Regin swallowed. “Her shield failed before we realized it, my lord.”
Lord Yikmo’s eyebrows rose. “It appears you are neither as disciplined nor as skilled as Lord Garrel claims. I’m sure Lord Balkan will agree.” Yikmo’s eyes scanned the group, noting identities. “Get back to your rooms, all of you.”
The novices hurried away. As Lord Yikmo turned to regard her, Sonea wished she’d had the strength to slip away while his attention had been on the novices. He looked very disappointed. She forced her legs under herself and rose unsteadily.
“How long has this been going on?”
She hesitated, not wanting to admit it had happened before. “An hour.”
He shook his head. “The stupidity of these novices. Attack the High Lord’s favorite? In numbers, too.” He looked at her, then sighed. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”
“Please, don’t tell anyone.”
He considered her, frowning. She took a step forward, then swayed as the corridor began to spin. A hand grasped her arm to steady her. She felt a little Healing energy tingle through her arm. As soon as she had regained her sense of balance she brushed his hand from her arm.
“Tell me, did you strike back?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“What use would that be?”
“None, but most people, when outnumbered, will fight back out of pride. But perhaps you refrained for the same reason.”
He regarded her expectantly, but she looked away and remained silent.
“Of course, if you had targeted one or two of the weaker novices, you might have left them as exhausted as you. It would be a discouragement to the others, at the least.”
Sonea frowned. “But they had no inner shields. What if I hurt one of them?”
He smiled, pleased. “That is the answer I want to hear. Yet I think there is more to your reluctance to strike than caution.”
Sonea felt a flare of anger. Once again he was pushing and poking her, prying out her weaknesses. But this was not a lesson. Wasn’t the humiliation of being found by him enough? She wanted him to leave her alone, and thought of the one subject that made most magicians flinch.
“Would you be so eager to strike, if you’d seen a boy die at the hands of magicians?”
His gaze did not waver, but sharpened instead.
“Ah,” he said. “So
She stared at him, appalled. Would he turn even the tragedy of the Purge into another lecture? She felt anger growing, and knew she would not be able to hold her temper much longer.
“Good night, Lord Yikmo,” she said between gritted teeth. Then, turning away, she strode down the passage toward the main corridor.
“Sonea! Come back.”
She ignored him. He called after her again, anger and command in his tone. Fighting the weariness in her legs, she quickened her stride.
As she reached the corridor she felt her fury ebb. He would make her regret her rude departure, but for now she didn’t care. All she wanted was a warm bed and to sleep for days.
28
A Secret Plan
As the door opened, bright sunlight streamed in to dazzle Lorlen’s eyes. He shaded his face with a hand and followed Akkarin onto the University roof.
“We have company,” Akkarin observed.
Following his companion’s gaze, Lorlen saw a lone figure in red robes standing by the railing.
“Lord Yikmo.” Lorlen frowned. “Balkan must have given him access.”
Akkarin made a low, disapproving noise. “There are so many identities imprinted into the door, I wonder why we bother to lock it.”
He strode toward the Warrior. Lorlen hurried after, worried that Akkarin intended to remove Yikmo’s access to the roof.
“Balkan would not have granted him access if he did not regard him highly.”
“Of course. Our Head of Warriors knows that his methods of teaching are not suited to every novice. I’m sure he’s aware that Yikmo draws attention away from his own weaknesses.”
Yikmo hadn’t noticed them approaching. The Warrior leaned on the railing, his attention captured by something below. He looked up when Akkarin was a few steps away, and straightened hastily.
“High Lord. Administrator.”
“Greetings, Lord Yikmo,” Akkarin returned smoothly. “I have not seen you up here before.”
Yikmo shook his head. “I rarely come up - only when I need to think. I’d forgotten how good the view is.”
Lorlen looked around at the grounds, and at the city to one side. Letting his gaze drop to the gardens, he saw that a few novices had ventured outside for the midbreak. Though snow still covered the ground, the sun held a hint of the coming spring warmth.
Closest to them was a familiar figure. Sonea was sitting on one of the garden seats, her head bent over a book.
“The source of my contemplation,” Yikmo admitted.
“Is she improving?” Akkarin asked.
“Not as rapidly as I had hoped,” Yikmo sighed. “She still hesitates to strike. I’m starting to understand why.”
“Oh?”
Yikmo smiled crookedly. “She’s far too nice.”
“How so?”
“She’s worried that she might hurt somebody - even her enemies.” Yikmo frowned and faced the High Lord. “Last night, I discovered Regin and several other novices tormenting Sonea. They had worn her down to near exhaustion, and were using stunstrikes.”
Lorlen felt his heart skip.
“I reminded them of the Guild rules, and sent them to their rooms.”
Yikmo looked at the High Lord expectantly, but Akkarin did not reply. He stared down at Sonea with a gaze so intense that Lorlen wondered how she could not sense it.
“How many novices were there?” he asked.
Yikmo looked aside as he considered. “Twelve or thirteen. I can identify most of them.”
Akkarin nodded. “That won’t be necessary. There is no need to bring further attention to the incident.” His dark gaze turned to the Warrior. “Thank you for informing me of this, Yikmo.”
Yikmo paused as if he might say something more, then nodded and moved away toward the door. When the Warrior had disappeared, Akkarin’s gaze fell to Sonea again. The corners of his lips curled upward slightly.
“Twelve or thirteen. Her strength is growing quickly. I remember a novice in my class whose power grew as fast.”
Lorlen regarded Akkarin closely. In the bright sunlight the High Lord’s pale skin looked sickly. Shadows lay under his eyes, but his gaze was sharp.
“As I recall, you progressed just as quickly.”
“I’ve often wondered if we would have, had we not been constantly trying to outdo each other.”
Lorlen shrugged. “Probably.”
