The High Lord

'Such as?'

'How Lord Coren discovered how to manipulate stone.'

'Anything else?'

That he learned black magic. She didn't want to say it, but Akkarin obviously wanted some sort of acknowledgment of the fact. What would he do if she refused to talk about it? He would probably keep pressing her. She was too tired to think her way around a conversation like that.

'He used black magic. He saw it was wrong,' she said shortly. 'He stopped.'

The corner of his mouth curled up into a half-smile. 'Indeed. I do not think the Guild would like to discover that. The real Coren is not a figure they would want young novices to idolize, even if he redeemed himself in the end.' He held out the books. 'This is a far older record. I have brought an original as well as a copy. The original is deteriorating, so handle it only as much as you need to confirm the copy is true.'

'Why are you showing me these books?'

The question came out before she could stop it. She winced at the insolence and suspicion in her voice. Akkarin's eyes bored into her own and she looked away.

'You want to know the truth,' he said. It was not a question.

He was right. She did want to know. A part of her wanted to ignore the books - to refuse to read them just because he wanted her to. Instead, she stepped forward and took them from him. She did not meet his eyes, though she knew he was watching her closely.

'As with the diary, you should not allow anyone to learn of these records,' he said quietly. 'Do not even allow your servant to see them.'

She backed away and looked down at the cover of the older book. Record of the 235th Year, the cover stated. The book was over five hundred years old! Impressed, she glanced up at Akkarin. He nodded once, knowingly, then turned away. His footsteps echoed down the corridor, then she heard the faint sound of his bedroom door closing.

The books were heavy. She pushed the door closed with a small pulse of magic, and moved to her desk. Pushing aside her notes, she laid the two books side by side.

Opening the original, she gently turned the first pages.

The writing was faint and unreadable in places. Opening the copy, she felt a strange frisson as lines of elegant handwriting appeared. Akkarin's handwriting.

After reading a few lines of the original, she checked them against the copy and confirmed that the two were identical. Akkarin had left notes where the text had faded, outlining what he thought the missing words might be. She turned more pages, checked again, then chose another page from the center of the book and one from near the end. All seemed to match the copy perfectly. Later, she decided, she would check every page and every word.

Putting the original aside, she turned back to the first page of the copy and began to read.

It was a day-by-day record of a Guild much younger and smaller than the current one. After several pages, she had grown fond of the record-keeper, who clearly admired the people he was writing about. The Guild he knew was very different from the one she understood. Magicians took on apprentices in exchange for money or assistance. Then a comment by the author made it clear what that assistance entailed, and she stopped, aghast.

These early magicians strengthened themselves by drawing magic from their apprentices. They used black magic.

She read and reread the passage over and over, but its meaning was clear. They called it 'higher magic.'

She looked at the spine and saw that she was a quarter of the way through the book. Continuing, she found the records gradually focused on the activities of a wayward apprentice, Tagin. It was discovered that the young man had taught himself higher magic against the wishes of his master. Abuses were uncovered. Tagin had taken strength from ordinary folk, which was never done except in times of great need. The record-keeper expressed disapproval and anger, then his tone abruptly changed to fear. Tagin had used higher magic to kill his master.

The situation grew steadily worse. As the magicians of the Guild sought to punish him, Tagin killed indiscriminately to gain the strength to resist them. Magicians reported the slaughter of men, women and children. Whole villages were all but destroyed, with only a few survivors to report the malicious nature of their attacker.

At a knock at her door, she jumped. She quickly closed the books, pushed them spine-first against the wall, and stacked several ordinary study books on top. Drawing her notes back in front of her, she arranged the desk as if she had been studying.

As she willed the door open Takan glided in with her raka. She thanked him, but felt too distracted to ask where Viola was. Once he had left, she gulped a few mouthfuls, then retrieved the records and began reading again:

It is difficult to believe that any man could be capable of such acts of needless violence. Yesterday's attempt to subdue him appears to have sent him into a passion. The last reports say he has slaughtered all in the villages of Tenker and Forei. He is beyond all controlling and I fear for the future of us all. I am amazed that he has not turned on us yet - but perhaps this is his preparation for that final strike.

Sonea sat back in her chair and shook her head in disbelief. She flicked back to the previous page and reread the last entry. Fifty-two magicians, strengthened by their apprentices and the livestock donated by frightened commoners, hadn't been able to defeat Tagin. The next few entries recorded Tagin's seemingly random path through Kyralia. Then came the words Sonea had been dreading:

My worst fears have come to life. Today Tagin killed Lord Gerin, Lord Dirron, Lord Winnel and Lady Ella. Will it end only when all magicians are dead, or will he not be satisfied until all life has been drained from the world? The view from my window is ghastly. Thousands of gorin, enka and reber rot in the fields, their strength given to the defense of Kyralia. Too many to eat...

From there the situation grew worse until over half the magicians in the Guild were dead. Another quarter had already taken their belongings and fled. The remainder were making a valiant effort to save stores of books and medicines.

What if this happened now? The Guild was larger but each magician wielded only a tiny portion of the strength of their long-dead predecessors. If Akkarin did as Tagin had... she shivered and continued reading. The next entry caught her by surprise.

It is over. When Alyk told me the news I dared not believe it, but an hour ago I climbed the stairs of the Lookout and saw the truth with my own eyes. It is true. Tagin is dead. Only he could have created such destruction in his final moments.

Lord Eland called us together and read a letter sent from Indria, Tagin's sister. She told of her intention to poison him. We can only assume that she succeeded.

The record-keeper recounted a slow restoration. The magicians who had left returned. The stores and libraries were set in order again. Sonea mused over the long entries covering the common people's losses and recovery. It appeared the Guild had once been concerned for the wellbeing of ordinary people.

Truly the old Guild was destroyed with Tagin. I have heard some say that a new Guild was born today. The first of the changes occurred this morning when five young men joined us. They are our first 'novices,' apprenticed to all and not one. They will not be taught the higher magics until they have proven themselves trustworthy. If Lord Karron has his way they will never learn them at all.

Support for the ban of what Lord Karron had begun to call 'black' magic increased. Sonea turned a page and found one last entry, followed by blank pages.

I have not the gift of foresight, nor do I pretend to know enough of men and magic to guess the future, but after we made our decision I was gripped by a fear that the Sachakans might rise against us again in the future, and the Guild would be found unprepared. I proposed a secret store of knowledge, to be opened only if the Guild faced certain destruction. The others of my company agreed, for many of my fellows held the same secret fear.

It was decided that the existence of a secret weapon would be known of by the Head of Warriors only. He would not know its nature, but would pass the location down to his successor. I now finish this record here. Tomorrow I will begin a new one. I sincerely hope that nobody will ever open this book and read these words.