The Magician’s Apprentice

“No? You weren’t here at the time, then?”

“No.” Dakon rose and looked down at the floor rug. One corner of it had been scorched. He stepped onto the burnt patch and turned round. Then he pointed to the floor a few steps away. “Stand there.”

Mystified, Jayan obeyed.

“That’s where Tessia was lying.”

“Tessia?” Jayan asked. “The healer’s daughter?” Then he added. “Lying?”

“Yes.” Dakon backed away, looking over his shoulder as he stepped over a broken chair. When he was nearly in the corner of the room where the scorching was the worst, he stopped. “This is where Takado was standing when I arrived.”

Jayan raised his eyebrows. “What was Tessia doing in the room with Takado?”

“She had come to tend to Hanara.”

“Hanara?”

“The slave.”

“The slave was in here?”

“No – a few doors down, in the servant’s closet.”

“So why was she in here, on the floor? Or... why was Takado in here with her?” Jayan looked down at his feet, then over at Lord Dakon, and felt a shiver run across his skin as he realised which direction all the scorch marks ran in. “Oh.”

Dakon smiled and stepped back over the chair. “Yes. The answer to those questions may be less relevant than their consequences. Whatever the reason those two were in here alone together, with the door closed, the result was something neither expected.”

“It left her on the floor and . . .” Jayan look pointedly over Dakon’s shoulder, “did that. From the looks of it, I’d say she didn’t much like Takado’s company.”

Which meant Tessia used magic, he thought. Surely not...

The magician sighed. “We can’t dismiss the possibility that the Sachakan arranged this to look that way, so we would jump to conclusions about her. I can’t see why – except as a joke. But if he didn’t . . .” He shrugged and let the sentence hang.

If he didn’t, then Tessia is a natural.

Jayan watched his master closely, trying to judge what the man felt about this unexpected turn of events. By law, Kyralian magicians had to train naturals, no matter who they were, or what social status they had. Dakon did not look dismayed, but he didn’t look particularly pleased, either. Instead, he seemed worried. Lines Jayan hadn’t noticed before marked his forehead and each side of his mouth. That bothered the apprentice on another level. He had always been smugly relieved to have a teacher young enough to still be active and, well, not a boring, lecturing old man. Though Dakon was eighteen years older than Jayan, his mind was still youthful enough to be interesting, while knowledgeable enough to be a good resource. Jayan enjoyed Dakon’s company as much as his lessons.

And what do I think of Tessia joining us? He tried to imagine having the same sorts of conversations with a woman – and commoner – in the room, and couldn’t.

Tessia was by no means Dakon’s social equal, so perhaps she would not always be a part of their social evenings. No, he decided. She will have lessons separately, too, because they’ll be so basic there won’t be much point my being there. But she’ll demand a lot of Dakon’s time.

Abruptly, Jayan realised there was much he disliked about this turn of events. If Dakon had two apprentices, his time would have to be split between them. Unless...

“You don’t have to take her on,” Jayan said, making his tone reassuring. “You could send her to someone else.”

Dakon looked up at Jayan and smiled crookedly. “And send her away from her family? No, she stays here,” he said firmly. “But her family may not like it. The news must be delivered with some delicacy. Her father is obviously attached to her. To frighten her would be disastrous. Above all we must not give them high hopes then dash them. I have to test her, to be sure she is what she appears to be.”

Jayan nodded and turned away to hide his dismay. I suppose if anyone in the village must turn out to be a natural, at least it’s someone who doesn’t have to be taught to read and write. He moved to the chair Dakon had occupied and sat down. Then he smiled. “I wish I could have seen his face.”

“Veran’s?”

“No, Takado’s.”

Dakon chuckled and moved to another, slightly scorched, chair. “He wasn’t pleased. No, he looked disgusted.”

Sachakans hated naturals, Jayan knew. They didn’t fit into Sachakan social structure, a problem which was usually more dangerous for the natural than for the master. A person’s powers had to be particularly strong to surface on their own, yet no ordinary magician, no matter how powerful, could hope to match the strength of a higher magician, who had taken and stored magic numerous times from their slaves or apprentices. But a trained magician was much more dangerous to keep as a slave than an untrained latent. Sachakan naturals were too much trouble, and therefore doomed to die, if not killed by a magician then when they eventually lost control of their powers.

“It’s fortunate that I discovered them when I did,” Dakon added. “I suspect he would have killed her, and expected me to thank him for doing me a favour.”

Jayan shuddered. “And risk the uncontrolled release of her power when she died?”

“No risk if he drained her of power first.” Dakon sighed. “Takado knows I would have dealt with her before now if she had already shown signs of natural ability, so he could safely assume her power must only just be surfacing, and not be particularly dangerous.”

Jayan looked at the scorched and cracked wall. “That’s not dangerous?”

“It would be to a non-magician,” Dakon agreed. “It’s mostly cosmetic, though. Not much force behind it, or she’d have blown a hole in the wall.”

“How much damage would she have done if she’d been at the point of losing control completely?”

“The whole house. Maybe the village. Naturals are usually stronger than the average magician. Some have even suggested that those of us who would never have gained access to our power without help from our masters were never meant to be magicians.”

“The whole village.” Jayan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “When are you going to test her?”

Dakon sighed, then rose to his feet. “The sooner the better. I’ll give her a little time to get over the shock of what happened, then pay her family a visit, probably after dinner. I suspect she’d think me neglectful if I didn’t at least check to see if she was all right.” He strode to the door.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” Dakon smiled in gratitude. “The fewer scary magicians in her house the better.”

Then he turned and headed down the corridor.

CHAPTER 5

The house in which Healer Veran lived with his family was one of three that Dakon’s father had ordered constructed over thirty years before, to attract skilled men to the village. Looking at the simple, sturdy building with a critical eye, Dakon was happy to see it was showing no outward signs of decay. He relied on the occupants to tell him when repairs were needed. Sometimes villagers were too shy, proud, or even ignorant to ask for work to be done and as a result some of the houses hadn’t been as well maintained as they ought to have been.

Dakon’s and Veran’s fathers had been close friends for many years. Lord Yerven had met the opinionated Healer Berin in Imardin, and been so impressed by him that he offered him a position in his ley. Dakon had grown up not realising that their friendship was unusual for two men of different status and age. The twelve years’ difference in age was the lesser barrier since both men were in their middle to later years, but a close friendship that lasted when one was a subordinate and the other the local magician and lord was rare.

Dakon’s father had died five years ago, at the age of seventy-seven, and Berin had passed away less than a year later. Though Yerven had children late in life, and the difference in age between Dakon and Veran was smaller than that between their fathers, they had never been more than acquaintances.