The High Lord

Akkarin had used it to free himself, and only killed the spies to keep Kyralia safe. That was not an abuse of power. It was reasonable to kill to protect oneself, and others... wasn't it?

As a child surviving in the slums, she had decided that she would not hesitate to kill to defend herself. If she could avoid harming another, she would, but she was not going to let herself become a victim either. That determination had paid off a few years later when she had fended off an attacker with her knife. She didn't know if he had lived, and she had not spared much time wondering.

The Warriors learned how to fight with magic. The Guild continued passing on that knowledge in case the Allied Lands should ever be attacked. She never heard Lord Balkan agonizing over whether magic should be used to kill in defense.

She lay back on the bed. Perhaps Akkarin was wrong about the Guild. Perhaps, when faced with no choice, they would accept the use of black magic only in defense.

Would magicians respect that restriction? She shivered as she imagined what Lord Fergun might have done with the knowledge. Fergun had been punished, though. As a whole, the Guild could probably keep control of its magicians.

Then she remembered the Purge. If the King did not balk at using the Guild to drive the poor from the city to keep the Houses happy, what might he do with black magicians at his bidding?

The Guild would always be cautious about how black magic was used. If laws were put in place, if only those deemed worthy were taught - determined by a truth-read to test a candidate's character and moral integrity...

Who am I to think I have the wisdom to reshape the Guild? I probably wouldn't even be considered as a candidate if this system was in place.

She was the slum girl. Naturally, she had no moral integrity. No one would even consider her.

I am considering me.

Rising, she moved to the window.

The people I care about are in danger. I have to do something. Surely the Guild will not execute me if I break a law trying to protect it. They may expel me, but if I must lose this luxury called magic in exchange for the lives of those I love, so be it.

She shivered, chilled by and yet sure of the rightness of this revelation.

There, it is decided. I will learn black magic.

She turned to regard the door of her room. Akkarin was probably in bed. She could not wake him up just to tell him this. It could wait until tomorrow.

Sighing, she slipped under the covers of her bed. She closed her eyes, hoping she would finally be able to sleep now that she had made her decision.

Am I being deceived? Once I learn this, I can't unlearn it.

She considered the books Akkarin had given her to read. They looked genuine, but they could have been clever fakes. She did not know enough about forgery to be able to tell.

The spy could have been manipulated to believe certain things in order for her to be deceived, but she was sure Akkarin could not have invented it all. Tavaka's mind had held a lifetime's worth of memories of the Ichani and slavery that could not have been arranged by the High Lord.

And Akkarin's story?

If he wanted to trick her into learning black magic so he could blackmail and control her, then he had only needed to convince her that the Guild was in great danger. Why admit to having been a slave?

She yawned. She must get some sleep. She needed a clear head.

Tomorrow she was going to break one of the Guild's strictest laws.

The room was too small for pacing. A single lamp hung from the roof, casting yellow light on the rough brick walls. Cery crossed his arms and silently cursed himself. Akkarin had told him they must avoid meeting unless they had to discuss something of great concern that could only be settled face to face.

Sonea's welfare is of great concern, Cery reasoned. And this can only be settled face to face.

But it was unlikely the High Lord would agree. Cery felt another twinge of anxiety. So far, he hadn't regretted any of the work he had done in return for being rescued from Lord Fergun, and for the assistance he'd received from Akkarin in establishing his place among the Thieves. Tracking the murderers was easy enough. Once you knew what to look for, they stood out like a guard in a smuggler's den. Getting rid of the bodies afterward was standard work, though dumping them in the river was out of the question now the Guard were keeping an eye on it.

But bringing Sonea into it? No, that was too much. Not that Cery could make the decision for her. But, at the very least, he wanted to make sure Akkarin knew he disapproved.

The High Lord needed him. He was sure of that. Perhaps today he would discover how much.

Cery drummed his fingers against his sleeve. If the High Lord ever arrives. There were few men in the city who would dare to be late to a meeting with a Thief. None but... the King, most in the Houses, the entire Guild...

He sighed, then considered once again the only other piece of information he had for the Guild leader: that another Sachakan had been seen entering the city. Perhaps this little tidbit would mollify Akkarin when he discovered Cery's real reason for requesting a meeting. Not for the first time, Cery wondered what Akkarin's reaction would be if he knew the source of the information. He chuckled as he pictured Savara. That smile. The way she walked. She was definitely not a safe person to be around.

But, then, neither was he these days.

A tap brought him back to the present. He peered through a spy hole in the door. A tall figure stood beside Gol's heavier frame, his face concealed in the hood of his cloak. Gol made the signal to confirm the visitor was the High Lord.

Cery drew in a deep breath, then opened the door. Akkarin stalked inside. The cloak parted slightly to reveal black robes beneath. A shiver ran down Cery's spine. Akkarin usually wore plain clothing when he was on the Thieves' Road. Was this a deliberate move to remind Cery just who he was dealing with?

'Ceryni,' Akkarin said, smoothly tugging the hood from his head.

'High Lord.'

'I do not have much time to spare. What is it you need to speak to me about?'

Cery hesitated. 'I think we've got another... murderer, in the city.' He had been about to say 'slave,' but caught himself in time. Using that term would no doubt reveal that he'd been in contact with someone from Sachaka.

Akkarin frowned, his eyes almost disappearing in the shadows of his brows. 'You think?'

'Yes.' Cery smiled. 'There's been no murder yet, but the last killer arrived so soon after the one before, I have been paying some ear to talk I don't usually. Word is, she stands out. Should be easy to catch.'

'She?' Akkarin repeated. 'A woman. So... if the Thieves hear this they'll know there is more than one murderer. Will this be a problem for you?'

9 Akkarin's Helper

Cery shrugged. 'It won't change anything. They might even give a little more respect. Better we catch her quick, though, so they don't find out at all.'

Akkarin nodded. 'Is that all?'

Cery hesitated. He drew in a deep breath and pushed aside his doubts.

'You brought Sonea.'

Akkarin straightened. The lamplight reached his eyes. He looked amused.

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'I had my reasons.'