“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know if I put it there.”
He frowned. “How can you not know? You either put it there, or you didn’t.”
She spread her hands. “It’s possible it was in with my notes when I put them away last night.”
Jerrik shook his head in exasperation, then drew in a deep breath.
“Did you steal Narron’s pen?”
Sonea frowned. “Not deliberately.”
Having had similar conversations with Sonea himself, Rothen almost smiled. This was no time for wordplay, however. “So you’re saying you might have stolen it accidentally?” he asked.
“How can you steal something accidentally?” Jerrik exclaimed. “Stealing is a deliberate act.”
Vorel gave a snort of disgust. “Sonea, if you don’t deny it, we can only assume you’re guilty.”
She looked up at the teacher, and her eyes suddenly narrowed. “What does it matter? You’ve already made up your minds. Nothing I say will make any difference.”
The room was silent for several heartbeats, then, as Rothen saw Vorel’s face begin to color, he stepped forward and placed a hand on Sonea’s shoulder.
“Wait for me outside, Sonea.”
She walked out of the room and closed the door.
“What am I to make of that?” Jerrik exclaimed. “If she is innocent, why wind us about with these evasive answers?”
Rothen looked pointedly at the novice, Narron. Jerrik followed his gaze, then nodded. “You may return to class, Narron.”
The boy stood. “May I have my pen back, Director?”
“Certainly.” Jerrik nodded to Vorel. Seeing the expensive-looking gold pen that the teacher handed over, Rothen winced. It probably had been a gift to mark the boy’s acceptance into the Guild.
When Narron had left the room, Jerrik looked at Rothen expectantly. “You were saying, Lord Rothen?”
Rothen clasped his hands behind his back. “Are you aware of the harassment Sonea has been receiving from other novices?”
Jerrik nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Have you identified the leader of these troublemakers?”
The University Director’s mouth twitched. “Are you saying this leader arranged this apparent theft?”
“I’m only suggesting you consider the possibility.”
“You would need proof. As it is, all we have is a missing pen found among Sonea’s belongings. She refuses to deny taking it, and has not accused Regin of planting it there. What am I to believe?”
Rothen nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m sure Sonea would like to have evidence to the contrary, but if she isn’t accusing anyone, then she probably hasn’t. In this situation, is there any point in protesting her innocence?”
“That doesn’t prove she didn’t do it,” Vorel said.
“No, but I was asked to explain her behavior, not prove that she is innocent. I can only vouch for her character. I don’t believe she did this.”
Vorel made a small noise, but remained silent. Jerrik regarded them both, then waved dismissively. “I will consider your words. Thank you. You may go.”
Sonea was leaning against the wall outside, staring at her boots sullenly. Vorel narrowed his eyes at her, but strode past without speaking. Moving to her side, Rothen leaned on the wall and sighed.
“It doesn’t look good.”
“I know.” Her tone was resigned.
“You said nothing of Regin?”
“How can I?” She looked up and met his gaze. “I can’t accuse him, even if I did have proof.”
“Why n—” The answer came to him in a flash. Guild rules. An accuser must submit to a truth-read. She couldn’t risk one. Secrets entrusted to them might be revealed before their time. Disturbed, frustrated, he frowned at the floor in silence.
“Do you believe them?”
He looked up. “Of course not.”
“Not even the slightest doubt?”
“Not the slightest.”
“Perhaps you should,” she said bitterly. “Everyone else was waiting for it to happen. It doesn’t matter what I say or do. It doesn’t make a difference. They know I’ve done it before, so they think I’ll do it again whether I have a reason to or not.”
“Sonea,” he said softly. “What you say and do does make a difference. You know that. Just because you stole out of need a long time ago, it doesn’t mean you’ll do so now. If you had some kind of irresistible stealing habit, we’d have seen evidence of it before now. You should deny it, clearly and forcefully, even if you think no one will believe you.”
She nodded, though he wasn’t sure she was convinced. They both looked up as the midbreak gong rang out. Rothen pushed himself away from the wall.
“Come and eat with me. We haven’t had midbreak meal together in weeks.”
She smiled grimly. “I don’t think I’ll be welcome in the Foodhall for a while.”
14
Bad News
One by one the novices filed past Lord Elben’s table, each picking up a glass jar. Knowing that she would receive hostile stares if she joined them, Sonea waited. To her dismay, Regin was the last to approach the table. Looking at her, he hesitated, then stepped forward and picked up the last two jars. Lord Elben frowned as Regin examined both, but as the teacher’s mouth opened, Regin thrust one of the jars at Sonea.
“Here.”
She reached out to take it, but just before her fingers touched the jar it dropped from his hand, struck the floor and shattered.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Regin exclaimed. He backed away from the glass fragments. “So clumsy of me.”
Lord Elben looked down his long nose at Regin, then Sonea. “Regin, find a servant to clean this up. Sonea, you’ll have to observe this lesson.”
Sonea returned to her seat, unsurprised. The “theft” of Narron’s pen had changed more than just the novices’ opinion of her. Before the “theft,” Elben would have told Regin to give her the last jar, or sent him off to get a new one.
The “theft” had only confirmed what the novices and teachers already suspected. Her official punishment had been to spend an hour shelving books in the Novices’ Library every evening, which had proven to be quite enjoyable - when Regin wasn’t hanging about making the task difficult. The punishment had ended last Fourday, but both novices and teachers still treated her with suspicion and contempt.
Most of the time, she was ignored in class. But when she came too close to another novice, or dared to speak to one, she received cold stares. She hadn’t tried to rejoin them in the Foodhall. Instead she returned to her old habit of skipping the midbreak meal or eating with Rothen.
Not everything had changed for the worse, however. Now that she knew her powers were so much stronger than the other novices’, she had discovered a new confidence. She didn’t need to conserve her strength for the class activities, as the novices had been advised to do, so she kept a strong shield up to protect herself from missiles, shoves or other pranks. This meant she could easily push past Regin and his followers if they surrounded her in the corridors.
Her room door was protected by a shield of its own, as was her window and her box. She was using magic all day and night, yet she never felt tired or drained. Not even after a particularly strenuous Warrior Skills
