Chapter 32

A Little Side Trip

Rothen yawned as he climbed the stairs of the Magicians' Quarters. Even a cold bath hadn't done much to wake him up. He found Tania waiting for him in his guestroom, laying out plates of cakes and buns.

"Good morning, Tania," he said.

"You're a little late this morning, my lord," she replied.

"Yes." He rubbed his face, then started making sumi. Realizing she was still watching him, he sighed. "I've cut down to a tenth of the dosage."

She didn't say anything, just nodded approvingly. "I have some news." She paused, and when he gestured for her to continue, she grimaced apologetically. "You won't like it."

"Go on."

The University cleaners were complaining this morning that some foul-smelling liquid was splattered all over one of the passages. I asked them what they thought had happened, and they started grumbling about novices fighting each other. They were a bit reluctant to say which novices—reluctant to say in front of me, that is. So I bribed it out of one of the serving girls who had already heard the story.

"Regin has been gathering together other novices and waylaying Sonea at night. I asked Viola about it, and she said she hadn't seen anything to suggest that Sonea had been harmed at all."

Rothen frowned. "It would take a lot to wear Sonea out." He felt a spark of anger as he realized what this meant. "Once she had, though, Regin could do anything to her. She'd be too tired to even fight him off physically."

Tania drew in a sharp breath. "He wouldn't dare hurt her, would he?"

"Not in any way that would do lasting damage, or have him expelled." Rothen scowled at the table.

"Why doesn't the High Lord put a stop to it—or hasn't he heard about it? Perhaps you should tell him."

Rothen shook his head. "He knows. It's his place to know."

"But—" Tania stopped at a knock on the door. Relieved at the interruption, Rothen willed it open. A messenger stepped inside, bowed, and handed Rothen a letter, before retreating from the room again.

"It's for Sonea." Rothen turned the letter over and felt his heart skip. "It's from her aunt and uncle."

Tania moved closer. "Don't they know she isn't living in your rooms anymore?"

"No. Sonea thought Regin might get hold of her mail if it came to her in the Novices' Quarters, and she probably hasn't contacted them since she moved to the residence."

"Would you like me to take it to her?" Tania offered.

Rothen looked up, surprised. It was easy to forget that others had no reason to fear Akkarin. "Would you?"

"Of course. I haven't spoken to her in such a long time."

Akkarin might grow suspicious if he saw Rothen's servant delivering a message to Sonea, however. "She'll want to read this as soon as possible. If you deliver it to her room, she won't get it until tonight. I think she spends Freedays in the Novices' Library. Could you give it to Lady Tya?"

"Yes." Tania took the letter and slipped it into the front of her uniform. "I'll drop by the library after dropping these dishes off at the kitchen."

"Agh! My legs hurt!" Tayend complained.

Dannyl laughed quietly as the scholar collapsed onto a boulder to rest. "You wanted to visit the ruins. It wasn't my idea."

"But Dem Ladeiri made them sound so interesting." Tayend pulled out his flask and drank a few mouthfuls of water. "And closer."

"He just neglected to say we'd have to scale a few cliffs to get here. Or that the rope bridge wasn't safe."

"Well, I suppose he did tell us it had been a long time since he had come up here. Levitation must really come in handy at times."

"At times."

"Why aren't you breathing hard?"

Dannyl smiled. "Levitation isn't the only useful trick the Guild teaches us."

"You're healing yourself?" Tayend threw a small stone at him. "That's cheating!"

"Then I assume you would refuse my assistance if I offered it."

"No, I feel it would be only fair that I have the same advantage as you."

Dannyl sighed in mock resignation. "Give me your wrist, then." To his surprise, Tayend offered his arm without hesitation, but as Dannyl placed his palm against the scholar's skin, Tayend looked away and closed his eyes tightly.

Sending a little Healing magic into Tayend's body, Dannyl soothed the stressed muscles. Most Healers would frown at this waste of magic. There was nothing wrong with Tayend, he was simply unused to the strain of trekking across mountainous territory.

As Dannyl released Tayend's arm, the scholar stood and looked down at himself.

"That is amazing!" he exclaimed. "I feel like I did this morning, before we left." He grinned at Dannyl, then began striding up the path. "Come on, then. We haven't got all day."

Bemused, Dannyl followed. Only a few hundred paces on, Tayend reached a rise and slowed to a stop. As Dannyl caught up with the scholar, the ruins came into view. Spread over a gentle slope were low walls, marking the outlines of buildings. Here and there an ancient column had survived, and at the center of the small deserted city a larger, roofless structure still stood intact, its walls constructed of huge slabs of stone. Grass and other vegetation grew over and around everything.

"So this is Armje," Tayend muttered. "Not much left."

"It is over a thousand years old."

"Let's take a closer look."

The path, as it curved around to meet the city, widened into a grassy road. As it reached the first of the buildings it straightened, leading to the large building. Dannyl and Tayend paused to examine some of the exposed rooms of the smaller buildings.

"Do you think this was some kind of public washroom?" Tayend asked at one point, standing by a stone bench that had holes cut into it at regular intervals.

"Perhaps some kind of kitchen," Dannyl replied. "The holes might have held pots over a fire or brazier."

When they reached the large structure at the center, Dannyl noticed a stillness in the air. They passed beneath a heavy lintel into a wide room. The floor was hidden beneath dirt and waist-high grass and herbs.

"I wonder what this place was," Tayend mused aloud. "Something important. A palace, perhaps. Or a temple."

Moving into a smaller room, Tayend suddenly darted to one side. He peered at the wall, which was carved with a complex pattern.

"There are words in this," he said. "Something about laws."

Dannyl looked closer, then felt his heart skip a beat as he saw a carved hand. "Look."

"That's the glyph for magic," Tayend said dismissively.

"A hand is the sign for magic in ancient Elyne?"

"Yes—and it is in many ancient writings. Some scholars believe that the modern letter 'm' is derived from the symbol of a hand."

"So half of the Charkan King's title indicates magic. What does the crescent moon mean, then?"

Tayend shrugged and moved farther into the ruin. "Moon magic. Night magic. Does magic ever follow the cycles of the moon?"

"No."

"Perhaps it has something to do with women. Women's magic. Wait—look at this!"

Tayend had stopped before another carved wall. He was pointing at a section high up where some of the stone had fallen away, leaving only part of the carving behind. Then Dannyl drew in a sharp breath. The scholar wasn't pointing at one of the carved glyphs. He was pointing at a familiar name written in modern lettering.

"Dem Ladeiri didn't mention anything about Akkarin coming up here," Tayend said.

"Perhaps he forgot. Perhaps Akkarin didn't tell him."

"But he really wanted us to come here."

Dannyl stared at the name, then looked at the rest of the wall. "What does the ancient writing say?"

Tayend looked closer. "Give me a minute …"

As the scholar examined the glyphs, Dannyl stepped back and looked around the room. Below Akkarin's name was a relief carving of an archway. Or was it? He scuffed the dirt and grass away from the base and smiled as he uncovered a crack.

Tayend drew in a sharp breath. "According to this, this is a—"

"Door," Dannyl finished.

"Yes!" Tayend tapped the wall. "And it leads to a place of judgment. I wonder if it can still be opened."

Looking at the door, Dannyl extended his senses. He detected a simple mechanism, designed to be opened from the inside only—or by magic.

"Stand back."

As Tayend moved out of the way, Dannyl exerted his will. The mechanism turned reluctantly, straining against the dirt, dust and grass clogging the doorway. A loud rumble and scraping noise filled the room as the stone door swivelled inward, revealing a dark passage.

When the door had opened wide enough for a man to slip through sideways, Dannyl released the mechanism, afraid he would do lasting damage if he forced it farther. He exchanged a look with Tayend.

"Shall we go in?" the scholar whispered.

Dannyl frowned. "I will go first. It might be unstable."

Tayend looked as if he would protest, but seemed to change his mind. "I'll continue translating this."

"I'll come back as soon as I know it's safe."

"You'd better."

As Dannyl slipped through the door, he willed a globe light into existence and sent it ahead. The walls were unadorned. At first he had to brush aside fine cascades of roots and faren webs, but after twenty steps the way was clear. The floor sloped downward slightly, and the air grew rapidly colder.

There were no side passages. The roof was low and soon Dannyl felt a familiar uneasiness stealing over him. Counting his steps, he had passed two hundred when the walls ended. The floor continued, however, as a narrow ledge leading into utter darkness. Cautiously, he stepped out on this ledge, ready to levitate if it should collapse under his feet. From the way his footsteps echoed, the drop on either side was considerable.

The ledge widened to form a circular platform after about ten paces. Willing his globe light to brighten, Dannyl gasped as the light reflected off a glittering dome. The surface sparkled and shimmered as if covered by innumerable gem-stones.

"Tayend!" he called. "Come look at this!" Glancing back at the black opening of the passage, Dannyl flexed his will, creating small globe lights along the length of it.

Something shifted in the corner of his eye. He turned to see that a section of the dome was glittering brighter than the rest. Rivulets of light appeared, shivering toward each other. Staring in fascination, he watched as they raced to meet. It looked like the Arena barrier when it had been struck, except in reverse …

Some instinct warned him and he threw up a shield just in time to meet the streak of power from the dome. He exclaimed in surprise at the strength of it—then again in shock as he felt another attack from behind. Turning, he saw a second starburst of power in the stones … and two more rapidly forming.

He took a step toward the passage entrance, then another, and felt the sting of a barrier blocking his way. What is going on! Who is doing this?

But there was nobody else here. Only Tayend. Dannyl looked at the passage, but it was empty. As more attacks came, Dannyl spread his hands before the barrier and sent out a bolt of magic. The barrier held. Perhaps, if he put all his strength into it… but he needed power to shield.

He felt panic rising. Every strike tired him further. He had no idea how long this attack would continue. If he waited, this place—this trap—might kill him.

Think! he told himself. The strikes from the walls were directed at a point above the center of the platform. If he squeezed himself up against the barrier, the strikes might miss him when his shield failed. And if he let his shield drop and put all his power into breaking the barrier it might fall before the next strike hit.

It was all he could think of. He had no time to come up with a better idea. Closing his eyes, he ignored the sting of magic as he pushed up against the barrier. He drew in a breath, then simultaneously dropped his shield and blasted out all his power.

He felt the barrier waver. At the same time, he was conscious of the last of his strength leaving him. He braced himself for pain, but instead felt himself falling. He opened his eyes, but all he could see was darkness … a darkness he continued to fall into long after he ought to have hit the ground …

"Lady Sonea."

Looking up, Sonea felt her heart skip. "Tania!"

As the servant smiled, fond memories of early morning chats brought an ache of longing. Sonea patted the seat next to her, and Tania sat down.

"How are you?" Tania asked. Something about the way the servant looked at Sonea suggested she didn't expect a favorable answer.

"Well." Sonea forced a smile.

"You look tired."

Sonea shrugged. "Too many late nights. There's so much to learn now. How are you? Is Rothen keeping you run off your feet?"

Tania chuckled. "He's no trouble, though he misses you terribly."

"I miss him, too—and you."

"I have a letter for you, my lady," Tania said. She drew it out of her clothes and put it on the table. "Rothen said it was from your aunt and uncle and said you might want to read it straightaway, so I offered to deliver it to you here."

Sonea picked up the letter eagerly. "Thank you." She tore it open and began to read. The script was formal and stilted. Since her aunt and uncle could not write, they would hire a scribe whenever they wanted to send her a letter.

"My aunt is going to have another child!" Sonea exclaimed. "Oh, I wish I could see them."

"Of course you can," Tania said. "The Guild isn't a prison, you know."

Sonea considered the woman. Of course, Tania didn't know about Akkarin. But Akkarin had never said that he forbade family visits. Nor had he told her she must never leave the Guild. The guards at the gate wouldn't stop her. She could just walk out into the city and go where she pleased. Akkarin wouldn't like it, but since he had forced her out of the secret passages and left her at the mercy of Regin's gang, she hadn't cared too much about being cooperative.

"You're right," Sonea said slowly. "I'll visit them. I'll visit them today."

Tania smiled. "I'm sure they'll be delighted to see you again."

"Thank you, Tania," Sonea said, rising. The servant bowed and, still smiling, walked away toward the library door.

Packing her books back into her box, Sonea felt a growing excitement, but as she considered where she was going, she sobered again. She could move through the city easily. Nobody would think twice about the presence of a magician on the streets, not even a novice. But once in the slums her robes would draw attention, possibly hostile attention. It was a problem she hadn't needed to consider on her previous visits because she hadn't been a novice then. While she could protect herself from any missiles or harassment with magic, she did not want to be followed around, or draw that sort of attention to her aunt and uncle.

The law said she must wear the uniform at all times, however. She was not too worried about breaking the law, but where was she going to change into the sort of shabby clothing that would disguise her in the slums, even if she managed to find some?

She could buy a coat or cloak from the Market when she got to the North Quarter. For that, however, she needed money, and she kept her money in her room in the High Lord's Residence. Looking down at her box, she reconsidered her plan. Was she going to let her fear of Akkarin stop her from visiting her family? No. He was rarely in the residence during the day. She probably wouldn't encounter him.

Picking up her box, she bowed to Lady Tya and left the library. As she walked through the passages of the University, she smiled. She would buy a present for her aunt and uncle, too—and she might drop by Gollin's inn to see Harrin and Donia afterward, and ask after Cery.

As she entered the High Lord's Residence, she felt her heartbeat quicken. To her relief, Akkarin was not inside, and Takan, his servant, appeared only long enough to give her a respectful bow and disappear again. Leaving her box, she tucked a money bag into her robes and left her room. When the door of the residence shut behind her, she straightened her back and headed for the gates.

The gate guards glanced at her with curiosity as she passed between them. They had probably never seen her before, since she had only left the Guild a few times in a carriage with Rothen. Perhaps it was simply odd to see a novice leaving on foot.

Once in the Inner Circle, she felt strangely out of place. Looking up at the grand homes that lined the streets, strong memories returned of her few visits to this part of the city years before, to deliver repaired shoes and clothing to servants of the Houses. During those visits the well-dressed men and women of the Inner Circle had regarded her with suspicion and disdain, and she had been forced to show her token of admission several times.

Now those people smiled and bowed politely as she passed them. It felt strange and unreal. The feeling increased as she passed through the gates into the North Quarter. The gate guards stopped and saluted, and even stopped a carriage of House Korin so she could pass without delay.

Once in the North Quarter, polite bows and smiles changed to stares. After several hundred paces, Sonea changed her mind about visiting the Market. Instead, she stepped up to a house advertising "Quality Clothing and Alterations."

"Yes?" A gray-haired woman answered the door and, upon seeing a young magician on her doorstep, she gasped with astonishment. "My lady! What can I do for you?" she asked, bowing hastily.

Sonea smiled. "I would like to buy a cloak, please."

"Come in! Come in!" The woman opened the door wide and bowed again as Sonea stepped inside. She ushered Sonea into a room, where racks of clothing hung all around the room.

"I'm not sure if I have anything good enough," the woman said apologetically, as she lifted several cloaks from the racks. "This one has limek fur around the hood, and that one has a beaded hem."

Unable to resist, Sonea inspected the cloaks. "This is good work," she said of the beaded cloak. "I doubt this fur is limek, however. Limek have a double coat."

"Oh dear!" the woman exclaimed, snatching the cloak back.

"But they're not what I'm looking for, anyway," Sonea added. "I need something old and a bit worn—not that I expected to find anything of low quality here. Do any of your servants have a cloak that looks as if it ought to be thrown out any day?"

The woman stared at Sonea in surprise. "I don't know …" she said doubtfully.

"Why don't you ask them now," Sonea suggested, "while I admire some of your work."

"If that's what you want…" Curiosity had crept into the woman's gaze now. She bowed, then disappeared into the house calling a servant's name.

Moving to the hangers, Sonea looked at some of the clothing. She sighed wistfully. With the law restricting her to robes, she was never likely to wear anything like this, even though she could now afford to.

Hearing hurried footsteps approaching, she turned to see the seamstress enter the room, her arms laden with clothing.

A servant followed her in, looking pale and harassed. Seeing Sonea, the girl's eyes widened.

Looking over the cloaks, Sonea chose one with a long, neatly repaired rip down one side. The hem had come unstitched from the lining, too. She looked at the serving girl.

"Is there a garden here? Perhaps a poultry yard?"

The girl nodded.

"Take this cloak and rub the hem in some dirt for me— and throw a little dust over it."

Looking bemused, the girl disappeared with the cloak. Sonea pressed a gold coin into the seamstress' hand, then as the servant returned with the soiled cloak, slipped a silver into the girl's pocket.

Who would have thought I'd end up using my pick-pocketing skills to give money away rather than steal it? she mused as she left the house. With the cloak covering her robes, she received no more stares as she continued toward the Northern Gates.

The guards gave her only a cursory glance as she entered the slums. They were more concerned about dwells leaving the slums than who was going in. A smell, both unpleasant and comfortingly familiar, enveloped her as she moved into the winding streets. Looking around, she felt herself relax a little. Here, Regin and Akkarin seemed like distant, petty worries.

Then she noted a man eyeing her from the door of a bolhouse and tensed again. This was still the slums, and though she could protect herself with magic, it would be better to avoid having to. Keeping alert and within the shadows, she made her way quickly along the streets and alleys.

Jonna and Ranel now lived in a more prosperous part of the slums, where the residents lived in sturdy wooden houses. She slipped into a Market to buy some blankets and a basket filled with vegetables and fresh bread. She wished she could buy something more luxurious, but Jonna had always refused such gifts, saying: "I don't want anything with the look of the Houses in my home. People will get strange ideas about us."

As she arrived at the street her family lived in, she tossed a few savory buns to a small gang of boys sitting on some empty crates at the corner. They called out their thanks. She realized she hadn't enjoyed herself so much for months.

Not since Dorrien visited, she thought suddenly. But best not to think of Dorrien.

Reaching the house of her aunt and uncle, she sobered. Since she joined the Guild, they had been uneasy and awkward. They had witnessed her lose Control of her powers over a year before, and Sonea would not have been surprised if they were still afraid of her. But she knew that she would never overcome their fear or awkwardness if she didn't keep visiting them. They were still her only family and she was not going to let them disappear from her life.

She knocked. A moment later, the door opened and Jonna stared at her in surprise.

"Sonea!"

Sonea grinned. "Hello, Jonna."

Jonna pushed open the door. "You look different… but I see what you've done with the cloak. Is that legal?"

Sonea snorted. "Who cares? I got your letter today, and had to see you. Here, I brought you a present to celebrate."

Handing over the basket and blankets, Sonea moved into the small, simply furnished guestroom. Ranel stepped into the room and laughed with delight.

"Sonea! How's my little niece?"

"Well. Happy," Sonea lied. Don't think about Akkarin. Don't spoil the afternoon.

Ranel hugged her. "Thank you for the money," he murmured.

Sonea smiled and started to take off the cloak, then thought better of it. Seeing a cot at one side of the room, she moved over to it and looked down at her sleeping cousin.

"He's growing well," she said. "No problems?"

"No, just a bit of a cough," Jonna said, smiling. She patted her belly. "We're hoping for a girl this time."

As they talked, Sonea was relieved to find them more relaxed in her presence. They ate some of the bread, played with the baby when he woke, and discussed names for the next one. Ranel told Sonea news about old friends and acquaintances, and other events that had concerned the slum dwellers.

"We weren't in the city, but we heard when the Purge happened," Ranel said, sighing. He glanced at her. "Did you… ?" he asked reluctantly.

"No." Sonea scowled. "Novices don't go. I… I guess it was stupid, but I thought they wouldn't have one, after what happened last year. Perhaps, when I've graduated …" She shook her head. What will I do? Talk them out of it? As if they 'd listen to a slum girl.

She sighed. She was still a long way from ever being able to help the people she had once felt she belonged among. The idea of persuading the Guild to stop the Purge seemed naive and ridiculous now, as did the hope that they'd ever offer Healing to the dwells.

"What else have we got in here?" Jonna said, poking among the vegetables in the basket. "Are you staying for dinner, Sonea?"

Sonea straightened in alarm. "What time is it?" Looking through one of the high, narrow windows, she saw that the light outside was subdued and golden. "I'll have to go back soon."

"You be careful going home," Ranel said. "You don't want to run into this murderer everyone's talking about."

"He won't be any rub for Sonea," Jonna said, chuckling.

Sonea smiled at her aunt's confidence. "What murderer?"

Rand's eyebrows rose. "I'd have thought you'd have known about it already. Been all over the city." He grimaced. "They say the murderer isn't one of the Thieves—I've heard the Thieves are out for him. Had no luck, though."

"I can't see him evading the Thieves for long," Sonea mused.

"But it's been going on for months," Ranel said. "And some dwells say they remember similar killings happening a year ago, and before that."

"Does anyone know what he looks like?"

"Stories are all different. But most say he wears a ring with a big red gem." Ranel leaned forward. "The strangest story I heard was from one of our customers. He said that his sister's husband owns an inn down Southside. This man heard someone yelling in one of the rooms one night, so he checked on them. When he opened the door, the murderer jumped out the window. But instead of falling to the ground, three stories down, he fell upward like he was flying!"

Sonea shrugged. Many people of dubious employment used the paths across the rooftops of the slums, known as the High Road. It was possible the man had swung out on a handhold and climbed up to the roof.

"That wasn't what was strange," Ranel continued. "What spooked the innkeeper was that the man staying in the room was dead, but all he had on his body were shallow cuts."

Sonea frowned. Dead, but without any wounds except a few shallow cuts? Then her blood turned to ice. A memory flashed into her mind of Akkarin in the underground room.

Takan dropped to one knee and offered his arm. In Akkarin's hand was a glittering dagger. He ran the blade over the servant's skin, then placed a hand over the wound…

"Sonea. Are you listening?"

She blinked, then looked at her uncle. "Yes. Just remembering something. From a long time ago. All this talk of murderers." She shivered. "I must go."

As she stood, Jonna enveloped her in a hug. "It is good knowing you can protect yourself, Sonea. I don't have to worry about you."

"Hmph. You could at least worry about me a bit."

Jonna laughed. "All right. If it makes you feel better."

Sonea said goodbye to Ranel, then stepped out into the street. As she continued through the slums, she could not help remembering Lorlen's words during the truth-read.

"I fear that, though I do not like to think it, you may be an attractive victim for him. He knows you have strong powers. You would be a potent source of magic."

But Akkarin could not kill her. If she disappeared, Rothen and Lorlen would tell the Guild of his crime. Akkarin would not risk that.

Yet, as she walked through the city gates into the North Quarter, Sonea could not help worrying. Had he made the slums his hunting ground? Were her aunt and uncle in danger?

He will not kill them, either, she told herself. Then I would tell the Guild the truth.

But then it suddenly occurred to her that visiting her aunt and uncle was the worst kind of foolishness. She had all but disappeared; only Tania knew where she had gone. If Lorlen and Rothen had heard she was missing, they might decide it was Akkarin's doing. Or Akkarin might have concluded that she had left the Guild, and be 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.