Looking ahead, he noticed that his globe light was failing to illuminate the walls in the distance. He frowned, then realized they were approaching a larger cavern. As they neared this, a mineral smell caught Dannyl’s attention. The tang in the air grew more distinct as they arrived at the opening. Dannyl sent his globe light out and Tayend gasped.
The chamber was as wide as the Guildhall, and filled with glistening curtains and spires of white. The sound of dripping water echoed through the space. Looking closely, Dannyl could see moisture falling from the ends of the stalactites. Between the fang-like stalagmites a shallow stream trickled.
“The Tombs of White Tears,” Tayend murmured.
“Formed by water seeping through the roof, depositing minerals wherever it flows,” Dannyl explained.
Tayend rolled his eyes. “I knew that.”
A slippery path led down into the chamber. Descending carefully, they made their way along the uneven floor. As they passed the fantastic white structures, more came into sight. Suddenly Tayend stopped.
“The Mouth of Death,” he said in a hushed voice.
Ahead, a row of stalagmites and stalactites crossed the chamber. Some had grown into each other and were slowly thickening to form columns. The gaps between others were so small, it seemed as if they would meet in mere moments. Each was colossal at the floor or ceiling, tapering to fine white points, so that the whole arrangement looked like the teeth of a huge animal.
“Shall we see if there’s a stomach?” Tayend asked. Not waiting for an answer, he ducked through two of the teeth and disappeared.
Following, Dannyl found Tayend standing on one side of a tunnel, beckoning furiously. The walls on either side were curtains of glistening white, broken here and there by shallow horizontal alcoves. Moving to Tayend’s side, he saw that a skeleton lay within a small alcove. A new curtain of white had formed, half covering the alcove.
“They must have cut the tombs knowing that the walls would grow down to cover them,” Tayend said quietly.
Moving on, they found another tomb, then another. The farther they travelled, the older and more numerous the tombs. Eventually there were no skeletons to be seen, just walls that had covered the alcoves completely.
Dannyl knew that hours had passed. The Vindo forbade visitors to the caves during daylight, and he began to worry that they would not return to the beach in time to meet their boat. When they reached the end of the tunnel he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s nothing here,” Tayend said, casting about.
Around them the walls were unbroken. Dannyl moved closer to the right, examining them carefully. They almost seemed to be translucent in places. Following suit, Tayend peered at the surface of the left-hand wall intently. After several minutes, he called Dannyl’s name excitedly.
Moving to his friend’s side, Dannyl saw that Tayend was pointing at a small hole.
“Can you get some light in there?”
“I’ll try.”
As Tayend moved aside, Dannyl created a tiny spark and sent it into the hole. He watched as it moved through a finger-width of white mineral deposit, then out into darkness.
Brightening the spark to light the space beyond, he felt a smile spread across his face.
“What is it?” Tayend asked excitedly. “Let me see!”
Stepping aside, Dannyl watched as Tayend bent to peer in the hole. The scholar’s eyes widened. Beyond the curtain of white was a small cave. A carved coffin lay in the center of the room. The walls inside were partly coated in mineral sediment, but much of the original carved decoration was still visible.
Tayend whipped out sheets of paper and a drawing stick from his coat, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How long have I got?”
Dannyl shrugged. “An hour, probably less.”
“That’ll be enough for now. Can we come back again?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Tayend grinned. “We’ve found it, Dannyl! We’ve found what your High Lord was searching for. Evidence of ancient magic!”
22
Avoiding the High Lord
As Sonea left the Healers’ Quarters, novices hurried past her, some running or leaping about and whooping. Sonea listened to the laughter and excitement around her. With the final gong still ringing in their ears, novices of all ages and levels were talking of riding horses, attending court dances and playing games she had never heard of.
For the next two weeks brown robes would be a rare sight on the grounds, as the novices - and not a few magicians - returned to their families for the winter break.
Reaching the University, she paused as several older novices rushed out. A few stragglers hurried past her as she climbed the stairs. Once she had reached the second floor, however, she found herself abruptly alone.
The silence in the corridor had an emptiness to it that she hadn’t experienced before, even late at night. Clasping her box to her chest, Sonea hurried to a side passage.
While the Magicians’ Library was on the ground floor of the University, close to the rear of the building, the Novices’ Library was reached via a confusing and twisted series of passages on the second level. Sonea hadn’t been able to find it the first time she had looked, and had eventually resorted to following other novices.
Reaching the library, she saw that it, too, was empty of novices. Opening the door, she heard footsteps and bowed as the librarian, Lady Tya, appeared.
“I’m sorry, Sonea,” Tya said, “the library is closing now. I’ve just finished packing up for the year.”
“Will it be open over the break, my lady?”
The librarian shook her head. Nodding, Sonea backed out of the door and turned away.
At the next crossing of passages she stopped. Cursing, she leaned back against the wall. Where could she go now? Anywhere but the High Lord’s Residence. Shivering, she considered the passages to her left and right. The one on the right led back to the main corridor. To the left the passage led to... where?
Starting down it, she reached another intersection. She stopped, remembering the confusing journey Dorrien had taken her on to get to the roof of the University. He had said he knew every passage and room in the building. Growing up in the Guild had its advantages, he’d told her.
Sonea pursed her lips. She needed every advantage she could get. It was time she knew her way around this place.
But what if she got lost?
Sonea chuckled. She had hours to fill. For the first time in six months, she didn’t need to be anywhere. If she lost her way, she’d find it again.
Smiling grimly, she started walking.
Four firm knocks rapped on the door. Lorlen’s blood turned to ice.
This was not Osen’s polite rapping, or the timid tap of Lorlen’s servant. Nor was it the unfamiliar tap of another magician. It was a knock he had been dreading; a knock he had known would come.
Now that it had he couldn’t move. He stared at the door hoping in vain that the visitor would think him absent, and go away.
The communication jolted him. It sounded different, as if an actual voice had spoken within his mind.
Lorlen drew in a deep breath. He would have to face Akkarin eventually. Why prolong the moment? Sighing
