Then the realization came that her powerwas her body. It didn't exist in some abyss within her mind. It flowed through every limb and bone and vein within her.

 

—Yes. Now focus on your right hand, and what lies beyond.

 

She did not see it at first, then something caught her attention. It was a gap, a glimpse of something beyond herself. Focusing on it, she sensed that an otherness lay beyond.

 

—Concentrate on that otherness, then dothis.

 

He sent her a thought too strange for words. It was as if she stepped into Takan's body, except she was still within her own. She was conscious of both.

 

—Be aware of the energy within his body. Take some of it into your own.

 

Abruptly she realized that Takan held a great store of power. He was strong, she realized, almost as strong as she. Yet his mind did not seem to be connected to it, as if he was not conscious of the power within him.

 

But she was. And through the gap in his skin, she had a connection to it. It was easy to direct it out of his body and into hers. She felt herself grow a little stronger.

 

Understanding sprang into her mind. She was drawing power.

 

—Now stop.

 

She relaxed her will and felt the trickle of energy cease.

 

—Begin again.

 

She drew power through the gap, again. Just a slow leaking of magic. She wondered what it would be like to add all of his power to her own, and double her strength. Exhilarating, perhaps.

 

But what would she do with it? She certainly didn't need to be twice as strong. She didn't even use up her own strength during lessons at the University.

 

—Stop.

 

She obeyed. As Akkarin's hands slipped from her temples, she opened her eyes again.

 

"Good," he said. "You can heal Takan now."

 

Sonea looked down at Takan's arm, then concentrated. The cut healed quickly, and her awareness of his body and power faded away. The servant grimaced and her heart skipped.

 

"Are you all right?"

 

He smiled broadly. "Yes, Lady Sonea. You are very gentle. It's just that the Healing itches." He looked up at Akkarin and sobered. "She will be a worthy ally, master."

 

Akkarin didn't reply. Turning, Sonea saw that he had moved away to the cabinet of books and was standing with his arms crossed and a frown creasing his brow. Sensing her gaze, he turned to meet it. His expression was unreadable.

 

"Congratulations, Sonea," he said softly. "You are now a black magician."

 

She blinked in surprise. "That is all? It'sthat easy?"

 

He nodded. "Yes. The knowledge of how to kill in a moment, taught in a moment. From this day, you must never allow another into your mind. It would only take one stray thought for you to reveal this secret to another magician."

 

She looked down at the tiny bloodstain on her hand and felt a chill rush over her.

 

Ihave just used black magic, she thought.There is no turning back. Not now. Not ever.

 

Takan was regarding her closely. "Any regrets, Lady Sonea?"

 

She drew in a deep breath, then let it out. "Not as many as I would have if the Guild was destroyed and I could have prevented it. But I... I hope I will never have to use this." She smiled crookedly and looked at Akkarin. "That would mean the High Lord had died, and I only recently stopped wishing that that would happen."

 

Akkarin's eyebrows rose. Then Takan let out a bark of laughter.

 

"I like this one, master," he said. "You chose well when you took on her guardianship."

 

Akkarin snorted quietly and uncrossed his arms. "You know very well I didn't choose anything, Takan." He approached the table and regarded the items on it.

 

"Now, Sonea, I want you to examine each of these living things on the table and consider how the skill I have taught you may be applied to them. Then I have some more books for you to read."

 

12

 

The Price of Keeping Deadly Secrets

 

Rising from his bed, Rothen slid aside one of his window screens and sighed. A faint light brightened one side of the sky. Dawn was close, and he was wide awake already.

 

He looked at the High Lord's Residence lurking at the edge of the forest. Soon Sonea would rise and make her way to the Baths.

 

He had watched her closely over the last week. Though he hadn't seen her with Akkarin again, something in her manner had definitely changed.

 

There was a new confidence in the way she walked. At midbreak, she would sit in the garden and study, giving him an opportunity to watch her from the University windows. During the last week she had been easily distracted. She would often stop and look around at the Guild with a frown of concern or worry. Occasionally she would stare at nothing, her expression grim. At these times she looked so grown up he barely recognized her.

 

But it was when she gazed at the High Lord's Residence that she gave him the most reason to fear. There was such a thoughtful look on her face at these times, but it was what was lacking in her expression that scared him most. There was no dislike or fear in it.

 

He shivered. How could she regard Akkarin's house without showing at least some discomfort? She had before. Why not now?

 

Rothen drummed his fingers on the windowsill. For a year and a half he had obeyed Akkarin's order to stay away from

 

Sonea. The only times he had spoken to her had been in situations where, because others were watching, it would have seemed strange if he didn't.

 

I've been cooperative for so long. Surely he won't harm her if I try to speak to her alone just once.

 

The sky was a little lighter now. The gardens were growing clearer. All he had to do was go down there and catch her on the way to the Baths.

 

He turned from the window and began to dress. Only when he reached his door did he pause and reconsider.A few questions, he thought.That's all He probably won't even notice us.

 

The Magicians' Quarters corridor was empty and silent. Rothen's boots rapped out a quick rhythm as he hurried down the stairs to the exit. He entered the courtyard and turned toward the gardens.

 

He chose to wait in one of the little garden rooms next to the main path. It was well hidden from the High Lord's Residence. Most of the garden was visible from the top floor of the University, but it was too early for any magicians to be roaming about up there.

 

Half an hour later he heard light footsteps approaching. He glimpsed her through the trees and sighed in relief. She was late, but was still following her routine. Then his heart began to race. What if she refused to talk to him? He rose and reached the entrance of the garden room just as she passed the entrance.

 

"Sonea."

 

She jumped, then turned to stare at him.

 

"Rothen!" she whispered. "What are you doing out here this early in the morning?"

 

"Trying to catch you, of course."

 

She almost smiled, then a familiar wariness returned to her expression and she glanced up at the University.

 

"Why?"

 

"I want to know how you're getting along."

 

Her shoulders lifted. "Well enough. It's been a long time. I've got used to it—and good at avoiding him."

 

"You spend every evening there now."

 

Her gaze wavered. "Yes." She hesitated, then smiled faintly. "It's good to know you're keeping an eye on me, Rothen."

 

"Not as closely as I'd like." Rothen took a deep breath. "I have to ask you something. Is he ... has he made you do anything you don't want to, Sonea?"

 

She blinked, then frowned and looked down. "No. Other than becoming his favorite and studying so hard."

 

He waited until she looked up to meet his gaze again. There was something about the way her mouth was set that was familiar. It had been so long, but it reminded him how she . ..

 

...how she almost smiles when she's telling the truth, but knows it's not the full truth!

 

He quickly reconsidered his question. "Has he asked you to do anything I would not want you to?"

 

Her mouth quirked up at one corner again. "No, Rothen. He hasn't."

 

Rothen nodded, though her answer hadn't reassured him. He could not keep reshaping his question over and over.Perhaps Ezrille is right, he thought.Perhaps I am worrying too much.

 

Sonea smiled sadly. "I keep waiting for something bad to happen, too," she said, "but every day I'm learning more. If it ever comes to a fight, I won't be that easy to defeat." She glanced in the direction of the High Lord's Residence, then took a step away from him. "But let's not give anyone reason to start one yet."

 

"No," he agreed. "Be careful, Sonea."

 

"I will." She turned to walk away, then hesitated and looked over her shoulder. "You take care of yourself too, Rothen. Don't worry about me. Well, don't worrytoo much anyway."

 

He managed a smile. Watching her walk away, he shook his head and sighed. She asked the impossible.

 

Reaching the center of the Arena, Sonea noted the low position of the sun. It had been a long day, but soon classes would be over. Just this last bout to go.

 

She waited as the novices Balkan had chosen took their places. A ring of twelve formed around her, like the points of a compass. She turned a full circle, meeting the eyes of each in turn. They returned her stare confidently, no doubt reassured by their numbers. She wished she was feeling as sure of herself. Her adversaries were all from Fourth and Fifth Year classes, and most of them favored the Warrior Skills discipline.

 

"Begin," Balkan called.

 

All twelve novices attacked at once. Sonea threw up a strong shield and sent out a spray of forcestrikes in return. The novices combined their shields into one.

 

This would not happen if they were Ichani. She frowned as she remembered Akkarin's lessons.

 

"The Ichani don't fight well together. They have battled and distrusted each other for years. Few know how to channel power to another, to construct a barrier with the power of several magicians, or to fight cooperatively."

 

Hopefully, she would never have to fight any Ichani. She would only need to face their spies, and then only if Akkarin died. Unless this latest one—the woman—wasan Ichani. But Akkarin would deal with her.

 

"These spies have a deep fear of Guild magicians, despite what Kariko tells them. When they kill, it is carefully planned and carried out so that they do not attract the Guild's attention. They strengthen themselves slowly. If you face one, and you are prepared, you should be able to defeat him quickly and quietly."

 

The novices increased their attack, forcing Sonea to concentrate on the fight again. She fought back. Individually, they were no match for her. Together they could eventually defeat her. But she had only to strike the inner shield of one novice to win the bout.

 

There was far more at stake than her pride. She had to win, and quickly, in order to save her strength.

 

Every night for the last week she had been giving Akkarin most of her strength. Talk of the murders in the city increased as new victims were found every day. It was difficult to say how much strength the Sachakan woman had recov-

 

ered in that time. Akkarin, however, had only Sonea and Takan to take energy from each night.

 

She must not exhaust herself in this fight.

 

That was not going to be easy, however. Her adversaries were obviously well practiced at combining shields. She remembered the first attempts her own class had made at this sort of fighting. Until they all learned the proper responses to different kinds of attacks, and learned to act as one, it was easy to become confused.

 

So I should do something unexpected to confuse them. Something they 've never encountered before.

 

Like what she had done the night Regin and his friends had attacked her in the forest, so long ago. She couldn't effectively dazzle these novices with a bright light during the day, however. But if she did something similar so they didn't know where she was, she could sneak behind someone and. . .

 

She smothered a smile. Her shield didn'thave to be transparent.

 

It took only a shift in her will for her shield to become a globe of white light. The disadvantage of this, she realized belatedly, was that she couldn't seethem either.

 

Now for the deception.Creating several more shields like her first, she sent them out in different directions. At the same time she began walking, taking one shield with her.

 

She felt the novices' attack falter, and had to cover her mouth to stop herself laughing as she imagined how the Arena must look, with several big white bubbles floating around it. She couldn't strike back, however, or they would know which shield she stood within.

 

As the shields drew close to her adversaries, she felt them encounter the novices' barrier. She stopped and let all but one of the shields fall back a little. The novices began to attack the one still advancing. She let one of the stationary shields waver and disappear: another distraction.

 

Reverting the shield around her to a transparent one, she found herself standing near three novices. Gathering her power, she blasted one with a fierce attack of forcestrikes. He jumped, and his neighbors whirled around to face her,

 

but the rest of the novices were still too distracted by her other shields to realize their allies needed help.

 

The combined shield wavered and broke before her.

 

"Halt!"

 

Sonea turned to face Balkan. She blinked in surprise when she saw that he was smiling.

 

"An interesting strategy, Sonea," he said. "Not one we'd probably use in real combat, but certainly effective in the Arena. You win the bout."

 

Sonea bowed. She knew that next time she attended his lessons she would find her multiple shield idea completely ineffective. The University gong rang, signalling the end of the class, and Sonea heard a few sighs among the novices. She smiled, but more at having ended the bout without using too much strength than at their obvious relief.

 

"Lesson over," Balkan announced. "You may go."

 

The novices bowed and filed out of the Arena. Sonea saw that two magicians were standing just outside the entrance. Her heart skipped when she recognized them: Akkarin and Lorlen.

 

She followed the other novices out of the Arena. They bowed to the Higher Magicians as they passed. Akkarin ignored them and beckoned to Sonea.

 

"High Lord." She bowed. "Administrator."

 

"You did well, Sonea," Akkarin said. "You assessed their strengths, recognized their weaknesses, and came up with an original response."

 

She blinked in surprise, then felt her face warm.

 

"Thank you."

 

"I wouldn't take Balkan's comment too seriously, however," he added. "In real combat, a magician uses any strategy that works."

 

Lorlen gave Akkarin a penetrating look. He looked as if he desperately wanted to ask a question, but didn't dare.Or perhaps a dozen questions, Sonea mused. She felt a pang of sympathy for the Administrator, and then she remembered the ring he wore.

 

It enabled Akkarin to sense everything Lorlen saw, felt and thought. Was Lorlen aware of its power? If he was, he

 

must feel utterly betrayed by his friend. She shivered. If only Akkarin could tell Lorlen the truth.

 

But then, if he did, would he also tell Lorlen she had willingly learned black magic? Thinking of that made her feel very uncomfortable.

 

Akkarin started walking toward the University. Sonea and Lorlen followed.

 

"The Guild will lose interest in the murderer once Ambassador Dannyl arrives with the rogue, Lorlen," Akkarin said.

 

Sonea had heard about the rebels that Dannyl had caught. News about the rogue magician he was bringing to the Guild had spread among the novices faster than the winter cough.

 

"Perhaps," Lorlen replied, "but they won't forget. Nobody forgets a killing spree like this. I wouldn't be surprised if someone demands the Guild do something about it."

 

Akkarin sighed. "As if having magic makes it any easier for us to find one person in a city of many thousands."

 

Lorlen opened his mouth to say something, then glanced at Sonea and seemed to think better of it. He remained silent until they reached the University steps, then he bid them good night and hurried away. Akkarin started toward the residence.

 

"So the Thieves haven't found the spy yet?" Sonea asked quietly.

 

Akkarin shook his head.

 

"Does it usually take this long?"

 

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "You're eager to see us fight, then?"

 

"Eager?" She shook her head. "No, I'm not eager. I can't help thinking that the longer she's out there, the more people she will kill." She paused. "My family lives in North-side."

 

His expression softened a little. "Yes. There are many thousands in the slums, however. The odds of her taking one of your relatives is small, particularly if they stay indoors at night."

 

"They do." She sighed. "I worry about Cery and my old friends, though."

 

"I'm sure your thief friend can take care of himself."

 

She nodded. "You're probably right." As they passed the gardens, she thought about her early morning encounter with Rothen. She felt another stab of guilt. She hadn'tlied to him, as such. Akkarin had neverasked her to learn black magic.

 

But she felt terrible when she considered how Rothen would feel if he learned the truth. He had done so much for her, and sometimes it seemed like all she'd ever brought him was trouble. Perhaps it was good that they had been separated.

 

And she had to admit, begrudgingly, Akkarin had done more than Rothen could have to ensure she had the best training. She would never have been much good at Warrior Skills if he hadn't pushed her. Now it looked like she would need to use those skills to fight the spies.

 

As they reached the residence and the door swung open, Akkarin paused and glanced upward. "I believe Takan is waiting for us." He moved inside and approached the wine cabinet. "Go on up."

 

As she climbed the stairs she thought back to his comment at the Arena. Had there been a hint of pride in his voice? Was he actually pleased with her as a novice? The idea was strangely appealing. Perhaps she really had earned the title: the High Lord's favorite.

 

Her. The slum girl.

 

She slowed her step. Thinking back, she could not remember him ever expressing disdain or distaste about her origins. Hehad been threatening, manipulative and cruel, but he had never once reminded her that she had come from the poorest part of the city.

 

But then, how could he look down on another person?she suddenly thought.He was a slaveonce.

 

The ship was from the Elyne King's fleet and was larger than the Vindo vessels Dannyl had travelled in before. Made solely to transport important personages rather than cargo, there was space inside for several small but luxurious rooms. Though Dannyl had managed to sleep for most of the day, he found it difficult to stop yawning as he rose, washed and

 

dressed. A servant brought him a plate of roast harrel and some elaborately prepared vegetables. He felt better after eating, and a cup of sumi helped wake him up completely.

 

Through the ship's small windows he could see the sails of the other vessels glowing orange in the light of the setting sun. He left his room, then made his way down a long corridor to Farand's cell.

 

It wasn't a cell, really. Though it was the smallest and plainest room in the ship, it was comfortably furnished. Dannyl knocked on the door. A short magician with a round face greeted him.

 

"Your turn then, Ambassador," Lord Barene said, obviously relieved that his shift was over. He stared at Dannyl, then shook his head, muttered something under his breath and left.

 

Farand was lying on the bed. He looked at Dannyl and smiled faintly. Two plates lay on a small table. From the harrel bones left on them, Dannyl guessed they'd had the same meal as he.

 

"How are you feeling, Farand?"

 

The young man yawned. 'Tired."

 

Dannyl sat down in one of the cushioned chairs. He knew Farand wasn't sleeping too well.Neither would I, he thought,if I thought I might face death in a week.

 

He did not believe the Guild would execute Farand. A rogue magician hadn't been discovered for over a century, however, and he had to admit he had no idea what would happen. The hardest part was, he wanted to reassure Farand, but he couldn't. It would be cruel if he turned out to be wrong.

 

"What have you been doing?"

 

"Talking to Barene. Or he's been talking to me. About you."

 

"Really?"

 

Farand sighed. "Royend is telling everyone about you and your lover."

 

Dannyl felt a chill. So it had started.

 

"I'm sorry," Farand added.

 

Dannyl blinked in surprise. "Don't be, Farand. It was part of the deception. A way to convince him to trust us."

 

Farand frowned. "I don't believe it."

 

"No?" Dannyl forced himself to smile. "When we get to Kyralia, the High Lord will confirm it. It was his idea to have us pretend to be lovers, so the rebels felt they had something to blackmail us with."

 

"But what he's telling them is true," Farand said softly. "When I saw you two together, it was obvious. Don't worry. I haven't told anyone my views on the matter." He yawned again. "I won't. But I can't help thinking you must be wrong about the Guild."

 

"How so?"

 

"You keep telling me the Guild is always fair and reasonable. But from the way the other magicians are reacting to this news about you, I'm beginning to think it's not. And it wasn't fair of your High Lord to make you reveal something like that if he knew this was how the other magicians would react." His eyelids closed, then fluttered open again. "I'm so tired. And I don't feel so good."

 

"Get some rest then."

 

The young man closed his eyes. His breathing immediately slowed and Dannyl guessed he had fallen asleep.No conversation tonight, he mused.It's going to be a long one.

 

He looked out of the window at the other ships. So Royend was taking his revenge.It doesn't matter if Farand believes it's true, he told himself.When Akkarin confirms that it was all a deception, nobody will believe the Dem.

 

Was Farand right, though? Was it unfair of Akkarin to have used him and Tayend in this way? Dannyl could no longer pretend that he didn't know Tayend was a lad. Would people expect him to avoid Tayend from now on? What would they say when he didn't?

 

He sighed. He hated living with this fear. He hated pretending that Tayend meant nothing more to him than a useful assistant should. He had no delusions that he could boldly admit to the truth, however, and somehow change Kyralian attitudes. And he missed Tayend already, like a part of himself had been left behind in Elyne.

 

Think of something else,he told himself.

 

His thoughts strayed to the book that Tayend had "bor-

 

rowed" from the Dem, now stowed with Dannyl's belongings. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even Errend. Though finding the book had helped him decide it was time to arrest the rebels, it hadn't been necessary to reveal its existence. And he didn't want to. By reading those passages, Dannyl had broken the law against learning about black magic. The words were still in his memory . . .

 

Minor skills include the ability to create "blood stones" or "bloodgems" which enhance the maker's ability to mind-speak with another person at a distance . . .

 

He thought about the eccentric Dem he and Tayend had visited in the mountains over a year ago, during their second journey to search for information about ancient magic. In the Dem Ladeiri's impressive collection of books and artifacts had been a ring, the symbol for high magic carved into the red glass "gem" in the setting. A ring that according to the Dem enabled the wearer to communicate with another magician without the conversation being overheard. Was the gem in the ring one of these blood gems?

 

Dannyl shivered. Had he handled an object of black magic? The thought made him feel cold. He had actually put the ring on.

 

. . .and "store stones" or "store gems" which can hold and release magic in specific ways.

 

He and Tayend had trekked up the mountains above Ladeiri's home to an ancient ruined city. They had found a hidden tunnel which led, according to Tayend's translation of the writing carved into it, to a "Chamber of Ultimate Justice." Dannyl had followed the tunnel to a large room with a domed ceiling covered in glittering stones. Those stones had attacked him with magical strikes, and he had barely escaped alive.

 

His skin prickled. Was the ceiling of the Chamber of Ultimate Justice made from these store stones? Was this what Akkarin had meant when he'd said there were political reasons for keeping the chamber's existence a secret? It was a room full of black magic gems.

 

Akkarin had said something about the chamber losing strength, too. Clearly, he understood what it was. Knowing

 

how to recognize and deal with such magic would be the High Lord's responsibility. Which was all the more reason why the book must remain concealed for now. He would give it to Akkarin when he arrived.

 

Farand made a small noise of distress in his sleep. Looking up, Dannyl frowned. The young man was pale and sickly. The distress of capture had taken quite a toll. Then Dannyl looked closer. Farand's lips were darker. They were almost blue . ..

 

Dannyl moved to the bed. He grabbed Farand's shoulder and shook him. The man's eyes opened, but didn't focus.

 

Putting a hand to the man's forehead, Dannyl closed his eyes and sent his mind forth. He sucked in a breath as he sensed the chaos within the man's body.

 

Someone had poisoned him.

 

Drawing on his power, Dannyl sent Healing energy out, but it was hard to know where to start. He applied it to the most affected organs first. But the deterioration continued as the poison gradually spread through the body.

 

This is beyond me,Dannyl thought desperately. Ineed a Healer.

 

He thought about the other two magicians in the ship. Neither were Healers. Both were Elynes. He thought of Dem Marane's warning.

 

"You do realize the King might kill him rather than let the Guild discover whatever it is that he knows."

 

Barene had been here when the meal had been served. Had he given Farand the poison? Best not to call him, just in case. The other magician, Lord Hemend, was close to the Elyne King. Dannyl didn't trust him either.

 

There was only one other choice. Dannyl closed his eyes.

 

—Vinara!

 

—Dannyl?

 

—Ineed your help. Someone has poisoned the rogue.

 

The other two magicians would hear this call, but Dannyl couldn't help that. He put a magical binding on the door. Though it would not keep out a magician for long, it would prevent surprise intrusions or interruptions from non-magicians.

 

The sense of Lady Vinara's personality grew stronger, full of concern and urgency.

 

—Describe the symptoms.

 

Dannyl showed her an image of Farand, his skin now very white and his breathing labored. Then he sent his mind back into the man's body and conveyed his impressions to her.

 

—You must purge the poison, then attend to the damage.

 

Following her instructions, Dannyl began a painfully complicated process. First he made Farand throw up. Then he took one of the knives used for the meal, cleaned and sharpened it with magic, and cut open a vein in the man's arm. Vinara explained how to keep the man's failing organs working, fight the effects of the poison, and encourage the body to make more blood as the contaminated fluid slowly drained away.

 

It took a great toll on Farand's body. Healing magic could not replace the nutrients needed to make blood and tissue. Reserves of fat and some muscle tissue were depleted. When he woke—if he woke—Farand would be barely strong enough to breathe.

 

When Dannyl had done all he could, he opened his eyes and, as he became aware of the room again, realized that someone was hammering on the door.

 

—Do you know who did this?Vinara asked.

 

—No. But I have an idea why. I could investigate ...

 

—Let the others investigate. You must stay and guard the patient.

 

—Idon't trust them. There. It had been said.

 

—Nevertheless, Farand is your responsibility. You can't protect him and look for the poisoner at the same time. Be vigilant, Dannyl.

 

She was right, of course. Rising from the bed, Dannyl straightened his shoulders and readied himself to face whoever was knocking at the door.

 

13

 

The Murderess

 

As Sonea entered the underground room, she noted the objects on the table. A dish contained some pieces of broken glass. Beside it was a broken silver fork, a bowl and a cloth. Next to these lay the wooden box that contained Akkarin's knife.

 

For two weeks she had been practicing black magic. She had gained in skill and could now take a lot of power quickly, or a little power through the tiniest pinprick. She had drawn energy from small animals, plants and even water. The objects on the table were different tonight, and she paused to wonder what Akkarin intended to teach her next.

 

"Good evening, Sonea."

 

She looked up. Akkarin was leaning over the chest. It was open, revealing several old books. He was examining one of them. She bowed.

 

"Good evening, High Lord."

 

He closed the book, then walked across the room and set it beside the other objects on the table.

 

"Did you finish the records of the Sachakan war?"

 

"Nearly. It's hard to believe the Guild managed to lose so much of its history."

 

"They didn't lose it," he corrected. "They purged it. Those history books not destroyed were rewritten so there was no mention of higher magic."

 

Sonea shook her head. When she considered how much effort the Guild had once spent getting rid of all mention of

 

black magic, she understood why Akkarin did not want to risk telling the present Guild the truth about his past. Yet still she could not imagine Lorlen and the Higher Magicians reacting so blindly to black magic if they knew the reason Akkarin had learned it, or if they understood the threat of the Ichani.

 

It's me they would condemn,she thought suddenly,because I choseto learn it.

 

'Tonight I am going to show you how to make blood gems," Akkarin told her.

 

Blood gems? Her heart skipped as she realized what he was referring to. She would be making a gem like the one in the tooth of the spy, and in Lorlen's ring.

 

"A blood gem allows a magician to see and hear whatever the wearer sees and hears—and thinks," Akkarin told her. "If the wearer cannot see, neither can the maker. The gem also focuses mind communication on its maker, so that no other can hear conversations between maker and wearer.

 

"It has limitations, however," he warned. "The maker is constantly connected to the gem. A part of the maker's mind is always receiving images and thoughts from the wearer, and this can be quite a distraction. After a while you learn to block it out.

 

"Once made, the connection to the maker cannot be broken unless the gem is destroyed. So if a gem is lost by its wearer, and another finds and wears it, the maker will have to put up with the distraction of an unwanted mind connected to his own." He smiled faintly. "Takan told me a story once of an Ichani who had staked a slave out to be eaten alive by wild limek, and put a gem on the man so he could watch. One of the animals ate the gem, and the Ichani spent several days driven to distraction by its thoughts."

 

His smile faded then, and his gaze became distant. "But the Ichani are skilled at turning magic to cruel uses. Dakova once made a gem out of a man's blood, then made the man watch as his brother was tortured." He grimaced. "Fortunately, glass blood gems are easy to destroy. The brother managed to smash the gem."

 

He rubbed his forehead and frowned. "Because this con-

 

nection to another mind can be distracting, it is not a good idea to make too many blood gems. I have three, at the moment. Do you know who carries them?"

 

Sonea nodded. "Lorlen."

 

"Yes."

 

"And . .. Takan?" She frowned. "He doesn't wear a ring, though."

 

"No, he doesn't. Takan's gem is hidden."

 

"Who has the third?"

 

"A friend in a useful place."

 

She shrugged. "I don't think I could ever guess. Why Lorlen?"

 

Akkarin's eyebrows rose at the question. "I needed to keep an eye on him. Rothen would never have done anything to cause you harm. Lorlen, however, would sacrifice you if it meant saving the Guild."

 

Sacrifice me? But of course he would.She shivered.I probably would too, if I were in his position. Knowing this, she wished even more that Akkarin could tell Lorlen the truth.

 

"He has proven very useful, however," Akkarin added. "He is in contact with the Captain in the Guard who is investigating the murders. I have been able to estimate how strong each of the spies is based on the number of bodies that are found."

 

"Does he know what the gem is?"

 

"He knows what it does."

 

Poor Lorlen,she thought.He believes his friend has turned to evil magic, and knows that Akkarin can read his every thought. She frowned.But how hard is it for Akkarin to be always conscious of how his friend fears and disapproves of him?

 

Akkarin turned to face the table. "Come here."

 

As she moved to the other side of the table, Akkarin flipped open the lid of the box. He lifted out the knife and handed it to her.

 

"When I first saw Dakova make a blood gem, I thought there must be something magical in blood. It wasn't until years later that I discovered this wasn't true. The blood merely imprints the maker's identity on the glass."

 

"You learned to make them from the books?"

 

"No. A great part of the magic I learned by studying an ancient example I had come across during the first year of my research. I didn't know what it was at the time, but later I borrowed it for a while to study. Though its maker was long dead, and it no longer worked, enough magic was still imprinted in the glass for me to gain a sense of how it functioned."

 

"Do you still have it?"

 

"No, I returned it to its owner. Unfortunately, he died soon after, and I don't know what happened to his collection of ancient jewelry."

 

She nodded and looked down at the items on the table.

 

"Any living part of yourself can be used," Akkarin told her. "Hair works, but not well because most of it is dead. There is a Sachakan folk tale in which tears were used, but I suspect that is just a romantic fancy. You could cut out a piece of your flesh, but that wouldn't be pleasant or convenient. Blood is the easiest." He tapped the bowl. "You'll only need a few drops."

 

Sonea looked at the bowl and then the blade. Akkarin watched her silently. She considered her left arm. Where should she cut? Turning over her hand she noticed an old, faint scar on her palm from when she had cut herself on a drainpipe as a child. She brought the tip of the knife over to touch her palm. To her surprise, she felt no pain as the blade sliced open her skin.

 

Then blood welled from the cut and a sharp ache began to nag at her senses. She let the blood drip into the bowl.

 

"Heal yourself," Akkarin instructed. "Always heal yourself without delay. Even half-healed cuts are a break in your barrier."

 

She concentrated on the wound. The blood stopped flowing, then the edges of the cut slowly sealed together. Akkarin handed her the cloth, and she wiped the blood off her hand.

 

Akkarin handed her a piece of glass. "Hold this in the air and melt it. It will keep its shape easier if you set it spinning."

 

Sonea focused her will on the fragment of glass and

 

lifted it up. She sent heat around it and willed it to spin. It began to glow around the edges, then slowly shrank into a globule.

 

"At last!" Akkarin hissed.

 

Startled, she lost her hold on the globule. It dropped to the table, where it made a small scorch mark.

 

"Oops."

 

Akkarin hadn't noticed, however. His eyes were focused far beyond the room. As she watched, his gaze sharpened. He smiled grimly, then picked up the knife.

 

"Takan has just received a message. The Thieves have found the spy."

 

Sonea's heart skipped.

 

"Your lesson will have to wait until we return." Moving to a cupboard, Akkarin took out the leather belt with the knife sheath she had seen him wearing the night she had spied upon him, so long ago. He wiped the blade of his knife on the cloth, and slipped it into the sheath. Sonea blinked in surprise as he then untied the sash of his robes and removed the outer garment. Beneath it he wore a black vest.

 

He strapped the belt about his waist, then moved to another cupboard and took out a long, worn-looking coat for himself, a cloak for Sonea, and a lantern.

 

"Keep your robes well covered," he said as she donned the cloak. It had many small buttons down the front, and two side openings for her hands.

 

He paused to regard her, and frowned.

 

"I would not take you with me if I could avoid it, but if I am to prepare you to face these spies, I must show you how it may be done. You must doexactly as I instruct."

 

She nodded. "Yes, High Lord."

 

Akkarin moved to the wall and the hidden door to the passages opened. Sonea followed him through. The lantern spluttered alight.

 

"We must not let this woman see you," he told her as he started down the passage. 'Tavaka's master probably saw you through his gem before I destroyed it. If any of the Ichani see you with me again, they will guess I am training

 

you. They will try to kill you while you are too weak and unskilled to defend yourself."

 

He fell silent as they reached the first barrier, and did not speak again until they had navigated the maze of passages and reached the blocked tunnel. Akkarin gestured at the rubble.

 

"Have a good look with your mind, then shift the stairs into place."

 

Extending her senses, Sonea examined the arrangement of rocks. At first it appeared to be a random jumble, then she began to see a pattern in them. It was like a large version of the wooden puzzles sold in the markets. Push on one particular spot, and the puzzle pieces slid against each other to form a new shape—or fell apart. She drew a little magic and began shifting the rocks. The passage filled with the sound of stone sliding against stone as the stairs moved into place.

 

"Well done," Akkarin murmured. He strode forward, taking the stairs two at a time. Sonea followed him up. At the top, she turned and willed the rock slabs back into their former positions.

 

The light of the lantern illuminated the familiar brick walls of the Thieves' Road. Akkarin started forward. After several hundred paces they reached the place where the guide had met them before. A smaller shadow stepped out to greet them.

 

The boy was about twelve, Sonea guessed. His eyes were hard and wary, however—the eye's of a much older person. He stared at them both, then looked down at Akkarin's boots and nodded. Without a word, he indicated that they should follow him and started down the passages.

 

Though their path wound about from time to time, it took them in one general direction. Their guide finally stopped beside a ladder and pointed up to a trapdoor. Akkarin shuttered the lamp and the passage filled with darkness. Sonea heard him set a boot on the rungs of the ladder and begin to climb. Faint light filled the passage as he lifted the trapdoor cautiously and peered out. He beckoned to her and, as she started up the ladder, opened the trapdoor fully and climbed out.

 

Following, Sonea found herself in an alley. The houses around her were roughly made from all kinds of scavenged materials. Some looked as if they might fall down at any moment. The smell of garbage and sewage was powerful. She felt a long-forgotten sympathy and wariness. This was the outer edge of the slums, where the poorest dwells scratched an existence. It was a sad and dangerous place.

 

A heavily built man stepped out of a nearby doorway and strolled toward them. Sonea let out a small sigh of relief as she recognized him as the man who had been guarding the previous spy. He stared at her, then turned to Akkarin.

 

"She just left," the man said. "We've been tagging her for two hours. The locals say she's been minding herself away down in there for two nights." He pointed toward a nearby door.

 

"How do you know she'll come back tonight?" Akkarin asked.

 

"Had a look at the place after she left. She got some stuff down there. She'll be back."

 

"The rest of the place is empty?"

 

"A few beggars and whores use it, but we told them to get busy for the night."

 

Akkarin nodded. "We'll have a look inside and see if it is a suitable place for an ambush. Make sure no one comes in."

 

The man nodded. "Hers is the last room on the right."

 

Sonea followed Akkarin to the door. It squeaked in protest as he pulled it open. They descended crumbling steps of compacted dirt supported by rotting beams of wood, and started along a corridor.

 

It was dark inside, and the earth floor was uneven. Akkarin opened the shutter of his lamp just enough to light the way. The openings into the rooms had no doors. Some were covered with rough sacking material. The walls were lined with wood, but planks had fallen away here and there and the dirt behind them had formed mounds on the floor.

 

Most of the rooms were empty. The last entrance on the right was covered with sacking. Akkarin stared at the covering intently, then pushed it aside and opened the shutter of the lamp.

 

The room inside was surprisingly large. A few wooden crates and a warped plank formed a table. A shelf had been carved along one side of the room, and in one corner was a thin mattress and some blankets.

 

Akkarin began to walk around the room, examining everything closely. He looked through the bedding, then shook his head.

 

"Morren spoke of valuables. Surely he didn't mean this."

 

Sonea smothered a smile. She walked over to the nearest wall and began to poke her finger between each of the boards. Akkarin watched as she made her way around the room. Near the bedding she felt a tell-tale sponginess.

 

The planks came away easily. The sacking that lay behind them was caked with dried mud, but here and there a thread showed. She carefully lifted a corner. Inside was an alcove large enough for a child to sit in, its roof supported by more rotting wooden planks. A small bundle of cloth lay at the center.

 

Akkarin moved to her side and chuckled. "Well, well. Youhave proven to be useful."

 

Sonea shrugged. "I lived in a place like this, once. Dwells call them Holes."

 

He paused. "For long?"

 

She looked up to find him regarding her appraisingly.

 

"For a winter. It was a long time ago, when I was very small." She turned back to the alcove. "I remember it was crowded, and cold."

 

"But there are few people living here now. Why is that?"

 

"The Purge. It doesn't happen until the first snows of the year. This is where all those people the Guild drives out of the city go to. The ones the Houses say are dangerous thieves, when the truth is they just don't like ugly beggars and cripples making the city look shabby, and the real Thieves aren't inconvenienced by the Purge—"

 

From behind them came the faint, distant squeak of a door. Akkarin spun about.

 

"It's her."

 

"How do you—"

 

"Morren would have stopped anyone else." He snapped

 

the shutter of the lamp mostly shut and looked quickly around the room. "No other way out," he muttered. He lifted the corner of the sacking covering the alcove. "Can you fit in there?"

 

She didn't bother replying. Turning, she sat on the edge of the alcove and pushed herself backward. As she folded her legs into the small space, Akkarin let the sacking fall and pressed the boards back into place.

 

Complete darkness followed. The pounding of her heart was loud in the silence. Then Sonea suddenly found herself staring at lines of bright stars.

 

"You again," a woman said in a strangely accented voice. "I wondered when you would give me another chance to kill you."

 

The stars brightened and Sonea felt the vibration of magic. Realizing that the points of light were holes in the mud-soaked sacking, Sonea leaned forward, hoping to see into the room beyond.

 

"You came prepared," the woman observed.

 

"Of course," Akkarin said.

 

"I have, too," she said. "Your dirty city is a bit smaller now. And your Guild will soon be another man less."

 

In one place, where the dried mud coating the sacking was thin and crumbling, Sonea could see moving shapes illuminated by flashes of light. She scratched at the sacking to unclog more of the cloth's rough weave.

 

"What will your Guild think when its ruler is found dead? Will they work out what killed him? I think not."

 

Sonea could make out a figure now. A woman in a dull-colored shirt and trousers stood on one side of the room. Sonea couldn't see Akkarin, however. She continued scratching at the mud coating of the sacking, trying to get a better view. How was she going to learn anything about fighting these spies, if she couldn't see the battle?

 

"They won't know what's hunting them," the Sachakan continued. "I was thinking of walking in and taking them all at once, but now I think it'll be more fun to lure them out and kill them one by one."

 

"I recommend the latter," Akkarin replied. "You'll not get far, otherwise."

 

The woman laughed. "Won't I?" she sneered. "But I know Kariko is right. Your Guild doesn't know higher magic. They are weak and stupid—so stupid that you must hide from them what you know or they would kill you."

 

The room flared with light as strikes pounded at the woman's shield. The woman responded in kind. A creaking sound came from above. Sonea saw the woman glance up, then step sideways, toward the alcove.

 

"Just because we do not abuse our knowledge of magic, does not mean we are ignorant," Akkarin said calmly. He moved into sight, maintaining a position opposite the woman.

 

"But I have seen the truth in the minds of your people," the woman replied. "I know this is why you chase me alone—why you cannot let anyone see us fighting. Let them see this, then."

 

Suddenly the room filled with the deafening crack of splintering wood. A shower of wooden beams and roofing tiles fell down from the roof, filling the air with dust. The woman laughed and moved closer to the alcove and Sonea.

 

Then she stopped as another fall sent rubble down blocking her path. The Sachakan was suddenly thrown back against the side wall. Sonea felt the impact of Akkarin's forcestrike through the floor of the alcove, and a shower of dirt pattered onto her back.

 

The woman pushed herself away from the wall, snarled something, then strode toward the rubble ... and through it. Sonea blinked in surprise as she realized it had been an illusion, then her heart skipped as she saw that the woman was walking straight toward her.

 

Akkarin attacked, forcing the woman to slow. As the woman stopped in front of her hidden store, Sonea found herself facing Akkarin's attack. Disturbed, she hastily put up a strong shield around herself.

 

The room vibrated as the two magicians struck at each other. More dirt trickled down Sonea's back. Reaching up, she felt the beams holding up the roof of the alcove beginning to split and sag. Alarmed, she expanded her shield to give them support.

 

A laugh brought her attention back to the room. Peering through the sacking, she saw that Akkarin was backing away. His strikes didn't seem to be as strong. He took a sideways step toward the door.

 

He's losing strength,she realized suddenly. Her stomach sank as he edged closer to the door.

 

"You're not getting away from me this time," the woman said.

 

A barrier filled the doorway. Akkarin's expression darkened. The woman seemed to grow straighter and taller. Instead of advancing, she took a few steps backward and turned toward Sonea.

 

Watching Akkarin, Sonea saw his expression change to dismay and alarm. The woman reached out toward the alcove, then stopped as he threw a powerful strike at her.

 

He was faking,Sonea thought suddenly.He was trying to draw her away from me. But instead of following him, the woman had approached the alcove.Why? Does she know I'm here? Or is it something else?

 

Feeling around, Sonea found the bundle of cloth. Even in the dark she could tell that the material was of good quality.

 

She created a tiny, faint globe light. Unravelling the bundle, Sonea saw that it was a woman's shawl. As she lifted it, a small object fell out of the folds. A silver ring.

 

She picked it up. It was a man's ring, the kind that the elders of a House wore to indicate their status. A flat square on one side of it bore the incal of House Saril.

 

Then the alcove exploded into a storm of dirt and noise.

 

Sonea felt herself thrown backward. Curling into a ball, she concentrated on holding her shield around her. The weight pushing down on it increased, then became constant.

 

Then all was still. Opening her eyes, she created another tiny globe light. All about her was earth. Her shield was holding it back, forming a spherical hollow around her. She uncurled, rolled into a crouch and considered her situation.

 

She was buried. Though she could hold the shield for some time, the air within it would not last long. It would not be hard to push her way out. Once she did, however, she would no longer be hidden.

 

So I should stay here as long as possible,she decided. Iwon't get to see any more of the fight, but that can't be helped.

 

Thinking back on what she'd witnessed, she shook her head. The battle had been nothing like Akkarin had predicted. The woman was stronger than the usual spy. Her attitude was not like that of a slave, and she had referred to the Ichani as "us" not "my masters," as the previous spy had. She was skilled in fighting. The former slaves sent into Kyralia had no time to gain any fighting skills.

 

If this woman was no slave, then, there was only one other thing she could be.

 

Ichani.

 

Sonea's stomach clenched at the realization. Akkarin was fighting an Ichani. She concentrated and found she could feel the vibration of their magic somewhere near. The battle was still raging.

 

The pressure on her shield began to ease. Looking up, she saw a small hole appear where the soil was falling away from her shield. As she watched, it enlarged as more dirt slipped away.

 

A view of the room began to emerge. She straightened, and caught her breath in horror. The Sachakan woman was standing only a few steps away.

 

Alarmed, Sonea reduced the size of her shield, but this only sent the dirt cascading down faster. As it did, Akkarin came into view. His eyes flickered to hers once, but his expression did not change. He started to move forward.

 

Sonea crouched within her shield, helplessly watching the Sachakan woman's back as the dirt continued to fall away. She dared not move in case the woman heard something and turned around. The Sachakan took a step backward as Akkarin drew closer. Her body was stiff with concentration.

 

Sonea felt Akkarin's magic brush her shield as he encircled the woman with a barrier and tried to drag her forward. But the woman broke his hold and took another step back. As her shield drew closer, Sonea pulled her own inward to avoid contact. The woman's shield now buzzed within a hand's span of Sonea. Another step, and the woman would discover her.

 

If she detects me,Sonea thought.If I stop shielding, her shield might slide over me without her noticing.

 

The woman's shield was a globe, which was the easiest shape to hold. A globe-shaped shield protected a magician's feet by dipping under the ground a little, but for a shield to be strong enough to hold back a subterranean attack, it couldn't move through the ground. All novices learned to weaken the part of their shield that overlapped an obstacle or the ground as they moved, then strengthen it as soon as they were still again.

 

If this woman had the same habit, she might allow her shield to slide over Sonea—thinking Sonea was merely an obstacle—when she moved back again.

 

But shewillnotice. She will sense my presence.

 

Sonea caught her breath.But I'll be insideher shield! For a moment, before she realizes what has happened, she 'II be defenseless. I just need something to . . .

 

Sonea's eyes slid to the ground. A sliver of wood from the alcove lay half buried nearby. As she contemplated what she intended to do, her heart raced even faster. She drew in a deep, quiet breath and waited for the woman to step backward again. She did not have to wait long.

 

As the shield passed over her, Sonea grabbed the piece of wood, stood up and slashed it across the back of the woman's neck. The woman began to turn, but Sonea had anticipated that. She pressed her other hand against the wound and focused all her will into drawing energy into herself as fast as she could.

 

The woman's eyes widened in horrified realization. Her shield disappeared and her knees buckled. Sonea nearly lost her grip, and quickly wound her free arm around the woman's waist. The Sachakan was too heavy, however, and Sonea let the woman sink to the ground.

 

Power rushed into Sonea, then abruptly stopped. She drew her hand away and the woman fell onto her back. The Sachakan's eyes stared blankly at nothing.

 

Dead.A wave of relief washed over Sonea.It worked, she thought.It actually worked.

 

Then she looked at her hand. In the moonlight spilling

 

through the ruined roof the blood covering her palm looked black. A cold horror rushed over her. She staggered to her feet.

 

Ihave just killed someone with black magic.

 

Suddenly dizzy, she stumbled backward. She knew she was breathing too fast, but couldn't seem to stop herself. Hands gripped her shoulders and stopped her falling.

 

"Sonea," a voice said, "take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out."

 

Akkarin. She tried to do as he said. It took a few attempts. From somewhere he produced a cloth and wiped her hand.

 

"It's not pleasant, is it?"

 

She shook her head.

 

"It shouldn't be."

 

She shook her head again. Her mind spun with contradictory thoughts.

 

She would have killed me, if I hadn % She would have killed others. So why does it feel so horrible to know I've done this?

 

Perhaps because it makes me just that little bit more like them.

 

What if there are no spies to kill, and Takan isn't enough, and I have to look for other ways to strengthen myself to fight the Ichani? Will I start haunting the streets, killing the odd thug or mugger? Will I use the defense of Kyralia to

 

justify preying on the innocent?

 

Sonea shook her head at the bewildering mixture of emotions she felt. She had never felt such doubt before.

 

"Look at me, Sonea."

 

He turned her around. She reluctantly met his gaze. He reached out and she felt him gently tug something from her hair. A piece of the sacking fell from his hand to the ground.

 

"It is not an easy choice, the one you've made," he said, "but you will learn to trust yourself." He looked up. Following his gaze, she saw that the full moon hung in the middle of the gap in the roof.

 

The Eye,Sonea thought.It's open. Either it allowed me to do this because it was not evil, or I'm going to sink into madness.

 

But I don't believe in silly superstitions,she reminded herself.

 

"We must get away from here quickly," he said. "The Thieves will take care of the body."

 

Sonea nodded. As Akkarin moved away she reached up to smooth her hair. Her scalp tingled where he had touched her. Keeping her eyes averted from the body of the dead woman, she followed him out of the room.

 

14

 

 The Witness

 

Something was pressing gently against Cery's back. Something warm. A hand.

 

Savara's hand, he realized.

 

Her touch brought him back to the present. He realized he had been in a daze. At the moment Sonea had killed the Sachakan woman, the world had tilted and spun around him. Since then he had been aware of nothing but the thought of what she had done.

 

Well, almost nothing. Savara had said something. He frowned. Something about Akkarin having an apprentice. He turned to look at the woman at his side.

 

She smiled crookedly. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

 

He looked down. They were sitting on a section of the roof that was still intact. The top of the Hole had seemed a good place to watch the battle from. The roof was made of scraps of wood and the occasional patch of cracked tiles, leaving plenty of gaps. As long as they kept their weight on the beams, they were fairly safe.

 

Unfortunately, neither Cery nor Savara had considered the possibility that the combatants might knock their perch out from under them.

 

As the roof had collapsed, however, something had prevented Cery from falling. Before he could grasp how it was possible that he and Savara could be floating in the air, they had moved to the remaining area of roof, out of sight of the fighters below.

 

Everything about Savara now suddenly made sense: how

 

she knew when a new murderer arrived, how she knew so much about the people the High Lord was fighting, and why she was so confident she could kill these murderers herself.

 

"So, when were you going to tell me?" he asked.

 

She shrugged. "When you trusted me enough. I might have ended up like her if I had told you at the start." She looked down at the corpse Gol and his assistants were dragging away.

 

"You still might," he said. "Itis getting hard to tell the difference between you Sachakans."

 

Her eyes flashed with anger, but her voice was calm as she replied.

 

"Not all magicians in my country are like the Ichani, Thief. Our society has many groups . . . factions . . ." She shook her head in frustration. "You do not have a word that quite suits. The Ichani are outcasts, sent into the wasteland as punishment. They are the worst of my country. Do not judge us all by them.

 

"My own people have always feared the Ichani would band together one day, but we have no influence over the King, and cannot persuade him to stop this tradition of banishment to the wastes as punishment. We have watched them for many hundreds of years, and killed those most likely to control others. We have tried to prevent what is happening here, but we must be careful not to show our hand, as many in Sachaka need only a small excuse to attack us."

 

"Whatis happening here?"

 

She hesitated. "I'm not sure how much I may tell you." To Cery's amusement, she began chewing her lip like a child questioned by its parent. At his chuckle, she looked at him and frowned. "What?"

 

"You don't seem the sort to ask for anyone's say so."

 

She returned his gaze steadily, then looked down. Following her gaze, Cery saw that Gol and the body were gone.

 

"You did not expect to see her, did you?" she said softly. "Does it disturb you, to see your lost love kill another?"

 

He stared at her, suddenly uncomfortable. "How did you know that?"

 

She smiled. "It is in your face, when you see her or talk of her."

 

He looked down at the room. An image of Sonea leaping at the woman flashed through his mind. Her face had been set with determination. She really had come a long way from the uncertain girl who had been so dismayed to discover she had magical abilities.

 

Then he remembered how the expression on her face had changed when Akkarin had brushed something out of her hair.

 

"It was a childhood crush," he told Savara. "I've known for a long time that she's not for me."

 

"No, you have not," she said, setting the roof creaking as she shifted her weight. "You only learned that tonight."

 

He turned back to face her. "How can you—"

 

To his surprise, she had edged closer. As he turned to face her she put a hand behind his head, pulled him nearer and kissed him.

 

Her lips were warm and strong. He felt heat rush through his body. Reaching out, he tried to pull her closer, but the piece of wood he was sitting on slid sideways and he felt himself losing his balance. Their lips parted as he began to fall backward.

 

Something steadied him. He recognized the touch of magic. Savara smiled mischievously, leaned forward and grabbed his shirt. She dropped her shoulder to the roof and pulled him over her, and the supports creaked alarmingly as they rolled farther away from the damaged area. When they stopped, she was lying on top of him. She smiled—the breathtakingly sensual smile that always set his pulse racing.

 

"Well," he said. "This is nice."

 

She laughed quietly, then bent to kiss him again. He hesitated only a moment, as a feeling, like a premonition, touched the edge of his thoughts.

 

The day Sonea discovered her magic, she belonged somewhere else. Savara has magic, too. And she already belongs somewhere else ...

 

But right now, he didn't care.

 

Lorlen frowned and blinked open his eyes. His bedroom was mostly dark. The light of the full moon set his window screens glowing faintly, making the gold Guild symbols appear as stark black shapes on the fine paper.

 

Then he realized why he was awake. Someone was hammering on his door.

 

What time is it?Sitting up, he massaged his eyes in an attempt to rub away sleepiness. The hammering continued. He sighed, rose and staggered out of his bedroom to the main door of his rooms.

 

Lord Osen stood outside, looking dishevelled and frantic.

 

"Administrator," he whispered. "Lord Jolen and his family have been murdered."

 

Lorlen stared at his assistant. Lord Jolen. One of the Healers. A young man, recently married.Murdered?

 

"Lord Balkan has sent for the Higher Magicians," Osen said urgently. "You're to meet in the Day Room. Would you like me to go back, while you get dressed, and tell them you're on your way?"

 

Lorlen glanced down at his bed clothes. "Of course."

 

Osen nodded, then hurried away. Lorlen closed the door and walked back into his bedroom. He took down a set of blue robes from his cupboard and began to change.

 

Jolen was dead. So was his family. Murdered, according to Osen. Lorlen frowned as his mind began to fill with questions.How was this possible? Magicians were not easy to kill. The murderer was either knowledgeable and clever, or another magician.Or worse, he thought. Ablack magician.

 

He looked down at his ring as dreadful possibilities began to form in his mind.

 

No,he told himself.Wait until you've heard the details.

 

He tied the sash of his robe about his waist, then hurried out of his room. Once outside the Magicians' Quarters, he strode across the courtyard to the building called The Seven Arches. The leftmost room of this building was the Night Room, where the weekly social gathering of magicians was held. The room at the center was the Banquet Room. On the right side of the building was the Day Room, a place created for receiving and entertaining important guests.

 

As Lorlen entered he blinked at the sudden brightness. The Night Room was all dark blue and silver but, in contrast, the Day Room was decorated in shades of white and gold, now lit by several globe lights. The effect was harsh.

 

Seven men stood in the center of the room. Lord Balkan and Lord Sarrin nodded to Lorlen. Director Jerrik was talking to the two Heads of Studies, Peakin and Telano. Lord Osen was standing next to the only man not wearing robes.

 

As Lorlen recognized Captain Barran, his heart sank. A magician was dead, and the captain investigating the strange murders was here. Perhaps the situation was as bad as he feared.

 

Balkan stepped forward to greet him. "Administrator."

 

"Lord Balkan," Lorlen replied. "I guess you'll want me to hold my questions until Lady Vinara, Administrator Kito and the High Lord arrive."

 

Balkan hesitated. "Yes. But I have not summoned the High Lord. My reasons will be explained soon."

 

Lorlen endeavored to look surprised.

 

"Not Akkarin?"

 

"Not yet."

 

They turned as the door opened. A Vindo magician entered. Kito's role as Expatriate Administrator kept him outside of the Guild and Kyralia most of the time. He had returned from Vin only a few days ago to deal with the rogue magician Dannyl was bringing for trial.

 

Lorlen remembered Akkarin's prediction:The Guild will lose interest in the murderer once Ambassador Dannyl arrives with the rogue, Lorlen.

 

If this is as bad as I fear,Lorlen thought, Ithink the situation will be quite the opposite.

 

As Balkan greeted Kito, Captain Barran approached Lorlen. The young guard managed a grim smile.

 

"Good evening, Administrator. This is the first time the Guild has brought my attention to a murder, instead of the other way around."

 

"Really?" Lorlen replied. "Who informed you?"

 

"Lord Balkan. It seems Lord Jolen managed to communicate with him briefly before he died."

 

Lorlen's heart skipped. Did Balkan know who the murderer was, then? As he turned to regard the Warrior, the door of the Day Room opened again and Lady Vinara stalked into the room.

 

She looked around at the faces, noting who was present, then nodded to herself. "You're all here. Good. I think, perhaps, we should be seated. We have a serious and shocking situation to deal with."

 

Chairs at the sides of the room floated to the center. Captain Barran's expression was a mixture of fascination and awe as he watched the chairs arrange themselves into a circle. Once everyone was seated, Vinara looked at Balkan.

 

"I think Lord Balkan should begin," she said, "as he was the first to be alerted to the murders."

 

Balkan nodded in agreement. He looked around the circle. "Two hours ago my attention was caught by a mental call from Lord Jolen. It was very faint, but I heard my name and detected great fear. When I concentrated on it, however, all I caught was the identity of the caller, and the sense that he was being harmed by another—with magic—before the communication ended abruptly. I attempted to call Lord Jolen, but received no answer.

 

"I informed Lady Vinara of the communication, and she told me Lord Jolen was staying with his family in the city. She could not contact him either, so I decided to visit the family home. When I arrived, no servant came to open the door. I unlocked it, and found a terrible scene inside."

 

Balkan's expression darkened. "The entire household had been killed. I searched the house, discovering the bodies of Jolen's family and servants as I went. I investigated the victims, but could find nothing more than scratches and braises. Then I found Jolen's body."

 

He paused, then Lord Telano made a noise of confusion.

 

"Hisbody? How can it still be whole? Did he exhaust himself?"

 

Vinara, Lorlen saw, was staring at the floor, shaking her head.

 

"I then called to Vinara, to ask her to come and examine the victims," Balkan continued. "After she arrived, I hurried

 

to the Guard House to see if they had received any reports of strange activity in the area. Captain Barran was there, having just interviewed a witness." Balkan paused. "Captain, I think you should relate her tale to us."

 

The young guard glanced around the circle, then cleared his throat.

 

"Yes, my lords—and lady." He folded his hands together. "With the increase in murders taking place, I have interviewed many witnesses lately, but few have seen anything useful. Some people come in the hope that something they have seen—say, a stranger walking about their street at night—might be relevant. This woman's story was much the same, but there was one striking element to it.

 

"She had been walking home late after delivering fruit and vegetables to one of the houses in the Inner Circle. Part way home, she heard screams inside a house—the residence of Lord Jolen's family. She decided to hurry on, but as she reached the next house, she heard a noise behind her. She was frightened and stepped into the shadows of a doorway. Looking back, she saw a man emerge from the servants' entrance of the house she had just passed."

 

Barran paused and looked around the circle. "She said this man wore magicians' robes. Black magicians' robes."

 

The Higher Magicians frowned and exchanged glances. All except Balkan and Osen looked doubtful, Lorlen noted. Vinara did not look surprised.   ,

 

"Was she sure they were black?" Sarrin asked. "Any color may look black in the darkness."

 

Barran nodded. "I asked her the same question. She was sure of it. He walked past the doorway she was hiding in. She described black robes, with an incal on the sleeve."

 

Expressions changed from skepticism to alarm. Lorlen stared at Barran. He could hardly breathe.

 

"Surely n—" Sarrin began, but fell silent as Balkan gestured for him to wait.

 

"Go on, Captain," Balkan said quietly, "tell them the rest."

 

Barran nodded. "She said his hands were covered in blood, and he was carrying a knife. She described it well. A curved blade, with gemstones set into the handle."

 

A long pause followed, then Sarrin drew in a deep breath. "How reliable is this witness? Can you bring her here?"

 

Barran shrugged. "I took her name and noted the workplace on her token. To tell the truth, I did not begin to give her story any credit until I heard what Lord Balkan had discovered in the house. Now I wish I had asked her more questions, or kept her at the Guard House longer."

 

Balkan nodded. "She will be found again. Now," he turned to Vinara, "perhaps it is time to hear what Lady Vinara has discovered."

 

The Healer straightened. "Yes, I fear it is. Lord Jolen was living with his family so that he could tend to his sister, who was having a difficult pregnancy. I investigated his body first and I made two disturbing discoveries. The first . . ." she reached into her robe and pulled out a scrap of black cloth embroidered with gold thread, "was this, clutched in his right hand."

 

As she held it up Lorlen went completely cold. The embroidery formed part of a symbol that was all too familiar to him: the incal of the High Lord. Vinara's eyes flickered to his and she frowned with concern and sympathy.

 

"What was the second discovery?" Balkan asked, his voice low.

 

Vinara hesitated, then drew in a deep breath. "The reason Lord Jolen's body still exists is because it was completely drained of energy. The only wound on his body was a shallow cut down one side of his neck. The other bodies bore the same indicators. I was taught to recognize these indicators by my predecessor." She paused and looked around the circle. "Lord Jolen, his family and their servants, were killed with black magic."

 

Gasps and exclamations followed, then a long silence as the implications began to sink in. Lorlen could almost hear them thinking about Akkarin's strength, and weighing the chances of the Guild defeating him in battle. He saw fear and panic in their faces.

 

He felt strangely calm and . . . relieved. For over two years he had been burdened with the secret of Akkarin's crime. Now, for better or worse, the Guild had discovered

 

that secret for itself. He looked around at the Higher Magicians. Should he admit to having known of Akkarin's crime?Not unless I have to, he thought.

 

Then what should he do? The Guild was no stronger, and Akkarin—if he was guilty of this crime—was certainly no weaker. He felt a familiar fear chase away his relief.

 

To protect the Guild, I should do anything I can to prevent a confrontation between it and Akkarin. But if Akkarin did this . . . No, he may not have. I know other black magicians have been killing Kyralians.

 

"What do we do?" Telano asked in a small voice.

 

All turned to regard Balkan. Lorlen felt the tiniest stirring of indignation at that. Wasn't he the Guild's leader, in lieu of Akkarin? Then Balkan looked at him expectantly, and he felt a wry regret as the familiar weight of his position settled over him.

 

"What do you suggest, Administrator? You know him best."

 

Lorlen forced himself to sit a little straighter. He had rehearsed what he would tell them in this situation so many times.

 

"We must be cautious," he warned. "If Akkarin is the murderer, he will be even stronger now. I suggest we consider this very carefully before confronting him."

 

"How strong is he?" Telano asked.

 

"He easily overcame twenty of our strongest magicians when we tested him for the position of High Lord," Balkan replied. "With black magic, there is no way to tell how strong a magician is."

 

"How long has he been practicing it, I wonder?" Vinara said darkly. She looked at Lorlen. "Have you ever noticed anything odd about Akkarin, Administrator?"

 

Lorlen did not have to pretend to be amused by the question. "Odd? Akkarin? He's always been mysterious and secretive, even to me."

 

"He could have been practicing for years," Sarrin muttered. "How strong does that make him?"

 

"What bothers me is how he came by the knowledge," Kito added quietly. "Did he learn it during his travels?"

 

Lorlen sighed as they began discussing all the possibilities he had considered since discovering the truth for himself. He gave them some time, then, just as he was considering interrupting, Balkan spoke up.

 

"For now, it does not matter how or where he learned black magic. What matters is whether we can defeat him in a confrontation."

 

Lorlen nodded. "I have doubts about our chances. I think, perhaps, we should keep this to ourselves—"

 

"Are you suggesting we ignore this?" Peakin exclaimed. "Leave a black magician at the head of our Guild?"

 

"No." Lorlen shook his head. "But we need time to consider how we may remove him safely if, indeed, he is the murderer."

 

"We're not getting any stronger," Vinara pointed out. "He is."

 

"Lorlen is right. Careful planning is essential," Balkan replied. "I was taught bymy predecessor the means by which a black magician may be fought. It is not easy, but neither is it impossible."

 

Lorlen felt a stirring of interest and hope. If only he had been able to consult with the Warrior before Akkarin had discovered Lorlen knew his secret. Perhaps they had a chance of removing Akkarin after all.

 

He caught himself, then. Did he really want Akkarin dead?But what if he didkill Jolen and his household? Doesn't he deserve to be punished for that?

 

Yes,but we had better be sure it was him.

 

"We should also consider that he may not be the killer," Lorlen said. He looked at Balkan. "We have the account of a witness and a scrap of cloth. Could another magician have dressed as Akkarin? Could he have put that scrap of material in Jolen's hand?" Something occurred to Lorlen, then. "Let me see it again."

 

Vinara handed him the scrap. Lorlen nodded as he examined it. "Look, it has been cut off, not torn. If Jolen had been able to do this, he must have had a blade of some sort. Why didn't he simply stab his attacker instead? And it is strange, don't you think, that the killer didn't notice his sleeve had

 

been cut? A clever murderer would not leave behind such evidence—or wander out into the street carrying the weapon he used."

 

"So you think it might have been another Guild magician, trying to convince us that Akkarin is guilty of his crimes?" Vinara asked, frowning. "I suppose it is possible."

 

"Or a magician not of the Guild," Lorlen added. "If Dan-nyl can find a rogue in Elyne, it is possible that others exist."

 

"We've seen no other evidence of a rogue magician in Kyralia," Sarrin protested. "And rogues tend to be untrained and ignorant. How would a rogue learn black magic?"

 

Lorlen shrugged. "How would any magician learn black magic? In secret, obviously. We might not like the idea, but whether the killer is Akkarin or someone else, he learned black magic somehow."

 

The others paused to consider this.

 

"So perhaps Akkarin isn't the killer," Sarrin said. "If he isn't, he knows we must investigate in the usual fashion, and will cooperate with us."

 

"But if he is, he may turn on us," Peakin added.

 

"So what should we do?"

 

Balkan rose and began pacing. "Sarrin is right. If he is innocent, he will cooperate. If he is guilty, however, then I believe we should act now. The number of deaths that have occurred tonight, with no effort to hide the evidence, has the appearance of the preparations of a black magician who is planning for a fight. We must confront him now, or we may leave it too late."

 

Lorlen's heart skipped. "But you said you needed time to plan."

 

Balkan smiled grimly. "I said that careful planning makes all the difference. It is part of my duties as Head of Warriors to ensure we are always ready to face such a danger. The key to success, according to my predecessor, is to catch the enemy by surprise, when he is isolated from his allies. My servant has informed me that only three people remain within the High Lord's Residence at night. Akkarin, his servant, and Sonea."

 

"Sonea!" Vinara exclaimed. "What is her role in this?"

 

"She dislikes him," Osen said. "I would even say she hates him."

 

Lorlen looked at his assistant in surprise.

 

"How so?" Vinara asked.

 

Osen shrugged. "An observation I made when she became his favorite. Even now, she doesn't like to be in his company."

 

Vinara looked thoughtful. "I wonder if she knows anything. She could be a valuable witness."

 

"And ally," Balkan added. "So long as he doesn't kill her for her strength."

 

Vinara shuddered. "So how are we going to separate them?"

 

Balkan smiled. "I have a plan."

 

Their guide for the return journey through the underground passages was the same hard-eyed boy. As they followed him, Sonea felt the turmoil of her thoughts settle into a reasonable calm. By the time the guide left them, she was full of new questions.

 

"She was Ichani, wasn't she?"

 

Akkarin glanced at her. "Yes, a weaker one. I can't imagine how Kariko persuaded her to come here. A bribe, perhaps, or blackmail."

 

"Will they send more like her?"

 

He considered. "Perhaps. I wish I'd had the opportunity to read her mind."

 

"Sorry about that."

 

His mouth curled up at one side. "Don't apologize. I prefer that you are alive."

 

She smiled. During the journey back he had been distant and thoughtful. Now he seemed anxious to return. She followed him down the passage. They reached the alcove filled with rocks. As Akkarin regarded them, the rocks began to form stairs. Sonea waited until the scrape of stone against stone had ended before posing her next question.

 

"Why did she have a ring of House Saril and an expensive shawl in the alcove?"

 

Halfway down the stairs he stopped and turned back to stare at her.

 

"She did? I..."

 

His gaze shifted somewhere beyond her. The same thoughtful frown he had worn for the last hour returned. Then his expression darkened.

 

"What is it?" she asked.

 

He held up a hand to silence her. As Sonea watched, he drew in a sharp breath and his eyes widened. Then he uttered a curse she had assumed only slum dwellers knew.

 

"What is it?" she repeated.

 

"The Higher Magicians are in my residence. In the underground room."

 

Her breath caught in her throat. A coldness rushed through her body.

 

"Why?"

 

Akkarin's gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the walls of the passage.

 

"Lorlen .. ."

 

Sonea felt her stomach knot. Surely Lorlen hadn't decided to rally the Guild against Akkarin.

 

Something in Akkarin's expression kept all questions locked in her throat. He was thinking hard, she guessed. Making difficult choices. Finally, after a long silence, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 

"Everything changes from here," he said, looking up at her. "You must do what I say, no matter how difficult you find it."

 

His voice was quiet and strained. She nodded and tried to hold back a growing fear.

 

Akkarin climbed back up the stairs until they stood face to face. "Lord Jolen was murdered tonight, with his family and household, probably by the woman you just killed. That is why she had a shawl and a ring of House Saril—trophies, I suspect. Vinara found a scrap of my robes in Jolen's hand—no doubt cut from my sleeve by the Ichani during our first confrontation—and she has recognized that the deaths were caused by black magic. A witness saw someone dressed as me leave the house carrying a knife." He looked

 

away. "I wonder where the Ichani got the robes from, and where she put them . .."

 

Sonea stared at him. "So the Guild thinks you're the killer."

 

"They are considering the possibility, yes. Balkan had rightly decided that, if I am innocent I will cooperate, and if I am guilty I must be confronted without delay. I was considering how I would deal with this, and what you should do and say, when the situation changed just now."

 

He paused and sighed heavily. "Balkan wisely planned to isolate me from you and Takan. He sent a messenger with news of Jolen's death and a summons to meet with the Higher Magicians. When he heard I wasn't at the residence, he sent for you. He hadn't discussed with the others what he would do if you weren't there either, so I assumed he would do so next, and I'd hear of his intentions through Lorlen. But he must have already formed a plan." Akkarin frowned. "Of course he had."

 

Sonea shook her head. "This has been going on while we were on our way back, hasn't it?"

 

Akkarin nodded. "I could not say anything, with our guide present."

 

"So what did Balkan do?"

 

"He returned to the residence and searched it."

 

Sonea went cold as she thought of the books and objects Balkan would find in the underground room. "Oh."

 

"Yes. Oh. They didn't break into the underground room at first. But once they found books on black magic in your room, they became more determined to search every corner."

 

Sonea's blood turned to ice. Books on black magic. In her room.

 

They know.

 

The future she had envisioned flashed before her eyes. Two more years of training, graduation, choosing a discipline, perhaps persuading the Healers to help the poor, perhaps even convincing the King to stop the Purge.

 

None of it would happen. Ever.

 

The Guild knew she had sought knowledge of black

 

magic. The punishment for that crime was expulsion. If they knew she had learned black magic, and used it to kill. . .

 

But she had done it, and risked her future, for a good reason. If the Ichani invaded, graduation or stopping the Purge would never happen anyway.

 

Rothen is going to be very, very upset.

 

She put that thought out of her mind with an effort. She needed to think. Now that the Guild knew, what should they do? How would she and Akkarin continue to fight the Ichani?

 

It was clear they couldn't return to the Guild. They would have to hide in the city. Avoiding discovery by the Guild would make everything harder, but not impossible. Akkarin knew the Thieves. She had a few useful connections, too. She looked at Akkarin.

 

"What do we do now?"

 

He looked down the staircase. "We go back."

 

She stared at him. "To the Guild?"

 

"Yes. We tell them about the Ichani."

 

Her heart skipped.

 

"You said you didn't think they'd believe you."

 

"I don't. But I have to give them the opportunity."

 

"But what if they don't believe you?"

 

Akkarin's gaze wavered. He looked down. "I am sorry I brought you into this, Sonea. I will protect you from the worst of it, if I can."

 

She caught her breath, then silently cursed herself. "Don't apologize," she told him firmly. 'It was my decision. I knew the risks. Tell me what I must do, and I will do it."

 

His eyes widened slightly. He opened his mouth, then his gaze grew distant again.

 

"They're taking Takan away. We must hurry."

 

He disappeared down the stairs. Sonea hurried after. As he strode into the maze of passages she glanced back.

 

"The stairs?"

 

"Leave them."

 

She broke into a run and caught up with him. Keeping pace with his long strides was difficult, and she bit back a comment about him having some consideration for people with shorter legs.

 

"Two people must be protected through all this," he said. "Takan and Lorlen. Mention nothing of Lorlen's ring, or of his prior knowledge of any of this. We may need him in the future."

 

All too soon he slowed and stopped before the door to the underground room. He took off his coat, folded it and placed it beside the door. Then he unbuckled the belt of the knife sheath and set it on top. A globe light sparked into life above their heads. Akkarin shuttered the lamp and placed it beside the coat.

 

For a long time he stood regarding the door to the underground room, his bare arms crossed over his black vest. Sonea waited silently beside him.

 

It was difficult to believe that this had happened. Tomorrow she was supposed to be studying how to heal broken ribs. In a few weeks the mid-year tests would start. She felt a pull toward the door, a strange feeling that she had only to find her way to her bed, and she would wake up to find everything continuing as it always had.

 

But the room beyond was probably filled with magicians waiting for Akkarin's return. They knew that she had learned about black magic. They suspected Akkarin had killed Jolen. They would be ready for a fight.

 

Still Akkarin remained motionless. She was just beginning to wonder if he was going to change his mind when he turned to look at her.

 

"Stay here until I call you in."

 

Then he narrowed his eyes at the door and it silently slid open.

 

The backs of two magicians blocked the way into the room. Beyond them, Sonea could see Lord Balkan pacing the room slowly. Lord Sarrin was sitting at the table, regarding the items on it with a puzzled frown.

 

They didn't notice the door open. Then one of the magicians standing in front of the doorway shivered and glanced over his shoulder. Seeing Akkarin, he sucked in a breath and backed away, dragging his companion with him.

 

All heads turned to watch as Akkarin stepped into the room. Even without the outer part of his robes, he still looked imposing.

 

"My, what a lot of visitors," he said. "What brings you all to my residence so late at night?"

 

Balkan's eyebrows rose. He looked toward the stairway. Hurried footsteps could be heard, then Lorlen stepped into view. The Administrator turned to regard Akkarin, his expression unexpectedly composed.

 

"Lord Jolen and his household were murdered tonight." Lorlen's voice was calm and controlled. "Evidence has been found that has given us cause to suspect you are the murderer."

 

"I see," Akkarin said quietly. "This is a serious matter. I did not kill Lord Jolen, but you will have to work that out for yourselves." He paused. "Will you explain to me how Jolen died?"

 

"With black magic," Lorlen said. "And since we have just found books on black magic in your house, including in Sonea's room, we have even more reason to suspect you."

 

Akkarin nodded slowly. "Indeed you have." The corner of his mouth curled upward. "And you must all be frightened out of your wits by the discovery. Well, now. No need to be. I will explain myself."

 

"You will cooperate?" Lorlen asked.

 

"Of course."

 

The relief on every face was clear to see.

 

"But I have one condition," Akkarin added.

 

"What is that?" Lorlen replied warily. Balkan glanced at him.

 

"My servant," Akkarin replied. "I made him a promise once that he would never have hfs freedom taken from him again. Bring him here."

 

"And if we don't?" Lorlen asked.

 

Akkarin took a step to one side. "Sonea will go in his place."

 

Sonea felt her skin prickle as the magicians noticed her standing in the passage. She shivered as she considered what they must be thinking. Had she learned black magic? Was she dangerous? Only Lorlen might hope she would rebel against Akkarin; the rest did not know the real reason she had become the High Lord's novice.

 

"Bring them both here, and he will have two allies at hand," Sarrin warned.

 

'Takan is not a magician," Balkan said quietly. "So long as he remains out of Akkarin's reach, he is no threat to us." He looked at the other Higher Magicians. "The question is: would you prefer to have Sonea in custody, or the servant?"

 

"Sonea," Vinara replied without hesitation. The others nodded.

 

"Very well," Lorlen said. His gaze flickered to the distance, then back again. "I have ordered him to be brought."

 

A long, tense silence followed. Finally, footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. Takan appeared, his arms firmly held by a Warrior. He was pale and anxious.

 

"Forgive me, master," he said. "I couldn't stop them."

 

"I know," Akkarin told him. "You should know better than to try, my friend." He took several steps away from the passage entrance, stopping beside the table at one side of the room. "The barriers are down and I have left the stairs open. You will find what you need just outside the door."

 

Takan nodded. They stared at each other, then the servant nodded again. Akkarin turned toward the passage.

 

"Come in, Sonea. When Takan is released, go to Lorlen."

 

Taking a deep breath, Sonea stepped into the room. She looked at the Warrior holding Takan, then at Lorlen. The Administrator nodded.

 

"Let him go."

 

As Takan stepped away from his captor, Sonea started toward Lorlen. The servant stopped as he reached her, and bowed.

 

'Take care of my master, Lady Sonea."

 

"I'll do what I can," she promised.

 

Her throat was suddenly tight. As she reached Lorlen she turned to watch the servant leave. He bowed to Akkarin, then stepped into the passage. When he had disappeared into the darkness, the panel slid back into place.

 

Akkarin turned to face Lorlen, then looked down at the table and chairs beside him. The top part of his robes were still draped over the back of a chair. He picked up the black garment and shrugged into it.

 

"So, Administrator, how can Sonea and I help you in your investigations?"

 

15

 

 Bad News

 

Rothen had just donned a fresh set of robes when he heard the door to his rooms open.

 

"Lord Rothen?" Tania called.

 

Hearing the urgency in his servant's voice, he hurried to the bedroom door. Tania was standing in the middle of the room, wringing her hands.

 

"What is it?" he asked.

 

She turned to regard him, her expression pained. "The High Lord and Sonea were arrested last night."

 

He drew in a breath, and felt hope and relief surge through him. Akkarin arrested at last! The Guild must have discovered his crime—and confronted him—and won!

 

But why would the Guild arrest Sonea, too?

 

Why indeed?Excitement withered away and was replaced by a familiar, nagging fear.

 

"What were they arrested for?" he forced himself to ask.

 

Tania hesitated. "I only heard it fourth or fifth hand, Rothen. It could be wrong."

 

"What for?" he repeated.

 

She grimaced. "The High Lord was arrested for murdering Lord Jolen and his household, and for learning some kind of magic. Black magic, I think? What is that?"

 

"The evilest of all magics," Rothen replied heavily. "But what of Sonea? What was she arrested for?"

 

Tania spread her hands. "I'm not sure. As his accomplice, perhaps."

 

Rothen sat down in one of the guestroom chairs. He tooka long, deep breath. The Guild would have to consider the possibility that Sonea was involved. That didn't mean she was guilty of the charges.

 

"I didn't bring any food," Tania said apologetically. "I knew you'd want to know as soon as possible."

 

"Never mind," he said. "It doesn't look like I'll have time to eat this morning, anyway." He rose and took a step toward the door. "I think I had better have a little chat with Sonea."

 

Tania's smile was strained. "I thought you might. Let me know what she says."

 

The young man sitting opposite Dannyl in the carriage was painfully thin. Though Farand had recovered well enough to walk in the week since his poisoning, it would still be some time before he regained his full strength. But he was alive, and very grateful for it.

 

Dannyl had watched over the young man night and day throughout the voyage. It had been easy enough to hold back sleep and weariness with his Healing powers, but doing so always took a toll. After a week, he felt almost as bad as Farand looked.

 

The carriage turned into the Guild gates. Farand drew in a quick breath as the University came into view.

 

"It's beautiful," he breathed.

 

"Yes." Dannyl smiled and looked out of the window. Three magicians stood at the bottom of the stairs: Administrator Lorlen, Expatriate Administrator Kito and Lady Vinara.

 

Dannyl felt a little twinge of anxiety and disappointment. He had hoped the High Lord would meet him.But he'll probably want to discuss everything in private.

 

The carriage pulled up in front of the stairs, and Dannyl climbed out. As Farand followed, the three Higher Magicians regarded him with wary curiosity.

 

"Ambassador Dannyl," Lorlen said. "Welcome back."

 

"Thank you, Administrator Lorlen. Administrator Kito, Lady Vinara," Dannyl replied, inclining his head. 'This is Farand of Darellas."

 

"Welcome, young Darellas," Lorlen said. "I'm afraid you

 

will find us somewhat preoccupied with another matter in the next few days. We will make you as comfortable as possible, and deal with your unique situation as soon as this other matter is resolved."

 

"Thank you, Administrator," Farand replied uncertainly.

 

Lorlen nodded, then turned away and started up the University stairs. Dannyl frowned. There was something odd in Lorlen's manner. He seemed even more harassed than usual.

 

"Come with me, Farand," Vinara said to the young man. She looked at Dannyl and her expression became grim. "Get some sleep, Ambassador. You need to make up for what you've lost."

 

"Yes, Lady Vinara," Dannyl agreed. As she led Farand away, he looked at Kito questioningly.

 

"What is this other matter that Administrator Lorlen spoke of?"

 

Kito sighed heavily. "Lord Jolen was murdered last night."

 

"Murdered?" Dannyl stared at him. "How?"

 

The magician grimaced. "With black magic."

 

Dannyl felt his face grow cold. He glanced at the carriage where the book lay deep within his travel trunk.

 

"Black magic? Who . .. ?"

 

"The High Lord has been arrested," Kito added.

 

"Akkarin!" Dannyl felt the chill spread through his body. "Not him!"

 

"I'm afraid so. The evidence is damning. He has agreed to assist with our investigations. There will be a Hearing tomorrow."

 

Dannyl barely heard him. Strange coincidences and occurrences were shifting into new places in his mind. He thought of the research Lorlen had asked him to begin, then cease. He thought of Rothen's sudden interest in the same information—just after Sonea had become Akkarin's favorite. He thought of what the Dem's book had revealed. Ancient magic—higher magic—was black magic.

 

He'd assumed Akkarin's search had ended without this discovery.

 

It seemed he was wrong.

 

Had Lorlen suspected this? Had Rothen? Was this the reason for the research?

 

And I was going to give that book to Akkarin!

 

"We will discuss the rogue after the Hearing," Kito said.

 

Dannyl blinked, then nodded. "Of course. Well, I had best obey Lady Vinara's orders."

 

The Vindo magician smiled. "Sleep well, then."

 

Dannyl nodded, then started toward the Magicians' Quarters. Sleep? How could he sleep after learning this?

 

Icontinued this research with Akkarin's blessing, and I've got a book on black magic in my trunk. Will that be enough for me to appear guilty of the same crimes? I could hide the book. I'm certainly not going to be giving it to Akkarin... or discussing anything with him.

 

He drew in a quick breath as he realized what this meant for him personally. Who was going to believe Akkarin now, when he explained that Dannyl and Tayend's relationship was just a ruse to entrap the rebels?

 

The last time Sonea had been inside the Dome had been during her training for the Challenge. It was a huge, hollow stone sphere, once the practice room of Warriors. The Guild had abandoned it after the Arena had been built, but she had used it while preparing for the fight with Regin so that her lessons would not be observed by him or his supporters. Akkarin had strengthened the walls to ensure she did not damage them. Ironically, his magic was now helping to keep her imprisoned.

 

Not that she intended to make any escape attempts. She had told Akkarin she would do whatever he instructed. He had said only that they must protect Takan and Lorlen. Then he had exchanged her for Takan. So he had meant for her to be here.

 

Either that, or he was willing to sacrifice her for the sake of keeping the promise he had made to his servant.

 

No,she thought,he needs me to back up his story. Takan was too close to Akkarin. Nobody would believe him.

 

She paced the Dome interior. The plug-like door remained open to allow air into the room. A pair of magi-

 

cians stood beyond it, watching her whenever she was alone.

 

But she hadn't been alone much. Vinara, Balkan and Sarrin had each questioned her about Akkarin's activities. She did not want to risk revealing anything before Akkarin was ready, so she had refused to answer. They had eventually given up.

 

Now that she was alone at last, she found she didn't like it. She kept wondering where Akkarin was, and if she was doing what he wanted by keeping silent. It was impossible to tell the time, but she guessed it was well past dawn now. She hadn't slept all night, but she doubted she would have even if there had been a soft bed instead of the sandy floor.

 

A movement beyond the door caught her eye. Looking up, she felt her heart twist painfully.

 

Rothen.

 

He stepped into the Dome, his face lined with worry. As she met his eyes, he tried to smile, and she felt her stomach sink with guilt.

 

"Sonea," he said, "how are you?"

 

She shook her head. "That's a silly question, Rothen."

 

He looked around the Dome and nodded. "Yes. I suppose it is." He sighed and looked at her again. "They haven't decided what to do with you yet. Lorlen told me they found books on black magic in your room. Were they planted there by Akkarin or his servant?"

 

She sighed. "No. I was reading them."

 

"Why?"

 

'To understand my enemy."

 

He frowned. "You know that just reading about black magic is a crime."

 

"Yes, I know."

 

"Yet you read them?"

 

She met his eyes. "Some risks are worth taking."

 

"In the hope that we could use this information to defeat him?"

 

She looked down. "Not exactly."

 

He paused. "Then why, Sonea?"

 

"I can't tell you. Not yet."

 

Rothen took a step closer. "Why not? What has he told

 

you to make you an accomplice? We've found your aunt Jonna and uncle Ranel. They're safe and well as are their children. Dorrien is alive and well. Is there anyone else you're protecting?"

 

She sighed.The whole ofKyralia.

 

"I can't tell you, Rothen. Not yet. I don't know what Akkarin has told anyone, or what he wants me to reveal. It'll just have to wait until the Hearing."

 

Rothen's eyes flashed with anger. "Since when have you cared about what he wants?"

 

She held his gaze. "Since I learned the reasons for what he does. But that is his story, not mine. You will understand why, when he tells it."

 

He regarded her doubtfully. "I find that hard to believe. But I will try. Is there anything I can do for you?"

 

She shook her head, then hesitated. Rothen knew that Lorlen had been aware of Akkarin's crime for more than two years. What would happen if he told the Guild this? She looked up at him.

 

"Yes," she said quietly. "Protect Lorlen."

 

Savara ran a hand over the sheets and smiled.

 

"Nice."

 

Cery chuckled. "A Thief has to make his guests feel welcome."

 

"You are not like other Thieves," she remarked. "He had a hand in all this, didn't he?"

 

"Who?"

 

"The High Lord."

 

Cery humphed in indignation. "Wasn'tall him."

 

"No?"

 

"Part of it was 'cause of Sonea. Faren agreed to hide her from the Guild, but the other Thieves made him turn her in. So some say Faren didn't honor his side of the deal."

 

"So?"

 

"If I was willing to deal with Faren, other people would too. He helped me out with a few things."

 

"So Akkarin had nothing to do with it?"

 

"Well, a little," Cery admitted. "Maybe I wouldn't have

 

had the guts if he hadn't pushed me. Maybe if he hadn't given me all the right news about each of the Thieves, so they wouldn't try to stop me. It's hard to say no to someone who knows too many of your secrets."

 

She looked thoughtful. "Sounds like he had planned this for a long time."

 

"That's what I thought." Cery shrugged. "When the murderer started to get the other Thieves riled, I offered to find him. They liked that. They didn't know I'd been onto it for months. They act like it's funny I haven't found him, though—but none of them have had any luck either."

 

"But youdo find them."

 

"They think there's only one."

 

"Ah."

 

"At least I think they did," he added.

 

"And now they know, because the last one was a woman."

 

"Probably."

 

He looked around the room at the furniture. Quality pieces, but not extravagant. He did not like to think it wasall due to Akkarin's help.

 

"I've tried to make my place in other ways," he said. "If the market for finding murderers for magicians dries up, I want to stay alive and in business."

 

She smiled slyly and ran a finger slowly down the middle of his chest.

 

"I definitely prefer you alive and in business."

 

He caught her hand and pulled her closer. "Do you? What sort of business are you into?"

 

"Making contact with potential allies," she said, snaking her arm around him. "Preferably very close contact with one in particular."

 

Her kisses were firm and enticing. He felt his heart beginning to race again.

 

Then someone knocked on the door. He pulled away and grimaced apologetically. "Got to get this."

 

She pouted. "Must you?"

 

He nodded. "Gol wouldn't knock unless it was important."'

 

"Better be."

 

He rose, pulled on his trousers and a shirt, and slipped out of the room. Gol was pacing Cery's guestroom, his expression very different from the foolish grin Cery was expecting.

 

"The High Lord's been arrested by the Guild," Gol said. "So's Sonea."

 

Cery stared at his second. "Why?"

 

"A Guild magician was killed last night. And a whole lot of people in his house. They think the High Lord did it." He paused. 'The whole city knows about it."

 

Moving to the nearest chair, Cery sat down. Akkarinarrested? Formurder? And Sonea, too? He heard the door of his bedroom open. Savara peered out, now fully dressed. As she met his eyes, she frowned.

 

"Can you tell me?"

 

He smiled briefly, amused by her question. "The High Lord's been arrested. The Guild thinks he murdered a Guild magician last night."

 

Her eyes widened. She moved into the room. "When?"

 

Gol shrugged. "Don't know. Everyone in this magician's house was killed too. With some kind of bad magic. Black magic. Yes, that was it."

 

She drew in a quick breath. "So it is true, then."

 

"What is true?" Cery asked.

 

"Some of the Ichani claim the Guild do not know high magic and say it is evil. Akkarin uses it, so we thought this could not be true." She paused. "So that is why he works in secret. I had thought he did not want others to know that his past actions contributed to this situation."

 

Cery blinked. "What past actions?"

 

She looked at him and smiled. "Oh, there is more to your High Lord than you know."

 

"How so?"

 

"That is not for me to say," she said. "But I can tell you that—"

 

She stopped at a knock on the wall. Cery nodded to Gol. The big man approached the wall, checked its spy hole, then pulled aside a painting. One of the boys Cery employed for odd jobs peered in.

 

"There's a man wants to see you, Ceryni. He gave a big

 

code word, and says he's got bad news about a friend of yours. Says it's urgent."

 

Cery nodded, then turned to look at Savara. "I better see what this is."

 

She shrugged and returned to the bedroom. "I will have a bath, then."

 

Turning away, Cery found Gol grinning.

 

"Get that look off your face," Cery warned.

 

"Yes, Ceryni," the man replied humbly, but the grin remained as he preceded Cery into the passage.

 

Cery's office was a short distance away. There were several ways of getting in and out of it. Gol chose the standard route, giving Cery a moment to observe the visitor in the waiting room through a spy hole.

 

The man was Sachakan, Cery saw with dismay. Then he recognized the coat and his heart skipped.

 

Why was this man wearing the coat Akkarin had worn the night before?

 

As the man turned, the coat parted to reveal a Guild servants' uniform.

 

"I think I know who this is," Cery breathed. He moved to the door of his office. "Send him in as soon as I sit down."

 

A few minutes later, Cery was seated at his desk. The door to his office opened and the man entered.

 

"So," Cery said, "you say you got bad news about a friend of mine."

 

"Yes," the man replied. "I am Takan, servant to the High Lord. He has been arrested for the murder of a Guild magician. He has sent me to assist you."

 

"Assist me? How?"

 

"I can communicate with him by mind," Takan explained, touching his forehead.

 

"You're a magician?"

 

Takan shook his head. "We have a link, made by him long ago."

 

Cery nodded. "Then tell me something only he and I know."

 

Takan's gaze shifted to the distance. "The last time you met, he said he would not bring Sonea with him again."

 

"That's right."

 

"He regrets that he could not hold to that."

 

"So does Sonea, I'd guess. What's she been arrested for?"

 

Takan sighed. "Learning about black magic. They found books in her room."

 

"This black magic is ... ?"

 

"Forbidden," Takan said. "She faces expulsion from the Guild."

 

"And the High Lord?"

 

Takan looked genuinely distressed. "He has been charged with murder and using black magic. If they find him guilty of either, the punishment is execution."

 

Cery nodded slowly. "When will the Guild decide?"

 

"They will hold a Hearing tomorrow to examine the evidence and judge whether he is guilty or not."

 

"Is he?"

 

Takan looked up, and his eyes flashed with anger. "He did not murder Lord Jolen."

 

"What of this charge of black magic?"

 

The servant nodded. "Yes, he is guilty of that. If he had not used it, he would not have been able to defeat the murderers."

 

"And Sonea. Is she guilty?"

 

Takan nodded again. "The Guild has only charged her with learning about black magic. That is why she faces a lesser punishment. If they knew the truth, she would face the same charges as Akkarin."

 

"She used black magic to kill the woman, didn't she?"

 

Takan looked surprised. "Yes. How did you know that?"

 

"A lucky guess. Should I go to this Hearing as a witness?"

 

The man paused, and his gaze shifted to the distance. "No. He says thank you for the offer. You should not reveal your involvement. If all goes well, he may need your help in the future. For now, he has only one favor to ask."

 

"Yes?"

 

"That you ensure the Guard find the body of the murderess. And make sure she is wearing her knife."

 

Cery smiled. "I can do that."

 

Looking out of his office window, Lorlen saw that Akkarin was still in the same position as before. He shook his head.

 

Somehow Akkarin still managed to look dignified and self-assured, even when he was sitting on the Arena floor, with his back against one of the supports, and with twenty magicians standing around the Arena, watching him.

 

Turning away, Lorlen surveyed his office. Balkan paced in the middle. Lorlen had never seen the Warrior this agitated. He had heard Balkan mutter something about betrayal earlier. That was understandable. Lorlen knew the Warrior had held Akkarin in high esteem.

 

Sarrin sat on one of the chairs, leafing through one of the books from Akkarin's chest. They had decided one of them must be allowed to read them, even though doing so was a crime. Sarrin's expression was a mixture of horror and fascination. Occasionally he would mutter quietly to himself.

 

Vinara stood quietly by the shelves. Earlier, she had called Akkarin a monster. Balkan had reminded her that they could not be sure Akkarin had done anything more than read about black magic. She hadn't been convinced.

 

When it came to the subject of Sonea, however, she looked distressed and uncertain.

 

Lorlen looked down at the objects on his desk: shards of broken glass, a partly melted silver fork, and a dish coated with dried blood. The others were still puzzled about the items. The little globe of glass they had found on the table had confirmed Lorlen's guess. Had Akkarin been creating another ring like Lorlen's, or had he been teaching Sonea how to make them?

 

Like Sonea, Akkarin had refused to answer any questions. He was determined to wait until the entire Guild had assembled for the Hearing before he explained himself. So much for cooperation.

 

That's unfair,Lorlen thought. He considered the ring in his pocket. Akkarin had told Lorlen to take it off and keep it at hand. If Sarrin continued reading the books, he would learn about such rings and recognize what Lorlen was wearing. Lorlen had considered discarding the ring altogether, but he could see advantages in keeping this link with Akkarin. His former friend still seemed inclined to confide in him. The only disadvantage was that Akkarin could

 

eavesdrop on conversations when Lorlen was wearing it, but that was less of a problem now. Lorlen could stop Akkarin listening by simply taking off the ring.

 

Akkarin wanted to keep Lorlen's prior knowledge of his interest in black magic a secret.

 

—The Guild needs a leader they trust,Akkarin had sent.Too much change and uncertainty will weaken it.

 

Rothen and Sonea were the only other people who knew. Sonea had remained silent, and Rothen had agreed to keep Lorlen's involvement to himself so long as it brought no further harm. In return, Lorlen had allowed the magician to visit Sonea.

 

At a polite knock on the door, all looked up. Lorlen willed the door open and Captain Barran stepped inside, Lord Osen following. The guard bowed and addressed them formally, then turned to face Lorlen.

 

"I have visited the shop the witness works at," he said. "Her employers say she did not appear this morning. We checked her home address, and her family told us she did not return home last night."

 

The Heads of Disciplines exchanged glances.

 

"Thank you, Captain," Lorlen said. "Is there anything else?"

 

The young man shook his head. "No. I will return tomorrow morning, as you requested, unless further information comes my way."

 

"Thank you. You may go."

 

As the door closed, Vinara sighed. "No doubt the guard will find her body in the next few days. He was certainly busy last night."

 

Balkan shook his head. "But it doesn't make sense. How did he know about her? If he'd detected her watching, he would have ensured she didn't reach the Guard House."

 

Sarrin shrugged. "Unless he was unable to catch up with her. Then, when she left the Guard House, he made sure she'd be unable to give any more evidence against him."

 

Balkan sighed. "It's not behavior I would expect of a black magician. If he cared about hiding evidence, why be so careless earlier in the night? Why not disguise himself? Why—"

 

He stopped at another knock on the door. Lorlen sighed and willed it open. To his surprise, Dannyl stepped inside the office. Dark shadows lay under the Ambassador's eyes.

 

"Administrator," Dannyl said. "Might I have a word with you? In private?"

 

Lorlen frowned in annoyance. "Is this about the rogue, Ambassador?"

 

"Partly." Dannyl glanced at the others and appeared to choose his words carefully. "But not solely. I would not come to you if I did not feel I had urgent matters to discuss."

 

Vinara rose. "I am heartily sick of speculation, anyway," she declared. She gave Sarrin and Balkan direct and meaningful looks. "If you need us, Administrator, just call."

 

Dannyl stepped aside and inclined his head politely as the three magicians left the room. When the door closed, Lorlen moved to his desk and sat down.

 

"What urgent matter do you speak of?"

 

Dannyl approached the desk. "I'm not sure where to start, Administrator. I am in an awkward situation. Two awkward situations, if that is possible." He paused. "Though you said my help was no longer needed, I continued researching ancient magic out of my own interest. The High Lord, when he learned of this, encouraged me to continue, but by then there was little left to discover in Elyne. Or so I thought."

 

Lorlen frowned. Akkarin hadencouraged Dannyl to continue?

 

"Then, when my assistant and I were gaining the rebels' trust, we discovered a book in Dem Marane's possession." Dannyl reached into his robes and drew out an old book. He placed it on Lorlen's desk. "It answered many questions we had about ancient magic. It seems the form of ancient magic known as higher magic is actually black magic. This book contains instructions on its use."

 

Lorlen stared at the book. Was this a coincidence, or had Akkarin known the rebels had the book? Or had he been workingwith the rebels? He drew in a quick breath. Was this how he learned black magic?

 

If so, then why turn them in?

 

"So you see," Dannyl said. "I am in an awkward position.

 

Some might consider that I have researched black magic with the High Lord's permission, and that Akkarin's orders to capture the rebels were an attempt to gather more knowledge." He grimaced. "In truth, I have read part of that book, which means I have broken the law against learning about black magic. But I didn't know what it contained until I began reading."

 

Lorlen shook his head. No wonder Dannyl was worried. "I understand your concern. You could not have known what the research would lead to. I didn't know what the research would lead to. If anyone thought to suspect you, they would have to suspect me as well."

 

"Should I explain all this at the Hearing?"

 

"I'll discuss it with the Higher Magicians, but I don't think it will be necessary," Lorlen replied.

 

Dannyl looked relieved. "There is one other matter," he added quietly.

 

More? Lorlen stifled a groan. "Yes?"

 

Dannyl looked at the floor. "When the High Lord requested that I find the rebels, he suggested that my assistant and I cause them to know something that could be used to blackmail us into cooperating. Akkarin said he would ensure the Guild knew that this information was merely a deception created to gain the rebels' trust." Dannyl looked up. "But obviously Akkarin is no longer in a position to do that."

 

Abruptly, Lorlen remembered a conversation with Akkarin beside the Arena, while they were watching Sonea fighting.

 

"The Guild will lose interest in the murderer once Ambassador Dannyl arrives with the rogue, Lorlen."

 

Had he been referring to more than the existence of the rebels? What was this information that Dannyl had created to gain the rebels' trust?

 

He looked at Dannyl; the man glanced away, clearly embarrassed. Slowly Lorlen began to piece together scraps of gossip he'd heard, until he had guessed what Dannyl had let the rebels believe.

 

Interesting,he thought.And a bold move, considering the troubles Dannyl faced as a novice.

 

What should he do? Lorlen rubbed his temples. Akkarin had been so much better at this sort of thing.

 

"So you fear that nobody will believe what Akkarin says about you, because his integrity is m question."

 

"Yes."

 

"Is the integrity of these rebels any stronger?" Lorlen shook his head. "I doubt it. If you are worried that nobody will believe Akkarin, then let people believe it was your own idea."

 

Dannyl's eyes widened. He straightened and nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Administrator."

 

Lorlen shrugged, then looked at Dannyl a little closer. "You look as if you haven't slept for a week."

 

"I haven't. I didn't want someone to undo all the hard work I'd done in saving Farand's life."

 

Lorlen frowned. "Then you had best go back to your rooms and rest. We may need you tomorrow."

 

The young magician managed a tired smile. He nodded at the book on Lorlen's desk. "Now that I've gotthat off my hands, sleep shouldn't be a problem anymore. Thank you again, Administrator."

 

As he left, Lorlen sighed.At least someone is going to get some sleep.

 

16

 

The Hearing

 

Sonea's first thought as she began to wake was that Viola hadn't come to wake her, and she was going to be late for classes. She blinked away the fuzziness of sleep. Then she felt sand between her fingers and saw the faintly illuminated stone wall of the Dome around her, and she remembered.

 

That she had slept at all amazed her. The last she could recall of the previous night was lying in darkness, thoughts of the day to come running in circles through her mind. It had taken all her will to resist calling out to Akkarin mentally, to ask him if she should tell the Guild anything yet, or simply to know where he was, if he was being treated well... or if he was still alive.

 

In her worst moments of doubt, she could not shake the thought that the Guild might have passed judgment on him already, without telling her. The Guild of the past had been frighteningly thorough in its efforts to rid the Allied Lands of black magic. Those long-dead magicians would have executed Akkarin without delay.

 

And me,she thought, with a shiver.

 

She wished again that she could talk to him. He had said he would tell the Guild about the Ichani. Did he intend to admit to learning black magic, too? Did he mean for them to know she had as well?

 

Or was he going to deny using black magic? Or admit to it himself, but claim she had done nothing wrong?

 

But shehad. An unwanted image of the dead Ichani woman flitted through her mind. With it came intense, but contradictory feelings.

 

You're a killer,a voice in her mind accused.

 

Ihad to, she thought in reply.There was no choice. She would have killed me.

 

But you would have done it anyway,her conscience replied,even if there had been a choice.

 

Yes. To protect the Guild. To protect Kyralia.Then she frowned.Since when have I been so concerned about killing, anyway? I would have killed without hesitation, if I'd been attacked in the slums. In fact, I may have killed already. I don't know if that thug who dragged me off the street survived after I stabbed him.

 

That's different. You didn't have magic then,her conscience pointed out.

 

She sighed. She could not help thinking that, with all the advantages that having magic abilities gave her, she ought to be able to avoid killing anyone. But the Ichani had wielded magic, too.

 

She had to be stopped. I happened to be in a position to stop her. I don't regret killing her, only that I had to in the first place.

 

Her conscience fell silent.

 

Keep bothering me,she told it.I'd rather that, than kill and not feel bad about it.

 

Still nothing.

 

Great.She shook her head.Maybe that old superstition about the Eye is true. Not only am I having conversations with myself, but now I'm refusing to talk to me. This has got to be the first sign of madness.

 

A sound outside drew her attention back to the room. Sitting up, she saw the Warrior guards step aside as Lord Osen stopped in the doorway. A globe light flared above his head, filling the spherical room with light.

 

"The Hearing is about to begin, Sonea. I'm here to escort you to the Guildhall."

 

Suddenly her heart was racing. She stood up, brushed the sand off her robes, and walked to the door. Osen stepped back and allowed her to pass.

 

A short set of stairs led to another open door. She paused as she saw the circle of magicians waiting beyond. Her escort was a collection of Healers and Alchemists. The Warriors and the stronger magicians of the Guild would be guarding Akkarin, she guessed.

 

They watched her intently as she stepped out into the middle of the circle. Seeing the suspicion and disapproval in their expressions, she felt her face grow warm. She turned around to see that her two Warrior guards had completed the circle. Osen stepped through a momentary break in the barrier they held around her.

 

"Sonea," he said. "Your guardian is accused of murder and of practicing black magic. As his novice, you will be questioned about your knowledge of these matters. Do you understand?"

 

She swallowed to wet her throat. "Yes, my lord."

 

He paused. "Due to the discovery of books on black magic in your room, you will also be accused of learning about black magic."

 

So she, too, was to be judged.

 

"I understand," she replied.

 

Osen nodded. He turned to face the gardens beside the University. 'To the Guildhall, then."

 

The escort kept pace as Osen led her to the path alongside the University. The grounds were empty and eerily quiet. Only their footsteps and the occasional chirrup of a bird broke the silence. She thought of the families of magicians, and the servants that populated the grounds. Had they been sent away, in case Akkarin sought to overtake the Guild?

 

When the escort had nearly reached the front of the University, Osen suddenly stopped. The magicians surrounding them exchanged worried looks. Realizing they were listening to a mental communication, she focused her senses.

 

— ...says he will not enter until Sonea is here, Lorlen sent.

 

—What shall we do?Osen asked.

 

—Wait. We will decide.