The strikes ceased. In the silence, Regin looked at the others one by one and grinned.
“See? Now let’s put her in her proper place.”
As he turned back to regard her, she saw the malicious glint in his eyes and realized that exhausting her had just been the first part of his plan. She wished she had continued pushing toward the main corridor. But as she did, she knew she would not have made it that far.
Regin sent another, cautious strike at her shield. One by one, the others continued this careful onslaught. Most of the strikes were weak, but as she drew more and more on the source of her power to maintain the shield, she realized she was doomed anyway. Even if they all ended up too exhausted to use their powers, ten novices could still happily torment her without using magic at all.
With growing dread, she felt her power fading. Her shield shimmered away, leaving nothing but air between herself and Regin. He smiled at the others - a tired but triumphant grin.
Then a streak of red light pulsed from Regin’s palm. Pain blossomed in her chest and flashed outward, shivering down her arms and legs and stabbing up into her head. She felt her muscles spasm, and her back sliding against the wall.
As the sensation faded she opened her eyes, and found herself curled up on the floor. Heat rushed to her face. Humiliated, she tried to stand up, but another burst of pain took over her senses. She gritted her teeth, determined that she would not cry out.
“Well, I’ve always wondered what stunstrike did,” she heard Regin say. “Like to try it?”
Hearing a sound of disgust, Sonea felt a momentary hope as two of the novices exchanged a look of dismay, then turned and walked away. But the others all wore eager expressions and her hope faded as stunstrike after stunstrike sent pain coursing through her again.
Regin’s taunt ran through her mind.
But a call for help would be heard by Akkarin - and other magicians. The whole Guild would soon know that his novice had been found exhausted and defeated in the passages of the University.
There was nothing she could do.
Curling into a ball, she waited for the novices to use up the last of their power, or grow bored with their game, and leave her alone.
It was well past midnight when Lorlen finally finished the last letter. He rose, stretched and walked to the door, barely seeing his surroundings as he automatically set the magical lock. As he turned to walk down the corridor he heard a noise in the University Entrance Hall.
He paused, considering whether to investigate. It had been a soft sound, perhaps a dead leaf blown in through the doorway. He had just made up his mind to ignore it when the sound came again.
Frowning, he moved to the Entrance Hall doorway. A movement drew his eye to one of the enormous doors. Something slid along the ancient timber. He took a step forward, then drew in a sharp breath.
Sonea was leaning against the enormous door as if she might fall over without its support. She took a step, then stopped and swayed at the top of the stairs. Hurrying forward, Lorlen grabbed her arm to steady her. She stared at him in surprise and obvious dismay.
“What has happened to you?” he asked.
“Nothing, my lord,” she said.
“Nothing? You’re exhausted.”
She shrugged, and it was obvious even that took effort. All her strength was gone. As if... as if she had been drained of it...
“What has he done to you?” Lorlen gasped.
She frowned, then shook her head. Suddenly her knees buckled and she sank to the stairs. He sat down beside her, releasing her arm.
“It’s not what you think,” she told him, then folded forward and rested her head on her knees. “Not
“Then what has made you like this?”
Sonea’s shoulders drooped, but she didn’t answer.
“Was it something a teacher set you to do?”
She shook her head.
“Did you try something that took more power than you expected?”
She shook her head again.
Lorlen tried to think of some other way her powers might have been exhausted. He thought of the few times he used all his strength. He had to think back many years, to his time in the University. To fighting Akkarin in Warrior Skills. But she had said it wasn’t Akkarin.
Then he remembered. Once, the teacher had set several against each class member. It had been one of the few times he had been bested.
But it was too late for classes. Why would she be fighting other novices? Lorlen scowled as a name sprang to mind. Regin. The boy had probably gathered his supporters together and waylaid her somewhere. It was bold and risky. If Sonea told Akkarin of the harassment...
But she wouldn’t. Lorlen looked at Sonea and felt his heart twist. At the same time he felt an unexpected pride.
“It was Regin, wasn’t it?”
Her eyelids flickered open. Seeing the wariness there, he nodded.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone unless you want me to. I will let Akkarin know what is going on, if you like.”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t. Please.”
Of course. She wouldn’t want Akkarin to know.
“I wasn’t expecting it,” she added. “I’ll keep away from them now.”
Lorlen nodded slowly. “Well, if you can’t, then know that you can call on me for help.”
The edge of her mouth lifted in a wry smile, then she drew in a deep breath and started to rise.
“Wait.” She paused as he took her hand. “Here,” he said. “This will help.”
He sent a gentle stream of Healing energy out through his palm into her body. Her eyes widened as she sensed it. It would not restore her power, but it did ease the physical weariness. Her shoulders straightened and the pallor left her face.
“Thank you,” she said. Standing up, she looked toward the High Lord’s Residence and her shoulders drooped again.
“It won’t be like this forever, Sonea,” he said softly.
She nodded. “Good night, Administrator.”
“Good night, Sonea.”
He watched her as she walked away, hoping that his words would prove true, but wondering how they possibly could.
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