The Novice

preparing to silence the others right now.

Shivering, she realized she would not feel safe until she was back in the Guild, even though it meant living under the same roof as the man who might be the very murderer the slum dwellers feared.

33 The High Lord’s Warning

The sound of birdsong and wind greeted Dannyl as he woke. He opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings, momentarily confused. Stone walls stood on all sides, but there was no roof above. He lay on a thick bed of pulled grass. The air had the feel of morning.

Armje. He was in the ruins of Armje.

Then he remembered the chamber, and the domed ceiling that had attacked him.

So I survived.

He looked down at himself. His robes were charred around the hem. The skin around his calves above where his boots had been was red and stinging. Looking up, he saw his boots standing neatly together a few steps away. They were blistered and charred.

He had come very close to dying, he realized.

Tayend must have taken him out of the cavern to this place. Dannyl looked around, but saw no sign of the scholar. Catching a splash of color on the ground nearby, he recognized Tayend’s blue jacket lying folded beside another bed of grass.

He considered getting up and looking for his friend, but remained on his grass bed. Tayend would not be far away, and he felt an overwhelming reluctance to move. He needed rest - not because his body needed it, but because he needed to recover magically.

Focusing on the source of his power, he found he had almost no magic to draw upon. Normally, he would have slept until at least partially recovered. Perhaps the lingering memory of danger had woken him as soon as he had regained enough strength to pull out of his exhausted slumber. Knowing that he lacked magic should have made him feel vulnerable and uneasy, but instead he felt freer, as if released from something.

Hearing footsteps, he drew himself up onto one elbow. Tayend stepped into the room and smiled when he saw that Dannyl was awake. The scholar’s hair was a little ruffled, but otherwise he still managed to appear well groomed despite having slept on a bed of grass.

“You’re awake at last. I just refilled our flasks. Thirsty?”

Realizing he was, Dannyl nodded. He accepted his flask and drained it.

Tayend crouched beside him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. A bit cooked around the ankles, but nothing worse.”

“What happened?”

Dannyl shook his head. “I was about to ask you that same question.”

“Your part comes first.”

“Very well.” Dannyl described the chamber, and how it had attacked him. Tayend’s eyes widened as he listened.

“After you went in, I kept reading the glyphs,” the scholar said. “The writing said that the door led to a place called the Cavern of Ultimate Punishment, and a little farther I worked out that it was made to execute magicians. I tried to call to you - to warn you - then I heard you call me and you made the lights. Before I could reach the end of the passage, they went out.”

Tayend shivered. “I kept going. When I got to the cavern, you were pressed up against something invisible. Then you fell forward and you didn’t move. I could see more of those lightning things on the walls. I ran forward and grabbed your arms, and pulled you off the platform. The lightning touched it, then everything went dark. I couldn’t see, but I kept pulling you along, into the passage and back outside. Then I carried you here.” He paused, and his mouth curled into a half-smile. “You’re really heavy, by the way.”

“Am I?”

“It’s your height, I’m sure.”

Dannyl smiled, and suddenly felt overwhelmed with affection and gratitude. “You saved my life, Tayend. Thank you.”

The scholar blinked, then smiled self-consciously. “I suppose I did. Looks like I’ve returned the favor. So, do you think the Guild knows about this Cavern of Ultimate Punishment?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Dannyl shook his head. He didn’t want to discuss the Guild, or the cavern. I’m alive, he thought. He looked around, at the trees, the sky, then Tayend. He really is a beautiful man, he thought suddenly, remembering how he had been struck by the scholar’s fine looks that first day, at Capia’s docks. He felt something at the edge of his thoughts, like a memory just out of reach. It grew stronger as he concentrated on it, and he felt a familiar uneasy feeling steal over him. He tried to push it away.

Suddenly he was acutely aware of his lack of magical strength. He frowned, wondering why he had reached for his powers unconsciously. Then realization came. He had been about to use his Healing powers to take away the uneasiness, or at least the physical reaction that had caused it. As I always do, without realizing it.

“What’s wrong?” Tayend asked.

Dannyl shook his head. “Nothing.” But that was a lie. All these years he had been doing this: turning his mind from the thoughts that had caused him so much trouble and anguish, and using his Healing power to stop his body from reacting in the first place.

Memories came rushing back. Memories of being the object of scandal and rumor. He had decided that, if how he felt was so unacceptable, then it was better not to feel at all. And perhaps, with time, he would begin to desire what was right and proper.

But nothing had changed. The moment he lost the ability to Heal, there it was again. He had failed.

“Dannyl?”

Looking at Tayend, Dannyl felt his heart skip. How could he look at his friend, and consider that being like him was a failure?

He couldn’t. He remembered something that Tayend had said. “There is a... a certainty in me about what is natural and right for me that is as strong as his own certainty about what is natural and right.”

What was natural and right? Who really knew? The world was never so simple that one person could have all the answers. He had fought this for so long. What would it be like to stop fighting? To accept what he was.

“You’ve got the strangest look on your face. What are you thinking?”

Dannyl regarded Tayend speculatively. The scholar was his closest friend. Even closer than Rothen, he realized suddenly. He had never been able to tell Rothen the truth. He knew he could trust Tayend. Hadn’t the scholar protected him from the Elyne gossips?

It would be such a relief just to tell someone, Dannyl thought. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, Tayend.”

The scholar’s eyes widened slightly. He sat back on his haunches and smiled. “Really? How so?”

“That novice I befriended years ago. He was exactly what they said he was.”

Tayend’s lips curled into a half-smile. “You never said he wasn’t.”

Dannyl hesitated, then continued. “So was I.”

Watching Tayend’s face, Dannyl was surprised to see the smile change to a grin.

“I know.”

Dannyl frowned. “How could you know? I didn’t even... remember until now.”

“Remember?” Tayend sobered and tilted his head to one side. “How would you forget something like