The High Lord

He snatched his hand away and took a step back.

This is how he sees me, she thought suddenly. There was no mistaking the desire she had sensed. She felt her own heart racing. All this time, I resisted because I thought it was just me, she thought. And so has he.

She took a step toward him, then another. He watched her intently, frowning. She willed him to see beyond her eyes, to sense her own thoughts, and that she knew his. His eyes widened with surprise as she stepped very close. She felt his hands encircle her arms, then tighten as she rose up on the balls of her feet, and kissed him.

He went very still. Leaning against him, she felt his heart beating quickly. His eyes closed, then he pulled away.

'Stop. Stop this,' he breathed. He opened his eyes and stared at her intently.

Despite the words, his hands still held her arms tightly as if reluctant to let go of her. Sonea searched his face. Had she read him wrong? No, she was sure of what she had sensed.

'Why?'

He frowned. 'This is wrong.'

'Wrong?' she heard herself ask. 'How? We both feel... feel...'

'Yes,' he said softly. He looked away. 'But there is more to consider.'

'Like?'

Akkarin released her arms and took a step back. 'It would not be fair - to you.'

Sonea considered him carefully. 'Me? But—'

'You're young. I am twelve - no, thirteen - years older than you.'

Suddenly his hesitation made sense. 'That is true,' she answered carefully. 'But women in the Houses are matched with older men all the time. Much older men. Some when they're as young as sixteen. I'm nearly twenty.'

Akkarin seemed to struggle with himself. 'I am your guardian,' he reminded her sternly.

She could not help smiling. 'Not any more.'

'But if we return to the Guild—'

'Will we cause a scandal?' She chuckled. 'I think they're getting used to that.' She hoped he would smile at that, but he only frowned. She sobered. 'You speak as if we'll go back and everything will be the same again. Even if we return, nothing will ever be as it was for us. I am a black magician. So are you.'

He winced. 'I am sorry. I should never have—'

'Don't apologize for that,' she exclaimed. 'I chose to learn black magic. And I didn't do it for you.'

Akkarin regarded her silently.

She sighed and turned away. 'Well, this is going to make things awkward.'

'Sonea.'

She looked back and stilled as he stepped closer. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She felt her pulse quicken at the touch.

'Either of us could die in the next few weeks,' he said quietly.

She nodded. 'I know.'

'I'd be happier knowing you were safe.'

Sonea narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled.

'No, I will not start that argument again, but... you test my loyalties, Sonea.'

She frowned, not understanding. 'How?'

He reached out and ran a finger across her brow. 'It doesn't matter.' The corner of his mouth curled upward. 'It's too late, anyway. I started to fail that test the night you killed the Ichani.'

She blinked in surprise. Did that mean...? for that long...?

He smiled. She felt his hands slip around her waist. As he pulled her closer, she decided her questions could wait. She reached up and traced the curl in his lips with the tip of her finger. Then he leaned forward and his mouth met hers, and all questions were forgotten.

25 A Chance Encounter

Gorin, Rothen had discovered, were fnistratingly slow walkers. The enormous beasts were the favorite of merchants, however. They were strong, docile and easy to handle and direct and much more resilient than horses.

But they were impossible to hurry. Rothen sighed and glanced back at Raven, but the spy was dozing among the sacks of cloth in the cart, a wide-brimmed hat covering his face. Rothen allowed himself a smile and turned his attention back to the road. The previous night, they had hired rooms above a bolhouse in a town called Coldbridge. The spy, posing as Rothen's cousin, had drunk more bol than anyone ought to be able to, then spent the night swaying from his bed to the piss drain and back again.

Which probably meant Raven was doing a much better job at playing the part of intrepid merchant than Rothen was. Or am I supposed to be the sensible older cousin?

Rothen adjusted his shirt. The closely fitting garment was much less comfortable than robes. He was grateful for his traveller's hat, however. Though it was early morning, the day was promising to be a hot one.

A haze of dust hung in the air over the road and blurred the horizon. No mountains had appeared in the distance, though he had been travelling for two days. Rothen knew that the road ran near-straight to Calia, where it split into two. Turn left and it took you north to the Fort; turn right and you headed northeast to the South Pass. That was where he and Raven were headed.

It seemed strange to be travelling northeast to a southern pass, Rothen mused. The route was probably named for its location in the mountains, not for its general position in Kyralia. He had come close to it once, while visiting his son during the summer break five years ago.

He frowned as he thought of Dorrien. His son was watching the road to the Pass, and a meeting was inevitable. Rothen would have to explain where he was going, and why, and Dorrien wasn't going to like it.

He will probably try to join us. Rothen snorted quietly. That's an argument I'm not looking forward to.

It would be several days before he faced his son, however. Raven had said it took six or seven days to reach the South Pass by cart. By then Sonea will have been in Sachaka for fifteen days, Rothen thought. If she stays alive that long.

He had been relieved to hear from Lorlen that Akkarin had contacted the Higher Magicians, now five days ago. Sonea had been alive. Lorlen had also described an overheard discussion between two Sachakans that disturbed Rothen greatly. Whether the strangers were Ichani or not, they clearly wanted Akkarin and Sonea dead.

'They called them 'the Kyralians,' ' Lorlen had said. 'I hope this doesn't mean they'll treat all Kyralians entering Sachaka the same way. Kyralian merchants have been making the journey to and from Arvice safely for years, though, and say they see no reason why that might have changed recently. Just be careful.'

'Someone's approaching,' Raven said. 'From behind us.'

Rothen glanced at the spy. The man shifted slightly, and one eye appeared beneath the brim of his hat. Looking down the road, Rothen realized that he could see movement beyond the dust stirred up by their passing. Horses and riders emerged from the cloud, and Rothen felt his pulse quicken.

'Magicians,' he said. 'Balkan's reinforcements for the Fort.'

'Better move to one side of the road,' Raven advised. 'And keep your head down. You don't want them recognizing you.'

Rothen pulled gently on the reins. The gorin tossed their heads halfheartedly, and slowly moved to the left