The High Lord

'Another two are on the other side of the alley,' Faren told her. 'There's a hole in each wall, filled with false mortar. One of our fake magicians will lure the Ichani into the alley. When he reaches the right place, the men will skewer him.'

Sonea stared at him in disbelief. 'That's your plan? It will never work. The Ichani's shield will protect him.'

'Maybe he'll get lazy, and think the walls are enough protection.'

'Maybe,' she said, 'but there's only a slim chance he will. You're taking a terrible risk.'

'Do you think our helpers don't know that?' Faren said quietly. 'They know there's a good chance it won't work. They're just as determined to fight these Sachakans as you are.'

She sighed. Of course the dwells wanted to fight, even if it meant taking enormous risks. 'Well, if it doesn't work, I should be down there to—'

'Too late,' Faren's second said. 'Look.'

Moving to the street-side window, Sonea saw that the Ichani and his slaves were approaching. A group of youths ran out in front of them from the other side of the street and began throwing stones. As the Ichani stepped toward them, Sonea heard a muffled shout and saw a, robed man walk out into the street from somewhere directly below her. He strode toward the Ichani, then stopped at the alley entrance. As the Ichani saw the fake magician, he smiled.

A strike flashed through the air. The fake magician dodged, narrowly avoiding it. He dashed into the alley.

Sonea hurried to the side window. The two men with the spear were poised and ready. Surely it wouldn't work... but if it did... She felt a stab of alarm as she realized what would happen.

'Faren, I have to get down there.'

'There's not enough time,' he told her. 'Watch.'

The Ichani strode into the alley. The robed man had stopped. Sonea could see the faint flare of a barrier blocking his path. When the Ichani was a step away from the hidden men, the fake magician yelled something. The spears burst through the wall...

... and sank deep into the Ichani's body. The Sachakan yelled in surprise and pain.

'It worked!' Faren crowed. Sonea heard similar triumphant cries from outside, muffled through the window. She shuddered in sympathy as she saw the agony in the Ichani's face. As he began to sag against the spears, she knew she would never have time to get to him before he died.

Nevertheless, she smashed the window and yelled at the men below.

'Get away from him!'

They stared up at her in surprise.

Then everything went white.

She threw a shield around herself, Faren and his second. A moment later, the wall of the room exploded inward. Searing heat radiated through her shield, forcing her to strengthen it further. She felt the floor tilt and drop away, and the sensation of falling. As she landed, she tumbled to her knees.

Then the released magic of the dead Ichani abruptly ended. She found she was crouched on top of a pile of bricks and smoking wood. Standing up, she saw she was surrounded by a circle of ruins.

Everything for a hundred paces in any direction was now charred, smoking rubble. Sonea looked toward the alley, but there was no sign of the men who had wielded the spears. She felt a terrible sadness. I could have saved them, had I known what they'd planned.

Faren and his second climbed to their feet. They stared at the destruction around them in dismay.

'Cery said something like this might happen,' Faren said. 'He said everyone should get away as quick as they could. He didn't say it would reach this far.'

'What happened?' his second asked in a small voice.

Sonea tried to speak, but her throat was too tight. She swallowed and tried again. 'What always happens when a magician dies,' she managed. 'Any magic he or she has left is released.'

He looked at her with wide eyes. 'Will... will that happen to you, too?'

'I'm afraid so. Unless I'm exhausted, or the Ichani take all my power.'

'Oh.' The man shivered and looked away.

'We were lucky you were here,' Faren said quietly. 'If you hadn't been, we'd be like those slaves down there.'

Sonea followed his gaze to the street. Several dark shapes lay on the ground. She shuddered. At least their deaths had been quick.

Faren chuckled. 'Well, we don't have to figure out what to do with them now, do we?'

'Help me!'

Dannyl looked up, startled out of his daze by the plea. Lord Osen was standing within a gaping hole in the side of a house. He was covered in dust, and his face was streaked with tears.

'Lorlen is buried,' Osen gasped. 'Do either of you have any strength left?'

Dannyl glanced at Farand, then shook his head.

'Then... then at least help me dig him out.'

They followed Osen into the house. A huge mound of rubble filled the inside. Light streamed down through dust. Looking up, Dannyl saw that the floor above, and the roof, were missing.

'He's here, I think,' Osen said, stopping near the half buried front door. He dropped to his knees and began digging with his bare hands.

Dannyl and Farand joined him. There was nothing else they could do. They tossed rubble aside, but their progress was slow. Dannyl cut himself as he encountered shards of broken glass in the dust. He was just beginning to wonder how anyone could have survived being this thoroughly buried, when the whole mound suddenly shifted. Bricks, wooden beams and shattered glass began to roll back toward the far wall of the house.

Osen shook his head as if to clear it, then looked around the room. His eyes snapped to a point somewhere behind Dannyl, then widened.

Twisting around, Dannyl saw that a figure stood within the hole in the side wall of the house, silhouetted against the bright light outside. He could see that the man wore plain clothes, but the stranger's face was hidden in shadow.

The sound of shifting rubble dwindled to silence.

'You came back.'

This voice was familiar but weak. Dannyl turned back and felt his heart fill with hope as he saw that Lorlen had been uncovered. The Administrator's robes were covered in dust. His face was bruised, but his eyes were bright.

'Yes. I came back.'

Dannyl sucked in a breath as he recognized the voice. He turned to stare at Akkarin. The exiled magician moved into the room.

'No!' Lorlen said. 'Don't come... any closer.'

Akkarin stopped. 'You are dying, Lorlen.'

'I know.' Lorlen's breathing was labored. 'I won't... I won't have you waste your power on me.'

Akkarin took another step. 'But it—'

'Stop.Or I'll be dead before you can reach me,' Lorlen gasped. 'Just a little power left, keeping me conscious. All I have to do is use it up faster.'

'Lorlen,' Akkarin said. 'It would only take a little magic. Just enough to keep you alive until—'

'Until the Ichani come to finish me off.' Lorlen's eyes closed. 'I was a Healer, remember. I know what it would take to fix me. Too much magic. You will need everything to stop them.' He opened his eyes and stared at Akkarin. 'I understand why you did it. Why you lied to me. Kyralia's safety was more important than our friendship. It still is. I only want to know one thing. Why didn't you answer when I called you?'

'I couldn't,' Akkarin said. 'If the Guild knew I was here, the Ichani would read it from the mind of their first victim. They would stay together. Alone, they are vulnerable.'

'Ah,' Lorlen smiled faintly. 'I see.'

His eyes closed again. Akkarin took another step toward his friend. Lorlen's eyes fluttered open.

'No, you don't,' he whispered. 'Stay there. Tell me... tell me about Sonea.'