The Novice

stepped inside.

As the captain descended, the crew sang a little more quietly, but did not stop. Numo nodded to Dannyl. “I have something to give you, my lord.”

He gestured for Dannyl to follow him, then started down the corridor toward his room. Rising, Dannyl braced himself against the swaying of the boat with a hand on either wall. As he reached Numo’s door he found himself entering a room that was, contrary to Jano’s claim, at least four times the size of Dannyl’s.

Charts were spread across a table in the center of the room. Numo had opened a small cupboard and was holding a box. Drawing a key out from under his shirt, he opened the lid and took out a folded piece of paper.

“Asked to give this to you before we arrive in Capia.”

Numo handed Dannyl the paper, then gestured to a chair. Sitting down, Dannyl examined the seal. It was stamped with the Guild symbol, and the paper was of the finest quality.

Breaking the seal, he unfolded the paper and instantly recognized Administrator Lorlen’s handwriting.

To Second Guild Ambassador to Elyne, Dannyl, of family Vorin, House Tellen.

You must forgive me for arranging for the delivery of this letter to take place after your journey had begun. I have a task I wish you to complete for me, in addition to your duties as Ambassador. This task must remain confidential, at least for now, and this method of delivery is a small precaution to that effect.

As you know, High Lord Akkarin left Kyralia over ten years ago to gather knowledge of ancient magic, a quest that was not completed. Your task is to retrace his steps, to revisit all the places he visited and find out who helped him in his search as well as to collect information on the subject.

Please forward all information to me by courier. Do not communicate with me directly. I look forward to hearing from you.

With thanks, Administrator Lorlen.

Dannyl read the letter several times, then folded it again. What was Lorlen up to? Retracing Akkarin’s journey? Communication only by courier?

He opened the letter once more and scanned it quickly. Lorlen might be asking for secrecy simply because he didn’t want it known that he was taking advantage of Dannyl’s ambassadorial position to deal with a private matter.

That private matter, however, was Akkarin’s quest. Did the High Lord know that Lorlen was reviving the search for ancient knowledge?

He considered the possible answers to that question. If Akkarin knew, then presumably he approved. If he didn’t know? Dannyl smiled wryly. Perhaps there was something akin to a sea leech in Akkarin’s stories, and Lorlen wanted to know if it was true.

Or perhaps Lorlen wanted to succeed where his friend had failed. The pair had competed with each other as novices. Lorlen obviously could not resume the search himself, so he had recruited another magician to act on his behalf. Dannyl smiled. And he has chosen me.

Folding the letter again, he rose and braced himself against the rocking of the ship. No doubt Lorlen would reveal his reasons for secrecy eventually. In the meantime, Dannyl knew he would enjoy having permission to snoop into someone’s past, particularly someone as mysterious as the High Lord.

Nodding to Numo, he left the room, stowed the letter among his belongings, and returned to Jano and the singing crew.

4 Attending to Duty

As Sonea wandered slowly down the corridor of the University, she felt a wry relief. Tomorrow was Freeday, which meant she had no lessons to attend, and for a whole day she would be free of Regin and the other novices.

She was surprised at how tired she felt, considering how little she’d done in the past week. For most of the lessons she read books or watched the novices coming and going from their Control lessons. Not much had happened, yet she felt as though weeks - no, months - had passed.

Issle no longer acknowledged Sonea’s presence at all, and, while this was better than open hostility, it seemed all of the novices had decided this was the best way to treat her, too. None of them would speak to her, even if she asked a sensible question about their lessons.

She considered each of the novices. Elayk was everything she had been told to expect of a typical Lonmar male. Brought up in a world where women were hidden away, living a life of luxury but little freedom, he was unused to talking to them, and treated Bina and Issle with the same cold indifference. Faren, the Thief who had hidden her from the Guild last year, had been nothing like this, but then Faren was definitely not a typical Lonmar!

While Gennyl’s father was Lonmar, his mother was Kyralian and he appeared to be comfortable around Bina and Issle. He ignored Sonea, but a few times she had noticed him watching her with narrowed eyes.

Shern rarely spoke to any of the other novices, spending most of his time staring into the distance. Sonea was still conscious of his strange magical presence, but it no longer pulsed erratically.

Bina was quiet, and Sonea suspected the girl was simply too shy and awkward to join in any conversations. When Sonea had tried to approach her, the girl had recoiled, saying: “I’m not allowed to talk to you.” Remembering the comments the girl’s mother had made before the Acceptance Ceremony, Sonea was not surprised.

Kano, Alend and Vallon behaved like boys half their age, finding the most childish things amusing and boasting about their possessions and luck with girls. Having heard this sort of banter among the boys of Harrin’s gang, Sonea knew the stories about the latter had to be invented. What kept her amused was that the boys she had known would have had enough experience by this age to have stopped bragging about it years ago.

Regin dominated all social activity. Sonea noted how he controlled the others with compliments, jokes, and an authoritative-sounding comment here and there; how they would all nod whenever he expressed an opinion. This had been amusing until he had started making snide comments about Sonea’s past at every opportunity. Even Alend, who had shown some sympathy for Sonea at first, laughed at these jibes. And after she had made her failed attempt to engage Bina in conversation, Regin had been at the girl’s side a moment later, all charm and friendliness.

“Sonea!”

The breathless voice came from behind her. She turned to find Alend hurrying toward her.

“Yes?”

“It’s your turn tonight,” he panted.

“My turn?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Kitchen duty.” He stared at her. “Didn’t they tell you?”

“No...”

He grimaced. “Of course. Regin has the roster. We all have to do kitchen duty one night a week. It’s your turn.”

“Oh.”

“You’d better hurry,” he warned. “You don’t want to be late.”

“Thanks,” Sonea offered. He shrugged and strode away.

Kitchen duty. Sonea sighed. It had been stiflingly hot all day, and she had been looking forward to a cool bath before the evening meal. Chores given to novices weren’t likely to be distasteful or time-consuming, however, so she might still have time.

Hurrying down the spiral stairs to the ground floor, she let the smell of cooking guide her to the Foodhall. Inside, the room was busy and seats were filling quickly as more novices arrived. She followed one of the tray- carrying servants into the kitchen and found herself in a large room lined with long benches. Steam curled up from boiling tubs, meat sizzled on grills, and the air was filled with the clatter of metal on metal. Servants hurried about, calling to each other over the noise.

Sonea stopped inside the door, overwhelmed by the chaos and the aromas. A young woman looked up from