The Magician’s Apprentice

Narvelan had answered. She felt a rush of cold and fear. Mother? Father? Are they alive?

Takado’s leering face flashed into her memory and she shuddered. He came back. Did he come back to punish her for humiliating him by repelling him with magic? Then she remembered Hanara. Did he come back to reclaim his property?

“Tessia, there is something I should tell you.”

She looked up at Avaria. Dread filled her. Did the woman know something? Did she know that Tessia’s parents were dead? How could she?

She might. All of this felt so unreal, it seemed anything was possible.

“Lord Dakon didn’t come to Imardin just to sort out some trade matters and see some friends,” Avaria told her. “He is part of a group of magicians known as the Circle of Friends, made up of country magicians and the city magicians who support them. We’re all concerned that Kyralia may soon be invaded by Sachakan magicians. He came here to gain assurance from the king that if any of the outer leys were taken, the city magicians would help to regain them.”

Tessia nodded to indicate she understood. She found she was not surprised. It explained the king’s conversation with her the previous night. And why she hadn’t been included in the gatherings Dakon and Jayan had attended. Dakon would have wanted as few people to know about the threat as possible. He wouldn’t have wanted her worrying helplessly about the safety of Mandryn and her parents while she was in Imardin.

My parents. Perhaps I should have been worried. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left...

Was her father treating injured villagers right now? Or was he one of the injured...or dead. No. She could see him, determined and exhausted, working away. She held on to that image. It was true until it had to be otherwise.

“None of us thought an attack would come this soon,” Avaria said, staring out of the wagon through the cover flap. Then she cursed. “The king must be wondering if we set it up.”

Tessia said nothing. Every word Avaria uttered solidified this new reality. Made sense of it. Tessia did not want it to be real. She wanted to go back to Kendaria’s house, back to her seat, and start time again from that moment.

But I can’t.

Suddenly she didn’t care if she never saw Kendaria or Avaria or any of the women who had befriended and welcomed her again. She didn’t care if she never saw another dissection. She just wanted to go home. To rush back to Mandryn and learn the truth, whether it was good or terrible.

And Dakon will want to as well, she realised. We’ll probably leave tonight. It’ll be a fast, exhausting journey. Probably on horseback rather than by wagon.

By the time the wagon stopped it was all she could do to stop leaping past Avaria and rushing inside the house to find Dakon. Gritting her teeth, she climbed out decorously. Once inside Avaria strode directly to the master’s room. Dakon, Jayan and Everran were there, talking.

“– volunteers,” Everran was saying. “They’ll be no more than a day behind you.”

They looked up as Avaria and Tessia arrived. Dakon opened his mouth.

“Don’t worry, Dakon,” Avaria said. “I’ve told Tessia your real reason for visiting Imardin. I expect you’ll all be leaving as soon as possible.”

“Yes.” Dakon looked at Tessia, his expression full of concern and apology. “I am sorry, Tessia. I don’t know if your parents are alive or not. I hope so.”

She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. “Jayan and I are leaving as soon as Lord Werrin, the magician the king has sent to accompany us, arrives. You will stay here.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to stop her.

“It will be a rough journey, Tessia. We have the use of the king’s messenger horses, so we will be riding from dawn each day until it is too dark to ride. When we get there we don’t know if we’ll find Takado and his allies waiting for us or not. It will be dangerous, especially for a new apprentice.”

“I’m no soft city woman,” she told him. “I can ride, for long hours if needed. And you taught me that apprentices, new or not, are not supposed to stray from their master’s side during times of conflict. You should have the extra strength of a second apprentice to call on.”

Dakon paused, then frowned and began to speak, but Avaria cut him off.

“Take the girl, you fool. She has healing knowledge. We can only hope it won’t be needed.”

Tessia winced. If it was needed then her father... no, she must not think about that. She must not lose hope.

Dakon stared at Avaria, then looked at Everran and Jayan. Both men nodded. He sighed and his shoulders slumped.

“Very well then. You have many tough days ahead, Tessia. If you find you are unable to bear them, say so and I’ll arrange... something.”

“Not as tough as what the people of Mandryn just went through,” she replied quietly.

As he met her gaze, she saw the same worry she felt, and suddenly her heart filled with love for this man. He truly cared about his people, and she had come to appreciate how rare that was.

She only hoped those people were still alive to be cared for.

CHAPTER 18

Jayan was sure there was no word to properly describe the weariness he felt. He was beyond “tired”. He was long past “exhausted”. He was sure he was on the brink of passing out completely. It took all his will to convince his legs to continue gripping the saddle, and his back to stay upright.

Some time in the last day or so his awareness had begun to shrink. First he became oblivious of their surroundings unless someone drew his attention to them. Then he was aware of Dakon, Tessia and Werrin only as shadows that should always be near; he would only rouse from this state if they weren’t. Then, as the soreness of his body increased and he endeavoured to ignore the pain, he eventually became wrapped up solely in himself for most of the long hours on the road, trusting his horse to keep up with the others without his direction.

A strange feeling crept over him as they descended into the valley he’d called home for so long. A premonition, perhaps. He was certain something bad was about to happen. But as Dakon rode on in front, crossing the bridge and entering Mandryn, Jayan found he was incapable of speaking. Unable to move, to tug on the reins and stop his horse. Unable to stop himself looking at the corpses strewn everywhere: on the road, in doorways, hanging out of windows. He looked, but he could not see details. Exhaustion made his sight blurry, his awareness frayed. His ears were deaf. Or perhaps it was just the stillness and silence of a village occupied only by dead people.

Then he did hear something. Footsteps. The sensuous metallic slide of a blade. He looked at Dakon walking in front. (When had they dismounted? He was so tired, he must have done it without realising.) The magician did not appear to have heard anything. Jayan opened his mouth to shout a warning, but no sound came out. It’s an ambush! he wanted to shout. Watch out! From shadows emerged indistinct figures. There was a flash of dazzling light and—

“Jayan.”

Startled, Jayan opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings. He was back astride the horse. He was not in Mandryn. The road climbed a ridge before him, but the horse had stopped.

“Jayan! Wake up!”

Tessia. The first voice had been different. Dakon’s. He straightened and turned in his saddle to see the pair several paces behind, staring at him. Werrin, the king’s magician, was frowning.

I fell asleep in the saddle, he thought. Lucky I didn’t fall off. Then he smiled wryly. I finally master the skill of sleeping in the saddle and what do I do? Have that same nightmare.

Turning his mount round, he directed it back down the road to join the others. Dakon’s expression was grim. Dark shadows hung under his eyes. Tessia was pale but her eyes were bright.

For the first few days of their journey, to Jayan’s annoyance, he had worried constantly about Tessia. As he had expected, she hadn’t complained once and rode silent and determined throughout each day. Because he knew her now, he’d worried that she wouldn’t speak up if she was suffering, and would fall behind. But in the last few