The Novice

“There must be a reference to the King of Charkan in there, or my cards would not have led me to this book,” the Dem assured him. “Now, follow me. I believe we have some artifacts, too.”

They followed the Dem out of the bookshelves to several rows of drawers. These, too, were numbered. The old man pulled out a drawer and set it on a nearby table. As he peered inside he gave a low exclamation.

“Ah! That’s right. This was sent to me five years ago. I remember thinking that your High Lord would have wanted to see it.”

Once more Tayend and Dannyl exchanged a glance.

“Akkarin?” Dannyl asked, looking into the box. It contained a silver ring. “Why would he be interested?”

“Because he came to me many years ago looking for information about the King of Charkan. He showed me this symbol.” The Dem held up the ring. Set into it was a dark red gem, and carved into the surface of the gem was a crescent moon next to a crude hand. “But when I sent him a letter telling him what I had received, he replied that he was unable to visit because of his new position.”

Taking the ring, Dannyl examined it closely.

“The person who sent it said that, according to legend, magicians can use it to communicate with each other without fear of being overheard,” the Dem added.

“Really? Who was this generous donor?”

“I don’t know. He - or she - didn’t give their name.” The Dem shrugged. “Sometimes people don’t want their family to know they’ve given something valuable away. In any case, it’s not a true gem. It’s only glass.”

“Try it,” urged a voice at Dannyl’s shoulder.

Dannyl looked at Tayend, surprised. The scholar grinned. “Go on!”

“I’d need to be communicating with another magician,” Dannyl pointed out, as he slipped the ring on his finger. “And have a third to test if he could detect our conversation.”

Dannyl looked down at the ring. He felt nothing to indicate anything magical was happening.

“I can’t sense anything from it.” He pulled it off and gave it back to the Dem. “Perhaps it once held some magical properties, but has lost them over time.”

The old man nodded and put the box away. “The book may be more enlightening. There are chairs over here for reading,” he said, waving them across the room. As they reached the chairs, the woman they had seen earlier arrived with a tray laden with food. Another followed carrying glasses and a bottle of wine. Tayend sat down and began leafing through the history of Ralend of Kemori.

“‘The King of Charkan spoke of his path,’ ” he read. “‘He came by the mountains, stopping to offer gifts at Armje, the city of the moon.’ ” Tayend looked up. “Armje. I’ve heard that name.”

“It is a ruin now,” the Dem said, his mouth still full of savory bun. “Not far from here. I used to climb up there all the time, in my younger days.”

As the Dem began to describe the ruins enthusiastically, Dannyl saw that Tayend wasn’t listening. The scholar’s gaze sharpened as he continued to read the book. Knowing that look, Dannyl smiled. The Dem’s library hadn’t turned out to be the collection of useless oddities that Tayend had been expecting.

In the two weeks since she had first entered the secret passages, Sonea hadn’t once encountered Regin. While she hoped discovery by Lord Yikmo had put off Regin’s allies, she suspected it hadn’t.

She had heard nothing to indicate they had been punished. Yikmo had not mentioned the incident again, and no one else seemed to know of it, so she guessed he had respected her request to keep silent. Unfortunately, this would only give Regin’s allies more confidence that they could harass her and get away with it.

Since Regin had always waylaid her somewhere on the second level, where the library was, she had been careful to exit the secret passages on the lower floor. The previous evening, she saw the first sign that he had worked this out. Entering the main corridor on the lower floor, she had seen a novice standing at the far end and, a few steps later, in the Entrance Hall, came face to face with one of the older boys. Though he hadn’t dared to attack her, he had smiled smugly as she passed.

So this evening she had exited the secret passages on the third level instead. Keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible, she cautiously made her way toward the main corridor.

If she encountered Regin and his friends, she could still run away and escape into the secret passages. If she wasn’t cornered before she could get to an entrance, that is, and if she could get into the passages without them seeing.

Rounding a corner, she glimpsed a flash of brown material around the next turn and felt her heart sink. As she backed away, she heard a faint whisper. Footsteps echoed from the direction she had come. She cursed under her breath and began to run. Darting into a side passage, she collided with a lone novice. A blast of magic hit her shield, but he was alone and she easily pushed him away.

Three turns later she encountered two more novices. They tried to block her path, but gave up after a moment. At the door to a portal room, she was delayed when four novices stepped out to fight her. Pushing past them, she placed a magical lock on the door.

Keep them separated, she thought, Yikmo would approve.

Moving into the inner passages, she hurried toward the nearest portal room. When she was in sight of it, she willed the door to open and close, then quickly retraced her steps.

Still alone, she thought. Slowing to quieten her footsteps, she took a winding path, finally coming to a door to the secret passages. Checking to make sure no one could see, she slipped a hand under a painting and felt the lever.

“She went this way,” a voice called.

Her heart skipped a beat. She yanked the lever down and stumbled through the opening, then pushed the door closed.

Surrounded by darkness, she peered through the peephole, breathing heavily. Through the little hole, she saw several novices pass. Counting them, she felt ill. Twenty novices.

But she had evaded them. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing quietened. A little warm air touched her neck.

Sonea frowned. Warm air?

Then, beneath the sound of her own breathing, she heard another, softer, breath. She spun around and willed a light into existence... then choked down a cry of terror.

Dark eyes bore into hers. His arms were folded across his chest, the incal glinting gold against the black of his robes. His face was set in a disapproving scowl.

Swallowing hard, she edged sideways, but an arm rose to block her path.

“Get out,” he snarled.

She hesitated. Couldn’t he hear the novices? Didn’t he understand that she would be walking into a trap?

“Now!” he snapped. “And don’t enter these passages again.”

Turning, she fumbled with the lock, her hands shaking. Checking the peephole, she was relieved to see the passage outside was clear of witnesses. She stumbled through and felt a whisper of cold air on the back of her neck as the door closed behind her.

For several heartbeats she stood there, shivering. Then she thought of him watching her through the peephole and forced herself to move. As she rounded a corner twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at her in surprise.

“Found her!” someone cried joyfully.

Sonea threw up a shield against the first strikes. She backed away and then, as Regin barked orders for half to circle around and block her escape, turned and ran.

As she fled past the hidden door, she felt shock fall away and anger rising.

Why doesn’t he stop them? Is this my punishment for going where I wasn’t supposed to go? She skidded to a halt as novices leapt out of a side passage and then, throwing up a barrier to hold them there, she dashed down the only other exit.

Won’t people question why he didn’t... but of course, nobody knows he was there but me. Feeling her barrier fail under the onslaught of the novices, she cursed. As she turned a corner she slammed into an invisible wall. She broke the barrier easily and hurried past only to meet another. This, too, fell