An image of a white house, not unlike the large merchant homes in the West Quarter, flashed through her mind. As she pushed open the double doors in her mind, she found herself facing the building. Between her room and this house was a narrow street.
The house had a single red door. The scene shifted and she found herself standing in front of it. As she touched the handle, it swung inward and she stepped into a large white room.
Paintings hung from the walls and cushioned chairs were arranged neatly in the room's corners. It reminded her a little of Rothen's guestroom, but grander. The sense of his personality was strong, like a powerful perfume or the warmth of sunlight.
She approached the closest picture. In it she saw herself in magicians' robes, talking earnestly with other magicians. Disturbed, she backed away.
Reluctantly, she moved along the wall. The next picture showed her in green robes, healing a man with an injured leg. She turned away quickly.
Looking back at the paintings, she suddenly understood that he
Then she found a black door that she had not seen before. As she looked at it, she knew that it was locked and she felt her suspicions return. He might not be able to lie, but perhaps he could conceal some truths.
The door swung inward. Through it Sonea saw a woman lying on a bed, her face deathly pale. A feeling of intense grief spilled out. Without warning, the door slammed shut again.
Sonea turned from the black door. A gust of perfumed air had entered the room, a mix of flowers and something crisp and unpleasant. The paintings of her in robes had swelled to fill the walls, but the colors were muted.
At once the room began to slide under her feet, propelling her to the red door. Stepping outside, she looked up. The face of her house rose before her. It was a plain wooden building, a bit worn, but still sturdy - typical of the better areas of the slums. Crossing the road, she re-entered the first room of her mind. The doors swung shut behind her.
As she pushed the doors open again she was surprised to find Rothen standing in front of her. He looked a little younger, and perhaps shorter, too.
'Are you going to invite me in?' he asked, smiling.
Stepping back, she gestured for him to enter. As he stepped over the threshold, the sense of his presence filled the room. He looked around, and she suddenly realized that it was no longer empty.
She felt a flush of guilt as she saw that, on a table nearby, was a box. It was one that she had broken into. The lid hung open and the documents inside were clearly visible.
Then she saw that Cery was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding three familiar books.
And in another corner stood Jonna and Ranel...
'Sonea.'
She turned to find that Rothen had placed his hands over his eyes.
'Put anything you don't want me to see behind doors.'
Glancing around the room, she concentrated on pushing everything away. They slid backward through the walls and disappeared.
Turning around, she realized that Rothen had disappeared.
Once more she opened the door and backed away to allow Rothen into the room. Catching a movement in the corner of her eye, she looked away, but whatever she had seen sank back into the walls. Turning back, she discovered that a new room had appeared beyond the door. A door stood open on the far side of this room and Rothen now stood in the doorway.
He stepped through the door and everything shifted. There were two rooms between them, then three.
She felt his hands release hers. Abruptly aware of the physical world, she opened her eyes. Rothen was leaning back in his chair, grimacing and rubbing his temples.
'Are you all right?' she asked, concerned. 'What happened?'
'I'm well.' He let his hands drop and smiled wryly. 'You pushed me right out of your mind. It's a natural reaction, and one you can learn to control. Don't worry, I'm used to it. I've taught many novices before.'
She nodded and rubbed her hands. 'Do you want to try again?'
He shook his head. 'Not now. We'll rest and work on your reading. Perhaps we'll try again this afternoon.'
Chapter 20
The Guild's Prisoner
Cery yawned. Since Sonea had been taken, sleep had become a coy thing. It evaded him when he needed it, and stalked him when he didn't. Right now, he needed to be more awake than he had ever been before.
A freezing wind whipped the trees and hedges, filling the air with noise and the occasional twig or leaf. The cold crept into his muscles, making them cramp. Shifting his weight carefully, he stretched and rubbed first one leg, then the other.
Looking up at the window again, he decided that if he thought 'look outside' any harder his head was going to explode. Obviously Sonea's talent for sensing minds didn't extend to detecting unexpected visitors outside her window.
He regarded the snowballs he had made, and doubt returned. If he threw one at her window it would have to hit it loud enough to wake her, but not loud enough to attract anyone else's attention. He had no idea if she was still in the room, or if she was alone.
