The Rogue

was like a magical shield or barrier, and yet it wasn’t one.

She prodded it gently. It resisted. She pushed against it, but it was like a hard, cold wall. I need to try harder. It’s going to hurt. I need to be ready for that. She tried to brace herself for pain, but she had no idea how to do that mentally. It wasn’t as though she had muscles in her mind to tense.

Gathering her determination, she threw her will against the wall. At once a sharp pain exploded in her mind. She gasped, opened her eyes and grabbed at her head, which was now throbbing worse than any headache she’d suffered before.

Oh. That was bad. Rocking in the chair, she concentrated on her breathing and waited as the pain slowly faded away. Closing her eyes again, she considered the block. A powerful reluctance came over her to extend her senses anywhere near it again.

I love Naki. I have to help her. I have to find a way through this.

She pondered the block. How strong is it? It didn’t have a sense of strength. It was just there.

She thought about what Lorandra had said about black magic being a different sort of magic. She remembered the instructions in the book.

“In early training, an apprentice is taught to imagine his magic as a vessel – perhaps a box or a bottle. As he learns more he comes to understand what his senses tell him: that his body is the vessel, and that the natural barrier of magic at the skin contains his power within.”

My body is the vessel, she told herself, then she sought that expanding of awareness that she had experienced before. It came back to her instantly, and she felt a rush of excitement. She sought the block. It was still there.

But now it was irrelevant. The block protected the place she had been taught to reach for magic, but her whole body was full of magic. She could tap into it from anywhere …

Lilia opened her eyes. She reached for magic and felt it respond. She channelled it out and used it to lift Welor’s books from the table. A rush of triumph went through her.

I did it!

She jumped out of the chair and hurried to the door.

“I did it!” she exclaimed. “You were right!”

“Well done. Now get away from the door and be quiet,” Lorandra said in a low voice. “I can hear someone coming.”

Lilia’s heart skipped a beat. She backed away from the door and listened. Sure enough, the faint sound of a single set of footsteps could be heard.

“Dinner,” she said. “I’ll come talk to you afterwards.”

“Good girl.”

Turning away from the door, she moved toward the little table where she ate her meals and waited for Welor to enter, one moment exhilarated by her achievement, the next pushing away guilt over what she was intending to do.

I’m doing it for Naki, she told herself. It doesn’t matter what happens to me afterwards, so long as she’s safe.

It seemed like Lorkin had been waiting for someone to kill him for days now, never knowing if he had minutes or hours to live. Though he successfully fought the panic that constantly threatened to overwhelm him, nausea was relentless. Each time the prick of a blade on his skin heralded the draining of his recovering powers, he wondered if this time he would be dragged past exhaustion to oblivion. Each time the draining stopped, he felt a bitter relief.

I doubt the guards will be the ones to finish me off, he told himself. Kalia will want to do it herself.

Or would she? It was probably safer if some lesser magician dispatched him. Then she could argue that she hadn’t been the one to kill him, if his death was found to be suspicious. If her mind was read, however, he could not see how she could hide the fact that she’d given the order to kill him.

A new sound sent his heart pounding: that of the door opening and closing. Then came the sound that sent shivers of terror down his spine: Kalia’s voice.

“Is it time?” a guard asked.

“Not yet. I want to be sure I have everything I need.”

Lorkin’s stomach sank. He heard footsteps draw closer and wasn’t surprised when a force pinned him to the floor. Hearing the grunt of effort as Kalia crouched gave him a small sense of satisfaction. Cold fingers touched his forehead and he shuddered as her vile presence filled his mind.

At once he sensed that she was in a hurry. She probed his memories hastily, grasping those of Healing as soon as they rose, then she seemed to force herself to take more time, examining what she had learned the day before. He knew that she could see that the application of the knowledge had to be shaped and refined according to the illness or condition, but she didn’t have time to draw the details out of him. She would have to learn the rest by trial and error. Right now she only wanted to know how best to avoid doing harm.

“Speaker …”

The guard’s voice sounded distant, as if spoken from the other side of a wall or door. Kalia paused, then reluctantly released Lorkin’s mind and vanished from his senses.

He felt a tired, simmering anger. If you ever find out the truth, Tyvara, he thought, make sure she gets what she deserves.

“There’s no other way ou—”

“Be quiet,” Kalia snapped. She sounded close, as if she was still leaning over him.

Then he heard what they were listening to. Footsteps. Voices.

Kalia cursed.

The sound of the door opening reached him. Someone drew in a breath in shock.

“Get OFF him!”

“No, Tyvara,” another voice commanded.

Tyvara! Lorkin’s heart leapt. The force holding him down vanished. He struggled up into a sitting position and tried to rub the blindfold off against the rough wall behind him. Suddenly there were fingers roaming over his face again, only this time they were warm.

“Wait. Let me get this off,” Tyvara’s voice murmured. The blindfold slid upwards, releasing him reluctantly. He blinked in the brightness, then grinned as he saw Tyvara crouching in front of him, her face full of concern.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Not now you’re here.” He couldn’t stop smiling. “Are you going to get into trouble for talking to me?”

“Don’t be silly. Turn around.”

He obeyed, and felt the bindings around his wrists fall away. At the same time he felt a little part of his mind freed from a constraint he’d been barely aware of. Looking down at the bindings, he saw a pale yellow gemstone among a pile of bandages.

They tied me up with bandages. That they’d used materials meant for healing as restraints made him despise them even more. Did the stone stop me from calling out mentally? I suppose they’d need to create something like that, in case they had to stop a prisoner revealing their location.

Tyvara rose and helped him get to his feet. He felt giddy. Relief at no longer having to worry what would happen swept over him. He resisted a sudden urge to kiss her. She had turned to face the room, and he reluctantly dragged his eyes away from her to look at the other Traitors in the room.

Two Speakers faced Kalia. One was Savara. The other was Halana. More Traitor magicians stood in the corridor behind them.

“Did you learn how to Heal with magic from him?” Savara asked.

Kalia shrugged. “I might have.”

Savara looked at Lorkin. “Did she?”