“I’m Sheila the Apprentice,” the girl said. “Are you... are warlocks welcome here?”
“Yes, indeed,” Hanner said, swinging the door wide. “Come in!”
“Thank you,” Sheila said. She stepped inside, then stopped dead, staring at the lush furnishings and the motley collection of people marching through the hallway into the dining hall.
“Apprenticed to what trade?” Hanner asked politely as he closed the door, to distract her and put her at ease.
“Witch,” she said.
Uncle Faran, who had been ignoring the girl as he ushered his other guests into the dining room, suddenly turned to stare at her.
Hanner smiled.
“Come right this way,” he said as he led her past Uncle Faran to the head of the table.
Chapter Twenty-six
“I was standing out there for hours, trying to get up my nerve,” Sheila explained quietly to Manner as Lord Faran tried to get everyone lined up neatly. Faran had decided to leave her to his nephew for the moment; she spoke so softly that it took an effort to carry on a conversation, especially over the background noise the crowd of warlocks made, and he had other matters to attend to. “When I saw you send the soldiers away, I decided maybe you can protect me.”
“Protect you from what?”
“Everything,” the girl said, waving a hand vaguely. “I mean, I’m sure it’s bad enough for anyone, being a warlock, but being a witchand a warlock... well, that’s against the Wizards’ Guild law, isn’t it? My master thought so. He thought it might be against Sisterhood rules, as well.”
“I don’t think the Sisterhood could possibly have rules about warlocks yet,” Hanner said. He knew little about the loose organization of female witches, but from what little he did know, he couldn’t believe they were sufficiently organized to have made such a rule in just two days. “Besides, you don’t need to join the Sisterhood if you don’t want to.”
“But... well, don’t their rules apply to everyone, the way Wizards’ Guild rules do?”
“No, no,” Hanner said. “In order to be a wizard you have to join the Guild, and they kill anyone who breaks their rules about wizardry, but the Sisterhood isn’t like that at all. I’m not even sure theyhave rules, and if they do- well, they don’t apply to anyone but members. Besides, the Sisterhood doesn’t kill anyone, so far as I’ve ever heard. It’s more a social group than a guild.”
“The Brotherhood has rules,” Sheila said doubtfully. “My master told me some of them. He used to be a member.”
“But he’s not a member now?”
“No, he left. They didn’t like him taking a female apprentice.” “And they didn’t kill him, did they?”
It was like watching a cloud blow away from the sun to see her face as this sank in.
“No,” she said.
Then the cloud returned. “But the Wizards’ Guild still doesn’t allow mixing magic.”
“And the overlord doesn’t want warlocks in the city at all,” Hanner agreed. “But we’re here to fight that.”
Sheila nodded, but her expression remained worried and uncertain.
“So,” Hanner said, hoping to cheer her-and himself-up, “who’s your master? Does he know you’re here?”
“Kelder of Crookwall,” she said. “I don’t think he knows where I am-and I don’t think he cares.” She blinked rapidly, her mouth working, and Hanner realized she was on the verge of tears. “He threw me out.”
“But he can’t do that!” Hanner said. “A master is responsible for his apprentice!”
Sheila snuffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve, then dabbed at one eye. “He did, though,” she said. “He said I wasn’t a witch anymore, and never could be.”
“Because you’re a warlock?”
She nodded silently.
A thought struck Hanner.
Warlocks could move things without touching them; most warlocks, himself included, discovered what they were by finding themselves able to do this.
Butwitches could move things without touching them, too.
After all, the name “warlock” came from the resemblance to war-locked witches in the first place. Witches only levitated fairly small things, but still, what could this girl have moved that a witch couldn’t?
“How does heknow you’re a warlock?” he asked.
“Because of what I did,” Sheila said, so softly Hanner could barely hear her.
“Hanner, my boy,” Faran called, “could you and your young friend pay attention? We’re ready to begin.”
Hanner looked up. “In a moment, Uncle,” he said. Then he turned back to Sheila. “What did you do?”
“I turned Thellesh the Butcher into a warlock.”
Hanner blinked. “Hanner,” Faran said warningly.
Hanner held up a hand. “You didwhat}” he said.
“I was trying toheal him!” Sheila said loudly. Then her voice dropped back to its usual near inaudibility and the words spilled out in a rush, so fast Hanner had trouble keeping up. “He’d cut himself, and then slipped on the blood and hit his head on the wall, and Master Kelder said it was time I started to learn healing, so we fixed up Thellesh’s hand together, and then Master told me to study his head and see whether we could do anything there, so I tried to, but my witch sight wasn’t... I couldn’tsee properly, and then I did something, I don’t know what, and Icould see, but it was all different, and I could see inside Thellesh’s head, and I looked at how it was different from mine, because I thought mine would be working right, and I... I did something, I don’t know how to explain it, but it was like opening a tap, sort of, except I couldn’t close it again. And then Thellesh sat up, and he was better, but he felt funny, and he said he heard voices, and then he reached for his purse, and it jumped into his hand, and Master Kelder looked at us both and...”
At that point she finally lost control and began crying, quick soft little sobs and gasps.
“Hanner!” Faran barked.
Hanner looked up. “I’m sorry, Uncle,” he said. “I’ll take her to the parlor to calm down. We’ll be back.”
Faran glared at him. “Go on, then,” he said.
Hanner put an arm around Sheila’s shoulders and led her out of the dining room, across the hallway to the front parlor. He closed the dining-hall door on his way out.
If Sheila was telling the truth, then this might have huge significance. Up until now Hanner-and probably everyone else— had assumed that the people who had become warlocks on the Night of Madness were all the warlocks there would ever be, at least unless that same mysterious phenomenon happened again and created a whole new batch.
But if warlocks couldmake new warlocks, the way witches could train apprentice witches and wizards could help their apprentices make the ritual daggers they needed to become wizards, then... well, exterminating warlocks might not be as easy as Lord Azrad thought, and perhaps warlocks reallywere true magicians.
Hanner saw that Mavi had come downstairs, but still not gone home again-he wondered whether she might be waiting for him to accompany her. She and Alris were sitting in the front parlor, talking; they fell silent as Hanner and Sheila entered.
“Did Uncle throw you out with the rest of us nonwarlocks, then?” Alris asked.
Mavi got to her feet and stepped toward Sheila, apparently seeing the signs that she had been crying and seeking to comfort her, but the girl shied away, and Mavi stopped.
“I brought Sheila in here to calm down,” Hanner explained. “She’s had a very hard day. Her master threw her out.”
“She’s a warlock?” Alris asked Hanner. “Are you all right?” Mavi asked Sheila.
