NO RETURN

It had been a rough night at sea, and Dannyl had been relieved when the Inava had turned into a small, sheltered bay in the early afternoon. Though Achati had planned for them to spend most nights on land, the further north they sailed the greater the distance was between port towns. Tayend had taken an extra dose of the seasickness cure the night before and promptly fallen asleep, something which Dannyl had eventually begun to envy. Though Dannyl could Heal away the ill effects of sea travel, the heaving of the ship meant that staying in bed sometimes took some effort. Finally, a few hours before dawn, the storm passed and he got some sleep, but all too soon they had to get up again.

Achati had arranged for them to stay at the estate of a friend, who was currently visiting the city. They had the place all to themselves – bar the slaves of course. The slaves, who had been told to treat their master’s guests well, had a delicious meal ready and escorted them to baths built around a natural hot spring that Achati said were not to be missed.

It looked like Tayend would miss them, however. He had to be half carried off the ship by a slave, then lifted into the waiting carriage. He’d snored loudly all the way to the estate and roused himself only long enough to follow a slave to the guest quarters. The slaves reported that he fell asleep as soon as he reached a bed.

Achati and Dannyl headed for the baths together. These turned out to be one long room, a door at each end, with no windows but with an opening in the ceiling that revealed the starry night sky. Steaming pools of water ran down the room’s length, each pouring into the next, with a path that wound beside and, in one place, over a pond via a curving bridge. A metallic, salty tang hung in the air.

“The closest pool is warm,” Achati said as he began to strip off his clothes. “It’s for cleaning, and drains separately. Once you are clean, you can start at the next pool and move down the room until you find one that suits you. The ones at the centre are hot, then they grow cooler again until the last, which is cold.”

“They finish with a cold pool?”

“Yes. To wake you up. It’s very refreshing. But if you wish to go to sleep straight after a bath it is recommended you get out of one of the warmer pools. There are absorbent coats down there to put on to keep yourself warm.” Achati, who was down to just his trousers, looked at Dannyl, who hadn’t begun to undress. “The slaves will clean your clothes and take them back to your room.”

Dannyl nodded, then began removing his clothes. Public bathing had gone out of fashion in Imardin a hundred or so years ago. It was well known that baths (and some records rather snarkily claimed bathing as well) had been introduced by the Sachakans when they had conquered Kyralia. Bathing had remained popular, but not the public aspect. The Guild’s baths were divided into private rooms, as were the facilities in the city – though he’d heard that some bathhouses associated with brothels had larger pools for mixed bathing.

Elyne still had a few public baths, but men and women used them separately, and wore a modest shift of heavy cloth. Dannyl had visited them a few times with Tayend, when he had been Guild Ambassador to Elyne. It had been fashionable to lament the passing of the good old days of nude bathing, but nobody tested the apparent common opinion that it was better stripping off completely.

Of all the more confronting Sachakan habits – slavery, black magic – surely this should be the easiest to adapt to. Though I haven’t heard of any public baths in Arvice. Maybe it has gone out of fashion in Sachaka, too. I can’t imagine them allowing their women to bathe publicly.

Achati had removed all his clothes now, and was stepping into the first pool. His darker skin was suddenly more obvious, and though Achati was smaller in size than the average Sachakan man, he had the same broad shoulders and sturdy frame. Taking a deep breath, Dannyl shrugged off the outer magician’s robe and stepped out of his trousers. He made himself turn around, walk to the pool and step into the water.

He’d been expecting heat, but the water was tepid. Achati’s expression was neutral as he indicated a bowl at the pool’s edge that contained bars of soap. He was surrounded by a slick of soapy residue, which concealed his body beneath the water. The pool was large. Plenty of room for the both of them – possibly enough for four. Dannyl concentrated on the details, not wanting to think too much on the fact that he was naked in the company of a man who had indicated he wanted there to be more than just friendship between them.

The soap was strange. It contained grit, which scratched Dannyl’s skin and left red lines. As Achati stepped out of the pool, Dannyl noted that any such marks weren’t as noticeable on the Sachakan’s skin.

He finished scrubbing himself, then rose and followed Achati to the next pool.

This one was hot. Seats had been built into the sides. Dannyl felt his skin smart at the temperature. Achati did not stay there for long, but moved from pool to pool until he found one that he proclaimed the most comfortable.

“Hot enough?” he asked Dannyl.

Dannyl nodded. “Very.”

“Go on to the next one. I’ll stay here. We can claim one each and still chat.”

So Dannyl stepped down to the next pool, which was pleasantly warm. “Ah. Yes. That’s the one.” He settled into a seat alcove from which he could easily turn and talk to Achati. Though he was growing used to being unclothed, he had to admit to feeling a little relieved that they were now separated by the low wall of the upper pool.

Achati chuckled.

“What is it?” Dannyl asked, when his companion didn’t explain the source of his humour.

The Sachakan smiled crookedly. “You. I thought you’d turn and run.”

“From this?” Dannyl shrugged. “I’ll admit it’s a new experience, and not a completely comfortable one.”

“And yet you managed it. With me here, as well.”

Dannyl tried to think how best to answer that, but before he managed to, Achati continued.

“You’ve been doing very well keeping me at arm’s length.”

Dannyl couldn’t think of anything smart to say to that, either.

“Have I?” he managed.

“Yes. Having Tayend ask to come along was a clever move.”

Dannyl straightened in surprise and indignation. “I didn’t have Tayend ask to come along.” He scowled. “He came up with that idea all by himself.”

Achati’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Dannyl thoughtfully. “I think I believe you.”

“It’s true,” Dannyl told him, trying to avoid sounding offended, and not quite succeeding. “Though it’s also true I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length.”

“Why?”

Dannyl looked away and sighed. “Consequences. Conflicting loyalties. That sort of thing.”

“I see,” Achati said quietly. He was silent for a while, then suddenly rose and moved into Dannyl’s pool. Once settled, he sighed deeply. “That is better.” Then he looked at Dannyl. “You’re worrying about the wrong things, Ambassador Dannyl.”

Dannyl met Achati’s eyes. “Am I?”

“Yes. My loyalties lie first with Sachaka and my king.” Achati’s eyes flashed. “Yours are with Kyralia, your king, the Guild and the Allied Lands – though not necessarily in that order. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing should.” He smiled thinly. “Think of it this way: if my king ordered me to kill you, I would. Without hesitation.”

Dannyl stared at the man. Achati’s eyes were hard and his expression challenging. He means what he says, but then, wouldn’t I do the same, if we became enemies? Probably. I would feel bad about it, but … how likely is it? He pushed that thought aside. What is true is that I’d feel bad about it no matter how close we were, and it’s not that we could ever do anything to make others doubt our loyalties, like having children or getting married …

It wasn’t as if Achati wanted any commitment. For once, that appealed. While Dannyl ought to have been repelled by the man’s admission that he’d kill him if ordered to … it was strangely exciting.

“So … you wouldn’t hesitate? Not even a little bit?” he asked.

Achati smiled and pushed away from the wall, moving to the centre of the pool.

“Well, maybe a little bit. You could come here and convince me how long I should hesitate for.”

Chuckling at his friend’s invitation, Dannyl moved to the middle of the pool. For a few heartbeats they stared at each other. Time seemed to slow and stop.

Then both froze as muffled voices came from the direction of the bathhouse entrance. They quickly moved apart and stood up so they could see who was there. Dannyl was relieved to see the door was still closed.

The voices fell silent, then there was a tapping at the door. Achati glanced at Dannyl, his annoyance gratifyingly obvious. “I gave the slaves orders that we weren’t to be disturbed unless it was urgent.”

“You had better find out what’s wrong,” Dannyl replied.

Achati stepped out of the pool and brought a coat to him with magic. He shrugged into it and moved to the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened. Dannyl quickly schooled his face as he saw Tayend peer around it. The more annoyed I look, the more he’ll suspect. Inside he felt as if his blood was boiling with fury.

“Am I interrupting?” Tayend said. “The slaves said you were here, and after you said we had to try these baths it seemed rude not to come and see them.”

“Of course not,” Achati replied. He waved Tayend toward the cleansing bath and explained the procedure.

Then, as he walked back to join Dannyl, he smiled and silently mouthed a promise.

Later.

Not long after arriving at the Care Room, a magician came to escort Lorkin to the stone-makers’ caves. He was a little reluctant to leave, as the woman who had replaced Kalia was still working out where everything was stored and learning which ailments the patients occupying the beds were recovering from. But she shooed Lorkin away when the escort arrived.

“Go,” she’d ordered. “I will work it all out.”

“I’ll come back later,” he promised.

The magician escort had smiled shyly at him and said little as she led him to the caves. It was so unusual for a Traitor woman to be shy and awkward that he resisted trying to draw her into a conversation. If growing up in a place where women were powerful hadn’t helped to make her bold and confident, then the awkwardness must run very deep – and challenging it might do more harm than good.

She led him deep into the city, further inside the mountain than most Traitors liked to live. The passage became winding, and they passed openings into caves on either side. He’d figured it prudent not to show too much interest in them the last time he’d passed, when being escorted out of the cave Evar had shown him. Now he was free to glance inside.

The caves were of varying sizes and shapes. Some effort had obviously been put into levelling the floor in places, but the uneven and angular walls had obviously been left untouched. In a larger room, Lorkin noted that walkways had been fixed to the walls to allow access to higher parts of them.

In all of the caves he saw spreads of glittering colour, on walls, ceilings and even, in a few instances, on floors.

None of the caves had doors. It seemed a strange omission in a part of the city that contained such magical secrets. But perhaps the secrets can’t be extracted from the stones. Perhaps they can only be passed on mind to mind, like black magic. Or perhaps they were kept in books in a secure room somewhere.

The winding corridor ended at another cave. The guide continued through it, to where another cave joined it, then another. There had been fissures in the walls and floor of the passage, easily stepped over. Now they passed over bigger cracks via bridges made of slabs of the same stone as the walls.

And then they arrived at a door.

The escort knocked, then smiled at him and walked away quickly, before he could thank her. He turned back to find the door open. A voice called out.

“Come in Lorkin.”

He recognised the voice as Speaker Savara’s. Stepping inside the room, he saw that she and Speaker Halana were sitting in two seats of a ring of five. Savara gestured to one of the chairs, and he sat down.

“Are you aware of the responsibilities of each of the Speakers?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Well, at least some of them. Speaker Riaya organises meetings, elections, judgements and such, Speaker Kalia oversaw health, Speaker Shaiya controls the production of food and supply of water, and you are in charge of defence.”

“That is correct. Speaker Lanna’s responsibility is living arrangements and Speaker Yvali’s is education. Speaker Halana’s,” she nodded at the other woman, “is stone-making.”

He looked at Speaker Halana and inclined his head in respect. “So you will be my teacher?”

The woman nodded. “I will. If you agree to it.”

He smiled. “I can think of no reason why I would not.”

Halana did not return his smile, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. Something about her expression sent a warning chill up his spine. He frowned and looked at Savara.

“Is there are a reason why I would not?”

She smiled wryly. “Possibly. I may have mentioned before that I once travelled to Kyralia. I visited Imardin for a while, before and during what you call the Ichani Invasion.”

He stared at her in surprise. “You saw the invasion?”

Her expression was serious now. “Yes. We keep an eye on the Ichani, since they are always on the move and sometimes venture too close to Sanctuary. Mostly they are harmless, too occupied in fighting each other to cause us trouble. But any signs that they are uniting, as you can imagine, are alarming. Fortunately for us, the last time they did that their intent wasn’t to cause us trouble. Unfortunately for your people, their attention had turned to Kyralia.

“We noticed that they were sending slaves into Kyralia, so I went to investigate their purpose. The events that I witnessed made it very obvious that the Guild does not use, and in fact forbids, higher magic.”

Lorkin nodded and looked down. “It is called black magic. And it is no longer forbidden.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And yet its use is restricted. Only a few know how to use it.”

“Yes.”

“And if our spies are correct, the knowledge that those few have is incomplete, too.”

He met her eyes. “I don’t know, since I’m not one of the few allowed to know it.”

“You’re not,” she said, holding his gaze, “or weren’t?”

He looked away. She was asking … what was she asking? If he still considered himself a Guild magician. But there was an unspoken question behind the one she’d asked him: did he want to retain the option of being one again? If he learned black magic, he might never be able to rejoin the Guild.

She could be simply offering to teach it to him instead of stone-making, but he doubted that.

This could be a test to see if he meant to take the stone-making knowledge straight back to the Guild. But that didn’t make sense. The queen hadn’t said anything about him not being allowed to pass on the knowledge. But she hadn’t said he could, either.

“I am asking you this,” Savara said quietly, “because to teach you stone-making, we will have to teach you higher magic.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Oh.”

“And I’m asking if that would prevent you from ever returning to the Guild.”

“I see …” Suddenly it all made sense. The queen felt that he was owed something of equal value in compensation for the Healing knowledge that had been stolen from him. The only magic he did not have was black magic and stone-making. Since he needed the former in order to achieve the latter, they both came at the same price: he could never go home. And that must mean they have considered the possibility that one day they might let me go …

How would the Guild react to him knowing black magic? Would they forgive it, when he revealed he had found a new way for them to defend themselves? Then his heart sank. I was hoping to find a way that would replace black magic, not use it. If stone-making involves using black magic, then I have failed. The Guild might not accept it.

He realised, then, that he didn’t truly believe that. The Guild would never turn down the opportunity to learn a new kind of magic, especially if using the stones didn’t involve using black magic. It would only have to restrict who could learn it.

If they wanted the benefit of the magical gemstones, the Guild would have to accept that Lorkin had learned black magic in order for them to have it. If they didn’t … well, they can have me and gemstones, or neither. Just as I have to accept that I can have stone magic and black magic, or nothing at all.

And if the Guild rejected him … well, he would return to Sanctuary. Traitor society was not without its flaws, but what land or people was? Yet the thought of never returning to Imardin brought a pang of regret. There must be some way he could visit his mother, Rothen and his friends.

That is something I’ll have to work out later. This is more important. It could be disastrous if the Ashaki gain this magic before the Guild does. I can’t contact Osen and ask him to hold a meeting to decide. I have to take this opportunity to learn stone-making, and hope that the Guild doesn’t reject me for it.

He looked at Savara.

“Knowing black magic might prevent me from returning permanently,” he told her. “I may only ever be able to visit. I’m willing to take that risk, if you assure me that there will always be a home for me in Sanctuary.”

She met his eyes levelly, then looked at Halana. The other woman nodded. Savara turned back and smiled. “So long as you never break our laws, you will be welcome to live among us.”

“Thank you.”

“And now,” she said, standing up and gesturing to Halana. “Now it is time we completed your education.” She patted him on the shoulder as she passed. “No doubt you’re more worried about the higher magic. Don’t worry. It’s the easy part.”

Halana rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Don’t pay any attention to her,” she said. “She’s right that higher magic is easy to learn but stone-making really isn’t that difficult, if you have patience, diligence and focus.”

Lorkin glanced back at Savara to see the woman shake her head in disagreement before she closed the door. “And if you don’t?” he asked, turning back to Halana.

The woman shrugged. “That depends on the stone you’re raising. If it’s meant to produce heat and you lose concentration … can those Healing powers of yours treat burns?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

She smiled. “Well, then. With an advantage like that, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

It hadn’t surprised Sonea to find that Cery wasn’t waiting under the sweet shop, and that instead there was a message instructing them how to find him. She, Dorrien and Nikea had disguised themselves as a couple and their daughter looking to expand their trade in gathering and preparing rag for paper production. The message led them to a bolhouse, through a small night market and a bathhouse, before they found themselves climbing out of a basement to find that Cery had taken over a neat and surprisingly well-decorated home for the night.

Where the occupants were, Sonea was reluctant to ask. Signs of them were everywhere, from the toys visible through the open door of a bedroom, to the food half eaten at the table. They found Cery in a darkened room, sitting by a window. Gol had met them in the basement, and warned them not to create any lights.

“The meeting is supposed to take place in that room over there, on the second floor,” Cery told them, pointing out of the window.

Looking across, Sonea saw the lamp-lit guest room of a house across an alleyway. The alley was so narrow she could have stepped into the other room in a few strides, if there hadn’t been two walls between them.

They discussed how to approach the other building, and cut off the obvious escape routes. Cery hadn’t be able to get anyone close enough to check for hidden escape routes without them risking being seen. The house they were in got them as close as he dared. It was up to the magicians to find their way over to the room opposite, once the meeting began.

Sonea thrashed out a plan with Dorrien and Nikea, but they hadn’t a chance to put it in action. The room opposite remained empty.

The night passed slowly, and at every hour Cery grew increasingly withdrawn. He spoke less and less, and eventually they all remained silent, not wanting to voice their fears. Shoulders drooped and faces sank in disappointment as it became clear there would be no meeting, and no capture of Skellin or anyone else. When the walls outside the window began to lighten, Nikea finally broke the silence.

“What do you think? Should we conclude that the meeting was called off?”

All exchanged glances except Cery, who was staring at nothing.

“We’ll wait for news,” Sonea told him.

“If Anyi managed to slip away, or send a message through someone, where would they go?” Dorrien asked Cery.

Cery’s frown deepened. “She wouldn’t come here, or send a message here, in case it drew attention to us.” He rose, a movement that seemed abrupt after hours of stillness and silence. “Follow me.”

They obeyed, returning to the basement and retracing their steps to the bathhouse. There, the middle-aged woman who ran the house approached Cery nervously and handed him a slip of paper.

“I’m sorry. It came a few hours ago,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do with it. You never said I might get messages, or where to send them.”

“I never expected you to have to,” he said. “But thank you for keeping it safe.”

She looked relieved and made a quick retreat from the room. Cery read the note and sighed with relief.

“She’s alive and safe,” he told them. “But they’ve discovered that she was a spy.” He shook his head. “I wish I’d been able to arrange writing lessons for her.” He held out the slip of paper, with two scrawls on it. “We worked out a code, but it doesn’t give much detail.”

“You’ll be able to meet with her and find out what happened?” Dorrien asked.

Cery nodded. “How soon will depend on how much her employer and the Thief that controls him know about her, and if they are hunting for her.” His expression became grim again. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

Sonea put a hand over his. “I hope she’s all right. And pass on our thanks to her.”

He managed a wan smile. “All this, and we didn’t catch Skellin.”

“Well, let’s hear what she says before we call it a complete failure. Maybe she’s picked up some information we can still use.”

He nodded. “Then I had better get you back to the Guild with your own identities still concealed.” He beckoned. “Come on. I’ve made some arrangements.”