The Magician’s Apprentice

days he’d been too caught up in his own weariness to do more than check now and then that she was still with them, and he felt guilty about that.

“Lord Werrin and I will go on from here,” Dakon said. “You and Tessia will wait here.”

Jayan frowned, then looked round again and felt a shock of recognition. This was a part of the road near Mandryn he and Dakon had occasionally ridden along on their morning rides. The village was not far away.

Tessia looked as if she would have protested, if she hadn’t been too tired to argue. Jayan felt the same. If there were more than one or two Sachakans watching the village, ready to attack any magicians that might approach, the chances were the four of them wouldn’t survive. Dakon no doubt felt that there was no point in risking Jayan and Tessia’s lives as well as his own and Werrin’s. Perhaps he also wanted to make sure there were no nasty sights for Tessia to stumble upon. Jayan watched as Werrin nudged his horse after Dakon’s and the pair rode up the ridge, then disappeared over the top.

“I’m supposed to stay near, aren’t I?” Tessia asked quietly. “Safer for me and him, or something like that.”

“Perhaps,” Jayan replied, thinking of his nightmare. “But it won’t make any difference if there are Sachakans waiting in ambush.”

She said nothing to that, just sat staring at the ridge.

“I guess we could get off and walk around a bit,” he suggested after a while. “Get our legs working again.”

She looked down at her horse, then smiled grimly at him. “I suspect if I did I’d never manage to get back on again. Dakon would come back to find me lying on the side of the road, my legs no longer working.”

Jayan nodded in agreement. “We should be ready to flee if any Sachakans turn up, too.”

“Well, at least this time I can be sure none of them will want to seduce me.” She ran a hand through the hair that had escaped her braid and grimaced. “I’m filthy, and I have riding sores on top of riding sores.”

He gazed at her wearily, amazed that she was still able to make light of their situation when her home and confirmation of the fate of her parents was a short ride away. She looked back at him and her smile faded, then she looked away.

Embarrassed, he realised. I should say something clever and reassuring. But everything that came to mind sounded trite or likely to give her the impression he was romantically interested in her – which he certainly wanted to avoid.

So he said nothing. The haunted look that had come into her eyes so many times during the ride had returned. Definitely better to say nothing, he decided.

When Dakon and Werrin appeared on the ridge Tessia felt a wave of nausea. Part of her desperately wanted an answer, to be released from the suspense of not knowing the fate of her parents. The other part didn’t want any news, if it were bad news.

The two magicians wore grim expressions. As they slowed to meet her and Jayan, Dakon looked straight at her. His expression was sympathetic. He shook his head.

For a moment she searched for another meaning – something else he might be trying to communicate to her. Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to face the truth. Dakon was not fool enough to make such a gesture and not know how she would read it.

They’re dead, she told herself. Father. Mother. Gone. Just like that. It felt unreal, as had the news of the attack so many days ago. What will it take to make me believe this? Do I even want to?

“The village is safe for us to visit,” Dakon told them. “Locals say the Sachakans headed for the mountains after the attack. Most of the buildings are burned or damaged so I’d advise against entering them in case they collapse. The dead . . .” He paused to draw in and then let out a deep breath. “The dead have been buried. Narvelan’s people did not know how long it would take for us to get here. The few survivors – some children who managed to hide – were able to provide names for the markers.”

They came to the top of the ridge. Tessia hadn’t realised they were moving. In the distance a thin thread of smoke marred the sky.

“Narvelan has returned to his village to evacuate his people,” Dakon continued. “We are to join him once we are finished here. It is possible, despite what we’ve been told, that the Sachakans have returned in stealth to await our return.”

They continued in silence. It was easier for Tessia to concentrate on the tension and fear of the others than think about her parents. She eyed distant clumps of trees or houses, looking for movement or human shapes. Was Takado watching? The leering face flashed through her memory and she felt a rush of fear.

Then she remembered her mistake earlier. Her quip about Sachakans seducing her. Jayan had given her an odd look and she had realised what she had revealed . . . this time I can be sure none of them will want to seduce me. This time. Unlike last time. He must have understood what had prompted her to use magic the first time. Did he think she had encouraged Takado? Did he wonder how far Takado’s “seduction” had gone?

At least I don’t have to worry about Mother and Father finding out.

She felt a wrench inside at the thought. Suddenly all the things they would never find out came to her. They would never see her become a higher magician. Her mother would never attend her wedding – if she ever married. Her father would never hear about her visit to the Healers’ Guild, or the dissection she’d watched. She’d never assist him in healing patients again.

The pain was almost too much to bear. She felt tears threatening and, conscious of the three men riding beside her, swallowed hard and blinked them away. She forced herself to think of something else and ended up worrying about the dangers of visiting the village instead.

Cresting another rise, the magicians reined in their horses. Tessia and Jayan joined them. She looked down at the village and caught her breath.

Dakon had been right. Most of the village was in ruins. Many buildings looked like toys smashed by a giant two-year-old child, and smoke still trailed out of a few of them. Where the Residence had been there was only a large pile of rubble. She searched for her parents’ house. It was hard to make out where among the ruins it had been.

As Dakon nudged his horse into motion again, they followed him down into the valley. Only when she reached the bridge did Tessia realise that Takado had torn it down. They rode down the bank beside the ruined spans, and the horses easily waded through the shallow flow of water. Once they’d climbed the other side a youngster Tessia recognised as one of the metal worker’s older boys emerged from behind a broken wall and jogged up to them.

“Lord Dakon,” he said, bobbing his head respectfully.

“Tiken. Would you show Apprentice Tessia and Apprentice Jayan to the graves,” Dakon asked.

The graves. Tessia felt her stomach sink, and shuddered.

The boy nodded, then looked up at Tessia and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Welcome back, Tess. Follow me.”

Silently, Tessia and Jayan rode behind Tiken as he led them down the main road. Finally Tessia was able to recognise the pile of rubble that had been her home. She paused to stare, searching for some sign of familiar furniture.

“I found your father’s bag,” Tiken said. “And some other things that weren’t broken. Been putting everything that might be valuable or useful where it won’t get rained on.”

She looked at him. “Thank you. I’ll need the bag, and if the other things are cures and tools I should take them too. They might be needed, if there’s another attack.”

Tiken nodded. Jayan was frowning. She indicated that the boy should continue on.

Moving between two buildings with smoke wafting from their windows, Tiken led them out into a small field. Long furrows of disturbed earth bulged from the grass. Each had a short, thick plank of wood protruding from the ground beside it, and names had been roughly carved into the surface.

Jayan cursed under his breath. “So many,” he muttered.

Tessia didn’t look at him. She felt fragile and suddenly resented his presence. Dismounting, she paused to stretch and let her legs recover a little, then walked stiffly towards the graves. So many. Dakon had said only a few children had survived. All the rest were dead. Old Neslie the widow. Jornen the metal worker and his wife. Cannia,