Sonea smiled as she thought of Dannyl’s experiments with transferring mind images to paper - abandoned now that he was a Guild Ambassador in Elyne. Dorrien probably wouldn’t approve of Dannyl’s “hobby.”
“There are too many Alchemists and not enough Healers,” Dorrien continued. “The Healers restrict their time to those with money and status because they don’t have time to treat everyone. We all learn basic Healing. There’s no reason why Alchemists and Warriors couldn’t spend some of their time assisting Healers. Then we could help more people.
“I treat anyone who needs my help: herders, crafters, farmers, passing travellers. There’s no good reason why Healers here shouldn’t do the same. The crafters here pay taxes, and part of that tax goes toward maintaining the Guild. They should have access to the service that their money sustains.”
His voice had grown stronger. Obviously this was something he believed in passionately.
“And the people in the slums?” she prompted.
He checked his stride and turned to look at her. “Yes,” he said, walking at a slower pace. “Though I think we would have to be careful how we went about it.”
She frowned. “Oh?”
“The slums are part of a much bigger problem, and we could easily waste a lot of time and effort. They’re like, if you’ll forgive me saying so, boils on the skin of the city, pointing to deeper troubles in the body. The boils won’t go away until the deeper problems are addressed.”
“Deeper problems?”
“Well,” Dorrien glanced at her again, “if I stick to my analogy I’d say that the city has grown into a fat, sweet-sucking old Warrior. He’s either unaware or uncaring that his greedy habits are destroying the systems of his body or that his paunch is making him ugly. He is already far from fit, but as he doesn’t have any more enemies to worry about, he’s happy to sit back and indulge himself.”
Sonea stared at him, impressed. What he was saying, she realized, was that the King and the Houses were greedy and lazy, and the cost of this was felt by the rest of the city’s citizens - like the dwells. He looked at her again, uncertainty in his eyes.
“That is,” he added quickly, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t do anything because it’s too big a problem. We should be doing something.”
“Like what?”
He smiled. “Ah, but I don’t want to spoil our walk by ranting and raving. Here, we’ve reached the road.”
Stepping onto the road, Dorrien led her past the houses of the older, retired Guild residents. As they reached the end of the road he continued into the forest, his boots crunching through the snow. Sonea followed behind, walking in his footsteps.
Soon the ground became uneven. Her heavy box made negotiating the forest difficult, so she left it sitting on a log, protected by a barrier of magic. The steep slope soon had her breathing hard. Eventually Dorrien stopped and placed his hand on the trunk of an enormous tree.
“The first marker. Remember this tree, Sonea. Walk in the same direction that the road leads until you reach it, then turn east and climb until you find the wall.”
“The Outer Wall?”
He nodded. Sonea suppressed a groan. The Outer Wall had to be a long way into the forest. They tramped uphill through the snow for several minutes, until Sonea was gasping for breath.
“Stop!” she cried when it seemed her legs couldn’t carry her any farther.
Dorrien turned and grinned, and she was gratified to see he was breathing hard. He gestured at a pile of snow-covered rocks ahead.
“The wall.”
Sonea stared at the snow, then realized that the rocks underneath were actually huge slabs of stone, scattered through the forest. This rubble was all that was left of the Outer Wall.
“Now,” Dorrien said between breaths. “We head north again.”
Before she could protest he was striding away. No longer climbing uphill, it was easier walking and she gradually caught her breath. Dorrien reached an outcrop of rocks, clambered over them and disappeared. Sonea followed his scrapings in the snow and found herself standing inside a small circle of boulders. From the profusion of trees she could see that this place would be well hidden when their leaves grew back. To one side water rippled down the rocks and gathered in an ice-edged pool before spilling away over more rocks.
Dorrien stood several paces away, smiling.
“This is it. The spring. The source of the Guild’s water.”
Walking to his side, she saw water pouring out of a crack in the rocks.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, looking up at Dorrien. “It must be lovely in summer.”
“Don’t wait for summer.” Dorrien’s eyes shone. “It’s just as wonderful in spring. I used to start visiting as soon as the snow began to thaw.”
Sonea tried to picture Dorrien as a boy, scrambling up the slope and sitting here on his own. The boy who became a novice of the Guild, then a Healer. She would come back, she decided. It would be a place to go when she needed some time alone, away from Regin and the other novices. Perhaps that was what Dorrien had intended all along.
“What are you thinking, little Sonea?”
“I want to thank you.”
His eyebrows rose. “Thank me?”
“For baiting Regin. For taking me up on the roof of the University.” She chuckled. “For teaching me to levitate.”
“Ah,” he waved a hand dismissively. “That was easy.”
“And for making me enjoy myself again. I think I almost believed that fun wasn’t part of being a magician.” She smiled crookedly. “I know you have to go back, but I wish you could stay longer.”
His expression grew serious. “I’ll miss you, too, little Sonea.” He took a step closer, then opened his mouth as if to say something else, but no words came. Putting a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up, bent closer and pressed his lips to her mouth.
Surprised, Sonea pulled away a little. He was very close, his eyes bright and questioning. Suddenly her face was too warm, and her heart was pounding very fast. She was smiling foolishly and, though she tried, she couldn’t stop. Dorrien laughed quietly, then bent to kiss her again.
This time his lips lingered and she was conscious of their softness and warmth. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but she wasn’t cold. When he moved away she swayed forward a little, prolonging the touch.
He stepped backward, his smile fading. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me.”
She swallowed. Found her voice. “Not fair?”
He looked down at his feet, his expression serious. “Because I’m going away. Because you might want or need someone else between now and who-knows-when and turn them away because of me.”
Sonea laughed, a little bitterly. “I doubt it.”
Dorrien’s gaze became wary. Sonea frowned. Did he now think that she welcomed his attention only because she thought nobody else would ever be romantically interested in her?
Was she? Until a moment ago she hadn’t even considered the possibility that he could be more than just a friend. She shook her head and smiled.
“You’ve given me quite a surprise this time, Dorrien.”
The corners of his lips curled upward.
She recognized Rothen’s mind-voice.
Dorrien grimaced apologetically. “I’m afraid we took longer getting here than I thought we would.”
She felt a stab of apprehension. Was she late for the First Year tests?
“Come on.”
