The Magician’s Apprentice

“Good. Now, to avoid others sensing what you are doing, you must strengthen your barrier. It will only hold the power you naturally contain if you don’t. Father will sense the leakage and know what I have taught you. You must also learn to draw power without leakage, too.”

He made her start and stop drawing power several times, alerting her whenever he sensed leakage. She was aware that some hours had passed before he pronounced her proficient enough to use black magic without alerting others. Looking at Vora, she searched for signs of weariness, but the old woman looked no different.

That’s good. I don’t want to drain Vora of too much energy. She isn’t young, and uses enough running around after me and Ikaro.

“Will I need more lessons?” she asked.

“No.” He smiled. “You’re a fast learner.”

Stara tossed her head in mock pride. “I guess I’m a natural.”

Ikaro smiled briefly, then turned thoughtful. “Perhaps you would have been, if you hadn’t learned magic in Elyne. Then Father would have been forced to teach you anyway.”

“Or had you killed,” Vora murmured. “Like most naturals.” Stara stared at them in disbelief, then shook her head. “Surely not. I know Sachakans kill slaves who are naturals, but do they really kill their own family members?”

“Naturals are . . .” Ikaro searched for a word.

“Dangerous,” Vora offered, rising and moving her cushion back to its former position. “Freaks. Ashaki don’t like not being able to decide who has magic and who doesn’t.”

“Sounds as if they ought to call them unnaturals,” Stara mused.

“Well, it’s best not to use the word,” Ikaro warned. “You will also have to be careful how you strengthen yourself, too, if that is your intent. By law, a magician can’t take power from another’s slave without the permission of its owner. Even I can’t strengthen myself here without permission. All the slaves here are Father’s.”

“Including Vora?”

“Including her.”

“So we just broke a law.”

He shrugged. “We didn’t use higher magic to strengthen anyone, just to teach.”

“Well, gaining power isn’t my aim right now. I only want to be sure I have all the abilities I might need when...well... later.”

“I understand,” Ikaro said. He smiled crookedly. “After all these years envying you, I find I want you to have as much freedom as possible, so you may survive and be happy.”

She smiled and patted his hand. “And I want the same for you two.”

“Well, in that case –” Vora said.

They all turned to look at her.

“– there is another ability that Stara needs. One that may save her life one day.”

Ikaro looked at Stara questioningly. She shrugged to show she had no idea what the woman was talking about. But I really want to know! she thought.

“What’s that, then?” Ikaro asked.

Vora’s smile was sly. “How to kill someone while bedding them, master.”

Nachira put a hand to her mouth and looked at her husband, eyes wide. Ikaro was smiling, but his face had reddened slightly.

“How am I supposed to teach her that?” he asked Vora.

“You tell me,” the woman replied, a challenge in her gaze. “Presumably it’s possible without resorting to incest or offending your wife.”

Ikaro nodded. “You’re right. Father told me how it was done, though I’ve never had cause to use that particular trick so I have no idea if I’d get it right.” He turned to look at Stara. “Apparently it is easier for women than men. Timing is crucial.”

She looked back at him expectantly. “How so?”

“At the moment of . . . er . . . highest pleasure the natural barrier we spoke of earlier disappears. Do you... know what I refer to?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I know the peak you’re talking about.” His face had reddened more, she noted. “I gather I’ll sense when the barrier disappears.”

“So I’ve been told.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then glanced at Nachira, who was looking amused. “As with the usual method of higher magic, once the drawing begins the source is helpless. But once you stop the natural barrier restores itself, so if you intend to kill then you must not stop drawing until you have taken all his energy. Of course, we’d appreciate it if you left killing your husband until after you have a child.”

Stara laughed. “Of course.”

“You never know,” Vora injected. “Stara may like her husband.” The three of them turned to look at the slave woman suspiciously. Vora raised her hands to indicate her innocence.

“Oh, I don’t know who he is. But you shouldn’t discount the possibility.” She looked at each of them, then shrugged. “I suppose if you insist on expecting the worst you can only be right, or pleasantly surprised.”

It’s all right for her, Stara thought. She’s not being forced to marry anyone. But then she checked herself. Am I jealous of a slave? No, there are worse fates than being married off... though Vora seems to have done well for herself. I hope she continues to serve Ikaro and Nachira after I’m gone.

To her surprise, Stara realised she would miss the bossy old woman.

The air was laden with smoke, the smell of it suggesting all the different things that had been burned, some of which turned the stomach. Wooden beams, scorched black and still glowing, jutted towards the sky. Bricks, wood and metal fragments were scattered everywhere. Not a single building in Vennea remained standing.

In among the rubble lay the dead. Their clothing fluttered in the wind. There was no blood. Somehow that made it more chilling.

Or perhaps it was the silence. There were noises here. The crackle of flames. The howling of a baby somewhere. The footsteps of the magicians and apprentices. But all sound was muffled and distant. Perhaps the horror has made me deaf, Dakon thought. My mind doesn’t want to believe this, so it refuses to take it all in.

“The Sachakans left,” the village baker said. He’d locked himself inside his oven, which had cooled just enough since the morning’s baking not to cook him, when the Sachakans searched his house, and had burns on his hands and scorched shoes. “When I knew I needed air I got out. There were people in the street. They were stealing from the houses that weren’t on fire. They told me the Sachakans had left.”

“Which direction did the Sachakans go?”

“I don’t know.”

Werrin nodded and thanked the man. He looked at Sabin. “We must find out. What do you think they’re up to now?”

“This has the feel of a proper invasion,” the sword master replied. “The numbers of them, the harvesting of strength. There is no advantage to them in holding a town, but they can gain strength and supplies from it. They know we are too few to defend all the outer villages and towns, so they strike and move on.”

“Learned their lesson in Tecurren?”

“Probably.”

“Where will they strike next?”

Sabin shrugged. “Our best strategy is to withdraw people to a more defendable location. Clear the outer villages and towns so there is nothing for them to take.”

“Sounds as if you’re suggesting we abandon the outer leys,” Narvelan said, frowning.

Sabin nodded. “We may have to. I know this is disappointing after all the work the Circle has done these last few years, but can you see any way we can protect them?”

Narvelan shook his head and sighed. He looked at Dakon. “Looks as if you and I are about to become landless. Will we have to give up our title of Lord, I wonder?”

“Better that than let all the people we govern perish,” Dakon replied.

“For now we may not need to abandon entire leys,” Sabin said. “We can withdraw the populations to places the Sachakans can’t approach in stealth, that can be evacuated easily.”