The Novice

despite the disapproval Rothen knew must show in his expression. The boy’s mouth curled upward slightly before he finally turned away.

Snorting softly, Rothen continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. Regin had only harassed Sonea once or twice since she had moved to her new room, and not at all since she had changed classes. He had hoped the boy was losing interest in her. But as Rothen considered the confidence and malevolence in the boy’s gaze he felt a growing certainty that his hopes were in vain.

—Rothen!

Recognizing the sender immediately, he froze in mid-step and almost tripped over.

—Dorrien! he replied.

—I have good news, Father. Lady Vinara has decided it’s time I reported to her again. I will be visiting the Guild soon - probably in a month or so.

Behind Dorrien’s sending were complex feelings. Rothen knew that travelling to Imardin for the sake of formality irked his son. Dorrien could not help worrying how the village he lived in would cope without a Healer for several weeks. There was also a reassuring eagerness in Dorrien’s sending. They hadn’t seen each other in over two years.

But it wasn’t just that. Every time Rothen had communicated with his son lately he had detected a reluctant curiosity. Dorrien wanted to meet Sonea.

—That is good news. Rothen smiled and continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. It’s been too long since you visited me. I’ve been wishing there was some way I could order you home.

—Father! Dorrien’s sending was tinged with half-serious suspicion. You didn’t arrange this, did you?

—No. Rothen chuckled. But I might keep it in mind for the future. I shall have your old room readied for you.

—I’ll be staying for two weeks, so be sure to stock up on that good wine from the Lake District of Elyne. I’m heartily tired of the local bol.

—Done. And bring some raka with you. I’ve heard that the raka from the Eastern District is the best. Sonea is very fond of it.

—It is the best, Dorrien said proudly. All right, raka in exchange for wine. I’ll contact you again when I leave. I must go now.

—Take care, my son.

Rothen felt the familiar presence fade from his mind. He smiled as he reached the Magicians’ Quarters. Dorrien may be curious to meet Sonea, but what would she make of him? Chuckling, he started up the stairs to his room.

“I feel better tonight,” Tayend told the ceiling of his cabin. “I told you I’d get used to it eventually.”

Looking over the narrow passage to where his friend lay, Dannyl smiled. Tayend had dozed most of the day. It had been stiflingly hot, and the evening’s humidity made sleep impossible.

“You didn’t have to suffer so long. Surely a day of seasickness would have been enough adventure for you.”

Tayend glanced at Dannyl, his expression shameful. “Yes I did.”

“You’re afraid of being Healed, aren’t you?”

The scholar gave a quick nod, more like a shiver.

“I’ve never encountered anyone who was, but I’ve heard of it happening before.” Dannyl frowned. “Can I ask why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Dannyl nodded. Rising, he stretched as best he could. It seemed that all merchant ships had cramped living spaces - which was probably due to the small stature of their makers. Most ships that roamed the seas around the Allied Lands were built and sailed by the Vindo.

It had taken two weeks to sail to Capia, and he had been heartily thankful to greet dry land again when he arrived. Lonmar’s capital city, Jebem, was four weeks’ journey from Capia, and Dannyl was already tired of his surroundings. To make things worse, there had been little wind in the last few days and the captain had informed him that the ship would be delayed as a result.

“I’m going up for some air.”

Tayend grunted a reply. Leaving the scholar, Dannyl started down the passage and entered the common room. Unlike the previous crew, this one kept quiet at night. They sat in pairs or on their own, some huddled in the bag-like beds they used. Walking past, Dannyl climbed the stairs to the door and pushed through to the deck.

Heavy air greeted him. Though it was autumn in Kyralia, the weather had grown warmer as they travelled north. Walking along the deck, Dannyl nodded at the sailors on watch. They barely bothered to respond, some ignoring him completely.

He missed the company of Jano. None of these sailors were at all interested in trying out their conversational or singing skills on him. He even missed the occasional mouthful of potent siyo.

Lanterns kept the ship brightly lit. At night, from time to time, a sailor hung one from a pole and leaned out over the railing to inspect the hull of the ship. Once, Dannyl had asked what the man was looking for, but by the blank look he received he guessed the sailor was not familiar with his language.

All was still tonight, and Dannyl was undisturbed as he leaned on the stern railing, watching the water ripple in the light. It was easy, at night, to imagine the shadow of a wave was a creature’s back sliding through the water. Occasionally over the last two weeks he had glimpsed fish leaping through the waves. A few days ago he had been exhilarated to see anyi swimming with the bow wave, some as large as a human. The spiny creatures had lifted their whiskered noses and uttered strange, haunting cries.

Turning away, he started along the rail, then stopped as he saw that several short lengths of thick black rope were strewn across his path. He frowned, thinking how easily he could have tripped.

Then one of the ropes moved.

Taking a step back, he stared at the thing. It was too smooth to be rope. And why would a rope be cut into short pieces, anyway? Each length of blackness glimmered slimily in the lantern light.

One turned and started creeping toward him.

“Eyoma!”

The warning cry echoed in the night, and was repeated all around. Dannyl looked around at the sailors in disbelief. “I thought they were a joke,” he muttered as he backed away from the creatures. “They were supposed to be a joke.”

“Eyoma!” A sailor hurried toward him, a large pan in one hand, a paddle in the other. “Sea leech. You be away from rail!”

Turning around, Dannyl realized that more of the creatures were behind him. They were climbing onto the deck from all sides. He started toward the middle of the ship, then dodged as one of them made a small leap toward him. Another raised its front half up as if sniffing the air, but he could see no nose - just a pale, round mouth ringed by sharp-looking teeth.

Stepping past him, the sailor swung the pan he was carrying. Liquid spilled out, splashing over the creatures and the deck. A familiar, nutty odor reached Dannyl’s nostrils, and he looked at the sailor questioningly.

“Siyo?”

The creatures seemed as appalled by their dousing as Dannyl would have been. As they began to writhe, the sailor pushed them over the edge of the ship with the paddle. Small splashes followed.

Two more sailors joined the first. They took it in turns to refill their pans from an open barrel lashed to the ship, splash the leeches and sweep them from the deck. It was done with such matter-of-fact efficiency that Dannyl began to relax. When one of the crew accidentally doused another with the liquor, he choked back a laugh.

But the black creatures kept coming, flowing over the deck in greater numbers until it seemed like the night was eating away at the edge of the ship. One of the sailors swore and glanced down. A leech had attached itself to his ankle. It wrapped its body about the sailor’s leg with alarming speed. Still swearing, he splashed it with siyo, then, as it let go and began to writhe, he kicked it off the deck.

Sobering, Dannyl moved forward, determined to help. As one of the sailors stepped forward to push the