was cut. Barran says the cuts on the man’s shoulders weren’t enough to kill anybody, and there was no sign of poison. I think he has decided that the man passed out. I’d be half dead with fright, myself... are you all right, Lorlen?”
Lorlen forced his rigid facial muscles into a smile. “Yes,” he lied. “I just can’t believe I haven’t heard about this yet. Did the woman give a description of the murderer?”
“Nothing useful. She said it was difficult to see because it was dark and she was watching through a keyhole, but that the man had dark hair and was dressed in shabby clothes.”
Lorlen drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And chanting, you said. How strange.”
Derril grunted in agreement. “Until Barran joined the Guard, I had no idea the world held such crooked and disturbed people. The things some people do!”
Thinking of Akkarin, Lorlen nodded. “I’d like to know more about this. Will you tell me if you hear anything?”
Derril grinned. “I’ve caught your interest, haven’t I? Of course I will.”
6
An Unexpected Proposal
Rothen looked up in surprise as Sonea entered the room.
“Back already?” His eyes slid to her robes. “Oh. What happened?”
“Regin.”
“Again?”
“All the time.” Sonea dropped her book of notepaper on the table. It made a squelching noise and a small puddle of water began to form around it. Opening it, she found that all her notes were saturated, the ink running and mixing with the water. She groaned as she realized she would have to write them all out again. Turning away, she walked into her bedroom to change.
At the entrance to the University, Kano had leapt out and thrown a handful of food in her face. She had approached the fountain in the center of the courtyard, planning to wash it off, but as she leaned over the pool the water had surged up over her, drenching her to the skin.
Sighing, she opened her clothes cupboard and pulled out an old shirt and a pair of trousers and changed into them. Picking up the saturated robes, she returned to the guestroom.
“Lord Elben said something interesting yesterday.”
Rothen frowned. “Oh?”
“He said that I’m several months ahead of the class - almost as good as the winter intake of novices are.”
He smiled. “You did have months of practice before you started.” Then his smile faded as he saw her clothes. “You must wear your robes all the time, Sonea. You can’t go to class like that.”
“I know, but I don’t have any clean ones left. Tania will bring some back tonight.” She held out the dripping robes. “Unless you could dry these for me?”
“You should be able to do that yourself by now.”
“I can, but I’m not supposed to do any magic unless—”
“—instructed by a magician,” Rothen finished. He chuckled. “That rule is a flexible one, Sonea. Generally it’s understood that, if a teacher instructs you to practice what he has taught you, you’re free to do it outside of class unless he says otherwise.”
She grinned, then looked down at the robes. Steam began to mist from the material as she sent heat flowing through it. When the robes were dry, she set them aside and helped herself to a leftover sweet cake from the morning meal.
“You said once that an exceptional novice can be moved to a higher class. What would it take for me to do that?”
Rothen’s eyebrows rose. “A lot of work. You may be well practiced at using magic, but your knowledge and understanding of it would need much improvement.”
“So is it possible?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “If we work every night and Freeday you might pass the half-year tests in a month or so, but the hard work wouldn’t stop there. Once you had advanced, you would need to catch up with the winter novices. If you fail the First Year tests, you’ll drop back down to the summer class again. That means you’d have to work very hard for two or three months.”
“I understand.” Sonea bit her lip. “I want to try it.”
Rothen considered her closely, then moved to the chairs and sat down. “So you’ve changed your mind, then.”
Sonea frowned, puzzled. “Changed my mind?”
“You wanted to wait until the others had caught up.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Forget them. They’re not worth it. Do you have the time to teach me? I don’t want to take you away from your classes.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll do my preparation work while you study.” Rothen leaned forward. “I know you’re doing this to get away from Regin. I have to point out that the next class mightn’t be any better.”
Sonea nodded. She dropped into a chair beside him and began to carefully separate her notes. “I’ve thought about that. I don’t expect them to like me, just to leave me alone. I’ve watched them when I could, and there doesn’t seem to be someone like Regin among them. They have no single novice who rules them.” She shrugged. “I can live with being ignored.”
Rothen nodded. “You’ve thought about this carefully, I see. Very well. We’ll do it.”
A new feeling of hope swept over Sonea. This was a second chance. She grinned at him. “Thank you, Rothen!”
His shoulders lifted. “I am your guardian, after all. Giving you special treatment is my role.”
Holding up the wet sheets of paper, she started drying them. The sheets curled as they dried, the ink setting the letters into grotesque smudges. She sighed again at the thought of rewriting them.
“Although Warrior Skills is not my area of expertise,” Rothen said, “I think you’ll find it useful to know how to raise and hold a basic shield. That ought to protect you from pranks like this.”
“Whatever you say,” Sonea replied.
“And since you’ve already missed the start of class, you may as well stay here and learn it now. I’ll tell your teacher... well, I’ll think of a good excuse.”
Surprised and pleased, Sonea set the dried notes aside. Rothen rose and pushed the table out of the way.
“Stand up.”
Sonea obeyed.
“Now, you know that everyone, magicians and non-magicians, has a natural boundary protecting the area contained by our body. No other magician can influence anything within that area without first exhausting us. Otherwise a magician could kill another simply by reaching inside and crushing the heart.”
Sonea nodded. “The skin is the boundary. The barrier. Healing gets past it, but only by skin to skin contact.”
“Yes. Now, so far you’ve extended your influence like an arm, reaching out to, say, light a candle or lift a ball. A shield is like extending all of your skin outward, like inflating a bubble around yourself. Watch, and I’ll make a shield that is visible.”
Rothen’s gaze became distracted. His skin began to glow, then it was as if a layer of it pushed outward, smoothing and losing the contours of the body. It expanded and formed a translucent globe of light around him, then fell back inward and disappeared.
“That was a shield of light only,” he said. “It would not have repelled anything. But it’s useful to start with because it’s visible. Now, I want you to make the same sort of shield, but just around your hand.”
