The Novice

express my sympathy. It must be distressing to lose the guardianship of a novice who you were clearly very fond of.”

A crease deepened between Rothen’s brows. “It is,” he agreed.

How he wished he could reassure Rothen. Perhaps he could...

“I’ve just heard she has been enrolled in evening classes for her Second Year. She’ll be spending most of her time in lessons, so I doubt she’ll see much of her new guardian at all—which is probably Akkarin’s way of keeping her out from under his feet.”

Rothen nodded slowly. “That will agree with her, I’m sure.” He hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Are you well, Administrator?”

“Yes.” Lorlen smiled wanly. “I just need some sleep. I—” He stopped and smiled as a group of magicians passed. “Thank you for your concern. Good night, Lord Rothen.”

“Good night, Administrator.”

Turning away, Lorlen continued to the doors of the Night Room and stepped out into the chill night air. He allowed himself a shallow sigh. Do I really believe Akkarin won’t harm them?

—They’re safe enough. Reassuring Rothen was a wise move.

Lorlen stiffened in surprise and looked down at the ring. Glancing around, he was relieved to see that the courtyard was empty and no one had seen his reaction.

—You’ve told me about Garrel’s conversational skills, but I’ve never seen him in action. Does he do that to everyone?

Lorlen looked down at the ring. It caught the light of the lamps around the courtyard, looking no different from any ordinary ruby.

—I told you, Lorlen. Everything you see and hear.

—And think?

—When I’m listening - but you won’t know when I’m listening.

Appalled, Lorlen grasped the ring and began twisting it off.

—Stop, Lorlen. You’re tormented with enough guilt already. Don’t force me to make it worse.

Letting the ring go, Lorlen clenched his fingers in frustration.

—That’s better. Now get some rest. You have work to catch up on.

Breathing heavily with anger and defeat, Lorlen started toward his rooms.

Familiarizing herself with the inner passages of the University had turned out to be more difficult than Sonea had expected. The deeper she explored, the easier it was to become lost. So convoluted and unpredictable were the passages, she began to wonder if they had been designed specifically to confuse strangers.

The layout did not follow a predictable or repetitive pattern. Each passage twisted and turned in different ways. Sometimes they met the main corridor again; sometimes she found a dead end.

Taking a piece of paper out of her box, she began counting her steps and drawing the turns as she walked. After an hour, she had mapped out a small section of passages. Parts were missing, however. Though she retraced her steps, she found no passages leading into the blank sections on her maps.

She stopped and sat on her box to rest and think. She had assumed that the convoluted route Dorrien had taken when he took her up to the roof had been a deliberate ploy to confuse her. Perhaps it hadn’t. Thinking back, she remembered an odd little room they had passed through. It had contained a few cabinets with ornaments, but otherwise appeared to have no practical purpose. Perhaps, she thought, its true purpose might be that of a portal or gateway to internal parts of the University.

Rising, she hurried to one of the dead ends she had encountered. The corridor ended at a plain, unmarked wall, but to her left was a door. She gripped the handle... and paused.

What if she was wrong and this was an ordinary room? She might walk in on a magician, or interrupt a gathering.

Perhaps that was exactly what she was supposed to think. Most people would feel reluctant to open the closed door of an unknown room uninvited. She took her hand from the door and stepped back to regard it. Was there any sign or indication that this door led to a portal room rather than an ordinary one?

It was made of a dark wood. The surface was plain and undecorated. The hinges were blackened iron. She walked back along the passage to examine other doors. They were the same.

Returning to the first door, Sonea struggled with her reluctance to open it. She imagined herself striding into a room only to find a startled and angry magician staring at her.

But if she did, she could always apologize and say she had made a mistake. Better still, she could knock first and if anyone answered she could say that she had knocked on the wrong door. Obviously, novices were always getting confused and lost.

She rapped lightly, then a little louder. After she had counted to fifty, she turned the handle. The door opened with a click and swung outward.

Stepping through, she entered a room just like the one she remembered Dorrien taking her through. Feeling pleased with herself, she strode across to the other door. It swung inward to reveal another passage.

This one was different from those she had already explored. The walls were panelled with wood, and paintings and relief carvings hung along its length. Even the air smelled different - a mix of wood polish and herbs. Sonea wandered slowly from picture to picture, enjoying the satisfaction of having proved her instincts right.

The portal rooms acted as a barrier, she decided. They kept those who didn’t know their purpose out of these inner passages. Most people would not open a door unless they knew what lay beyond, and even if they opened the door by mistake, they would find an uninteresting room beyond. She wondered how many portal rooms there were. Finding out would give her something to do over the next two weeks.

She frowned then. If parts of the University had been designed to deter exploration, was she now in a part that was forbidden to novices?

Hearing a soft creak nearby, she spun about. A door opened a few strides down the passage. Too late to hide, she felt her heart skip as a magician stepped out. He looked up at her and frowned.

Look like you belong here! Straightening her back, she walked toward him as if she had just paused to view a painting. His eyes dropped to the incal on her sleeve. As she neared, she paused and bowed, then moved past.

Hearing his footsteps fade behind her, she sighed with relief. From his reaction to her presence, novices were not allowed into this part of the University. Yet he had accepted her presence after noting the incal on her sleeve. Perhaps he assumed she was on some errand for the High Lord. She smiled at that. So long as she looked as if she had a reason to be there, the magicians would leave her alone.

So where to from here? she asked herself. Unfolding the scrap of paper in her hand, she considered her map again.

23 Akkarin’s Promise

Returning from the deck, Dannyl found Tayend sitting cross-legged on the narrow bed in his cabin. The scholar’s drawings and notes were spread over every flat surface.

“I’ve translated what I can. There’s a phrase on the coffin that I suspect is repeated in several ancient languages. I’ll be able to check that when I get back to the library. The third line is in the early Elyne tongue that merged with the Kyralian one a thousand years ago.”

“What does it say?”

“That this woman was fair and honorable. That she protected the islands with high magic. The words for ‘high magic’ were carved deeply. There’s a glyph emphasized in the same way in what I think is an old Vindo tongue - which is what was carved on the walls. The same glyph appears on the walls in several places.”

Handing Dannyl a drawing, Tayend pointed out the glyph. Each time the words for “high magic” occurred,