The Novice

The others turned to stare at Sonea.

“What do you mean?” Issle sneered. “You either have or you haven’t.”

Sonea looked down at the table, then narrowed her eyes at the girl. “All right, since you just have to know. One night, about two years ago, I was grabbed by a man and pulled into an alley. He was... well, you can be sure he wasn’t about to ask for directions. When I got a hand free I stuck my knife into him and ran. I didn’t hang around, so I don’t know if he lived or not.”

They were silent for several minutes.

“You could have screamed,” Issle suggested.

“Do you really think anyone is going to risk their life to save some poor girl?” Sonea asked coldly. “The man might have cut my throat to shut me up, or I might have attracted more thugs.”

Bina shivered. “That’s awful.”

Sonea felt a spark of hope at the girl’s sympathy, but it fled at the next question.

“You carry a knife?”

Hearing the Lonmar accent, Sonea turned to meet Elayk’s green eyes. “Everyone does. For opening parcels, slicing fruit—”

“Cutting purse strings,” Issle injected.

Sonea gave the girl a level look. Issle stared back coldly. Obviously I wasted my time helping this one, Sonea thought.

“Sonea,” a voice suddenly called. “Look what I saved for you.”

The novices turned as a familiar figure strolled up to the table holding a plate. Regin grinned, then thrust the plate in front of Sonea. She flushed as she saw it was covered with bread crusts and food scraps.

“You’re such a generous, well-mannered boy, Regin.” She pushed the plate away. “Thank you, but I’ve eaten already.”

“But you must be hungry still,” he said in mock sympathy. “Look at you. You’re so small and skinny. You really look like you could do with a good meal or three. Didn’t your parents feed you properly?” He pushed the plate in front of her again.

Sonea pushed it back. “No, actually, they didn’t.”

“They’re dead,” someone offered.

“Well, why don’t you take it with you in case you get hungry later?” With a quick shove he pushed the plate over the edge of the table into her lap. Several titters escaped the novices as soggy food splashed over her robes and onto the floor, covering both with thick, brown sauce. Sonea cursed, forgetting Rothen’s careful instructions, and Issle made a small sound of disgust.

Looking up, she opened her mouth to speak, but at that instant the University gong began to ring.

“Oh, dear!” Regin exclaimed. “Time for class. Sorry we can’t stay to watch you eat, Sonea.” He turned to the others. “Come on, everybody. We don’t want to be late, do we?”

Regin swaggered away, the others following. Soon Sonea was the only novice left in the Foodhall. Sighing, she stood up, cradling the mess, and carefully pushed the food back onto the table. Looking down at the sticky brown sauce covering her robe, she cursed again, softly.

What was she going to do now? She couldn’t go to her next lesson with food stains all over her. The teacher would only send her back to her room to change, which would give Regin even more to gloat over. No, she would have to dash back to Rothen’s apartments first, and think of a more mundane excuse for her late arrival.

Hoping that she wouldn’t encounter too many people on the way, she set off in the direction of the Magicians’ Quarters.

As Dannyl heard sailors gathering in the common room at the end of the corridor, he smothered a groan. It was going to be another long night. Once again, Jano fetched Dannyl and the crew cheered as he joined them. A bottle appeared from somewhere, and they began taking mouthfuls of the potent-smelling Vindo liquor, siyo. As it reached him, Dannyl passed it straight to Jano, earning mocking disappointment from the sailors.

Once all had taken a drink, the sailors began to argue good-naturedly in their clipped native tongue. When they finally came to an agreement, they began to sing, urging Dannyl to join in. He had given in previously, but this time he fixed Jano with a stern stare.

“You promised to translate for me.”

The man grinned. “You not like song.”

“Let me decide that.”

Jano hesitated as he listened to the singing. “In Capia my lover has red, red hair... and breasts like sacks of tenn. In Tol-Gan my lover has strong, strong legs... and she wraps them both around me. In Kiko my lover has... ah,” Jano shrugged. “I do not know your word for that.”

“I can guess,” Dannyl replied, shaking his head sadly. “Enough translation. I don’t think I want to know what I’m singing.”

Jano laughed. “Now you tell me why you not drink siyo, yai?”

“Siyo smells strong. Potent.”

“Siyo is potent!” Jano said proudly.

“It’s not a good idea to get a magician very drunk,” Dannyl told him.

“Why not?”

Dannyl pursed his lips, trying to think how to explain it in terms the Vindo would understand.

“When you are drunk - very drunk - you say and do things badly, or without meaning to, yai?”

Jano shrugged and patted Dannyl’s shoulder. “No worry. We not tell anybody.”

Dannyl smiled and shook his head. “It’s not a good thing to do magic badly, or without meaning to. It can be dangerous.”

Jano frowned, then his eyes widened slightly. “We give you little bit of siyo, then.”

Dannyl laughed. “Very well.”

Waving his hands, Jano signalled for the sailors to pass the bottle to him. He wiped the mouth of it with his sleeve, then offered it to Dannyl.

Finding himself being watched intently by the others, Dannyl brought the bottle to his lips and sipped. A pleasantly nutty flavor filled his mouth, then a warmth seared his throat as he swallowed. He sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly, appreciating the spread of warmth through his body. The sailors cheered as he smiled and nodded approvingly.

Jano handed the bottle back to the others, then patted Dannyl on the shoulder. “Me glad I not magician. To like drink but not be able to.” He shook his head. “Very sad.”

Dannyl shrugged. “I like magic, too.”

The sailors broke into a new song and, without Dannyl asking, Jano translated. Dannyl found himself laughing at the absurd crudity of the lyrics.

“What does eyoma mean?”

“Sea leech,” Jano replied. “Bad, bad thing. I tell you story.”

At once the others quietened, all watching Jano and Dannyl with bright eyes.

“Sea leech is about size of arm from hand to bend.” Jano lifted his arm to demonstrate, pointing at his elbow. “It swims in small groups most of time, but when breeding many sea leech come together, and very, very dangerous. Climb side of ship thinking it is rock, and sailors must kill, kill, kill or eyoma stick on them and suck out blood.”

Dannyl looked at the other sailors, and they nodded eagerly. At once he began to suspect that this tale might be false or an exaggeration - a scary story that seamen told travellers. He narrowed his eyes at Jano, but the man was too engrossed in his tale to notice.

“Sea leech suck blood from all big fish in water. If ship sinks, men try to swim to shore, but if sea leech find them, they quick be tired and die. If men fall in water while breeding season, they drown from heaviness of many sea leeches.” He looked at Dannyl, his eyes wide. “Nasty way to die.”

Despite his skepticism, Dannyl felt a chill at the man’s description. Jano patted his arm again.

“You no worry. Sea leech live in warm water. Up north. Have little more siyo. Forget story.”

Dannyl accepted the bottle and sipped modestly. One of the sailors began to hum, and soon all were singing heartily. Dannyl let them bully him into singing along, but stopped as the door to the deck opened and the captain