pretend friendship when he knew what Akkarin was capable of?
Despite this knowledge, Sonea had agreed to join the Guild. This amazed Rothen at first, until she had pointed out that if she left with her powers blocked - as the law required for magicians who chose not to join the Guild - she would have been a tempting source of power for the High Lord. Strong in magic, but unable to use it to defend herself. Rothen shuddered. At least, in the Guild, it would be noticed if she died under strange circumstances.
Even so, it had been a brave decision, knowing what lay at the heart of the Guild. Looking at her, standing among the sons and daughters of some of the richest families in the Allied Lands, he felt both pride and affection. In the last six months he had come to think of her more as a daughter than a student.
“Do any magicians wish to claim guardianship of any of these entrants?”
Rothen jumped as he realized that his turn to speak had come. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything another voice spoke the ritual words.
“I have made a selection, Director.”
The voice came from the other side of the hall. All the entrants turned to see who had risen from their seat.
“Lord Yarrin,” Jerrik acknowledged. “Which entrant do you wish to claim guardianship of?”
“Gennyl, of the family Randa and the House of Saril, and the Greater Clan of Alaraya.”
A faint murmur of voices rose in the ranks of the magicians. Looking down, Rothen saw that the boy’s father, Lord Tayk, was sitting forward in his chair.
Jerrik waited until the voices subsided, then tilted his head expectantly toward Rothen.
“Do any other magicians wish to claim guardianship of one of these entrants?”
Rothen rose. “I have made a selection, Director.”
Sonea looked up, her mouth tight as she tried not to smile.
“Lord Rothen,” Jerrik replied, “which entrant do you wish to claim guardianship of?”
“I wish to claim guardianship of Sonea.”
No murmuring followed his choice, and Jerrik merely nodded in acknowledgment. Rothen returned to his seat.
“That’s it,” Dannyl whispered. “Your last chance has gone. There’ll be no getting out of it now. She’s got you well and truly wrapped around her finger for the next five years.”
“Shush,” Rothen replied.
“Do any other magicians wish to claim guardianship of one of these entrants?” Jerrik repeated.
“I have made a selection, Director.”
The voice came from Rothen’s left, and was followed by the sound of chairs creaking as people turned or shifted in their seats. The hall echoed with excited chatter as Lord Garrel rose.
“Lord Garrel,” there was surprise in Jerrik’s voice, “which entrant do you wish to claim guardianship of?”
“Regin, of the family Winar and the House of Paren.”
The chatter changed to a collective sigh of understanding. Looking down, Rothen saw that the boy at the end of the line wore a grin. The voices and creaking of chairs continued for several minutes until Jerrik raised his arms for silence.
“I’d keep an eye on those two novices and their guardians,” Dannyl murmured. “Nobody usually selects a novice in their First Year. They’re probably doing it simply to prevent Sonea having a higher status than the rest of her classmates.”
“Or, I’ve started a trend,” Rothen mused. “And Garrel may have already seen potential in his nephew. That
“Are there any other guardianship claims?” Jerrik called. Silence followed, and he dropped his arms. “Would all magicians intending to claim guardianship come to the front.”
Rothen rose and made his way to the end of the seats, then down the stairs. Joining Lord Garrel and Lord Yarrin, he waited beside Director Jerrik as a young novice, flushed with excitement at having a role in the ceremony, came forward carrying a stack of brown-red cloth. The magicians each selected a bundle.
“Would Gennyl please come forward,” Jerrik ordered.
One of the Lonmar boys hurried forward and bowed. His eyes were wide as he faced Lord Jerrik, and as he spoke the Novices’ Vow his voice trembled. Lord Yarrin handed the boy his robes, and guardian and novice stepped aside. Lord Jerrik turned toward the entrants again.
“Would Sonea please come forward.”
She walked stiffly toward Jerrik. Though her face was pale, she bowed gracefully and spoke the vow in a clear, unwavering voice. Rothen stepped forward and handed her the bundle of robes.
“I hereby take guardianship of you, Sonea. Your learning is my concern and task until you graduate from the university.”
“I will obey you, Lord Rothen.”
“May you both benefit from this arrangement,” Jerrik finished.
As they moved aside to stand next to Lord Yarrin and Gennyl, Jerrik called the still smiling youth from the end of the line.
“Would Regin please come forward.”
The boy strode confidently to Jerrik, but his bow was shallow and hurried. As the ritual phrases were repeated, Rothen looked down at Sonea, wondering what she was thinking. She was a member of the Guild now, and that was no small thing.
She looked at the boy to her right, and Rothen followed her gaze. Gennyl stood with his back straight and his face flushed. He’s just about bursting with pride, Rothen mused. To have a guardian, especially at this point, was proof that an entrant was exceptionally gifted.
Few would believe this about Sonea, however. He suspected that most magicians assumed he had chosen to be her guardian simply to remind all that he had been instrumental in finding her. They would not have believed him if he told them of her strength and talent. But they would find out, and knowing it gave him some satisfaction.
After Regin and Lord Garrel had spoken the ritual words, they moved to Rothen’s left. The boy kept glancing at Sonea, his expression calculating. She either did not notice, or was ignoring him. Instead, she watched intently as Jerrik called the rest of the entrants forward to speak the vow. As each accepted their robes, they formed a line next to the guardians and their novices.
When the last of the entrants had joined the line, Lord Jerrik turned to regard them.
“You are now novices of the Magicians’ Guild,” he announced. “May the coming years be prosperous for all of you.”
As one, the novices bowed. Lord Jerrik nodded and moved to one side.
“I extend a welcome to our new novices and wish them many years of success.” Sonea jumped as Lorlen’s voice rang out from behind her. “I now declare this Acceptance Ceremony concluded.”
The Guildhall began to echo with the sound of voices. The rows of robed men and women stirred as if caught by a strong wind. They rose and began to descend to the floor, filling the hall with the clatter of footsteps. As the new novices realized the formalities were over, they moved in all directions. Some rushed to their parents, others examined the bundle in their hands or gazed around at the sudden activity. At the end of the Guildhall the great doors began to open slowly.
Sonea turned to look up at Rothen. “That’s it, then. I’m a novice.”
He smiled. “Glad it’s all over?”
She shrugged. “I get the feeling it’s only just begun.” Her eyes flickered over his shoulder. “Here’s your shadow.”
Rothen turned to find Dannyl striding toward him.
“Welcome to the Guild, Sonea.”
“Thank you,
Dannyl laughed. “Not yet, Sonea. Not yet.”
Sensing someone new at his side, Rothen turned to find the University Director standing next to him.
“Lord Rothen,” Jerrik said, giving Sonea a tired smile as she bowed.
“Yes?” Rothen replied.
