The Magician’s Apprentice

other. The Elyne brought out a large gemstone which he held in his fist. A long, silent moment passed, then the three broke apart.

I have no idea what happened, Hanara mused. What is a store-stone? Clearly it was capable of holding magic. But why put magic into a stone?

Discussion had begun on practical matters. Hanara stopped listening and found himself gazing at Takado again.

His master’s eyes still stared at the ceiling. His mouth was slightly open. What would happen to him now? Would someone burn the body with the proper rites? Hanara doubted it. He felt the hand holding his arm squeeze, and looked up. One of the magicians was pointing towards him. The others had also turned to regard him.

“Him? He is the slave of the Betrayer,” the emperor said, nodding at Takado’s corpse.

“Really?” the young magician said. Hanara felt his heart sink as the man walked towards him and stopped a few steps away. “Hanara, isn’t it? I think Dakon would like to have a chat with you.” He smiled, but there was no friendliness in it. Hanara looked down, avoiding the man’s eyes, which looked a little crazed.

“Let him go,” the magician ordered.

The hand slid from Hanara’s arm. Surprised, Hanara glanced up, then quickly away from those strange eyes.

“I think I might need a slave of my own while we sort things out here,” the magician said. “You’ll do for now. Come with me.” The magician spun on his heel and walked away.

Swallowing hard, Hanara glanced back at the guard. The man shrugged, then made a shooing motion.

“Come on.”

Hanara looked up. The magician had stopped, and was beckoning. Taking a deep breath, Hanara forced himself to obey.

Forgive me, master, he thought as they passed Takado’s corpse. But I’m only a slave. And a slave, as they say, doesn’t get to choose his master. His master chooses him.

Pain throbbed through Tessia’s head. She wanted to sink back into oblivion, but the sharpness of it gave her no choice. She snapped into full consciousness.

Opening her eyes, she lifted hands to her head and instinctively felt for damage. There was a swelling to one side, but nothing more, and her hands did not come away stained with blood.

Haltingly, cautiously, she shifted other limbs and pushed herself up onto her elbows. She felt more bruises, but nothing worse. Her head swam for a moment, then cleared.

I’m fine. Uninjured.

She could not recall how she had ended up like this. She remembered having to leave the garden after they heard sounds of people moving about inside the house. She recalled hurrying down the main road, trying to keep to the shadows. She remembered passing burning houses. After that... nothing.

Had they been attacked? She’d not even been shielding. Jayan had told her to avoid using any magic unless she needed to. She hadn’t seen what had knocked her out. Her and . . .

Jayan? Where? She sat up and cast about. It was dark, only a glow of red from a fire burning low nearby lighting the road and rubble. Everything smelled of smoke and dust. Not daring to create a light and risk revealing her position, she got to her feet and felt her way forwards, circling about.

Suddenly her hands felt soft cloth rather than harsh stone. She recognised the shape and resistance of a leg beneath the fabric. A familiar smell teased her nose. Metallic. Like blood. But then all she could smell was smoke.

Maybe she had imagined it.

“Jayan?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

Feeling her way up the leg, she reached the waist, and wet stickiness. Her stomach sank. Whoever it was, they were bleeding. Her nose had been right.

I need light. I have to risk it.

Concentrating, she created the tiniest globe of light, cupping it between her hands. At once she knew two things: she had found Jayan and he had terrible injuries. Her heart lurched with dread. Was he dead or alive? She moved her hands further apart so the light spilled out. At once she saw the wound, a hole in his abdomen that seeped blood. Her heart filled with a wry hope. If blood was still flowing, he wasn’t dead yet.

“Jayan,” she said, reaching out and shaking his shoulder. “Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open and struggled to focus. Then he grimaced, squeezed his eyes tight then opened them again. This time his gaze locked onto her face.

“Tessia?” he croaked. “Are you all right?”

A wave of affection washed over her, almost overwhelming in its strength. For all his infuriating arrogance, and inability to empathise with others at times, he does think of others before himself.

“I’m fine. A bit bruised.” She paused. “You’re not.”

He grimaced. “I certainly don’t feel all right.”

“I’m going to heal you,” she told him.

He opened his mouth as if to protest, then closed it again and nodded. “I’d be disappointed in you if you didn’t try, at least,” he said.

She pulled a face at him, then pulled the fabric of his tunic up to expose his belly. Placing her hands either side of the wound, she closed her eyes and sent her mind forth.

At once she knew the damage was far worse than it appeared from outside. Something had penetrated deep into his abdomen, perforating the tube that snaked and coiled out from the stomach. Liquids had leaked from these into places normally protected from them, and were causing more damage. Blood had filled spaces between organs and was crushing them. Too much blood. He could die of blood loss alone.

For a moment she despaired. How could magic fix this? It was impossible. Jayan was doomed.

No! I can’t let him die. I have to try!

Drawing magic, she blocked the openings in the tubes to stop the contents seeping out. Then she gathered up the muck that had escaped and forced it out of his body via the wound. Turning her attention to the blood expanding the cavities it was leaking into, she channelled it out as well. That helped her find the sources of the bleeding, and clamp shut the damaged pulse paths.

What now?

She could feel his body weakening. Remembering how she had sensed the poisoned magician’s body using magic to repair itself, she looked for the same process happening within Jayan.

There. I see it. But there is still no way it is going to heal him in time. There is too much damage.

– Help me.

Surprised, Tessia’s mind nearly slipped out of his body.

– Jayan? Are you talking to me? –

Tessia? Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you. I think I was dreaming...

He was delirious.

– Hold on, she urged. Don’t give up yet.

– I’ll never give up on you.

Turning her mind back to the damage, she considered it carefully. There must be some way to mimic this healing magic. She tried to send magic into him, but could not shape it into anything but heat or force. Something nagged at her. Jayan’s words echoed in her mind. “Help me.” She would never forgive herself if she could not save him. There must be a way to do what his body was doing. “Help me.” Or at least speed his body’s healing up...

Wait... Perhaps she didn’t need to copy his body, just give it more magic. Boost the healing process with a lot more power. Drawing magic, she sent it in a gentle, unformed flow to mingle with that already flowing from him to the wounded areas of his body. It became part of that flow, was shaped in whatever mysterious way his body shaped it for healing.

That’s it!

She had doubled the flow, and saw double the effect. Now she sent greater amounts of power in, and saw the