The Novice

pleased. I am sure you’ll understand why. Along with the loss of her company, I am left with a feeling of having left a work unfinished.

So, at Yaldin’s suggestion, I have adopted a new interest to replace the old. You will, no doubt, be amused to hear of it. I have decided to compile a book about ancient magical practices. It is a task Akkarin began ten years ago, and I am determined to complete it.

From what I recall, Akkarin began his search at the Great Library. Since you are living close to the library, I thought I might ask if you would visit it for me. If you do not have time, is there anyone you have met who might be trusted with such a task? They would need to be discreet, since I do not want to give the High Lord the impression I am investigating his past! It would, however, be satisfying to succeed where he failed. I know you will appreciate the irony.

Yours in friendship, Lord Rothen.

P.S. Dorrien visited for a few weeks. He asked me to forward his congratulations and good wishes to you.

Dannyl read the letter twice, then chuckled. He had never seen Rothen fail to achieve something he had set out to do. Mostly these “interests” were the novices he took guardianship of. To lose Sonea to the High Lord must sting.

Yet having the High Lord choose her was no failure. Without Rothen’s hard work contributing to her success, Sonea may not have caught Akkarin’s eye. Dannyl nodded. He must remember to say that in his reply.

He scanned the letter again, slowing as he reread Rothen’s request for assistance. He did appreciate the irony, but even more amusing was that Rothen should ask for the same information that Lorlen had just decided he was no longer interested in. Quite a coincidence.

Dannyl picked up Lorlen’s letter and unfolded it. Looking from one letter to the other, he felt the skin tingle at the back of his neck. Was this a coincidence? He stared at the two letters for some time, noting the hurried marks of Lorlen’s and the carefully shaped letters of Rothen’s. What was going on here?

If he set aside all speculation, only three certainties remained. Firstly, Lorlen had wanted to know what Akkarin had learned on his journey, and now didn’t. Secondly, Rothen now wanted the same information that Akkarin had sought. Thirdly, both Lorlen and Rothen wanted the search to remain a secret, and Akkarin had never made his own discoveries public.

There was a mystery here. Even if Rothen hadn’t requested his help, Dannyl might have been curious enough to continue the research for his own interest. Now he was determined to. After all, he hadn’t spent several weeks at sea to just abandon everything.

Smiling to himself, he folded the letters and placed them with his notes on Akkarin’s journey.

At every step from the University to the High Lord’s Residence, the knot in Sonea’s stomach tightened. By the time she had reached the door her heart was racing. She paused, took a deep breath, and tapped the handle.

As always, it swung open at the first touch. She felt her mouth go dry as she looked inside the guestroom. Akkarin was sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for her.

“Come in, Sonea.”

Swallowing, she forced herself to step inside and bow, keeping her eyes to the floor. Robes rustled softly as he rose from the chair. Her heart skipped as he walked toward her. She stepped back and felt her heel meet the door behind her.

“I have had a meal prepared for us.”

She barely heard him, conscious only of the hand that reached toward her. His fingers curled around the handle of her box. At his touch she jerked her hand back, surrendering the box. He set it on a low table.

“Follow me.”

As he turned away she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She started after him, then stopped as she realized he was heading for the stairs that led to the underground room. As if sensing her hesitation, he turned to look at her.

“Come along. Takan will not be pleased if the food goes cold.”

Food. A meal. Surely he didn’t eat down there. She sighed with relief as he began to ascend the stairs. Forcing herself to move, she entered the stairwell and followed him up.

Reaching the corridor, Akkarin passed two doors before stopping at a third. The door swung open, and he stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

Looking into the room beyond, Sonea saw a large polished table surrounded by lavishly decorated chairs. Plates, forks and glasses had been laid out on the table.

A formal meal. Why?

“Go on,” he murmured.

She glanced at him, catching a glitter of amusement in his eyes before stepping through the door. He followed and pointed to a chair.

“Please, sit.” Moving around the table, he settled into the opposite chair.

Obeying, she wondered how she was going to eat. Her appetite had fled with Lord Larkin’s message. Perhaps she could say she wasn’t hungry. Perhaps he would let her go.

She looked down at the table, then caught her breath. Everything before her was made of gold: cutlery, plates and even the rims of the glasses were coated with it. A half-forgotten thrill of temptation ran through her. It would be so easy to slip one of these forks into her clothing when he wasn’t looking. Though she was not as quick- fingered as she had once been, she had tested herself now and then by playing tricks on Rothen. Just one of these beautiful forks could fetch a fortune - or, at least, enough to live on until she found some remote place to disappear in.

But I can’t leave. Frustrated, she wondered if it would be worth stealing something just to annoy him.

She jumped then, as she realized that Akkarin’s servant was standing beside her. Disturbed that she had not heard him approaching, she watched as he poured wine into her glass, then moved around the table to perform the same service for Akkarin.

Since she left her room early, and returned late, she had only glimpsed the servant a few times. Now, looking closer, she shivered as she realized she had seen him before, in the underground room, helping Akkarin perform the black magic ritual.

“How were your lessons today, Sonea?”

Startled, she looked at Akkarin, then quickly evaded his eyes.

“Interesting, High Lord.”

“What did you learn?”

“About magician-designed architecture. Lord Loren’s designs.”

“Ah, Lord Loren. Your investigation of the University passages must have familiarized you with some of his peculiarities.”

She kept her eyes lowered. So he knew about her exploration of the University. Had he watched her? Followed her? Despite Lord Larkin’s assurances that she had not ventured anywhere forbidden to novices, she felt her face warming. Taking her glass, she sipped at the wine. It was sweet and strong.

“How are your classes with Lord Yikmo going?”

She winced. What should she say? Disappointing? Awful? Humiliating?

“You don’t like the Warrior Skills.”

It was a statement. She decided she didn’t need to reply. Instead, she took another mouthful of wine.

“Warrior Skills are important. They draw on everything that you learn in the other disciplines, then challenge your understanding of them. Only in battle do you find the limits of your strength, knowledge and Control. It is a pity Rothen neglected to arrange extra training when you first showed a weakness in this part of your education.”

Sonea felt a stab of hurt and anger at his criticism of Rothen. “I guess he saw no need for it,” she replied. “We’re not at war, or under any threat of it.”

One of Akkarin’s long fingers tapped the base of his glass.

“Do you think it is wise to throw away all our knowledge of war during times of peace?”