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 by my 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 did kill 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 Dannyl 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 a
ll 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 his 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.