The Magicians' Guild

another man or woman unless in defense of the Allied Lands.' He tapped the first finger, then the others as he continued. 'To obey the rules of the Guild, to obey the laws of the King and orders of any magician unless those orders involve breaking a law, and to never use magic unless instructed by a magician.'

Sonea frowned. 'Why can't novices use magic unless a magician tells them to?'

Rothen chuckled. 'Plenty of novices have harmed themselves while experimenting without guidance. Magicians still need to take care, however. All teachers know that if they tell a novice to 'go practice,' without specifying exactly what they should practice, the novice will interpret the order as 'go practice anything you wish.' I can remember using that reasoning to justify spending a day fishing.'

Dannyl snorted. 'That's nothing.'

As the younger magician began telling her of his own exploits as a novice, Sonea considered the Novices' Vow. It contained nothing she would not have expected. She did not know what all the rules of the Guild were. Perhaps it was time to ask Rothen about them. The last two parts appeared to have been added purely to keep novices in line.

By leaving the Guild with her powers unblocked, she would be breaking the second part of the vow. Strangely, she had felt no reluctance to break a law unless it meant breaking a vow.

When Dannyl finished his anecdote, Rothen continued his explanation. 'The first two parts of the Magicians' Vow are the same,' he told her. 'But the third part changes to be a pledge to serve the ruler of one's own land, and the fourth becomes a promise to never use evil forms of magic.'

Sonea nodded. By letting her escape, Fergun would be breaking a law and the Magicians' Vow.

'What is the punishment if a magician breaks the Vow?'

Rothen shrugged. 'That depends how it was broken, which land the magician lives in, and the judgment of their ruler.'

'What happens if they are Kyralian?'

'The worst penalty is death, which is reserved for murderers. Otherwise, the strongest punishment is exile.'

'You ... block the magician's powers and send them away.'

'Yes. None of the Allied Lands will accept them. It was part of the agreement.'

She nodded. She couldn't ask him what Fergun would face if the Guild discovered he had arranged for her to leave with her powers intact. A question like that was sure to make Rothen suspicious.

If she agreed to Fergun's plan, she would have to hide well, or face similar punishment. The Guild would not offer her another chance to join them. She would have no choice but to rely on a Thief to hide her again - though she was sure Faren would do so eagerly if her powers were unblocked and controllable.

What would they ask her to do in return? She grimaced as she considered the prospect of spending the rest of her life hiding and doing the bidding of a Thief. All she really wanted was to be with her family.

Looking up at the snow covering the ground on either side of the path, she felt a pang of worry as she thought of her aunt and uncle shivering in some tiny room somewhere. This would be a hard time for them. They would have few customers. With Jonna's baby growing and Ranel's bad leg stiffening in the cold, how were they getting deliveries done? She should return to help them, not perform magic for a Thief.

But if she returned with magic, she was sure Faren would make sure her aunt and uncle lived well, and she would be able to Heal...

Yet if she cooperated with Rothen, she could be back with her aunt and uncle in a few weeks. Fergun's plans might take months ...

It was so hard to decide.

Frustrated, she wished, as she had so many times before, that she had never discovered her powers. They had ruined her life. They had nearly killed her. They had forced her to feel grateful to the hated magicians for saving her life. She just wanted to be rid of them.

Rothen slowed. Looking up, Sonea realized that the path came to an end at a wide, paved road ahead. As they reached it, several small, neat houses came in sight.

'These are the Residences,' Rothen told her.

The blackened skeletons of a few houses lay between some of the buildings. Rothen offered no explanation. He continued on to where the road ended in a large circle for turning a carriage. Walking over to a fallen tree trunk beside the road, he sat down.

As Dannyl folded his long legs and joined the older magician, Sonea looked around at the forest. Through the trees she saw a row of dark shapes in the snow, too regular to be natural.

'What are they?'

Rothen followed her gaze.

'That's the old cemetery. Shall we have a look?'

Dannyl turned abruptly to stare at the older magician. 'Now?'

'We've already come this far,' Rothen said, rising. 'It won't hurt to go a little farther.'

'Couldn't it wait until morning?' Dannyl cast an anxious look at the distant shapes.

Rothen raised his hand and a tiny speck of light suddenly sprang into existence just above his palm. It expanded rapidly into a round globe of light, then floated up to hover above their heads.

'I guess not.' Dannyl sighed.

Snow crunched under their boots as they started toward the cemetery. Sonea's shadow stretched to one side, then was joined by another as a second sphere of light flared into existence over Dannyl's head.

'Afraid of the dark, Dannyl?' Rothen said over his shoulder.

The tall magician did not reply. Chuckling, Rothen stepped over a fallen log and entered the clearing. Several rows of stones stretched into the gloom.

Drawing closer, Rothen sent his light forward to hover just above one of the stones. The snow melted quickly, revealing markings on the surface. As the light rose higher again, he indicated Sonea should move closer.

A decorative design had been carved around the edge of the slab, and she could see marks at the center which might once have been words.

'Can you read it?' Rothen asked.

Sonea ran her hand over the engravings.

'Lord Gamor,' she read, 'and a year ...' She frowned. 'No, I must be wrong.'

'I believe it says twenty-five of Urdon.'

'This is seven centuries old?'

'It certainly is. All of these graves are at least five centuries old. They're quite a mystery.'

Sonea looked up at the rows of stones. 'Why are they a mystery?'

'No magicians have been buried here since then, and none are buried outside of the Guild either.'

'Where are they buried?'

'They aren't.'

Sonea turned to regard him. A faint noise whispered among the trees nearby and Dannyl turned abruptly, his eyes wide. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise.

'Why not?' she asked.

Rothen moved forward and looked down at the grave. 'A magician four centuries ago described his magic as a constant companion. It can be a helpful friend, he said, or a deadly adversary.' He looked back at Sonea, his eyes hidden under the shadows of his brows.

'Think of everything you have learned about magic and control. Your powers developed naturally, but for most of us, we need to have our abilities triggered by another magician. Once that is done, we are bound by the demands of our powers for the rest of our lives. We have to learn to control them, and we have to maintain that control. If we don't, our magic will eventually destroy us.' He paused. 'For all of us, at the moment of our death, our grasp over our power ends and the remaining magic within us is released. We are, literally, consumed by it.'

Sonea looked down at the grave. Despite Rothen's shield of warmth, she felt cold to the bone.

She had thought that she would be rid of magic once she had learned Control, but now she knew that she would never be free of it. No matter what she did, it would always be there. One day, in some house in the slums, she would just flare out of existence ...