“Any unused magic is let loose, and consumes the body.”
Rothen nodded. He set down the crockery and jars. “Shern lost Control of his magic.”
Sonea felt a chill run down her spine. “But he passed the Second Level.”
“He did, but not well or completely. His mind was never stable enough.” Rothen shook his head. “Such a state is rare, but it does sometimes occur. You see, when children are found to have the potential for magic we also test them for problems like this. Sometimes they simply don’t have the mental strength or stability to Control magic.”
“I see,” Sonea said, nodding. Rothen poured water from a jug into the pot, and added sumi leaves from one of the jars. Reaching for the other jar, Sonea mixed raka powder with water and heated the mix with a little magic.
“Unfortunately, some people develop mental instability when they grow older,” Rothen continued, “or when their magic is released. By then it is too late. Sooner or later they lose the Control they have been taught - usually in their first few years. Shern started to show signs of instability months ago. The Guild took him away from the city to a place we had built for such novices. We try to keep them calm and happy, and they are treated by Healers who are well versed in the problem. But no one has ever found a cure, and any binding we place on their powers doesn’t seem to hold for long.”
Sonea shivered. “When I first saw him I thought his presence was strange.”
Rothen frowned. “You sensed the instability that early? No one else did. I must tell this to—”
“No!” Sonea’s heart lurched. If Rothen told anyone that she had sensed something wrong with Shern, the other novices would have something else to blame her for. “Don’t. Please.”
Rothen regarded her speculatively. “Nobody is going to look on you badly for not saying anything. You couldn’t possibly have understood what you were sensing.”
She held his eyes. Rothen sighed. “All right. I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” He placed his hands around the pot. At once steam began to drift from the funnel. “How do you feel about all of this, Sonea?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know him.” She then told him what had happened when she walked into the classroom. “It’s as if it was all my fault.”
Rothen frowned as he poured himself a cup of the brewed sumi. “They probably snapped at you because you interrupted at a bad time. Don’t worry about what they said. By tomorrow they will have forgotten about it.”
“So what am I going to do today?” she wondered aloud.
Rothen paused to sip his drink, then smiled. “I thought we might make a few plans for Dorrien’s visit.”
The captain of the
The evening after they left, Dannyl had discovered the true reason for the captain’s enthusiasm.
“Most ships to Kiko Town go to Capia first,” the captain told them, over a generous meal. “This way much faster.”
“Why don’t they sail straight to Kiko Town?” Tayend asked.
“Bad men live on Upper Islands of Vin.” The captain scowled. “They rob ships, kill crew. Dangerous people.”
“Oh.” Tayend looked at Dannyl. “And we’re going to sail past these islands?”
“No danger this time.” The captain smiled at Dannyl. “We have magician on board. Show Guild flag. They no dare rob us!”
Remembering the conversation, Dannyl smiled to himself. He suspected that merchants occasionally risked this route anyway, protecting themselves by displaying the Guild flag even when they didn’t have a magician on board. The pirates might have worked this out, too, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if a Guild uniform, real or copied, was kept in a chest somewhere for the days when a flag wasn’t enough to keep pirates away.
He had been too relieved to be leaving Lonmar to care. The dispute with the Council of Elders had taken over a month of fussing and arguing to settle. While the duties he would attend to in Vin were minor, he wondered if they, too, would turn out to be more trying than they appeared.
As the distance from Lonmar lengthened and the crew had grown increasingly tense and watchful, Dannyl had realized the threat of pirates was real. From the overheard conversations that Tayend translated, Dannyl guessed that an encounter with pirates was not a risk, but a certainty. It was a little disconcerting to know that these men believed their lives depended on his presence on the ship.
He looked at Tayend, lying on the second narrow bed. The scholar was pale and thin. Bouts of seasickness had taken their toll on his health. Despite weakness and obvious discomfort, Tayend still refused to let Dannyl heal him.
So far, their journey had not been the pleasant adventure Tayend had hoped for. Dannyl knew the scholar had been relieved to leave Lonmar, too. When they reached Kiko Town, he decided, they would spend a week or two resting. The Vindo were known for their warmth and hospitality. Hopefully they would make up for the heat and strangeness of Lonmar, and Tayend would regain his strength and enthusiasm for travelling.
Two small windows offered a glimpse of the sea on either side. The sky was a dusky late-afternoon blue, clear of clouds. Moving closer, Dannyl saw the distant shadow of islands dotting the horizon on one side - and two large boats.
Hearing a yawn, he glanced at Tayend. The scholar was sitting up, stretching.
“How are you feeling?” Dannyl asked.
“Better. What’s it like outside?”
“Quite pleasant, from the looks.” The boats were smaller than the Anyi. They skimmed over the waves, coming closer rapidly. “I think we’ll have some company before dinner.”
Tayend braced himself against the cabin wall and made his way to Dannyl’s side. He peered through the window.
“Pirates?”
Hasty footsteps approached the door of the cabin, followed by several rapid knocks.
“I see them,” Dannyl called.
Tayend slapped him on the shoulder. “Time to be the hero, my magician friend.”
Dannyl gave Tayend a withering look before opening the door and stepping into the corridor beyond. The youngest of the sailors, a boy of perhaps fourteen years, beckoned wildly.
“Come out! Be quick!” he said, his eyes wide.
Following the boy, Dannyl made his way through the common room and stepped out onto the deck. Locating the captain at the stern of the ship, he made his way across ropes and up a short flight of stairs to join the man.
“Bad men,” the captain said, pointing.
The boats were less than two hundred paces away. Dannyl glanced up at the Anyi’s mast to see the Guild flag snapping in the wind. Looking around the deck, he saw that all of the crew, even the boy, carried knives or short, crudely made swords. A few held bows, all loaded and already aimed at the approaching ships.
Tayend made a small noise of disgust. “The crew doesn’t seem to have much confidence in you,” he murmured.
“They’re not taking any chances,” Dannyl replied. “Would you?”
“You’re our hero and protector. I know you’ll save us.”
“Must you keep saying that?”
Tayend chuckled. “I only want you to feel needed and appreciated.”
The lead boat did not slow as it neared the Anyi. Concerned that the pirates intended to ram the ship, Dannyl moved to the railing, ready to turn the boat’s bow. It swung about at the last moment, sails suddenly turning so that the boat was sailing alongside the Anyi.
Stocky, muscular men crowded these smaller vessels. Large shields were held up toward the ship, ready for a rain of missiles. Between them, Dannyl caught the glint of sunlight on blades. Two men held coiled ropes, weighted at one end with grappling hooks.
The men he could see were darker and taller than the average Vindo, suggesting a mix of Vindo and Lonmar
