The Novice

heavily, Lorlen willed the door to open.

“Good evening, Lorlen.”

Akkarin stepped inside, wearing the same half-smile that he usually greeted Lorlen with. As if they were still good friends.

“High Lord.” Lorlen swallowed. His heart was beating too fast and he wanted to shrink into his chair. He felt a flash of irritation at himself. You’re Administrator of the Guild, he told himself, at least be dignified. He forced himself to rise and face Akkarin.

“Not visiting the Night Room tonight?” Akkarin asked.

“I wasn’t in the mood.”

There was silence, then Akkarin crossed his arms.

“I did not harm them, Lorlen.” Akkarin’s voice was quiet. “Nor you. Sonea will actually benefit from my guardianship. Her teachers were neglecting her, despite Rothen’s influence. Now they will go out of their way to help her - and she will need their help if she is to fulfil the potential I saw in her.”

Lorlen stared at Akkarin, shocked. “You read her mind?”

An eyebrow rose. “Of course. She may be small, but she is no child. You know this, Lorlen. You have read her mind, too.”

“That was different.” Lorlen looked away. “I was invited.” No doubt Akkarin had read Rothen’s mind as well. He felt another wave of guilt.

“But that is not why I’m here,” Akkarin said. “Nothing has ever kept you from the Night Room when so much gossip and speculation was sure to be had. They will expect you to attend. It is time you stopped moping, my friend.”

Friend? Lorlen scowled and looked down at the ring. What kind of friend did this? What kind of Administrator allows a black magician to take a novice hostage? He sighed. One who has no choice.

To protect Sonea, he must pretend that nothing had happened. Nothing more extraordinary than the High Lord finally claiming a novice’s guardianship and surprising all by choosing the slum girl. He nodded.

“I will go. Are you coming?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“No, I will return to my residence.”

Lorlen nodded again. If Akkarin appeared in the Night Room, his presence would discourage gossip. In his absence, however, the questions that none dared ask the High Lord would be asked of the Administrator. As usual, Akkarin would expect a report.

Then Lorlen remembered the ring and Akkarin’s words: “I will be able to see and hear everything around you.” Akkarin did not need to wait for a report. He would be listening to all that was said.

Rising, Lorlen moved into his bedroom, splashed water on his face from a bowl, and checked his reflection in the mirror. Two dark smudges under his eyes told of the sleepless nights he’d endured. Smoothing his hair, he combed it to the nape of his neck and tied it neatly. His robes were creased, but a small magical exertion fixed that.

Returning to the guestroom, he met Akkarin’s gaze levelly. A faint smile touched the High Lord’s mouth. Turning away, Lorlen schooled his expression and willed the door open.

Following Akkarin out, Lorlen saw the magicians in the corridor pause and look at him closely. He nodded politely. They would see the dark circles under his eyes and assume he had been ill. Outside the Magicians’ Quarters, Akkarin bade him good night and disappeared into the University.

Continuing to the Night Room, Lorlen greeted two magicians as they, too, reached the entrance. As he expected, they asked if he was well. He assured them that he was, and led them inside.

As the inner doors opened, heads turned to see who had entered. The buzz of voices changed, first diminishing, then growing more intense. Lorlen made his way across the crowded room toward his favorite chair and saw that several magicians, including many of the Higher Magicians, had already gathered around it.

To his amusement, he found Lord Yikmo in his seat. The young Warrior leapt to his feet.

“Administrator Lorlen!” he exclaimed. “Please sit down. Are you well? You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” Lorlen replied.

“That is good to hear,” Yikmo said. “We were hoping you would come tonight, but I’d sympathize if you decided to avoid all the questions about Sonea and the High Lord.”

Lorlen managed to smile. “But I couldn’t leave you all wondering, could I?” Lorlen leaned back in the chair, and waited for the first question. Three magicians, including Lord Peakin, spoke at once. They stopped, glanced at each other, then two nodded politely to the Head of Alchemic Studies.

“Did you know Akkarin was thinking of taking on her guardianship?” Lord Peakin asked.

“No,” Lorlen admitted. “He has shown no more interest in her than in any other novice. We’ve talked about her from time to time, but otherwise he kept his thoughts to himself. He may have been considering her for weeks, even months.”

“Why Sonea, then?” Lord Garrel asked.

“Again, I’m not sure. Something must have attracted his attention.”

“Perhaps it was her strength,” Lord Yikmo mused. “Those summer intake novices alerted us all to her potential when they combined their powers against her.”

“Has he tested her, then?”

Lorlen hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

The magicians around him exchanged looks of sympathy.

“What did he find?” Peakin asked.

“He told me he saw great potential,” Lorlen replied. “He’s eager to oversee her training.”

One of the magicians standing nearby straightened and moved away to join a newcomer and no doubt spread this information. Beyond the pair, a familiar face caught Lorlen’s eye. As Rothen’s eyes met his, Lorlen felt a pang of guilt.

That Rothen was present surprised him. Had Akkarin ordered Rothen to keep up appearances, too?

“Director Jerrik has told me she will be attending evening classes,” Lady Vinara said. “Do you think this is too much to expect from her?”

Dragging his attention back to the questioners, Lorlen shrugged. “That is news to me. I didn’t know he had already approached Jerrik.”

“Most of her night classes are to cover those displaced by private Warrior Skills,” Lord Yikmo told them.

“Why couldn’t she attend those at night?” another asked.

“Because I don’t teach during the evening,” Yikmo replied, smiling broadly.

“Forgive me for saying so, but I’d have expected Lord Balkan to teach the High Lord’s favorite,” Lord Garrel said. “But perhaps your unusual teaching style would suit a girl like Sonea.”

“I have found novices with quick minds and less aggressive temperaments respond well to my methods,” Yikmo replied smoothly.

Sensing that Rothen was still watching him, Lorlen turned to look into the crowd. Rothen looked away. Returning to the conversation, Lorlen steered it away from Sonea’s classes with Yikmo. Warriors! he thought. Always so competitive.

Two hours later Lorlen found himself suppressing a yawn. He glanced around at the magicians, then rose.

“Excuse me,” he said. “It is growing late and I want to have an early night. Good evening.”

Crossing the room was not easy. Every few steps he was approached and questioned. After politely extracting himself several times, he turned around and found himself facing Rothen.

They stared at each other in silence. Heart racing, all Lorlen could think was that Akkarin had forbidden them to talk to each other. But faces had turned to watch them, and if they didn’t speak all kinds of speculation would be generated.

“Good evening, Administrator,” Rothen said.

“Good evening, Lord Rothen,” Lorlen replied.

So we’ve disobeyed Akkarin already, Lorlen mused. Rothen’s face was more lined than he recalled. Suddenly remembering the ring, Lorlen clasped his hands behind his back. “I wanted to... to