“Master Draffyd said I owe my life to you, but I already knew that.” I paused, then added, “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather owe it to.”
“Rhenn . . . I know what you’re doing must be dangerous. Please don’t take risks you don’t have to take.”
“That’s what they’re trying to teach me.” Among other things.
“Then listen to them.”
I smiled broadly at her. “Shall I tell Master Dichartyn you ordered me to listen to him.”
“If it pleases you.” The words were not quite coy, but there was a hint of chill.
“I’m sorry. I was teasing. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Teasing is fair,” she replied. “Condescension is not.”
I almost said I hadn’t been condescending, then thought better. “That’s fair, but I probably don’t recognize it all the time when I’m being condescending. If condescension isn’t fair, then you have to accept my apologies for inadvertent condescension.” I offered a mournful face.
Either the expression or the words brought a laugh, and I laughed with her, if very gently. Too many things hurt too much for enthusiastic laughter.
“Have you seen Rogaris or any of the others?”
“No. There’s no reason to, and we’ve been busy. I had to come up with an entire new design for High Holder Esquivyl. He decided that the rendition of the family crest that he approved two weeks ago wasn’t what he wanted after all. Or his new child bride decided that.”
“Did you meet her?”
“She simpers and bats her eyelashes, but she has more brains in the little finger she beckons to him with than he has in his skull.”
“Have you ever met High Holder Ryel?”
Seliora frowned, thinking. “No, but you never know. Why?”
“Just don’t mention my name. That’s all. His son attacked me.”
“What did you do?”
“I defended myself. Actually, there were two of them. They were both imagers who were senior to me. I partly blinded Johanyr-he’s Ryel’s son, and he was transferred to Mont D’Image to recover. He won’t be allowed to return to L’Excelsis. But I can’t imagine High Holder Ryel would look upon anyone connected to me in any way favorably.”
“Did the senior imagers try to stop them?”
“They did, but I didn’t know that they were trying to protect me. I didn’t know they were even around, and when it looked like Johanyr really meant to harm me, I tried to disable him. I disabled him a bit too much. That’s another reason why I can’t leave Imagisle for a while. I need to learn better control of what I do.”
“It isn’t just that, is it?”
I’d known that Seliora was perceptive, but her perception could make it hard for me. “No. The masters think that someone is hiring assassins to kill me, and they don’t want me to leave until I’m fully recovered and I’ve learned some more techniques.”
“High Holder Ryel?”
“They don’t know, and one doesn’t charge High Holders without a great deal of proof.”
Seliora nodded. “I won’t tell Papa and Mama. I’ll just tell them that all imagers run the risk of being targets at times . . . especially the good ones.”
“I’m just a junior imager third.”
“That’s like a journeyman imager, isn’t it?”
I supposed it was. I nodded.
“That makes you good. How many imagers become journeymen in less than half a year?”
Things had happened so fast I hadn’t considered that. “I don’t know, but you’re probably right. I just didn’t think of it that way.”
“You haven’t told your parents, either, have you?”
“No. I won’t say a thing unless I become a master.”
“You’re as proud as any Pharsi, Rhenn.” Her smile was warm, sympathetic, and sad, all at once. “There must be some of that blood somewhere in your background.”
I could only shrug . . . slightly, and I still had to hide a wince.
She took my hands again. “I can’t stay long. Not today. We’re having a birthday dinner for Grandmama.” Another smile followed. “Could we have a picnic here next Samedi?”
“Are you sure you want to go to that trouble?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. You wouldn’t mind if Odelia brought Kolasyn, would you?”
“I can’t see that as a problem. I am allowed visitors when I’m free, and there’s no restriction, except common sense, I suppose.”
“Half past fourth bell?”
“I’ll be here.”
“So will I.” She leaned forward and brushed my cheek with her lips, squeezing my hands.
After a moment, we stood. Then we walked toward Odelia, who rose.
When they headed toward the bridge, I just sat down on the bench and watched the two of them walk back across the bridge to L’Excelsis, a reminder of sorts that the city I’d grown up in was now a foreign land, at least in some ways.
43
Seeking fame can be as deadly as poison.
On Lundi, I handed in the essay for Master Jhulian. He read it, then nodded. “It is acceptable, and that is all I could expect from an imager who is not a legal scholar.”
I knew the essay wasn’t outstanding, but just acceptable?
On Mardi, I handed in the essay on the qualities of a counterspy to Master Dichartyn. He took his time reading through the four pages. Then he set it down on the writing desk.
“You have noted in some detail the obvious points, that an imager counterspy should be accomplished in technique, be in excellent physical condition, and be able to anticipate what may happen.” The coolness of his words suggested that Master Dichartyn was less than pleased. “Tell me, Rhennthyl. Besides your need to recover, why are you being confined to Imagisle?”
“You had indicated, sir, that was to protect me until I learned enough to defend myself and until the Collegium and I could deal with the perpetrator of the attack.”
“That is true. Why is the perpetrator of the attack seeking you?”
“Because I did something that offended or upset him, or her.”
“That is also most probably true. In connection with your assignment, what conclusion should you draw?”
“Never let anyone know what you are doing, have done, or might do?”
“That is also true, but that is a behavior pattern, not a quality, if you will. I will give you a hint. How did your first meeting go with Maitre Dyana?”
I thought back. Her initial appraisal of me had been strange, because she’d said she could see why I was Master Dichartyn’s protege. “She said I could be any number of things.”
“Rhennthyl! Think . . .”
“Oh . . . the quality of being anything except an imager agent?”
“Precisely.” He shook his head. “The last thing you want is to be noticed-or noticed for what you really are. Any time anyone notices you as excessively capable and bright, you endanger yourself, and sometimes the
