As the other novices began to read, Sonea looked down at the plan of the University. The four towers at the corners and the huge room at the center were clearly drawn, as was the design of the glass ceiling, but the rooms and passages on either side of the main corridor were unmarked.
She took her map out of her box and lay it next to the plan. After staring at both, she started copying the ceiling design onto her own sketch. As she suspected, the lines that marked the spirals in the glass met those showing the passages. Though the passage turns were at right angles, they combined with the ceiling design to form even larger spirals.
“What are you doing, Sonea?”
Realizing that the teacher was standing over her desk, she felt her face heat.
“I... I thought of what you said about spirals, my lord,” she explained, “and started looking for them.”
Larkin tilted his head and examined her sketch, then pointed to the inner passages she had marked. “I’ve looked at the University plans many times but I’ve never seen this many. Where did you get this plan?”
“I, ah, made it. I didn’t have much else to do over the break. I hope I wasn’t going anywhere I wasn’t supposed to.”
He shook his head. “The only place in the University that is forbidden to novices is the Guildhall and the Administrator’s office.”
“But... those rooms between the normal passages and the decorated ones. They seemed to be a kind of barrier.”
Larkin nodded. “In the past they were locked, but as more space was needed it was decided that the inner areas should be accessible to all.”
Sonea thought of the disapproving look she had received from the magician she encountered the first night of exploration. Perhaps he had merely been suspicious of a novice wandering about alone. Perhaps he simply distrusted the slum girl.
“Would you mind if I took a copy of your plan?” Larkin asked.
“I’ll draw one for you if you like,” she offered.
He smiled. “Thank you, Sonea.”
As he moved away, Sonea watched him speculatively. There didn’t seem to be any of the disapproval or disdain in his manner that she was used to from the other teachers. Would only the novices resent her now? She glanced around the room and saw several heads turn away, but one caught her gaze.
Regin’s eyes bored into her own. Looking away, Sonea shivered. How had she ever earned such unveiled hatred?
Every time she had done well in class, he had managed to equal or surpass her. He was better at Warrior Skills, so if this was about being better than her, he was winning.
But now she had succeeded in a way that he could never match. She had become the High Lord’s favorite. To make it worse, he dared not make her suffer for it.
She sighed.
Or would he? Would Regin, who relished having power and influence and was willing to harm others to get it, be able to resist the lure of black magic? No, he’d probably want to join Akkarin. She shuddered. Regin as a black magician. The idea was truly frightening.
As Dannyl stepped into the Guild House, Ambassador Errend strolled out of the audience room.
“Welcome back, Ambassador Dannyl.”
“Thank you, Ambassador Errend,” Dannyl replied, inclining his head politely. “It is good to be back. If I ever get it into my head to go sailing around the world again, please remind me of the last two weeks.”
The Ambassador smiled. “Ah, sea travel does lose its romance after the first few journeys.”
Dannyl grimaced. “Especially if you encounter a storm.”
Though Errend’s face did not change much, Dannyl was sure he saw a hint of smugness in the man’s expression. “Well, you’re on solid ground now,” the man said. “No doubt you’ll want to rest for the remainder of the day. You can tell me of your adventures tonight.”
“Have I missed much?”
“Of course.” Errend smiled. “This is Capia.” He took a step back toward the audience room, then paused. “Some urgent letters arrived for you two days ago. Do you want to read them now, or wait until tomorrow?”
Dannyl nodded, curious despite his weariness. “Have them sent to my room. Thank you, Ambassador.”
The big man inclined his head gracefully, then turned away. Walking down the main corridor of the house, Dannyl considered the work ahead of him. He expected that there was much work to catch up on, and he had a report to compile for Lorlen. It wouldn’t be easy to find time to visit the Great Library.
But his research would continue through other means as well. The invitation to Bel Arralade’s party would probably be among the letters waiting for him. He had to admit, he was looking forward to it. It had been some time since he’d exercised his gossip-gathering skills.
When he had returned from the small Baths within the Guild House, he found a pile of letters on his desk. Sitting down, he spread them out and immediately recognized the elegant handwriting of Administrator Lorlen.
Breaking the seal, he unfolded the thick paper and began to read.
Letting the letter fall to the desk, Dannyl stared at it in astonishment. All the travelling and studying of books, and now it was all to be abandoned because of a few gossips? Obviously the research hadn’t been that important, after all.
Then he smiled. He had only assumed there was a good reason for reviving Akkarin’s quest for ancient magical knowledge. When his own curiosity had lagged in the face of reading some particularly boring old books and the discomfort of sea travel, his enthusiasm had been sustained by the thought that there might be a more significant reason for gathering the information than simply continuing Akkarin’s research. Perhaps Akkarin had been on the brink of rediscovering a valuable method of using magic, and Lorlen wanted another to take up the search. Perhaps a lost piece of history was to be found.
But Lorlen had, in just a few scribbled lines, put an end to the research as if it meant nothing after all.
Shaking his head, Dannyl folded the letter and put it aside. Tayend would be disappointed, he mused. They had no reason to attend Bel Arralade’s party now. Not that it would keep either of them from going - and he would still visit his friend at the library. Without Lorlen’s request as excuse, he would have to find another “public” reason to talk to the scholar... perhaps something else to research...
Dannyl stilled. Was Tayend the reason Lorlen had stopped the research? Had Lorlen heard the gossip about Tayend, and grown concerned that questions about Dannyl’s reputation would reemerge?
Dannyl frowned down at the letters. How could he know if this was the true reason? It was not as if he could ask Lorlen.
Another Guild symbol among the letters caught his eye. Picking up the letter, he smiled as he recognized Rothen’s sturdy handwriting. Straightening, he broke the seal and began to read.
