The Novice

the picture above it represented a figure kneeling before a woman. The woman’s hand was extended to touch the supplicant’s upraised palm, as if to placate or reward.

“That could imply that she’s performing this high magic. What do you think she’s doing?”

Dannyl shrugged. “Healing, perhaps. That would make sense, since Healing would have been very rare a thousand years ago. It was only through cooperation and experimentation that the Guild managed to develop the skill - and it’s still the most difficult discipline to learn.”

“So the term ‘high magic’ is not familiar?”

Dannyl shook his head. “No.”

“The hole we looked through did not look natural to me. It had to have been made by someone. Do you think it might have been made by magic?”

“Possibly.” Dannyl smiled. “I think the last visitor did us a favor.”

“Indeed he did.” The ship dropped sharply. Tayend winced and turned a sickly color.

“You’re not going to spend this journey in misery,” Dannyl said firmly. “Give me your wrist.”

Tayend’s eyes widened. “But... I...”

“You haven’t got any excuses now.”

To Dannyl’s amusement, Tayend blushed and looked away. “I’m still, um, uncomfortable with... well...”

Dannyl waved a hand. “This sort of Healing is quick. And I won’t be reading your mind. Besides, you have to face the truth. You’re not very good company when you’re sick. When you’re not throwing up everywhere, you’re complaining about throwing up.”

“Complaining about it!” Tayend protested. “I did not complain!” He thrust his wrist out. “Go on then.”

Tayend closed his eyes tightly. Taking the scholar’s wrist, Dannyl sent his mind out and immediately felt nausea and giddiness. A small effort of will soothed it away. Letting go of Tayend’s wrist, Dannyl watched as the scholar opened his eyes and considered the effect.

“That’s much better.” Tayend gave Dannyl a quick, searching glance, then shrugged and looked down at his notes. “How long will it last?”

“A few hours. Longer as you get used to the rocking.”

Tayend smiled. “I knew I’d brought you along for something. What are we going to do when we get back?”

Dannyl grimaced. “I’ll have to spend a lot of time catching up on my ambassadorial duties.”

“Well, while you do that, I’ll continue our research. We knew where Akkarin travelled to because of the ships’ records. A question here and there will tell us what he did afterward. The Bel Arralade has a party to celebrate her birthday every year and that will be the perfect place to start. An invitation will be waiting at the Guild House for you.”

“How can you be sure? I’ve barely spent more than a few months in Capia, and I haven’t met the Bel Arralade yet.”

“Which is why I’m certain you’ll be invited.” Tayend smiled. “A young, unmarried magician like yourself. Besides, Ambassador Errend always attends. If you didn’t get an invite, he’d insist you accompanied him.”

“And you?”

“I have friends who’ll take me if I ask nicely.”

“Why not come with me?”

Tayend glanced up and down the corridor between their cabins. He leaned forward.

“If we arrive together, there will be assumptions made you might rather weren’t.”

“We’ve been travelling together for months,” Dannyl pointed out. “Assumptions may have already been made.”

“Not necessarily.” Tayend waved a hand. “Not if people observe you treating me as a mere underling. They may assume you don’t know about me. After all, you’re Kyralian. If you knew, you would have found another assistant.”

“We really have a bad reputation, don’t we?”

Tayend nodded. “But we can use that to our advantage. If anyone says anything about me, you should be outraged that they would slander my name. I’ll plead with my friends that they keep you in the dark, because it’s important to my work. If we’re convincing enough, we’ll be able to continue working together without anyone questioning.”

Dannyl frowned. He hated to admit it, but Tayend was right. Though he wanted to shrug and let the gossips talk, any steps they could take to protect his reputation would make both of their lives easier.

“Very well. I’ll act like the arrogant Kyralian magician people expect.” He looked at Tayend. “But I want you to remember, if I say anything harsh or judgmental, I don’t really mean it.”

Tayend nodded. “I know.”

“I’m just warning you. My acting skills are fairly good.”

“Oh, really?”

Dannyl chuckled. “Yes, really. I have my mentor’s words to prove it. He said if I could convince the Thieves I was a poor merchant, I could deceive anyone.”

“We’ll see,” Tayend replied. “We’ll see.”

Lord Osen waited patiently as Lorlen finished the letter. With a wave of his hand, Lorlen dried the ink, then folded the sheet of paper and sealed it.

“What is next?” he asked as he handed the letter to Osen.

“That is all.”

Lorlen looked up, surprised. “We’ve caught up?”

“Yes.” Osen smiled.

Leaning back in his chair, Lorlen regarded his assistant approvingly. “I haven’t thanked you for looking after everything for me last week.”

Osen shrugged. “You needed a rest. In my opinion, you should have taken a longer break. Perhaps visited family for a few weeks like everyone else. You still look worn out.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Lorlen replied. “But leave them all to their own devices for a few weeks?” He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

The young magician chuckled. “Now you’re starting to sound like your old self. Shall we start preparations for the next Meet?”

“No.” Lorlen frowned as he remembered. “I’m visiting the High Lord tonight.”

“Forgive me for saying, but you don’t sound particularly enthusiastic.” Osen hesitated, then continued in a quieter tone. “Have you two had a disagreement?”

Lorlen considered his assistant. Osen rarely missed anything, but he was discreet. Would he believe a denial? Probably not completely.

—Tell him we have. Something minor.

Lorlen stiffened at the voice in his mind. Akkarin hadn’t spoken to him through the ring since the conversation outside the Night Room over a week ago.

“I guess you could say we have,” Lorlen replied slowly. “In a manner of speaking.”

Osen nodded. “I thought so. Was it over Sonea’s guardianship? That’s what some of the magicians believe.”

“Do they?” Lorlen could not help smiling. He had become an object of gossip.

—Well? he projected at the ring.

—The answer you are considering will do.

Snorting softly, Lorlen looked up and gave Osen a warning look. “I know I can trust you to keep this to yourself, Osen. Speculation is fine, but I do not want the others to know the High Lord and I disagreed. For Sonea’s sake.”

Osen nodded. “I understand. I will keep it to myself - and I hope you two resolve your differences.”

Lorlen stood up. “That depends on how well Sonea adapts to the change. It is a bit much to expect of her after all she’s been through already.”

“I wouldn’t want to be in her position,” Osen admitted as he followed Lorlen to the door. “But I’m sure she’ll