains long ago.”

“What we know are only tales,” she warned him.

“Even so, they are all we have of those times, and tales that last as long as these are usually good ones.”

She smiled. “Very well.” She looked at Yem. “But there are many, many stories. Maybe I tell you another time.”

“After this meeting is done,” Yem agreed. He looked at Dannyl appraisingly. “There is more we wish to tell you,” he said. “Other things than answers to your questions.”

Dannyl looked around at the old men, all of whom were now watching him intently. “Yes?”

“You know that the Traitors stole our secrets. They have grown their knowledge more than we ever have. We are able to make stones that will block a magician from reading a mind. They have stones that can make that magician see thoughts he expects.”

Dannyl’s heart skipped. So that’s how their spies avoid discovery and keep their home hidden! Then a cold sensation flowed over him. If Achati heard this … He would tell his king and then perhaps other Ashaki. All would search their slaves for stones and remove them. They’d kill thousands of slaves – after reading their minds. The Traitor stronghold would be found and destroyed – and Lorkin with it.

Which meant he could not tell Achati. Even if Lorkin was safe, Dannyl could not be responsible for the deaths of so many people. A decision that important is not mine to make, anyway. He felt a guilty wave of relief. It is one for the Guild, and they would most likely defer to the wishes of the Kyralian king, if not all the rulers of the Allied Lands.

If the tribesmen and woman had noticed Dannyl’s surprise and shock, they did not comment on it.

“A half moon cycle ago the Traitors came to our stone caves and broke all the stones,” Yem continued. Dannyl looked up and met the old man’s eyes as he realised what this must mean for the Duna. “We fear they are planning to make war. Maybe to invade Duna. Maybe to fight the Ashaki.”

“Why would they break your stones if they want to start a civil war with the Ashaki?”

“To be sure no magic stones can be used against them.”

“If they invaded Duna the Ashaki would do something about it.”

Yem nodded. “A fight with Duna is a fight with the Ashaki, whether we wish it so or not.”

Dannyl considered the news. Surely the Traitors won’t bother invading Duna before attacking the Ashaki. But perhaps there was a strategic reason for doing so. He’d have to think about that. The Duna people’s motives were clear, however.

“Did you tell me about the mind-read-blocking stones so that I’d warn the Sachakan king?” he asked.

“No,” Yem said firmly. “We seek friendship with Kyralia and the Allied Lands.”

Dannyl looked around the circle in surprise. All stared back at him expectantly.

Yem nodded. “We have long debated this. The Ashaki have learned that invading Duna is costly. The Traitors do not know this. But the Ashaki are more cruel than the Traitors. We know who we prefer as neighbours, but they do not want us.” He smiled grimly. “If Kyralia and Elyne agree, maybe we can help each other.”

Dannyl stared at the old man, who returned his gaze steadily. He thought about all that was being offered and predicted. An alliance. With a people who have stone-making knowledge. He smiled.

“I would be honoured to negotiate such an alliance,” he said. “And it would give me great pleasure if I could forge such a friendship between our peoples.”

The old man’s answering smile was wide and toothy.

And as they began discussing how the two peoples might help each other, Dannyl found that a journey that had been purely for research purposes was suddenly about everything his role as Ambassador entailed.

None of the magicians in the Administrator’s office made a sound when Lilia stopped talking. She looked around quickly. Some of them were staring at her, others looked distant and thoughtful. All were frowning.

Now that she had finished explaining everything that had happened since she had first spoken to Lorandra at the Lookout, she felt utterly drained. Her weariness wasn’t from magical exhaustion, since her powers had mostly recovered from the fight with Naki. It wasn’t physical either, since she had used Healing to combat tiredness from lack of sleep. She felt worn out from all the hope, fear, hurt, guilt, anger, relief and gratitude that had gripped her over the last day.

Her mood now was something between resignation and acceptance. She wasn’t sure whether she simply didn’t care what the Guild did to punish her for escaping from the Lookout and becoming a rogue, or whether she couldn’t bring herself to consider it. She was tired of the secrets, and glad to be rid of them.

Though it occurred to her she could try to hide the fact she’d been able to break the mind block, she suspected Sonea had arrived early enough to see her fighting Naki. What that meant for her future, she couldn’t guess. They could lock her and Naki up, but it wouldn’t be easy to keep them there.

Her mind kept returning to Naki’s betrayal.

“I taught myself before we even met.”

Why had Naki befriended her? Were the rumours about her liking for other women even true, or were her kisses part of the deception? Why did she encourage – perhaps even trick – Lilia into learning black magic? Or had she killed her own father by accident and arranged for Lilia to take the blame?

That didn’t make sense. For a start, Lord Leiden had been alive when Lilia had last seen him, and she’d been with Naki every moment subsequently until after their attempt to learn black magic.

Then she must have planned to kill him and blame me.

Surely Naki must have known that if Lilia didn’t have memor ies of killing Lord Leiden, then there could be no proof she was guilty. Perhaps she hoped that the other evidence – blood on Lilia’s hands – might be enough to convict her.

And how did the blood get onto my hands in the first place?

“How can there be so many differences between Lilia’s story and what Black Magician Sonea read in Naki’s mind after Lord Leiden’s death?” Lady Vinara asked, voicing what had bothered Lilia all along.

“I can see only three possibilities, and none are likely,” Administrator Osen replied. “Either Black Magician Sonea’s mind-reading failed, or Naki is able to confound a mind-read, or Lilia is able to.”

“Then I suggest that both young women’s minds are read by Black Magician Kallen,” High Lord Balkan said.

Osen looked around the room. All of the magicians nodded, including Sonea. Lilia suppressed a sigh and braced herself for another mind searching through her own again.

Whatever it takes, she thought. I’ll accept whatever punishment I deserve so long as I’m not blamed for anything I haven’t done. That was all she wanted, now that she was no longer in love with Naki. I thought I was only telling myself I wasn’t, but I think it’s true. It’s hard to love someone who’s tried to kill you. Love isn’t as unconditional as the songmakers say it is.

“Have Naki brought here,” Osen ordered, looking at the magicians closest to the door. He nodded to Kallen. “You have permission to read Lilia’s mind.”

Black Magician Kallen moved from the wall he was standing against and stepped around the chairs to where Lilia stood, in front of Osen’s desk. He gave her a thoughtful look, then reached out and set his palms on the sides of her head. She closed her eyes.

This time the experience was subtly different to the last. His searching was slower, though that might have been because he was being more careful, knowing that Sonea’s mind-read had not picked up Naki’s guilt. Kallen looked at all of her memories, but she sensed nothing from him and he did not once speak to her. The only indication of a reaction was the way he skimmed past her early feelings for Naki rather quickly, once he encountered them.

She only knew it was over when she felt the pressure of his hands cease. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Kallen. He was staring down at her, frowning.

“I see nothing that she hadn’t told us,” he said. “No deceit. Everything she has said, she believes to be true.”

Kallen stepped aside. She saw that the Higher Magicians had turned to look toward the back of the room, and as she spotted what they were looking at, her heart wrenched. At the same time, she felt strangely panicky, and the disturbingly vivid memory of the sensation of a cold blade against her throat came into her mind.

“Bring her forward,” Osen said.

Naki’s face was pale and sullen. As she was pushed firmly into place by one of the two magicians who had been standing either side of her, she scowled. Her gaze flickered to Lilia. It became mocking and her lips curled into a sneer, but guilt didn’t rise in response. She’s not beautiful any more, Lilia realised. Something has changed her. Something has changed in her. Shocked and sickened, she moved away as far as she could without escaping the ring of magicians.

Kallen took hold of Naki’s head and stared at her for some time. All watched and waited silently. Naki’s eyes remained open, gazing somewhere beyond Kallen’s chest. Her expression remained mostly blank as he began the mind-read, though there was a little crease of concentration between her brows.

After an unbearably long time, Kallen finally released her. He took a step back and frowned down at Naki, clearly not happy, before turning away.

“She learned black magic before Lord Leiden’s death, by experimenting, but she didn’t realise she had succeeded. Otherwise she would not have encouraged Lilia to try it. A Thief heard about her and blackmailed her into working for him. He also ordered her to kill Lilia.”

“How did she remove the block on her magic?” Sonea asked.

“She thinks,” Kallen turned to regard her, “that it was never properly done in the first place.”

Sonea’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing to that.

“I think these two young women had best be returned to their temporary cells,” Osen said. “Then we will discuss this in depth.”

Naki was escorted out first, and Lilia was relieved when she had gone. Other magicians were summoned to take Lilia away, so that Sonea, who had brought her to the meeting, could remain.

Before long, Lilia was walking down the University corridor, barely noticing the two magician guards as she puzzled over the fact that neither Sonea nor Kallen had been able to see into Naki’s mind.

And if they can’t do so using black magic, should I really feel so bad that I couldn’t either?

CHAPTER 26 RINGS AND STONES

Lorkin woke with a jolt, to find his leg had slipped between the two sleeping mats and had come into contact with the icy stone below them. He rolled back onto the bedding and found himself staring up at the cave’s roof. Light was filtering through the wall of ice, casting a cool, blue light over everything. Looking closely, he could see where the warmth of Tyvara’s shield set the chilly external air steaming.

Tyvara …

He turned to look at her, half covered by the blanket. The covering wasn’t necessary since the air within the shield was warmed with magic, but he had to agree that it gave an impression of protection that he’d appreciated as the storm winds whistled and wailed outside. His mind couldn’t shake the conviction that it was cold, and that it wasn’t sensible to leave his skin exposed.

His body, however, approved of Tyvara’s lack of clothing. He longed to reach out and touch her, but resisted. The sooner she woke, the sooner they would have to part. So he lay there and gazed at her, hoping the image would remain clear in his memory forever.

I will come back, he told himself. If Father had had such a reason as this, I’m sure he would have returned, too.

Since his conversation with the Traitor queen, he’d wondered if there had been anything between her and his father, but he’d decided it was unlikely. They had met so briefly and there must have been quite a difference in age between them. Perhaps there had been some kind of bond formed through the blood ring, but, if there had been, it sounded as though the death of the queen’s daughter had ended it.

He considered the blood ring. It was useless now that the maker was dead. Yet the queen hadn’t thrown it away. Perhaps it had symbolised the agreement she’d made with Akkarin. What had been her side of that agreement? What had she failed to do, but now hoped to achieve by sending Lorkin home?

Perhaps an alliance between our lands. That would have required her to convince her people that it was a good idea. Not an easy task to take on, but she was younger then and maybe she hadn’t realised how hard it would be.

Tyvara’s eyes fluttered open, and he felt his heart sink, but as she turned and smiled at him it lifted again. She rolled over and they kissed for a while. When he hoped this might lead to more, she pulled away and stood up, the blanket falling away. She turned to regard the wall of ice and sighed.

“We slept longer than we should have,” she said, starting to get dressed. “I ought to have headed home as soon as the storm passed. You never know how long it’ll be to the next one, this time of year.”

Lorkin felt a pang of worry for her, not quite eased by reminding himself that she was a powerful magician, and well capable of surviving storms. He got up and began pulling on his clothes. “Do you often travel at this time?”

She shook her head. “No, not if I can avoid it.”

He looked at her sternly. “Well, I’m glad to have a little longer with you, but if it means you might not get home safely then I’m afraid I have to insist you leave right now.”

She laughed, then her smile faded rapidly. Moving close, she kissed him firmly. “You take care as well. You’re not quite out of the mountains yet.”

“I will,” he told her. “Kyralia has snow and hilly parts too, you know.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Which you’ve never been to, except on the way to Sachaka, at a time of year when there was no snow.”

“Darn. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

She shook her head and pulled away, moving to the sledges. “Do you need me to run through the directions on how to get back to Arvice?” she asked, packing away the sleeping mats and utensils from the previous night’s meal.

“Take the sledge down the valley to the hunter’s shack. Leave it there and walk to the road. Slaves will be waiting to take me to the local estate and arrange transport from there.”

“That’s right. If you don’t encounter them for some reason, it’s the estate with four big trees either side of the entrance road. You shouldn’t encounter any Ashaki. They don’t tend to travel at this time of year. If you do, tell them who you are and request to be taken back to the Guild House. They’ll be politically obliged to help you.”

While she sounded confident, there was a worried look in her eyes. What’s the worst that could happen? he asked himself. The Ashaki might toss political obligation aside, reason that I’m a Traitor now and not protected by any diplomatic rules, and try to kill me. But they probably wouldn’t without first trying to read my mind. He rubbed the base of his thumb, where the mind-read-blocking stone lay beneath the muscle. It still itched a little, though he’d healed the cut. Tyvara had recommended the pos ition for it, since a newly inserted stone did tend to itch, and a slave rubbing at sore hands wasn’t unusual.

He’d not had much time to learn how to feed fake thoughts to a mind-reader. Even with Tyvara’s magic, I doubt I could fend off an Ashaki attack for long. If the Ashaki then senses that his mind-reading is failing, he might try to torture information out of me. I don’t know if I could withstand that at all, or for long. Better to get to the Guild House and into Ambassador Dannyl’s protection unseen.

“I’ll do what I can to stay out of sight,” he assured her. “And this time I won’t have half the Traitor spies trying to find us and turn us over.”

She nodded. “Be careful who you trust, even so. Kalia’s faction may be weakened, but there are still Traitors who hate you for what your father did. They won’t do anything to endanger Sanctuary, but they may make your life uncomfortable.”

He shrugged. “I’ve slept in a hole in the ground. I can cope with a little discomfort.” Then he frowned. “I’ve been thinking … is it wise that Kalia is the only one who knows how to Heal with magic?”

Tyvara’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sure the queen would rather Kalia wasn’t the only one, but we don’t have any choice about that.”

“Well … you could have another choice … if I teach you Healing before you go.”

Her eyes widened a little, then she smiled and shook her head. “No, Lorkin. We don’t have time for that.”

“We could stay another night.”

Her smile widened. “As much as that appeals, I still must go now. There are other reasons I need to get back quickly. The fact that Kalia has that one little advantage over us is the only thing keeping her faction happy.”

“Nobody has to know.”

She chuckled. “Zarala said you might offer this.”

“Really?” He felt strangely affronted. Was he that predictable?

“Yes. She told me to refuse.” Picking up the tow ropes of the sledges, Tyvara handed one to him. “Let’s go.”

They moved to the entrance of the cave and stepped out into a landscape coated with fresh, undisturbed snow. Bright morning light made everything dazzlingly white. The walls of the valley were steep and close, but widened as they reached eastwards. He could make out the line of the path they’d taken to descend into the valley, and another narrow one continuing down to the valley floor and a frozen river.

They turned to each other. They stared at each other. Neither spoke.

Then a distant rumble drew both to look at the sky. They were too deep in the valley to see the coming weather. Tyvara cursed under her breath.

“I’ll go first, so that I don’t toss snow down onto you,” she said. “Try to get to the hunter’s shack before the next storm.”

He nodded. She strode away, pushing snow off the path with magic. He watched her go, feeling that every step she took stretched some invisible bond between them. She did not look back, and he could not decide if he was disappointed or relieved.

When she finally reached the top of the wall, she did stop. Looking down, she lifted an arm and waved. It was less a gesture of farewell as one of impatience. His imagination conjured her voice and expression. “What are you waiting for? Get going!” He chuckled and set off into the valley, like her shoving snow off the path with magic as he went. When he reached the bottom he looked up.

She was gone. He felt strangely empty.

Then his eyes were drawn to the wall of ice that had covered one side of the cave they’d spent the last day and night in, and he gasped. It was a curtain of water, frozen in place.

A waterfall, he thought. It’s beautiful.

He wished Tyvara had been with him to see it. But then, she had probably travelled this path before, and seen it already. Still, it would have been nice to share such a sight with her.

He sighed. There was no point wishing things were otherwise, and he must put all romantic notions aside and concentrate on getting back to Kyralia. There would be rough and dangerous times ahead, and important meetings and negotiations to arrange if all went well.

He turned away and hauled his sledge toward home.

The journey down the path into the canyon seemed far more precarious than the journey up. It was much harder to ignore the dizzying drop to one side, and instead of facing into the wall when making one of the sharp turns, travellers were forced to face outward over the valley.

Achati was even more silent and tight-lipped than before. Tayend was uncharacteristically quiet. Nobody wanted to turn in their saddle to look at others in case the movement unbalanced the horses and they swayed closer to the edge.

This left Dannyl with many hours to think about what he had learned from the Duna.

It had been late when he’d rejoined Achati and Tayend the previous night, having spent many hours listening to and writing down the Keeper’s legends and stories. He’d told them what he’d learned of storestones, and shared his relief that they were so difficult and dangerous to make and that stones capable of holding so much power were very rare.

He hadn’t mentioned that the Traitors had stones that could block a mind-read and present a mind-reader with the thoughts he might expect. Concealing such information from Achati gave him twinges of guilt, but he knew he’d feel much worse if he passed it on and brought about the slaughter of thousands of slaves and rebels. Though Dannyl resented the Traitors for taking Lorkin away, they hadn’t killed the young man and certainly didn’t deserve to be hunted down and murdered for it.

There were plenty of strategic reasons for protecting the knowledge of how to make magical stones, too. If the Ashaki took such secrets from the Traitors, Kyralia’s former enemy would be even stronger, and less inclined to change its ways in order to join the Allied Lands. The Duna had trusted him with the information in the hope that they could form friendly links with the latter. Perhaps they would exchange stone-making knowledge in return for something.

What could we offer in return? he wondered. Protection? With the Ashaki between Duna and Kyralia, and most Guild magicians not using black magic, how could the Allied Lands ever help the Duna?

They couldn’t. Kyralia didn’t have any caves full of stones, as far as he knew, so stone-making knowledge would be equally useless to the Guild. There might be caves in Elyne, or other Allied lands, though. The Cavern of Ultimate Punishment might be such a cave. But he had his doubts about that. It had looked too symmetrical to be natural. He suspected it had been built, or carved out of the rock, and the crystals attached to the walls later.

The Duna knew that they could not gain effective protection from the Allied Lands. They wanted trade. They would supply the Guild with magical stones – once their own caves recovered from the Traitors’ attack. It was up to the Guild to find something the Duna might want in exchange.

The Keeper had told him how the Traitors had always worked to destroy or steal any magical stones the Ashaki had taken from the tribes, and warned him that the Traitors would try to stop any trade with Kyralia. The Duna did not normally allow their own people to take magical stones out of their secret hiding places. A way would have to be found to transport them without raising Traitor or Sachakan suspicions.

Such precautions taken by both Duna and Traitors explained why the Ashaki had all but forgotten that such things existed. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few have a secret stash hidden away in their estates. Maybe they pass down the knowledge of how to use them to their heirs, maybe they’ve forgotten that they own anything more than pretty jewellery.

After all, if the Guild could forget that it had ever used black magic, it was possible the Ashaki had forgotten they had ever stolen magical gemstones from the Duna.

Dannyl hoped they had, otherwise getting the stones from Duna to Kyralia without the Ashaki finding out could be even more difficult. All it would take was one shipment to be discovered to put him in a diplomatically awkward and dangerous position. Achati’s anger would be the least of Dannyl’s worries.

He hadn’t had a chance to contact Administrator Osen yet. He’d been tempted to try back at the tent, but had been worried that Achati would think he was in a greater hurry to report to his superiors than he ought to be, when he’d essentially learned that storestones weren’t a threat and the rest of the information related only to his research.

What about now? he asked himself. He had to admit, he did not like the thought of transferring his attention elsewhere when a deadly precipice was a mere few steps away. The guide had assured them that the horses did not need directing. They knew the path and were as keen to avoid falling off it as their riders were. I’ll just have to trust mine won’t sense my mind is elsewhere and pitch me off for the fun of it. While the horses had so far only displayed a sturdy, placid temperament, he’d encountered enough contrary animals in his life to suspect that the species, as a whole, had a mischievous sense of humour and was inclined to play tricks the moment a rider’s attention strayed.

Pushing aside reluctance, he reached into his robes for Osen’s ring, slipped it on a finger and closed his eyes.

—Osen?

—Dannyl!

—Are you free to talk? I have some information to pass on.

—We are waiting for a Hearing to begin, but I have a little time to fill. I may have to end the conversation abruptly, however.

—I will be as concise as I can. Dannyl described his meeting with the tribesmen and the Keeper, and their proposal.

—How interesting. Osen’s excitement was faintly perceptible, like the sound of a distant vibration. A stone that blocks a mind-read and projects false thoughts.

Dannyl felt amusement and a little frustration. He’d expected Osen to be more interested in the proposed trade with Duna.

—As I said, if the Ashaki and Sachakan king find out about this, they’ll—

—The Hearing is beginning. Sorry, Dannyl. I have to go. Please take off the ring.

Opening his eyes, Dannyl slipped the ring off again and pocketed it. He felt a nagging doubt. Had Osen understood the significance of what Dannyl had told him? Had he seen the potential in trading with the Duna? More importantly, did he grasp the dangers in it, and in the Ashaki finding out about the mind-read-blocking stones?

I’ll have to trust that he does – or will when he gets the chance to think about it. Dannyl pushed the doubt aside. I do wish I could discuss this with someone, but I can’t even confide in Tayend. Not now that he’s an Elyne Ambassador.

The only person in Sachaka with whom he could have discussed the stones was Lorkin, and he was far away in the mountains, a willing prisoner of the Traitors.

The Guildhall echoed with voices as its occupants waited for the Hearing to begin. Standing to one side of the Front, Sonea looked up at the Higher Magicians and noted the same mix of worry and impatience on their faces that was growing inside her.

Where is Osen? Why haven’t Kallen and Naki arrived yet?

Beside her, Lilia seemed oblivious to the rising tension. The young woman’s gaze was fixed elsewhere. Her expression was sad and resigned.

She’s grown up a lot these last few months, Sonea mused. The confused, dazed young woman whose mind Sonea had read after Lord Leiden’s murder had been naïve and short-sighted – as surely anybody would have to be to experiment with black magic without considering the consequences.

To be fair, she was addled with roet and completely besotted. Just one of those could lure most novices into doing things they’d regret later.

Lilia had matured, however. She had learned to stop and try to anticipate the effects of her actions. She was also less trusting. When she’d agreed to escape with Lorandra, she’d made a choice, aware that the woman might not be trustworthy. Though it was a bad choice, it had been, in her mind, the best chance to save her friend.

It’s the fact that she was willing to sacrifice her own future – and perhaps her own life – to find Naki that impresses me. I only wish she’d trusted me over Lorandra. But then, maybe it’s my fault for not convincing her that I was doing all I could to find Naki.

Which hadn’t been much, Sonea admitted. She had left it to Kallen. She would not make that mistake again.

Even Cery didn’t trust me to know that he had Lilia. Perhaps he was protecting us both. What I didn’t know about, I didn’t feel obliged to deal with. It does worry me that he sent Lilia to rescue Naki. Did he not consider that Naki might not want to be rescued? If I hadn’t been there, Naki would have killed her.

She couldn’t help wondering if Cery had hoped to keep Lilia for himself. Would Lilia have agreed to that?

As for Naki, the only crime she had admitted to was learning and using black magic. She had done that out of the same foolish urge that had led Lilia to learn it. Her story of blackmail and working for a Thief was a little shaky. Sonea, Dorrien and Nikea had heard her tell Lilia that she was “learning the ropes”. Perhaps Naki had given up escaping the underworld and figured that her only future was in it – even to the point where she would obey an order to kill Lilia.

Clearly, whatever the Thief threatened her with if she didn’t work for him, it wasn’t to kill Lilia. What was the threat, then? Kallen never mentioned it.

After Naki and Lilia had left the meeting of Higher Magicians in Osen’s office, Kallen had told them that Naki blamed the Guild for the situation she had been in, their forcing her to live outside the Guild leaving her vulnerable to blackmail and too easily accessible to criminals.

Sonea suspected that many would sympathise with that view. Though, like Lilia, Naki had learned black magic through foolish experimentation, she had been forced to work for a Thief. Lilia’s position was a little more pre carious. She had deliberately run away – and released Lorandra in the process. She could have argued that Lorandra had persuaded her to go – it was partly true – but that would cancel out the positive aspect of her devotion to finding her friend. Still, the fact that Lilia’s only motive had been to find Naki, and that she was successful, would gain her considerable support.

Both young women knew black magic. If the Guild chose to punish them for that, the least they could expect was imprisonment. The trouble was, the block on their magic had failed. Sonea knew that some magicians were claiming she had done a bad job of it. They wish it was so, therefore they believe it was so, she thought. No doubt Kallen would do the deed next time. She did not think he would succeed.

What would happen when Kallen’s block failed? If it proved that a black magician’s powers could not be blocked, what would happen to the girls? They could still be imprisoned, but their guards would have to be magicians and …

The side door on the other side of the hall opened. A novice peered nervously around the hall, but as his gaze fell on Sonea he straightened. He pointed to her, then Lilia, then beckoned.

Her heart skipped. Has Kallen had some trouble with Naki?

Sonea looked at Lilia, who had obviously seen the novice and was looking worried.

“Come with me,” Sonea said.

The buzz of voices dropped as they walked across the hall. The novice was a tall, lanky young man, who bowed then bent forward to whisper in Sonea’s ear.

“The Administrator wants you to bring Lilia to his office, Black Magician Sonea.”

Sonea nodded. She moved to the door, Lilia following, and slipped out into the Great Hall.

The quiet of the hall was dramatic after the noisy Guildhall. Sonea gestured for Lilia to stay beside her, then strode toward the front of the University. As they reached the entry hall, she turned through the archway to the right and stopped at Osen’s door. It swung inward at her knock.

To her relief, Kallen and Naki stood there calmly. Kallen met her gaze, but he looked as curious and worried as she was. Naki looked bored.

“Black Magician Sonea,” Osen said. “I’ve just learned something very interesting, and it has raised a question I want answered before the Hearing begins.” He turned to Kallen. “Please remove Naki’s ring.”

At once Naki’s eyes went round. She drew her hands to her chest, one covering the other, and looked from Osen to Kallen and back again.

“No! It’s my father’s ring. The only memento I have of him.”

Osen’s eyebrows rose. “Other than an entire mansion and all his possessions – apart from a certain book containing instructions on black magic, that is.”

Kallen took hold of Naki’s arm. She resisted as he pulled the concealed hand away from the other. Something caught and refracted the light. Sonea heard Lilia draw in a sharp breath. She turned to the girl.

“What is it?”

“That’s the ring that was in the cabinet with the book.” She glanced at Sonea. “She said her grandmother owned it, and that it was magical.”

Kallen pulled the ring off Naki’s finger and handed it to Osen. The Administrator examined it closely. He slipped it on his own finger and a look of concentration crossed his face; then he shrugged and removed it.

“I cannot sense anything magical about it.”

“Of course not,” Naki said, giving him a forced smile. “She was a mad old woman who liked to spin tales for children.”

Osen looked at her, his gaze hard and assessing, and the smile slipped from her face. His gaze rose to meet Kallen’s.

“Read her mind.”

Both Kallen and Naki stilled. Kallen looked surprised; Naki slowly turned white. She recovered first.

“No,” she said angrily, tugging against the hand still holding her arm. “How many times do I have to have my head invaded?”

The two men exchanged looks. Osen’s expression hardened and he nodded to indicate that Kallen should continue. Kallen drew Naki closer.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, panic in her voice. “Isn’t it enough that I’ve been abducted by a Thief and forced to work for him? Isn’t it enough that … that my father was murdered.” She pointed at Lilia with her free hand. “By her. You should be looking into her mind again. You should …”

“If there’s nothing new to see in your mind, then let Kallen read it,” Osen told her.

“No!” Naki shouted. She cringed away from Kallen. “I’m grieving! I don’t want you to see that. Leave me alone!” She covered her face with her free hand and started sobbing.

Kallen frowned. To Sonea’s surprise, he looked up at her, his expression questioning. She met his eyes and saw the reluctance there. Turning to Osen, she was a little chilled to see no sign of sympathy. He reached out, grabbed Naki’s free hand and pulled it away from her face.

There were no tears. Naki stared at them each in turn, eyes wide with fear.

“Do it, Kallen,” Sonea said quietly.

Naki fought him with magic, but the struggle didn’t last long. As he took hold of her head Sonea looked at Lilia, concerned that the girl might be frightened, but Lilia watched with a calm intensity.

After a long silence, Kallen let Naki go, releasing her with a sound of disgust. He looked at Osen.

“You were right to suspect. The ring hides the wearer’s true thoughts and memories.”

Osen looked down at the ring, his mouth tightening in grim triumph. “What was she hiding?”

Kallen drew in a deep breath and let it out again. “She did learn black magic before she met Lilia – deliberately. She resented the constraints put on her by her father and the Guild, and wanted to be free to do whatever she wanted.” His face darkened. “She befriended Lilia and lured her into learning black magic so that she could kill Leiden and someone else would be suspected of it – drugging Lilia and wiping blood on her hands to make her look guilty.” He looked at Lilia sympathetically, then back at Osen. “She was inspired by Skellin, who she admired for avoiding capture for so long. The mind-block wasn’t something she’d planned for, but it was easy to get past – I suspect no ordinary block would have been effective on a black magician. Naki then found a Thief willing to teach her how to survive in the underworld in exchange for magical favours.” Kallen turned to regard Naki with contempt. “He brought her people that nobody would miss, so she could strengthen herself, and ensured the bodies were never found.”

Sonea stared at the girl, outrage at her callous manipulations and murder of her father turning into horror. How could she have done it? To kill people who meant her no harm … Naki was now standing with her back stiff and her arms crossed, her lip curled in sullen defiance. All so she could do as she pleased.

“Sonea,” Osen said.

She dragged her eyes away and looked at him. He held up the ring.

“I want you to attempt to read my mind.”

She blinked in surprise, then understood as he slipped the ring on again. Moving forward, she placed a hand on each side of his head and closed her eyes.

Sending her mind forth, she slipped past the defences around his and sought his thoughts. She detected a strong sense of his personality, but the few thoughts she picked up were vague and fragmentary. Drawing her consciousness back, she opened her eyes.

“That’s … odd. Your thoughts were disjointed, as if you were having trouble focusing them.”

He smiled thinly. “I was thinking about Lorlen.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. Osen had admired and worked with the former Administrator for years, and grieved over his death deeply. There was no chance she would have missed those thoughts and the accompanying emotions, without some kind of magical interference.

“I didn’t sense this disjointedness when I read Naki’s mind the first time,” Kallen pointed out.

“Nor did I,” Sonea said, turning to face him. “Perhaps there is some knack or skill to using the ring.”

“From what I’ve learned, that is exactly the case,” Osen told them. He smiled as they both looked at him. “Ambassador Dannyl reported to me as I was readying to go to the Hearing. He has discovered the existence of mind-read-blocking stones, among other things. Since there were so many inconsistencies between what Sonea and Kallen read in Naki and Lilia’s minds, I decided to check whether either girl was wearing a gemstone before we proceeded.”

“What will we do now?” Kallen asked.

“Proceed with the Hearing,” Osen answered, looking at Naki. She glowered back at him. He turned to Sonea. “You and Lilia return first. I will come afterwards with Kallen.”

She nodded. He led the way to the door and, to her surprise, followed her and Lilia out, shutting the door behind him.

“Before you go,” he said, his voice low. His gaze moved from Sonea to Lilia and back, indicating he was speaking to them both. “Do not mention the ring to anybody for now.” He turned to Sonea. “Construct a barrier of silence and tell the Higher Magicians that Kallen has read Naki’s mind after a block was removed that prevented a mind-read. Tell them they will be given the details after the Hearing.”

She nodded, and as he gestured that they could go, hurried away with Lilia at her side.

“So,” Lilia said, as they entered the Great Hall. “If Naki is guilty of murder … of murder using black magic …”

Sonea felt a chill run down her spine. The punishment would be execution. She looked at Lilia and felt a wave of sympathy. She definitely chose the wrong girl to be infatuated with. Lilia had not just had her heart broken, but had found out that the object of her desire had murdered others, set her up, and then tried to kill her. Now it is likely her friend is going to be executed. I hope she is going to be all right. I should keep an eye on her …

The girl looked away.

“The king may grant her a pardon,” Sonea told her.

Lilia gave a short and bitter laugh. “That’s not going to happen.”

Sonea sighed. “No, it’s not likely.”

As they reached the door to the Guildhall, something else occurred to her that made her pause, her heart filling with sudden dread.

Then who will have to perform the execution?

CHAPTER 27 UNPLANNED ASSISTANCE

Standing outside the hunter’s shack, Lorkin looked around and wondered what time it was. All he was sure of was that the sun was up, because the fog around him was too light for it to have been illuminated merely by moonlight.

Should I stay here until it lifts?

Because of the storm that had delayed him and Tyvara, he was running low on food. While he was willing to go hungry for a day, he knew that, down at the end of the valley, Traitors disguised as slaves were waiting to meet him. The longer he took to arrive, the more likely they’d be missed at the estate they belonged to.

So long as I always go downhill, I shouldn’t get lost. Tyvara said I wouldn’t go astray if I travelled at night, because the road crosses the mouth of the valley. She said to just walk until I find it, then turn left and follow where it leads.

Surely the same instructions would apply now.

He looked back at the hut, mostly hidden by the fog. He’d buried the sledge under the snow, as instructed. Someone would take it back to Sanctuary soon enough, he guessed. He’d also left his pack and changed into the sort of clothes that hunters usually wore in winter – roughly made trousers and a tunic covered by a hooded cape of hides stitched together. His boots were made of skins with the fur on the inside. There were simple gloves – mere pockets of hide – as well. Hunters were another group of Sachakans that didn’t quite fit into the simple division of slaves and Ashaki. They were free men, but they weren’t magicians. They lived on estates in exchange for the pelts, meat and other products they produced, but they weren’t considered slaves. Since they spent much of the year in remote places, it would be hard for a master to maintain control of them. They also had an understanding of sorts with the Traitors, who left them alone so long as they kept away from certain areas in the mountains. Some actively helped the Traitors by allowing use of their huts – though they may not have had much choice about that. If they wanted to be free to hunt in the mountains, they had to stay on the right side of the magicians that lived there.

A hunter’s outfit was the perfect disguise for Lorkin. If any Ashaki saw him, they’d ignore him, and it wasn’t too strange for a hunter to be out and alone. Not that anybody was going to see him today.

Turning his back on the mountains, he started walking. The fog was so thick he had to constantly watch the ground for obstacles. After stumbling into depressions and the edge of the river, hidden under the snow, he broke a branch off one of the scraggly trees and used it to probe the drifts in front of him as he walked. It slowed his progress, so he was not expecting to find the road for some time. After the relief of a flat stretch of ground was followed by a sudden drop, however, he stopped and looked around. Exploring left and right, he discovered that the flat area continued in both directions, and was of a consistent width. It had to be the road.

Tyvara said to turn left. If I’m wrong and this isn’t the road, the flat area will soon end, or I’ll encounter the side of the valley.

So he started along the direction she’d said. After several hundred paces he relaxed a little. The surface continued straight and, aside from the occasional rut or puddle, remained level. With no obstructions to beware of, he was able to look around and search the fog for some sign of the Traitors waiting to meet him.

After a while he began to worry that he would pass them, unnoticed. Though the fog had a deadening effect on sound, his footsteps crunching through the snow and finding the occasional puddle seemed loud to him, and he had to resist trying to be quieter.

At least I should hear a carriage coming soon enough to get off the road and hide. It won’t matter either if there’s nothing to hide behind. All I have to do is crouch down and stay still, and if anyone sees me they’ll probably think I am a rock.

A voice called out behind him, and Lorkin froze. He could not make out what it had said, but it had definitely been calling to someone.

To me?

He considered what Tyvara had said about the likeliness of encountering Ashaki. “You shouldn’t encounter any Ashaki. They don’t tend to travel at this time of year.” He doubted anyone would willingly venture out in this fog, and he’d heard no sound of carriage wheels or hoof beats. The only people likely to be out in such weather were the people looking for him. The voice had come from behind him. Maybe they’d seen his tracks and realised he’d passed them.

The voice called out again, this time further away. He started forward. Within a few steps he saw something move. He made out a figure coming toward him. A man, walking confidently. Wearing trousers and a cropped jacket.

Ashaki.

He stopped, but it was too late. The man had seen him. Lorkin’s heart began to race. Should he throw himself to the ground and hope the man thought he was a slave? But a hunter wouldn’t do that.

“You’re not Chatiko,” the man said, stopping. He came closer, bending forward as he stared at Lorkin. “I know you. I’ve seen you before.” His eyes widened with realisation and surprise. “You’re that Kyralian magician! The one who went missing!”

There was no point pretending otherwise. Tyvara’s words rose in his memory.

“If you do, tell them who you are and request to be taken back to the Guild House. They’ll be politically obliged to help you.”

“I am Lord Lorkin of the Magicians’ Guild of Kyralia,” he said. “I formally request that you return me to the Guild House in Arvice.”

The man smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, it’s your lucky day. We’re heading that way ourselves. We were going to wait until the weather cleared, but Master Vokiro insisted we leave at first light. I am Master Akami.”

Lorkin searched for something to say. Two of them are Masters. They aren’t as highly ranked as Ashaki. That could be to my advantage. He managed a smile. “Thank you, Master Akami.”

The Sachakan gave Lorkin a familiar amused look at his Kyralian manners, then gestured back down the road. “The carriage is this way. Master Chatiko stopped to relieve himself.” Lorkin fell into step beside the man. “He was taking so long I went looking for him. See how lucky you are? We could have driven by and not seen you. Ah! He’s back.”

Another man stood by the carriage. As he saw Lorkin, his gaze moved from Lorkin’s head to his feet, an expression of puzzlement and distaste on his face.

“Look what I found,” Master Akami declared. “A lost Kyralian magician! And I bet he has some tales to tell. He’ll keep us entertained all the way back to the city!”

No sooner had the trunks been hauled onto the deck of the Inava than the anchor was pulled up and sails unfurled. Dannyl, Tayend and Achati were ushered to the one place on deck where they were out of the way of the captain and his slave crew.

Achati looked at Dannyl.

“So, are you content with what you learned here, Ambassador?”

Dannyl nodded. “Yes, though I would like to return and record more of these Duna legends. I asked to hear the ones about magic, but there would be plenty more that aren’t. I guess that’s a book for someone else to write.”

Achati nodded. “Perhaps your assistant might write such a book. She seems very interested in the tribes.”

Dannyl felt a small pang of guilt for leaving Merria behind. But someone had to remain at the Guild House. “Yes, she is.”

“And what about you, Ambassador Tayend?” Achati said, turning to the Elyne.

Tayend waved a hand in a vague gesture that might have meant many things. He looked a little pale, Dannyl noted.

“Have you taken the seasickness cure?” Achati asked.

“Not yet,” Tayend admitted. “I did not want to miss our last sight of …” He gulped and waved a hand at the valley. “I’ll take it once we leave the bay.”

Achati frowned with concern. “There will be some delay before it takes effect, and it won’t have a chance to if you can’t keep it down.”

“Ashaki Achati,” the captain called.

They all turned to see the man pointing out over the northern arm of the bay, his eyes bright and a grim smile on his face. Black clouds darkened the sky, and the horizon was invisible behind streaks of rain.

Achati chuckled. “A storm is coming.” He took a step toward the captain. “I will give you my assistance.”

The man’s eyebrows lowered. “You have experience?”

Achati grinned. “Plenty.”

The man nodded and smiled again. As Achati turned away, his eyes shone with excitement. Dannyl’s skin pricked.

“We’re not turning back?” Tayend asked, with an edge of panic to his voice.

“No,” Achati replied. “You’d best take that cure now.”

“You and the captain are pleased about this, aren’t you?” Dannyl asked as the Elyne hurried away.

Achati nodded. “We are. Storms are common at this time. We’ve been taking advantage of them for centuries. Any Ashaki who travels by ship – any who value their life, that is – learns how to ride them. With magic to hold the ship together and an experienced captain to steer it, you can sail from Duna to Arvice in a few days.”

As if to emphasise the point, a blast of wind battered the ship as it emerged from the protection of the bay. Dannyl and Achati caught hold of the rail to steady themselves.

“Can I offer any assistance?” Dannyl asked. He had to shout to be heard over the wind.

Achati’s laugh held a hint of both affection and scorn. “Don’t worry. The king will ensure that what magic I and the captain use will be replaced.”

In other words, only a higher magician has the strength for this.

It had never been so obvious to Dannyl that he was no black magician. Oddly, that made him reluctant to slink away to the protection of his cabin.

“I’ll stay and watch, then,” he said.

“Later,” Achati said, shaking his head. “Seasickness cures can only do so much. Tayend is going to need your help.”

Dannyl met the Sachakan’s eyes. He saw concern there. Sighing, Dannyl nodded in agreement and set off after the Elyne Ambassador.

As Sonea neared the end of the corridor, she saw, through the University entry hall, a carriage pull up. In the brief time the vehicle’s window was visible, she glimpsed a familiar face.

Dorrien.

She cursed under her breath. If she crossed the hall he would see her and want to talk. She was in no mood for such an encounter, rife with unspoken questions, guilt and desire. The dread that had settled on her during the Hearing had kept her on edge all day.

So she turned and moved back down the corridor again, slipping into the nearest empty classroom. The novices were long gone. The lines of tables and chairs brought back memories, both pleasant and unpleasant.

Or would it be more accurate to say tolerable and unpleasant? While I did enjoy learning magic, I didn’t have much fun doing it alongside my fellow novices, even when they weren’t making life difficult, snubbing me or, in Regin’s case, finding new and increasingly humiliating and painful ways to torment me.

After she had been accepted back into the Guild, completing her training had been difficult, the lessons having to be taught without any teacher communicating more complicated concepts mind to mind. She’d managed it, despite that. And the grief of Akkarin’s death. And being pregnant with Lorkin.

Regin has turned out all right, she found herself thinking. She smiled wryly. I never thought I’d think that. Or miss him.

Which she did, in a way. It had been better, during the initial search, having a helper who wasn’t besotted with her. Things had become much too complicated with Dorrien. She wished they could hurry up and find Skellin and Lorandra. Or that Dorrien’s daughter could join the Guild sooner, so that he and Alina could return to the country.

I guess this means I’m not in love with him, she realised. Perhaps I might have been, if there weren’t so many factors spoiling everything. Or maybe … maybe if it were love then those things wouldn’t be able to spoil it. People have affairs all the time, it seems. The idea of betraying a spouse or causing a scandal isn’t enough to deter them.

She sighed and moved to the classroom door. Dorrien should have passed through the hall by now. She paused as she heard voices and footsteps approaching, not wanting to be seen hiding.

“… this convinced you that you need to stop taking roet?” a woman’s voice asked.

The voice was familiar. Even as she realised it was Lady Vinara’s, she heard another voice reply and felt a shock of recognition.

“I am convinced, but this may not be the best time,” Black Magician Kallen replied as they passed the classroom. “I don’t need to be distracted by—”

“There is never a good time,” Vinara replied. “Do you think I don’t hear this every day from …?”

The Healer’s voice faded out of hearing. The pair were striding quickly toward the entry hall, on the way to Osen’s office. As Sonea had been.

She counted to fifty, then stepped out and continued on her way. Triumph and worry mingled as she considered what she had overheard. Triumph that she had been right: Kallen’s use of roet was a problem. Worry that she was right: Kallen’s use of roet was a problem. Which, because he was a black magician, made it her problem, too.

The door to Osen’s office was swinging shut as she arrived, so she pushed through into the room. Rothen was there already. She smiled at him as she passed. The Heads of Disciplines were in their usual trio of chairs. Kallen stood by the wall. The Administrator was seated. He met her eyes and they exchanged a nod, then she took her usual place, standing to one side of his desk.

The few missing Higher Magicians arrived soon after, and Osen began the meeting by explaining what had happened before the Hearing – Dannyl’s information, summoning Kallen, Naki, Sonea and Lilia, and what Kallen saw in Naki’s mind once her ring was removed.

“The king has not granted Naki a pardon,” Osen told them, when he was finished.

Silence followed that announcement. Sonea examined the faces of the magicians. Some were nodding and unsurprised. Others looked shocked. Rothen was watching her, his expression sympathetic and troubled. She felt her stomach sink and her mouth went dry.

What will I do if they ask me to perform the execution? She had already decided that she would not protest if they ordered it, but if they gave her the opportunity to avoid it, she would. There is no right decision in this case. Either I do it and have another death on my hands, or I refuse and force another to take on that burden.

The other would most likely be Kallen. He had never killed anyone before – certainly not with black magic, and if Naki was to die without her magic being loosed then her powers would need to be drained beforehand. Naki was no invader; she was a young woman and Kyralian. Despite Sonea’s dislike of Kallen, she would not wish the burden of such an execution on him.

If I do it, people will see me in a different way. Ruthless and cold. If I turn from that duty, they’ll see me as disloyal and cowardly. They’ll—

“I have discussed this with Black Magician Kallen and High Lord Balkan,” Osen said. “Kallen will remove Naki’s power, Balkan will apply the penalty.”

Sonea blinked in surprise even as she felt relief flood through her. Exhaled breaths combined to create a soft hiss in the room.

“The king has agreed that it should not be a public execution,” Osen continued. “Despite the deterrent effect one might have.” There were nods of agreement all around. “It will occur later tonight. The existence of these gemstones that block a mind-read must remain a secret,” Osen added firmly. “The knowledge of them must not extend beyond us here. The Sachakans are not aware of them and if they learn of this kind of magic the consequences could be disastrous.”

He took time to meet the eyes of every magician, until he’d had a nod or murmur of understanding from them all; then he relaxed and invited questions. Sonea did not hear what was asked, too caught up in her own relief.

She realised belatedly the sense behind Osen’s decision: Balkan, as High Lord, was the Guild’s leader and trained as a Warrior, so it was fitting he should enforce the law. She and Kallen had been accepted as black magicians only so that they could defend the Guild against invasion. Kallen’s removal of Naki’s power was a practical measure, little different to what he and Sonea did for dying magicians to ensure they passed away without their remaining magic causing any destruction.

A foolish anxiety slipped into Sonea’s mind. Did they think I couldn’t or wouldn’t do it? Did they think I couldn’t be trusted?

Oh, be quiet, she told herself.

The meeting finished soon after. Rothen joined Sonea as she left the office.

“Going to the hospice tonight?” he asked.

They walked into the entrance hall and stopped at the open doors of the University. They both gazed out at the forest, which was dusted in snow.

“I don’t know,” Sonea replied. “I didn’t sleep today. I could go back to my rooms, but that won’t achieve anything. I could go to the hospice, but I suspect I’ll be … a bit too distracted.”

He hummed. “I think we’ll all be, until the deed is done.”

“And for some time after. How long has it been since the Guild had to execute a member – or former one?”

He shrugged. “A long time. Long enough I’d have to look it up in a history book.”

Sonea glanced behind them. The entry hall was empty, the Higher Magicians having all left now.

“I admit that I’m relieved at their choice of executioners,” she murmured. “Though it will still be hard on Kallen to be there and take part. He’s never … he’s inexperienced.”

“Many feel they have asked a lot of you already,” Rothen replied quietly. “They feel guilty about Lorkin.”

She turned to meet his gaze. They should feel guilty about sending Lorkin off to Sachaka, she thought triumphantly, but not without bitterness. Rothen’s eyes were steady and hinted at more. She wondered how often the Higher Magicians discussed her.

“Is this why they haven’t expelled Lorkin from the Guild officially yet?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Or is it they’re afraid of what I’d say and do if they did?”

Rothen chuckled. “That, too.” His expression became serious. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you some sad news – about someone else, not Lorkin.”

“What is it?”

“Regin’s wife tried to kill herself.”

“Oh! That’s terrible.”

“Apparently she’s been attempting to for years. This is the first time it’s been, well, unavoidably public. There had been rumours, but …” Rothen grimaced. “I didn’t like to pay much attention to them.”

“Poor Regin,” she said.

“Yes. But … not for quite the reason you think, I suspect.”

“What do you mean?”

Rothen sighed. “According to rumours, each time she had attempted suicide she did so after he found out about and chased off one of her lovers.”

Sonea winced. “Oh.”

“From the reports I’ve heard, he’s on his way back to Imardin and has asked for rooms in the Guild. He has given his house in Elyne to one daughter, and his Imardin family home to the other.”

“That is one angry man.”

“Indeed.”

Sonea felt a small, somewhat inappropriate and slightly treacherous spark of hope. Also a man needing something to occupy himself – like a hunt for a rogue. She hooked her arm around Rothen’s and tugged him back toward the University corridor.

“Are there a lot of married people having troubles at the moment, or does it just appear that way to me?”

“Who else is having troubles in their marriage?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just … people. As for magicians moving back home, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Something that we should be able to achieve without causing offence if we work together.”

CHAPTER 28 A WELCOME RETURN

To Lilia’s relief, she was being held in a room within the University rather than the airless Dome. It gave her a small measure of hope that the Guild might be more forgiving of her more recent crimes, and that her intention to return to her prison after finding Naki had convinced them that she didn’t need to be given a harsher penalty.

What weakened that hope was the fact she had been told nothing since the Hearing. Servants had brought her food and tended to her needs, but would not speak even when Lilia questioned them. The magicians guarding her door told her to be quiet if she knocked to get their attention.

She had little choice but to think about what Naki had done. Though her heart still ached, it was for a person who hadn’t really existed.

How could she kill her own father? I suppose he wasn’t her real father. He was just the man who married her mother. She told me he didn’t believe her when she said her uncle would have abused her. Was that even true? Maybe it was. I don’t know if he deserved her hate. I guess I’ll never know.

The hurt at being set up and betrayed by Naki was countered by anger. She was tired of being manipulated by people. First Naki, then Lorandra. At least Cery and Anyi had been honest about what they wanted of her. As far as she knew.

I’m not going to be used and deceived by anyone again. People have to prove they are trustworthy before I’ll trust them. At least being locked away means I’ll encounter fewer people to worry about on that score.

Footsteps and voices outside the door drew her attention away from her thoughts. The door opened and Black Magician Sonea entered. Lilia felt her heart soar with hope, only to crash down again as she saw the woman’s expression. She rose and bowed hastily.

“Lilia,” Sonea said. “It seems I must apologise on behalf of the Guild for keeping you ignorant of the events of the last day. The trouble is, we haven’t yet decided what to do with you.”

Lilia looked away. It could not be a good sign if they were struggling to decide. As far as she could see, their choices were to execute or imprison her, and since her powers couldn’t be blocked, the latter would involve keeping two magicians occupied as guards. Permanently.

“I can assure you that nobody is suggesting you face the penalty of death,” Sonea said.

Relief spread through Lilia like the warmth of a heated room after a walk in the winter cold. A gasp escaped her, then she blushed at the unintended show of emotion.

“What we can’t agree on is what to do with you. Some want you back in the Lookout. Others want you back in the Guild.”

Surprised, Lilia looked up.

Sonea smiled wryly. “Under tight restrictions, of course.”

“Of course,” Lilia echoed.

“I am of the latter opinion. Which is why I have arranged for you to stay in my rooms until the decision is made.”

Lilia stared at Sonea in disbelief. She couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing. It would be more comfortable and less isolated than this room, and it indicated that the Guild might be willing to trust her not to attempt another escape. But she’d be staying with Sonea. A black magician.

Which is what I am, too, she reminded herself.

Even so, all novices found the two black magicians a little scary. She suspected that more than a few graduated magicians did as well. Sonea had used black magic. She’d killed with it.

Only in defence of Kyralia. Not like Naki has.

Sonea made a small beckoning gesture. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in.”

Not trusting herself to speak, Lilia nodded and followed the black-robed woman out of the room. The two guards eyed Sonea nervously, which did not make Lilia feel any better. She followed obediently through the passages and corridors of the University, out and across the courtyard, and into the Magicians’ Quarters.

In the wide corridor within, they passed two Alchemists. The man and woman nodded to Sonea politely, but their eyes slid to Lilia. She expected disapproval or suspicion. Instead they looked grim and sympathetic.

Only when she reached the top of the stairs did she work out why.

“Naki,” she found herself saying.

Sonea glanced at her. “I have news of her, as well. Come inside first.”

At once a deep dread filled Lilia. The news isn’t going to be good, she thought. I shouldn’t care what’s happened to Naki, after what she did to me. But she knew that she would.

They paused before a door, which swung inward. Sonea gestured for Lilia to enter first. Stepping through, Lilia took in the simple but luxurious surrounds and realised that someone was standing in front of the guest room chairs. As she recognised who it was, her heart leapt.

“Anyi!”

The young woman smiled, stepped forward and gave Lilia a quick hug. “Lilia,” she said. “I had to see how you were doing.” She looked at Sonea. “Have you told her yet?”

Sonea shook her head. “I was about to.” She met Lilia’s gaze, her expression serious and sympathetic. “You were right: the king did not grant Naki a pardon. She was executed late last night.”

Though Lilia had expected it, the news sent a shock through her. She sat down in the closest chair. For a while all she could do was breathe.

Gone. Naki is gone. She was so young. As they say, she was full of potential. Maybe it’s a good thing that her potential wasn’t realised, though. Who knows how many more people she would have killed?

A hand touched her back. She realised that Anyi was sitting beside her. The young woman smiled, but her eyes were full of concern.

“I’ll be all right,” Lilia told her.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Sonea said. She opened the door and slipped out of the room.

Lilia gaped at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Anyi asked.

“She left me here alone.”

“Alone? I’m here.”

Lilia shook her head. “Sorry. I meant unguarded. By magicians.” She narrowed her eyes at Anyi. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Anyi laughed. “There’s always something I’m not telling someone. That’s a part of my job. But no, I’m not a magician. Not a shred of magic in me. I got myself tested once, when I was a child. I thought if I could get into the Guild it would be a great way to spite Cery.”

“Spite Cery? Why would getting into the Guild do that?”

A look of surprise and then realisation crossed Anyi’s face, then she cursed and smacked her palm onto her forehead.

“What is it? You just gave something away, didn’t you?” Lilia considered Anyi’s words. “You’ve known Cery since you were a child.” No wonder Anyi was so loyal. Except that she had once wanted to spite him. As if … “He’s your father!”

Letting out a groan, Anyi nodded. “I am clearly much better at being a bodyguard than keeping secrets.”

“What’s the problem with people knowing your father’s a Thief?”

Anyi grimaced. “Skellin had Cery’s second wife and my half-brothers murdered. Well, we think it was him.”

“Oh.” All Lilia’s satisfaction at guessing the truth melted away. “So you’re afraid that, if he finds out you’re Cery’s daughter, he’ll try to kill you, too.”

Anyi shrugged. “He’d kill me anyway if he had the chance, because I’m Cery’s bodyguard. It’s more likely he’d do something to me to hurt or blackmail Cery, if he found out we’re related.”

“Well … your secret’s safe with me. Though if Sonea or Kallen ever read my mind—”

“Sonea knows. Kallen, on the other hand …” Anyi frowned, then regarded Lilia with one eyebrow raised. “I don’t suppose you feel like running away with me? With Cery’s help, I can take you somewhere the Guild will never find you.”

Lilia’s heart flipped over. “No. It’s tempting, but staying is … the right thing to do. I never really cared much about that, but I do now.”

“Even if they put you back in the Lookout? How is that right? It would be a waste.”

“No.” Lilia shook her head. “I broke a law, and my vow. I did it out of stupidity, not malice, but I need to be seen to be punished so that novices like Naki don’t do the things she did.” She shivered. “The last thing the Guild needs is to waste time and magic looking for me when it should be finding Skellin and Lorandra.”

But if I did go, Lilia suddenly thought, I could help protect Anyi. And Cery. It would be like returning the favour they gave me …

Anyi nodded slowly. “Well, it’s your decision.” She placed a hand on Lilia’s and squeezed. “I hope they don’t lock you up, because I’ve got rather fond of you. I’d like to see you again.”

Lilia smiled in gratitude. “I’d like to see you again, too.”

A tap at the door drew their attention. Anyi let go of Lilia’s hand and stood up as Sonea entered.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sonea said. She looked at Anyi. “A rather cryptic message just arrived from Cery.” She handed over a small slip of paper. “I think he wants you to return.”

Anyi read it and nodded. “He wants me to pick up some sweet buns on the way.” Anyi turned back to Lilia and smiled. “Good luck.”

To Lilia’s amusement, Sonea beckoned and took her into a small bedroom, closing the door.

“This is where you’ll sleep,” Sonea told her. She bent to the door, obviously listening. “Cery always has another way of getting into the room than the corridor and I assume Anyi used the same method,” she explained. “I don’t want to know how, in case my mind is ever read.”

Lilia heard a dull thud. It must have been a signal, for Sonea turned the handle and opened the door. The guest room was now empty. Sonea turned to regard Lilia.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Lilia nodded. Though learning of Naki’s execution had been a shock, she felt better than she had expected. Not happy, but accepting of how things had turned out and hopeful that the future would be better.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Sonea smiled. “Hopefully we’ll have a more permanent home for you soon. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.”

Lorkin woke with a jolt.

Looking around, he made out his “rescuers” and fellow travel companions in the dim light of the carriage interior. All were asleep. He sighed in relief.

Since he had first joined them, the three Masters had pestered him for stories of his time among the Traitors. He’d refused to answer questions about even the most trivial details of Traitor life, saying that he dare not say anything until he had permission to from Ambassador Dannyl. Fortunately, their continuing attempts to worm something out of him were in a spirit of trying their luck. His silence on the subject was a challenge to them, but they did not want to risk the censure of those higher up in the Sachakan hierarchy – especially not the king.

The three men were determined to take Lorkin back to Arvice as quickly as possible. Lorkin hoped their motive was a desire to be credited with his rescue and safe return, rather than an expectation that the king would be eager to get hold of him and extract information. Master Akami had ordered the slaves to drive the carriage as fast as could be managed without ruining the horses, stopping off to change to fresh ones at estates along the way. The slaves took it in turns to drive, those who were resting binding themselves to the exterior seat at the back of the carriage so that they didn’t fall off while they dozed or slept.

It had grown unpleasantly fragrant in the cabin, not helped by the pungent odour of the hunter’s clothes Lorkin was wearing. They’d insisted he ditch the cape, but when they’d offered him typical Sachakan garb he’d declined, saying it was more appropriate that the next change of clothes he made was into Guild robes.

Looking out of the carriage window, he saw that everywhere was bathed in a pale light. It illuminated walls on either side of the road, and that could only mean one thing.

Arvice! We have reached the city! In just two days and nights.

It seemed incredible, considering how long it had taken him to get from the city to the mountains, but he and Tyvara had been on foot, not in carriages travelling at their fastest, with a change of horses whenever they tired.

“We’re back,” a voice said. Lorkin looked up to see that Master Akami was awake, stretching his arms and legs, and yawning simultaneously. The young Sachakan smiled at Lorkin, then tapped on the roof. “To the Palace,” he said.

Lorkin felt a chill run down his spine.

“Straight to the Palace?” he asked.

Akami nodded. “We should get you delivered as soon as possible.”

“But … I need to go the Guild House first. It would be better if I had a bath and changed into robes before I presented myself to the king.” Lorkin grimaced. “It’s early, and if I were the king I wouldn’t want to be woken up only to be greeted by a filthy Kyralian magician.”

Akami frowned as he considered this.

“He’s right.”

Lorkin turned to see that Master Chatiko was awake, rubbing at his eyes. “The Palace will need to be told Lord Lorkin has returned, but they don’t need him hanging about waiting for the king to emerge.” Chatiko yawned. “And it’s likely to be a waste of everyone’s time, since Lord Lorkin is probably obliged to consult with the Ambassador before speaking to the king.”

Akami looked thoughtful. He nudged Master Voriko with a foot, and the young Sachakan roused himself reluctantly.

“What do you think, Vori? Take Lorkin to the Palace or the Guild House?”

Voriko had to be asked three times before he was awake enough to understand. He looked from Lorkin back to Akami, his eyebrows raised in an expression that suggested his friend was an idiot.

“Take him to the Guild House, of course. They won’t even let him in the Palace, in that state. They mightn’t even recognise him.”

Akami shrugged, then nodded. He tapped on the roof again. “Take us to the Guild House.”

As the carriage turned, Lorkin caught a glimpse of the crossroad they had been heading toward. The trees and flowers were familiar. It was the parade that led to the Palace.

That was close.

He hoped he didn’t look too relieved.

A wait followed, in which all but Lorkin and Akami fell asleep again. When the carriage finally passed through the gate of the Guild House, Lorkin let out what he hoped was a silent sigh of relief.

“Here you are, Lord Lorkin,” Akami said, opening the door with magic. The others woke and sat up. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Lorkin said. “Thank you for bringing me home, too.”

Akami smiled and patted Lorkin on the shoulder as he started down the carriage steps. “We’ll let the Palace know you’re back.”

Lorkin turned and watched the carriage leave. The Guild House slaves pushed gates closed behind it. He turned around to see two slaves lying face-down on the ground. One was the door slave, he remembered.

“Get up,” he ordered.

The two slaves rose, keeping their eyes downcast. He felt a long-forgotten disgust and anger at their situation, followed by curiosity. Were either of these men Traitor spies?

“I am Lord Lorkin, Ambassador Dannyl’s assistant,” he said. “Take me to Ambassador Dannyl.”

“Ambassador Dannyl is not here,” the door slave said.

“Oh. Well. Take me inside. I’d like a wash and some clean robes.”

The door slave beckoned and headed for the Guild House. Lorkin followed, feeling strangely powerful waves of sentimentality at the sight of the Master’s Room and the rendered, curved walls.

I made it. I’m finally back where it all started.

The slave paused to whisper to a female slave. She nodded and hurried away. A less pleasant memory rose as the door slave led him into his old rooms: a memory of a dead woman, lying naked on his bed. That room was dark. The slave led him into a different bedroom in the suite, then prostrated himself. Lorkin told him to go.

Lorkin created a globe light, looked around and nodded. It had been very considerate of the slave to choose another room.

The female slave returned with a large bowl of water and some towels, then left. Another brought a set of robes. Lorkin warmed the water with magic, then stripped off the hunter’s tunic and began to wash.

A sound drew his attention back to the doorway. He expected another slave, but instead found himself staring at a woman in green robes. She was staring at him with equal astonishment, and a little hostility.

Then it occurred to him who she must be.

“You’re my replacement,” he exclaimed. A woman assistant? Here in Sachaka? He felt instant admiration at her courage in volunteering for the role.

She blinked, then understanding dawned. “Lord Lorkin! You’re back!”

He nodded. “Yes. Where’s Ambassador Dannyl?”

She rolled her eyes. “In Duna, having a nice time getting to know the locals. He left me all alone to deal with anything that turned up.” Her gaze dropped to the hunter’s trousers, then back to his face. “Like you.”

Duna! It could take weeks before he gets back. What will I do if the king summons me before Dannyl returns?

“I’m Merria, by the way,” she said. She smiled. “I’ll let you finish. When you’re ready, send one of the slaves to let me know. I’ll be in the Master’s Room. We had better work out what we’re going to do. Do you need to get some sleep first?”

“No, but some food would be nice.”

She nodded. “I’ll arrange it.”

Waking from a doze, Dannyl looked around the cabin. Soft snores were coming from Tayend’s bed. The ship’s pitching and rolling was still pronounced, but it had stopped shuddering and groaning for some time now. Dannyl had no idea how much time had passed. More than a few days, he suspected.

He heard a heavy footstep, then realised that this was what had woken him. The cabin door opened. Achati paused at the threshold, then let go of the door frame, staggered forward and grabbed the edge of his bed. He crawled onto it and collapsed, face down.

Dannyl got out of the chair and approached the Sachakan.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Achati groaned, then sighed. “Yes. Just … tired.” He rolled over onto his back with an effort. “Storm’s passed. Go look, if you like.”

Holding back a chuckle, Dannyl left through the open door, closing it behind him. He climbed the short, steep stair to the upper deck, pushing through the hatch into sunlight.

The few slaves still about stood with sagging shoulders, holding onto ropes or railing as if too weak to support themselves. The captain sat watching as another slave held the wheel, dark shadows under his eyes. As the man’s eyes met Dannyl’s, he nodded. Dannyl returned the gesture. A faint smile pulled at the captain’s lips, then disappeared.

Glancing around the ship, Dannyl saw no sign of damage. Looking beyond, he saw that the skies to the south-east were dark with cloud. The edge of the storm, he guessed, moving away from them.

From the position of the sun, he reckoned it was mid-afternoon. The coast was visible to the right. A featureless land fringed by a short, eroding cliff. He considered the height of the latter thoughtfully. On the journey north he’d noted how the cliffs had grown steadily higher. If he could spot something now to indicate scale, he might be able to estimate how far from Arvice they were.

“Are we there yet?”

Surprised, Dannyl turned to see Tayend stepping through the hatch onto the deck. The Elyne looked tired and sick, but not as tired as Achati and not as sick as Tayend would have been if Dannyl hadn’t been Healing away his seasickness since leaving Duna.

“I have no idea,” Dannyl confessed.

“Achati’s asleep.” Tayend moved to stand beside Dannyl and looked around. “Storm’s passed.”

His observations didn’t seem to need an answer, so Dannyl stayed silent. They stared out at the sea. In comfortable, companionable silence, Dannyl thought, but he found that the longer neither of them spoke, the more aware he was of Tayend’s presence.

“How are you feeling?” he asked eventually.

“Not too bad.” Tayend shrugged. “I’ll probably take some more of that cure soon.”

“You don’t have to,” Dannyl assured him.

“No, it’s fine. I could do with the sleep.”

Dannyl nodded. “So, did you enjoy the trip?”

Tayend didn’t answer, and when Dannyl turned to look at him he saw the Elyne’s lips were pursed in thought.

“Yes and no,” Tayend replied. “I’m a bit disappointed I spent so much of it drugged. When we got to Duna it was better, though that ride up the canyon trail was rather unnerving. The tribes were interesting, but we only stayed a day and they only spoke to you.”

Dannyl grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t apologise. It wasn’t your decision.”

They fell silent again. Tayend turned full circle, looking at the ship and checking out the coast. He stopped and faced Dannyl.

“And you?” he asked. “Come to any decisions?”

There was an accusing tone to his question. Dannyl turned to frown at Tayend. The Elyne’s eyes were sharp and steady. Though Dannyl knew that Tayend was a lot smarter than his behaviour often suggested, he suddenly found that his former lover looked like an entirely different person. An older person, he thought. A more mature person.

“I know, Dannyl,” Tayend said in a low voice. “You two are definitely more than … friends. Do you think I wouldn’t be able to tell, after living with you for so long?”

Dannyl looked away, but not to avoid showing any guilt, he realised. To avoid glaring at Tayend in anger. He resisted the urge to glance back at the captain, or around at the slaves to see if any had heard, and created a barrier around them to contain sound.

“Nothing happened.”

Tayend sniffed in disgust. “No?” he said. Dannyl met his gaze. Tayend’s eyes narrowed, then he smiled thinly. “Oh, good. I managed to stop some part of your foolishness, then.”

“You were keeping us apart!” Dannyl accused. “I thought you might be jealous, but this is—”

“This has nothing to do with jealousy,” Tayend hissed. “He’s a Sachakan. An Ashaki. A black magician.”

“You think I haven’t noticed this?”

“Yes,” Tayend replied, his expression serious. “Because otherwise I’d have to consider that you’re either going senile, are blind with love or are turning traitor. Out of those I have no proof of the first two, which leaves me in an awkward position as an Ambassador.”

“I’m not turning into a traitor,” Dannyl replied. “Last time I looked, having a foreign lover was not an act of treachery, otherwise I’d never have bedded you.”

Tayend crossed his arms. “This is different. Our lands are allies. Sachaka is …”

Dannyl raised his eyebrows when Tayend didn’t finish the sentence. “The enemy? It will always be our enemy, if we never stop treating it as one.”

“It will never be our ally so long as Sachakans like Achati keep slaves and use black magic.” Tayend’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me your position is softening on that, as well.”

Dannyl shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Good. Because I’m watching you, Ambassador Dannyl. The moment you turn into a Sachakan, I’ll know.” Tayend turned away and moved back to the hatch, forcing Dannyl to quickly drop his sound-blocking shield. “Now I’m going to get some proper sleep.”

As the hatch closed, Dannyl turned away to stare at the sea again.

Turn into a Sachakan. How ridiculous.

But as so often happened with Tayend, he felt a little seed of doubt take root. What if he was? Was Achati the cause? Or was it simply that he was growing too used to the Sachakan way of doing things?

If that’s so, then there’s nothing to worry about. Everything will return to normal once we get back to the Guild House.

CHAPTER 29 THE DECISION

Most novices never get to see this room, Lilia thought as she followed Black Magician Sonea into Administrator Osen’s office. I’ve seen it more times than I’d ever want to.

The Administrator was sitting behind his desk and Black Magician Kallen was reclining in one of the guest chairs, but they both stood up as she and Sonea arrived. A third magician, hidden behind the back of the chair he was sitting in, got to his feet. To her surprise, it was University Director Jerrik.

“Lilia,” Osen said as he stepped around his desk and came forward to meet her. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked at him, feeling another twinge of surprise at such a conversational question.

“I’m well, Administrator Osen,” she answered. Tired of waiting to find out if I’m going to be locked up again, she added silently.

“Good,” he said. “As you know, we have been discussing what to do with you. I am happy to tell you that we have come to a decision, and it has been approved by the king.” He smiled. “You may rejoin the Guild and complete your training.”

She stared at him in disbelief, then felt a smile spring to her lips. “Thank you.”

His expression became serious. “It is not offered without some conditions, however. You will be required to make the Novices’ Vow again.”

Lilia nodded to show she was willing to do so.

“You will not be allowed to leave the Guild grounds unless given permission by myself, High Lord Balkan, Black Magician Kallen or Black Magician Sonea,” Osen continued. “You will not be allowed to use black magic unless, sometime in the future, the king approves you taking on the position of Black Magician. To identify you as one who knows black magic, your robes will feature a black band on the sleeves.”

Nodding again, Lilia hoped her disappointment didn’t show. Since meeting Anyi and hearing about the threat she and her father were facing from Skellin, Lilia had hoped to find a way to help her. If she was restricted to the Guild grounds, how could she do that?

“Because of the knowledge of black magic that you have, you will not be able to participate in lessons that require the linking of minds. In those situations, Black Magician Kallen or Black Magician Sonea will conduct the lesson.”

She tried not to blanch at the thought of more mental contact with either magician. But having my mind read was very different to the mind to mind lessons I had in the past. Still … I hope Sonea is the one who teaches me. Kallen is so stern and disapproving.

“Kallen has offered to take on your guardianship. We think your having a guardian will reassure people that we have you well in hand.” Osen’s tone was lighter as he said this. “Since we anticipate a protest from parents if you stay in the Novices’ Quarters, you will continue to stay in Black Magician Sonea’s rooms.”

Lilia suppressed a sigh of relief. For a moment she had been worried that she would have to stay with Kallen, but now that she considered it, she knew that it would be considered inappropriate for a young woman to stay in a single man’s rooms, no matter the difference in their ages.

“Do you accept these conditions?” Osen asked.

“I do,” she replied, nodding again.

“Then swear it.”

She paused, realising that he expected her to remember the Novices’ Vow. To her surprise the words came back to her easily.

“I swear that I will never harm another man or woman unless in defence of the Allied Lands,” she said. “I will obey the rules of the Guild. I will obey the order of any magician of the Guild, unless those orders involve breaking a law. I will never use magic unless instructed by a Guild magician.”

Osen smiled approvingly. He turned to nod at Director Jerrik. The man moved back to the chair he had been sitting in and picked something up. Returning, he held it out to Lilia.

It was a bundle of novice’s robes. Gratitude washed over her like a physical wave of warmth. To her embarrassment, she felt tears tickle the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she croaked.

Osen placed a hand on her shoulder briefly. “Welcome back.”

The other magicians murmured the same words. Overcome, Lilia could not speak. She felt Sonea touch her arm.

“That’s it, I think.” She looked at the others, who nodded. “Let’s go back to your room so you can get changed.”

Silently grateful, Lilia let the woman guide her out of the room, and back into a life as a Guild magician. Though knowing black magic means I’ll always be more restricted than most magicians, she thought. That’s a lot better than being locked away. Or dead.

And maybe, somehow, she could still find a way to help Anyi.

As the carriage pulled up outside the hospice side entrance, Sonea pushed aside a nagging reluctance and climbed out. She smiled and nodded at the Healers and helpers who greeted her, answering questions and asking them what she had missed since she’d last been there.

Their friendliness warmed her, and she was grateful all over again that she hadn’t been given the task of executing Naki. She made her way to the treatment-room door, gathered her determination, and knocked.

The door swung inward. Dorrien smiled at her and beckoned. She moved through and sat down.

“Why the serious look?” he asked.

She drew a breath to answer, then her courage faltered. We should chat a little before I deliver the bad news.

“I was wondering how people would react, if I had been chosen to be Naki’s executioner,” she told him.

He gave her a reflective look. “Serious thoughts, indeed.” He looked away as he considered. “I don’t think they would resent you for it.”

“But they would not be able to help thinking about it, when they were around me. They would fear me even more.”

“Fear you? They don’t fear you,” he told her.

She gave him a disbelieving look. He looked back at her, then shook his head.

“They’re intimidated by you, Sonea. That’s different. They’re scared of black magic, but they’re not scared of you. You’ve shown them that it doesn’t make a person into a murderer.”

“I’ve used it to kill,” she pointed out.

He spread his hands. “That’s different, too. It was in the defence of Kyralia. They’d do the same, in the same position.”

She looked away. “I also used Healing to kill. That seems even worse to me.” She looked around the room. “I’m a Healer. I’m supposed to mend people, not kill them. I think that, if I’d had to execute Naki, people would have found it difficult to reconcile the two.”

Dorrien’s jaw hardened. “She learned black magic deliberately, and killed with it for her own benefit.”

Sonea shrugged. “Even so, I think it would have changed the way people thought of me. I never got a chance to choose a discipline. I would have chosen to be a Healer. I work as a Healer, but I can never wear the green robes. I am a Black Magician. While I would not hesitate to defend Kyralia again, that role is not the one I wanted.”

He smiled wryly. “I prefer to think that Healing chose me.”

She nodded. “And I suppose despite everything, it still claimed me, though you were a strong influence behind me wanting it to, too.”

They regarded each other fondly. Perhaps too fondly, in Dorrien’s case. She gathered courage and determination. It’s time I put an end to this.

“Dorrien, I have been thinking a lot about … us.”

“There is no ‘us’, is there?” he said.

She looked at him in surprise. He gave her a wan smile.

“Father came to see me. Gave me the good news. Tylia will join the winter intake of novices. Kallen is probably going to be taking over the search for Skellin. ‘Why don’t you go back to your village?’ he suggested.”

Sonea stared at him. “Kallen is going to be taking over the search for Skellin?”

His eyebrows rose. “You didn’t know? Father didn’t say it was going to happen for certain.”

“No.” She resisted the urge to jump out of her seat and march straight back to Osen’s office. Unless … Rothen may have made this up in order to give Dorrien no excuse to stay in Imardin. But that seems a little extreme. Perhaps … I never told him about Dorrien’s infatuation with me, but has he guessed? She looked back at Dorrien.

He smiled crookedly. “He may be old, but it’s still very difficult to hide secrets from him.”

She shifted in her seat and pushed aside her annoyance. “I only asked him to see if Tylia could join the winter intake.”

“Why?”

She forced herself to meet his eyes. “So you were free to go home, if working with me became unbearable after I told you that … well … there will be no ‘us’.”

He winced. She could tell that he tried not to, but failed. “Why can’t there be?”

“Because you are married. Because while the idea of ‘us’ appeals, it doesn’t appeal enough that I would hurt Alina and your daughters. And because if you were to hurt them, then I would dislike you for it. And myself.”

He looked down. “I see. Father said as much. He also pointed out that Alina and I didn’t start getting along so badly until we came to Imardin.” He sighed. “I was ready to try city life. She wasn’t.” He managed a guilty smile. “Would you believe me if I said I do care about her?”

Sonea felt a pang of affection for him. “I would.”

He nodded. “I have to give it a try. That’s only fair. We’ve disagreed before, but we always got past it.” He shook his head. “It’s a pity she was so jealous of you. She is usually so lovely to people.”

Sonea shrugged. “I can’t blame her though. Even without her being as perceptive as Rothen, there’s all that black magic and reputation as a killer to get past.”

Dorrien shook a finger at her. “Stop that. Remember, you are what you chose to be. Your robes may be black, but you’ve got the heart of a Healer.”

Sonea looked down and shrugged. “Well, at least they make me look taller.”

He chuckled, then stood up. “Well, I had best get home and start making plans for our return to the village.”

Sonea rose and they swapped places. “When will you be leaving?”

“A few weeks after Tylia joins the University.”

“Will she settle in all right, do you think?”

He nodded. “She has already made some friends here, both starting at the same time as she will be now. Rothen will keep an eye on her.”

“And we both know he’ll do an excellent job of that.”

He smiled. “He will. Goodnight, Sonea.”

“Goodnight, Dorrien.”

As the door closed behind him, Sonea looked down in the chair he’d vacated. That hadn’t been as painful as she’d feared. For a moment she felt a pang of regret. If Dorrien hadn’t been married …

She pushed that thought away, walked to the door and opened it, waving to a Healer to indicate she was ready to see patients.

* * *

Shrugging into his robes, Lorkin smoothed down the fine, richly dyed purple cloth and sighed with both appreciation and wistfulness. It was strangely comforting to be dressed in robes again. When he’d returned to his new bedroom to catch up on some sleep he’d even contemplated, though briefly, sleeping in them.

They were so much less itchy than the hunter’s clothes, and yet the bulk of fabric felt overly indulgent and heavy after the plain, practical Traitor garb. He could not help enjoying the rich, dark colour, however. Though the dyes made in Sanctuary produced gentle hues, and he had come to see the aesthetic beauty in undyed fabric, there was something deeply satisfying about Alchemic purple.

And yet, I should not be wearing it. I should not be wearing robes at all. Not only because he was bound by his promise to return to Sanctuary and Tyvara, but because he had broken one of the Guild’s most serious laws. I learned black magic. Even if they saw fit to forgive that, they would probably insist I wear black robes now.

How and when he would tell them, he hadn’t yet decided.

Moving out into the central room of the suite, Lorkin saw Merria, who had been walking about the space, stop as she noticed him.

“Ah. Lorkin. You’re awake. Good.” She hurried over. “There’s something I didn’t think of until you were asleep. This.”

She held out a ring. A blood-red stone glinted in the setting. He felt his heart leap, and reached out to take it.

“Mother’s blood ring?”

“Yes. Ambassador Dannyl left it with me, since he took Administrator Osen’s ring with him, so I could contact the Guild.” She looked at him intently. “You’ll want to tell her you’re back, but I should probably still keep the ring. Is that all right?”

He smiled. “Of course. I won’t be going anywhere until Dannyl gets back, anyway.”

She looked relieved. “That’s good to know.” She looked at the ring, then at him, and smiled. “I’ll leave you to it.” She left the room.

Sitting down, Lorkin stared at the ring and gathered his thoughts. He slipped it on his finger.

—Mother?

—Lorkin? Lorkin! Is everything all right? Are you all right?

—Yes. Everything’s fine. Are you free to talk?

—Of course! Wait … I have a patient. I’ll just …

A long pause followed.

—I am alone now. Where are you? Can you tell me?

—I’m at the Guild House in Arvice.

—Not at the Traitors’ home?

—No. Queen Zarala sent me here. She sent me on a mission of sorts.

—Queen Zarala?

—Of the Traitors.

—You’re working for her now?

—Yes. But she knows I’d have never agreed to any task that would endanger the Allied Lands.

—That’s considerate of her.

He detected a tinge of disapproval and resentment in his mother’s tone. He smiled. He’d have been surprised if there hadn’t been.

—How are you? he asked.

—Good. A few problems were resolved in the Guild over the last few days. We have another black magician, I’m afraid. Two novices managed to learn it from a book. One learned it deliberately and killed with it, and tricked the other into learning it so that she would be blamed for murder. The first has been caught and executed. The other … she proved herself honourable enough to be allowed back into the Guild and University, though with conditions.

Lorkin could not help feeling a trickle of hope at that. If the Guild had forgiven a novice for learning black magic because she proved herself honourable, would they forgive him for learning it in order to bring them stone-making magic?

They’ll have to be more flexible toward black magic if they want to adopt stone-making magic, he reminded himself. And if they don’t, I’m going to return to Sanctuary anyway.

—Sounds like you’ve had some exciting times lately, he said.

—You don’t know the half of it. We also have foreign rogue magicians in the city, ruling most of the underworld. But I’ll save that story for when you get here.

—I look forward to hearing it.

—So what is this mission the Traitor queen has sent you on?

—To negotiate an alliance between the Traitors and the Allied Lands.

Sonea did not respond for several heartbeats.

—I gather the rest of Sachaka isn’t included in this.

—No.

—Exciting times ahead, I suspect.

—Yes.

—You want me to pass this on to Osen and Balkan?

—Yes. The queen sent me here because the route to the pass is not safe at this time of year. I suspect if I try to leave Arvice the Sachakans will try to stop me. I’m stuck here until Dannyl returns and officially orders me to return to Kyralia.

—I’ll get right onto it. So, what prompted this willingness to seek an alliance? I had the impression the Traitors were too secretive to want connection to the outside world.

—They do and they don’t. It’s … complicated. It has to do with Father.

—Ah. Dannyl told me what you’d told him: that Akkarin promised them something in return for learning black magic, but he didn’t deliver.

—He promised to teach them Healing, but he returned to the Guild because he wanted to warn everyone about the Ichani. Zarala gave me a blood ring of his—

—Oh! He said he’d made three blood rings, but he never said where the third one was.

—She used it to communicate with him. She said that something always prevented him returning, and after her daughter died she stopped using the ring. A sickness had struck the Traitors and killed many, and he was blamed for it because they believed Healing would have saved them. That wasn’t all there was to their bargain, however. Zarala promised Father that she would do something else, and she failed. She didn’t tell me what it was, but it was so secret that she couldn’t even tell her people. She said that sending me to negotiate an alliance had something to do with trying to achieve what she’d promised.

Lorkin waited as his mother absorbed all this.

—I’d really like to meet this woman, she eventually said. Which was not what he was expecting. He had expected her to say something about his father keeping secrets from them all. But then, he was a man of so many secrets, maybe it is no surprise that there were more.

—Hopefully I can arrange that. She is very old though. I don’t know if she will be able to make it to a meeting.

—Old, you say? So she must have been a lot older than Akkarin when they met. Do you have any details on the proposed terms of the alliance?

—No. The spy network among the slaves is ready to pass on instructions. We are to let them know if and when the Guild is ready to meet with the Traitors, who will select a safe location. But I can tell you this: I learned how to make gemstones with magical properties while I was there.

—Dannyl learned of these gemstones while in Duna recently. He said the Traitors stole the knowledge from the Duna. He’ll be excited to know they gave it to you. Well, so will all the Guild.

—You’ve heard from him?

—He contacted Osen a few days ago.

—He was still in Duna?

—Yes.

Lorkin muttered a curse. It would take Dannyl many days to return.

—Could you tell Osen to let Dannyl know I’m here? And to hurry up and come back.

—Of course. Is there anything else that the Traitors have to offer us in an alliance?

—Well … stone-making is of no use if you have no source of gemstones, and may involve a risk the Guild is not willing to take. I believe the Traitors would consider trading stones for something. They have a rudimentary knowledge of Healing now, but they could benefit from the help of good teachers. They might also offer to help us if Sachaka ever attacked the Allied Lands again.

—Oh, the Guild is going to love this! Is there anything else? I should go tell them straightaway.

—I don’t think so. If I think of anything, I’ll put the ring on. And I’ll check in with you in a few hours in case there’s anything the Guild needs to ask or you need to tell me.

—Good idea. And Lorkin?

—Yes?

—I’m so happy that you’re back. I love you and I’m very proud of you.

—I’m not back yet, Mother. But … thanks. I love you, too.

He removed the ring and slipped it into his pocket. He realised he was smiling, despite there being nobody to see it. Exciting times ahead, he thought. Thankfully I have this ring and can work at negotiations via Mother, or all I’d have to do here while waiting for Dannyl to return is eat, sleep and talk to Merria.

Judging from the unceasing chatter that had poured out of Dannyl’s new assistant that morning, he suspected that the Healer, stuck in the Guild House with little work and no company, had been very bored and lonely since Dannyl had left. Though she had, at least, made some friends among the Sachakan women, she hadn’t been able to leave the Guild House while Dannyl was absent.

He had to admit, though, it was nice to talk to other Guild magicians after all this time. It would be good to get more detailed news about the goings on in Imardin. And to find out how far Dannyl’s research had progressed since Lorkin had left – especially on the subject of the storestone.

CHAPTER 30 THE CHOICE

Slumping in the chair, Lilia looked down at the pile of books and paper on the desk and sighed. She’d met with University Director Jerrik that morning, before her first class since she’d learned black magic. He’d told her that he’d questioned her teachers, and gathered together a collection of exercises, practical assignments and essays that would bring her up to the same level as her fellow novices. Since she had missed the winter exams, she would have to study for those as well. It seemed like a lot of work for only a month or two of absence from the University, especially as she had to do not only that but also the work from her daily classes. The next few weeks were going to be very busy.

At least she could do the extra study in her room adjoining Sonea’s guest room, where it was quiet and the antics of her fellow novices wouldn’t distract her. After today’s classes, she suspected she would be doubly grateful for that. The other novices had ignored her, when they weren’t giving her dark, suspicious looks. Her old friends had made it clear they did not want anything to do with her now. Would they eventually forget what she had done, or would they continue to show their disapproval and fear, perhaps in other, nastier ways?

A muffled thump from the guest room made her jump. She got up, heart racing, and moved to the bedroom door. Putting her ear to it, she listened carefully.

And winced as someone knocked loudly on the door.

“Lilia? You there?”

At the familiar voice, Lilia’s heart lifted. She opened the door.

“Anyi!”

The tall girl grinned down at her, then stepped back and turned around, arms held out at her sides. Lilia smiled as she recognised the long, black hide-skin coat she’d sent as a thank you gift. To her relief, it fitted perfectly. In fact, Anyi looked even more striking than before.

“I love it,” Anyi said.

“It suits you,” Lilia told her.

“I know,” Anyi agreed, stroking the sleeves. Lilia laughed at the woman’s gleeful vanity. “Cery says thanks for the knives.”

“Sonea helped me choose them.”

Anyi chuckled. “Yes, she’d know exactly what his tastes were.” She looked at Lilia thoughtfully. “You know that Sonea and Cery were childhood friends, don’t you?”

Lilia shook her head. “No. I knew she was from the old slums, and had worked with the Thieves during the invasion.”

“Yes, Cery was her main contact among the Thieves. Akkarin recruited him to help hunt down Sachakan spies.”

“So they kept in touch all these years?”

Anyi shrugged. “I guess they must have. When Cery told me how to get here I asked him why he went to all that trouble. He said that, until recently, Sonea was restricted to the Guild grounds – like you are now. The only other place she was allowed to go was the hospices.”

“What do you mean by ‘all that trouble’?”

Anyi shrugged out of the coat. “There’s a bit of climbing, and apparently the tunnels are prone to collapsing these days. He’d do something about that if he wasn’t hiding from Skellin.” She tossed the coat over the back of a chair, then hesitated and looked close. “Curse it. The back got a bit scratched on the way up.”

Lilia sat down on one of the guest room chairs, and Anyi dropped into the one beside it. “Sonea told me she goes into the bedroom when Cery leaves, so she doesn’t see how he arrives, and that I should do the same thing when you go.”

Anyi nodded. “He advised we do that.”

“Sounds like you intend to visit on a regular basis.”

“I do.” Anyi smiled. “If you’d like me to.”

Lilia nodded. “Very much. I’ve lost the friends I had here. The ones in my class won’t talk to me. Naki is … gone. I don’t think anyone else is going to want to be my friend,” she lifted up her arms to show the black bands stitched around the sleeves of her robes, “now that I know black magic. Even if they wanted to, their parents would stop them. If they did want to, I’d have to worry what their real intentions were.”

Anyi grimaced in sympathy. “That’s going to be tough.”

“It’s not going to stop after I graduate, either.”

“At least Sonea is willing to trust you.” Anyi looked around the room. “She has friends, here and outside the Guild. Even if others don’t take that as a good sign, you should. You should also know …” Anyi leaned over the arm of her chair and reached out to touch Lilia’s cheek.

Surprised and unused to such contact, Lilia stilled. She met Anyi’s gaze. The woman’s expression was thoughtful and intense. Anyi slipped off her chair and knelt on the floor beside Lilia’s in one graceful movement. Her hand did not move from Lilia’s cheek, or her eyes from Lilia’s.

“You should also know this,” she said.

Leaning close, she kissed Lilia. It was a slow, lingering kiss. It was definitely not the kiss of mere friendship, and Lilia could not help responding in kind. It confirmed all that she had guessed about Anyi and all she had suspected of herself. It was not just Naki, she thought. It’s me – and it’s Anyi. And it could be me and Anyi.

Anyi pulled away a little, then smiled and folded herself back into her chair. She looked, Lilia mused, rather smug.

“I know it’s too soon since Naki,” she said. “But I thought you should know. In case you’re interested.”

Lilia put a hand to her heart. It was beating very fast. She felt elated and reckless. She laughed to herself, then looked at Anyi.

“I’m definitely interested – and it’s not too soon since Naki.”

Anyi’s smile widened, but then she looked away and frowned. “Even so, I’d hate for Sonea to walk in on us …”

“She’s at a meeting, and is going straight to the hospice afterwards. Night shift. Won’t be back until morning.”

“… or her servants,” Anyi added. She tapped her fingers on the edge of the chair, then stopped and smiled. “Tell me, how much do you know about the passages under the Guild?”

“I know of them, but I’ve never seen them. Nobody is allowed down there.”

“Well, unless you’re really serious about not breaking any rules any more, I could take you on a little tour.”

Lilia looked at the scratches on the back of Anyi’s jacket, then at her friend.

“I’ll … I’ll think about it.”

Sonea sat down in the chair Osen had offered with silent satisfaction. The Administrator had arranged for more seating to be brought into his office and arranged it in a rough circle before his desk. He’d insisted that Kallen not stand by the wall any more, which meant that Sonea did not feel obliged to stand up as well.

Now she and Kallen sat on either side of Osen and Balkan. The rest of the Higher Magicians had arranged themselves in no particular order, Sonea noted. Usually the Heads of Disciplines clustered together. She expected they’d still be the most vocal in this meeting, however. Some things never changed.

Rothen looked up at her and smiled. She felt an answering smile spring to her lips. He had been overjoyed to hear of Lorkin’s return, and since learning that Lorkin would be attempting to negotiate an alliance and would be bringing the Guild a new kind of magic he had been bursting with pride. At one point he’d sighed and looked sad, and when Sonea had asked what was wrong he’d looked at her apologetically. She winced as she remembered what he’d said.

“It is a pity his father never got to see this.”

Which had made her heart ache for more than the obvious reasons. For Rothen to have said this of Akkarin indicated a level of forgiveness of the former High Lord that Sonea had not thought Rothen would ever reach.

For all that Lorkin had impressed others, Sonea was all too aware that he was not safe yet. What he was doing was risky. Even if the Sachakans did not know about it, they must still consider him a potential source of information about the Traitors. He would not be safe until he returned to Kyralia.

“The king has come to a decision,” Osen told them. He turned to Balkan. “The High Lord met with him again this evening. What did he say?”

“He has gained the agreement of the other leaders of the Allied Lands,” Balkan told them. Sonea felt an odd sensation somewhere between pride and regret. To consult with the rest of the Allied Lands so quickly would not have been possible twenty years ago. Now all Guild Ambassadors were given blood rings so they could communicate with the Administrator or High Lord whenever they needed to. “The meeting will take place and negotiations entered into. They have indicated their preferred terms. They have agreed that a Guild magician will represent the Allied Lands. The king has left the choice of representative to us.”

“There is no small risk involved,” Osen told them. “If King Amakira learns of the meeting he will try to prevent it. He may even see it as an act of war. We are, in effect, considering an alliance with the people he considers rebels and traitors.”

“Whoever we send will be vulnerable. We could send the entire Guild, and not be strong enough to counter an attack,” Balkan said, then he smiled crookedly. “Amakira would hardly fail to notice if we send an army of magicians his way. For this reason, we have decided that only two magicians will go.”

“However,” Osen continued. “Two of us have the potential to be as strong as an army of us.”

Sonea’s breath caught in her throat. Surely they weren’t going to send both her and Kallen? Who would be left to defend Kyralia? Lilia was far too inexperienced and untrained …

“We will send one black magician and an assistant,” Balkan said. “The assistant must be willing to offer his or her magical strength, if required. Since there is a risk that, if attacked, the two magicians’ minds will be read, the assistant cannot be a Higher Magician or know any more about the purpose of the trip than necessary. The black magician will wear Lord Leiden’s mind-read-blocking ring.”

Osen smiled thinly. “So, as you can see, our decision was reduced to one of two black magicians.” He looked at Kallen, then at Sonea. “Are you both willing to take on this role?”

“Yes,” Sonea replied. Kallen echoed her.

Osen looked around the rest of the circle. “Then the decision is left to the rest of us now. I will ask each of you in turn to speak your mind. Lady Vinara?”

Sonea felt frozen in place as the Higher Magicians discussed, often quite frankly, why they favoured her or Kallen as the representative. She was not surprised when Lord Garrel bluntly raised the issue of her trustworthiness, referring to her decision to learn black magic and her refusal to obey the Guild which had led to her exile. The others did not protest or agree, merely moved on to other matters as if what he’d said was not important. By the time the discussion wound to a close, she was unsure whether more of the Higher Magicians favoured her or Kallen.

“I think we have explored all the issues,” Osen said. “Now we will put it to a vote. All in favour of Black Magician Sonea representing the Allied Lands in these negotiations, raise your hands.”

Sonea counted. She noted that some who had argued for her had changed their minds, and vice versa. There was one less hand raised than lowered. Sonea felt her heart beat even faster with both excitement and anxiety. Osen turned to High Lord Balkan.

“Has your opinion changed?”

Balkan looked at Sonea and shook his head.

“My vote and the High Lord’s go to Sonea,” Osen stated. “Which tips our collective vote in her favour.” He looked at her and smiled grimly. “Congratulations.”

She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. While she had hoped to be chosen, so that she could see and protect Lorkin as soon as possible, the weight of responsibility in representing not only the Guild and Kyralia, but all the Allied Lands, was daunting. So was the prospect of returning to Sachaka, though this time she would not be an exile, hunted by the Ichani.

After all I said to Dorrien about only wanting to be a Healer, I’ve gone and got myself a task that will involve using black magic. But not to kill. Those who give me power will do so willingly, and hopefully I won’t have to use that power to kill, either.

“There are details to sort out and preparations to make,” Osen told them all. He stood up. “Black Magician Sonea will leave soon, but I expect it will not be for a few days at least. Perhaps not for a few weeks. Lorkin will need to relay our decision through the slave spy network to the Traitors and wait for a reply. There is the matter of choosing an assistant, but that will require further discussion and consultation. Thank you for your suggestions and advice. I need not remind you that this is all strictly secret. Goodnight.”

As the magicians rose, Balkan stepped forward and touched Sonea on the shoulder.

“Stay,” he murmured.

She nodded, unsurprised. When the last of the Higher Magicians had left the room except Osen and Balkan, she dropped back into the chair with a sigh.

“I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or not,” Osen said to her as he returned to his seat.

Sonea smiled wryly. “It is reassuring, even flattering, that you are willing to entrust me with the task. Especially when I’ve failed at the last one you set me.”

Osen frowned, then his eyebrows rose. “Finding Skellin?” He shrugged. “That is a trickier task than the one you have now.”

“Who will be taking it over?”

“Black Magician Kallen, most likely,” he told her. “Will your contacts consent to work with him?”

Sonea considered. “Yes, I think they will. They have little choice. Can I make a suggestion?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Lilia befriended one of my contact’s loyal friends and workers while she was looking for Naki. Since Kallen is also her guardian, it might be beneficial to everyone if Lilia was to be his assistant – or one of his assistants.”

Osen looked thoughtful, and nodded. “I will consider it, and suggest it to Kallen. It won’t be breaking the restrictions we set on her movements, if she is under Kallen’s orders.”

Sonea tried to imagine Cery meeting with Kallen, and failed. She tried not to wince.

Sorry Cery, but I can’t be two places at once. Kallen is nothing if not thorough and dedicated. I’m sure he will find Skellin eventually. She wondered if there was anything else she could do to help him.

“Now, do you have anyone in mind to take as your assist ant?”

Forcing her mind back to her new task, she considered the question, and nodded.

Everything was illuminated by lamplight. As the Inava drew level with the wharf, slaves on the deck tossed ropes to those waiting below. Staying out of the way, Dannyl looked out at the city. There wasn’t much to see. Since the majority of the buildings in Arvice were single storey, the view was a rather boring stretch of similar rooftops.

“Ah, look,” Achati said. “The Guild House carriage has arrived. I would have taken you home in mine.”

Dannyl looked at the Sachakan and frowned in concern. “Perhaps it is better that you go straight home. You still look tired.”

Achati smiled. “I am a little, but not from the overuse of power. Travel wears me more than it used to. As you know, I didn’t sleep much last night.”

A glint of amusement had entered his gaze. Dannyl smiled and looked away. The day the storm had passed, the ship had pulled in at an estate belonging to a friend of Achati’s. They had collapsed onto the offered beds and slept late into the next day, then decided to leave early the next morning to avoid sailing at night. Even so, unfavourable winds meant they had arrived at Arvice late.

The estate had been luxurious. Dannyl wasn’t surprised when, Tayend having picked up on the possibility that their host might have goods to trade with Elyne, insisted Achati help him with all discussions on the matter, which went late into the night.

“Looks like we will be going our separate ways from here,” Tayend said as he emerged from the hatch and took in his surroundings. He turned to Achati and smiled. “Thank you, Ashaki Achati, for arranging and guiding us on this adventure.”

Achati inclined his head in the Kyralian way. “A pleasure and an honour,” he said.

“Will we see you at the Guild House soon?”

“I hope so,” Achati replied. “I will report to my king and deal with any matters that have accumulated in my absence first, of course. Unless one of those matters concerns one or both of you, I will be sure to make a social visit as soon as I am free to.”

The captain approached to tell them the ship was secure and safe for them to depart. They went through more formalities as their trunks were carried off, then they followed their luggage to their respective vehicles.

Once inside the Guild House carriage, Tayend was uncharacteristically quiet. Dannyl considered striking up a conversation as the vehicle rolled through the streets, but the Elyne looked lost in thought. They both watched the walls of Arvice pass by in silence.

When they finally turned through the Guild House gates, Tayend drew in a deep breath and sighed. He looked at Dannyl and smiled.

“Well, that was certainly an interesting adventure. I can say I’ve visited six lands now, though I suppose Duna isn’t technically a country in its own right.”

Dannyl shook his head. “No, but I suspect it may as well be. I can’t see the Ashaki ever truly controlling it – or even wanting to, if they are sensible.”

Pushing open the door, Tayend climbed out. Dannyl followed, noting the slaves lying prone on the ground.

“Stand up,” he ordered wearily. “Go back to your duties.”

The door slave hurried to the entrance and led them inside. They emerged from the end of the entry corridor into the Master’s Room. Healer Merria was waiting for them … and another magician. Dannyl looked at the Alchemist and gaped in astonishment.

“Lorkin!”

The young magician smiled. “Ambassador. You have no idea how relieved I am to see you. How was your journey?”

Dannyl walked forward and grasped Lorkin’s arm in greeting. “Nothing compared to yours, I’m sure. You have no idea how relieved I am to see you.”

Lorkin grinned. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can guess. Would you like to wash and eat before I give you the news?”

Moving to one of the stools, Dannyl sat down. Lorkin chuckled.

“I gather that’s a ‘no’.”

“If you don’t mind,” Tayend said. “I’d like to wash and eat. I’m sure you can fill me in later.”

“Of course,” Dannyl said. “Tell the slaves to prepare something for us both.”

The Elyne hurried down the corridor to his room. As Lorkin and Merria sat down, Dannyl noted that both wore worried expressions.

“So is this good news or bad?”

Lorkin smiled wryly. “Both. The bad is this …”

He handed Dannyl a letter. Noting the Sachakan king’s seal, already broken, Dannyl opened the letter and read. He felt a chill run down his spine.

“So,” he said. “He forbids you to leave and informs you that he will summon you to meet with him once I have returned. It makes sense. You’ve spent months with the rebels so the king obviously wants to know everything you’ve learned.”

“You don’t expect me to tell him, do you?”

“Not unless the Guild – no, our king – orders you to.”

Lorkin looked worried. “Can he stop me leaving? Do I have to meet with him?”

“That depends how much he’s willing to test the peace between our lands.” Dannyl frowned. “The fact that you left to live with the rebels probably tested that peace quite a bit already. If we ignore this and send you home, it will be an even greater insult.”

“So what do we do?”

“You cooperate. You stay here. You meet him. You tell him nothing, respectfully and politely. We – myself, the Guild and king, and anyone else we can persuade to help us – work at persuading him to let you go.”

“It might take a long time.”

Dannyl nodded. “That’s very likely.”

Lorkin looked even more anxious now. He glanced at Merria, then at the door Tayend had disappeared through.

“There is … something else. I gather, since you were surprised to see me here, that you haven’t been in contact with Osen?”

Another chill ran down Dannyl’s spine. “No. There was a storm and … I’ve been too preoccupied to put on the ring.” He cursed silently. The blood rings were so useful and yet so limited. If only he’d been allowed to make a blood ring and leave it with the Administrator. Then Osen could have contacted him directly.

Lorkin met Dannyl’s eyes, his expression serious. He suddenly looked much older than he was – or than Dannyl was used to regarding him.

“I can’t discuss anything aloud in case we’re overheard. You need to contact Osen,” Lorkin said. “Now.”