Dannyl frowned. “Then why did she comment on your attractiveness to women, I wonder?”
“She was probably testing you, to see what you knew about me. What did you say?”
“That I didn’t know you well enough to guess if you had anyone in mind.”
Tayend’s eyebrows rose. “No, you don’t, do you?” he said in a quiet voice. “I wonder. Would it disturb you to know if there was?”
“Disturb me?” Dannyl shook his head. “No... but perhaps that would depend on who it was. Should I take it, then, that there is someone?”
“Perhaps.” Tayend smiled crookedly. “But I’m not going to tell you... yet.”
Amused, Dannyl looked over Tayend’s shoulder at Velend. Surely not... A face turned toward him, and a hand waved. Recognizing Ambassador Errend, Dannyl nodded in reply. “Ambassador Errend wants me to join him.”
Tayend nodded. “And I will be accused of being a bore if I spend the night discussing work. Will I see you at the library soon?”
“In a few days. I think we may have another journey to plan.”
Sonea ran a finger along the spines of the books. She found a gap and slipped the missing volume into it. The other book she was holding was thick and heavy. Realizing it belonged on a shelf on the other side of the library, she tucked it under her arm and started across the room.
“Sonea!”
Turning into another aisle, Sonea strode toward the front of the library, where Lady Tya was sitting behind a small desk.
“What is it, my lady?”
“A message arrived for you,” the librarian told her. “The High Lord wants to see you in Lord Yikmo’s training room.”
Sonea nodded, her mouth suddenly dry. What did Akkarin want? A demonstration?
“I had better go, then. Would you like me to come back tomorrow night?”
Lady Tya smiled. “You’re a dream come true, Sonea. Nobody believes how much work it takes to maintain this place. But you must have a lot of studying to do.”
“I can spare an hour or two - and it helps to know what’s here, and where to find it.”
The librarian nodded. “If you have some spare time, then I welcome the help.” She shook a finger at Sonea. “But I don’t want to hear anyone saying I’m distracting the High Lord’s favorite from her studies.”
“You won’t.” Putting down the book, Sonea picked up her box and opened the door. “Good night, Lady Tya.”
The University passages were quiet and still. Sonea started toward Lord Yikmo’s room.
With each step she felt dread growing. Lord Yikmo did not like to teach in the evenings. The Vindo magician’s reasons had something to do with the religion of his homeland. A request from the High Lord could not be refused, however.
Even so, it was a late hour to start any kind of lesson or demonstration. Perhaps Akkarin had another reason for calling her to Yikmo’s room. Perhaps Yikmo wasn’t even going to be there...
She jumped as a novice stepped out in front of her from a side passage. As she tried to walk around him, he moved to block her path, and three more novices stepped out to stand beside him.
“Hello, Sonea. Did you get my message?”
Turning around, she felt her heart sink. Regin stood at the front of a small crowd of novices, blocking the passage behind. She recognized a few members of her old class, but the rest were only vaguely familiar. These others, she realized, were older novices. They stared at her coldly, and she remembered the comments she had overheard the day classes had resumed. If so many thought she didn’t deserve to have been chosen by the High Lord, it wouldn’t have taken much for Regin to persuade some of them to join him.
“Poor Sonea,” Regin drawled. “It must be so lonely being the High Lord’s favorite. No friends. No one to play with. We thought you might like some company. Perhaps a little game.” He glanced at one of the older boys. “What shall we play?”
The boy grinned. “I liked your first idea, Regin.”
“A game of ‘Purge,’ then?” Regin shrugged. “I guess it will be good practice for the work we might have to do later in life. But I think it’ll take more than flashy lights and barriers to get this sort of vermin out of the University.” He narrowed his eyes at Sonea. “We’ll just have to use more persuasive means.”
Anger stirred within Sonea at his words, but as his hands rose, it turned to disbelief. Surely he wouldn’t strike her. Not here. Not in the University.
“You wouldn’t dare...”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t I?” As light flashed from his hand she threw up a shield. “What are you going to do about it? Tell your guardian? Somehow, I don’t think you will. I think you’re too scared of him.”
Regin drew closer, and white magic blasted from both palms.
“How can you be sure?” she retorted. “And what if someone finds us fighting in the corridors? You know the rules.”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of that.” Regin smirked. “We’ve checked. There’s nobody around. Even Lady Tya has left the library.”
His strikes were easy to shield. A few blasts of power and she could stop him. But she resisted the temptation, remembering Yikmo’s lecture on the responsibility of magicians to avoid harming others.
“So call on your guardian, Sonea,” he urged. “Ask him to rescue you.”
She felt a shiver of cold run down her spine, but ignored it. “From you, Regin? That’s hardly worth bothering the High Lord for.”
He glanced at the novices around him. “Did you hear that? She thinks we’re not worthy of the High Lord’s attention. The best of the Houses, and she a mere slum girl? So let’s show her who’s worthy. Come on.”
He attacked her again. Feeling her shield assailed also from behind, she glanced back to see that Kano and Issle had stepped to the front of the novices there. But the older novices were frowning. Looking around at their faces, Sonea saw doubt.
“I told you,” Regin said between strikes. “She won’t tell him.”
Still, the older novices hesitated.
“If she does,” Regin added, “I’ll take responsibility. I’m willing to do that, just to prove it to you. What have you got to lose?”
Feeling more strikes, Sonea glanced over her shoulder again to see that more novices had joined in. It took much more power to hold her shield now. Growing worried, she glanced to either side, considering what to do. If she could get to the main corridor... She started forward, forcing Regin and his companions back.
“If you don’t join us now,” Regin all but shouted to the few still-hesitant novices, “she’ll get away. Just like she’s getting away with taking what’s rightfully ours. Are you going to put her in her place, or spend the rest of your lives bowing down to a slum girl!”
The novices beside him stepped forward, though with some reluctance, and attacked with forcestrike. Trying to move into forcestrike took more of her strength than simply shielding, and though she managed to advance, progress was slow and costly.
She stopped and reconsidered. Did she have enough strength to reach the corridor? She couldn’t say. Better to conserve her strength. Hopefully they would exhaust themselves, and she would be able to push past easily.
So long as she didn’t tire first.
To reduce the size of her shield, she pressed her back to the wall. As the attack continued, she considered what their purpose was. She had assumed Regin had gathered such a large group so he would have a bigger audience - and protection if she fought back. Was he hoping to exhaust her, too? If so, what did he intend to do once they had worn her down? Kill her? Surely a slum girl was not worth going to prison for. No, he probably intended for her to be too tired for her lessons the next day.
The strikes were weakening but, to her alarm, she felt her own strength starting to falter. It was going to be close. Too close. As her shield began to waver, Regin raised his arms.
“Stop!”
