She pushed herself up onto her elbows. At once she was aware that she was no longer dressed in her robes. When had she changed into bedclothes? She grabbed the sheets to pull them up and cover herself, and felt something dry and powdery on the skin of her palms. She turned over her hands. Something dark had dried onto them.
Wine? I don’t remember getting it on my hands. And it would be sticky …
The magicians surrounded the bed. She looked up at them, recognising one of Lord Leiden’s Healer friends and … her heart stopped … Black Magician Kallen.
“Lady Lilia?” Kallen asked.
“Y-yes?” Lilia’s heart began beating again, much too fast. “What’s going on?”
“Lord Leiden is dead,” the Healer said.
She stared at him in horror. “How?” Even as she asked, a shiver of guilt ran down her spine. We tried to teach ourselves black magic last night? What were we thinking? “Where’s Naki?”
“HOW COULD YOU DO IT?” The voice was a shriek, but it was still recognisably Naki’s. Lilia winced. Her friend might have wished her father dead but she hadn’t … Someone pushed past the magicians and was grabbed by the Healer. Naki struggled to throw them off, while glaring at Lilia.
“You!” Naki growled.
“Me?” Lilia stared at her friend.
“You killed him!” Naki shouted. “My father!”
“I didn’t.” Lilia shook her head. “I fell asleep. Didn’t wake up.”
Naki shook her head in disbelief. “Who else could have? I shouldn’t have let you read that book. I just wanted to impress you.”
A chill ran down Lilia’s spine. Suddenly she was too conscious of Kallen’s gaze boring into her. “How did he die?” she asked weakly.
“Black magic,” Naki spat. Her gaze dropped. “What’s that? What’s on your hands?”
Lilia looked down at the dark stains. “I don’t know.”
“It’s blood, isn’t it?” Naki’s eyes widened in horror. “My father’s …” Then her eyes filled with tears, she spun about and ran from the room.
Lilia stared after her. She thinks I killed her father. She hates me. I’ve lost her. But … I didn’t kill her father. Or did I? Her memories of the night before were vague in places. That always happened when she drank too much wine or had too much roet. Her dreams – had they been dreams? – had included a fantasy where she’d got rid of Naki’s father, though they hadn’t dwelled on how.
“Did you kill Lord Leiden?” Black Magician Kallen asked.
She forced herself to look up at him. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Have you learned or attempted to learn black magic?”
How to answer that? She found she could not find the words. Her head was pounding so hard she thought it would split open at any moment.
“Lady Naki has confessed to an attempt to learn black magic from a book,” the Healer said. “She says that Lilia did as well.”
Lilia felt a traitorous relief. She nodded. “She has a book. Well, it is – was – her father’s. He keeps it in the library in a glass-topped table. She took it out and we read it – but it’s not supposed to be possible to learn black magic from a book.”
Kallen’s gaze was unwavering. “Yet it is still forbidden to try.”
She looked down. “I didn’t kill her father.” Again, doubt stirred and wound itself into her thoughts.
“Is this the accused?” a new voice said.
The magicians turned to look toward the door, allowing Lilia to see past them. She felt her stomach sink as she saw Black Magician Sonea approaching. Not that another black magician arriving made her situation any worse. She had always admired Sonea, though the thought of what she had done in her life made her very intimidating in person.
“Yes,” Kallen said, moving away from the bed. “I am going to the library to look for a book containing instructions on using black magic. They have both confessed to reading it. Could you read their minds?”
Sonea’s eyebrows rose, but she nodded. As Kallen left the room she turned to the other magicians.
“We should at least allow her to get dressed,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
“Find out what’s on her hands before she washes it off,” the Healer advised.
Lilia watched them go, then when the door was closed she slipped out of the bed.
“Let me see your hands,” Sonea said. She took them in her own hands, which seemed strangely small for a magician so powerful. Not that magic makes your hands get bigger, Lilia thought. Now that would be unpleasant. Lifting one of Lilia’s hands, Sonea sniffed, then drew Lilia over to the wash basin and poured some water in.
“Wash,” she ordered.
Lilia obeyed with some relief. The stain took some rubbing to come off, and coloured the water in swirls.
“We need more light,” Sonea muttered. She looked over to the screens covering the windows, which began to slide open. The room filled with morning light. Looking down, Lilia caught her breath.
The swirls of colour were red.
“But how …? I don’t remember …” she gasped.
Sonea was watching her thoughtfully. She stepped back. “Get changed,” she said, her tone somewhere between an order and a suggestion. “Then we’ll see what you remember.”
Lilia obeyed, changing into her novice’s robes as quickly as she could manage. When she’d finished tying the sash, she walked over to Sonea. The black magician reached out to touch the sides of Lilia’s head.
Lilia had never had her mind read by a black magician before. She’d never had it read by an ordinary magician either. Her lessons in the University had occasionally required a teacher to enter her mind, but novices were always taught to hide their thoughts behind imagined doors. In a cooperative mind-read, the subject was supposed to bring out the memories hidden behind the doors for the reader to see.
This was very different. At once Lilia was aware of the older woman’s presence in her mind. It was a distant thing, like hearing voices through a wall. Then she felt something influencing her thoughts. She could not sense the will behind it, so her instinctive effort to resist had no impact. Forcing herself to yield, she watched as memories of the night began to return.
Embarrassment and fear rose as she recalled Naki’s kiss, but she could detect no disapproval from Sonea. Her memories were a little less vague now that someone else was examining them, but with stretches of time that were indistinct.
One of those stretches was the time after Lilia had lain down next to Naki, after drinking the wine. Her thoughts had been murderous, she recalled with shame. But she did not remember actually murdering anybody. Except in her dreams. But were they dreams?
What if she had murdered Naki’s father while caught up in a wine- and roet-induced walking dream?
What if their experiment had worked, and she had learned black magic from a book?
—Oh, you most certainly did, Sonea’s voice spoke into her mind. It’s not supposed to be possible. Not even Akkarin believed it was. But there has been at least one other novice in history who learned it without the help of another magician, and the magicians of that time must have had reason to be so determined to destroy anything written about it. Unfortunately, being the one to prove we were wrong is not an achievement anybody is going to look favourably on. Why did you attempt it when you knew it was forbidden?
—I don’t know. I just went along with Naki. She told me … She’d told Lilia she trusted her. Would she ever again? I love her and she hates me!
Suddenly the loss and shock welled up and she burst into tears. Sonea’s touch disappeared from her head and moved to her shoulders, rubbing them gently but firmly as Lilia struggled to regain control of herself.
“I won’t tell you everything will be fine,” Sonea said, sighing. “But I think I can persuade them that it wasn’t exactly deliberate, and to choose a more lenient punishment. That will depend on what Naki remembers, though.”
A more lenient punishment? Lilia shive
red as she remembered what she had been taught in history classes. Akkarin was exiled only because the Guild didn’t know if it could defeat him. They would have executed him otherwise. But then, he had killed people with black magic. I haven’t … I hope.
If she hadn’t, Sonea would find no evidence in Naki’s mind. Suddenly Lilia badly wanted Sonea to go and find that out. The last urge to cry vanished.
“Are you all right now?” Sonea asked.
Lilia nodded.
“Stay here.”
The wait was torture. When Sonea finally returned, with Black Magician Kallen and the two other magicians following, her expression was grim.
“She did not witness the death of her father,” Sonea told her. “Nor is there any proof in her mind that you killed him, other than the manner of death and the blood on your hands. Either could be coincidence.”
Lilia sighed with relief. I didn’t do it, she told herself.
“Her memories of last night are very different to yours,” Sonea continued. “But not in ways that a misunderstanding would not explain.” She shook her head. “Despite what you recall sensing, she has not learned black magic.”
A bittersweet relief rose at that. At least Naki had not committed as great a crime as Lilia had, though she had tried to learn black magic, so Lilia doubted she would escape punishment completely.
Perhaps, now she knows I didn’t kill her father, we can face this together.
But when the magicians escorted Lilia out of the room, Naki was there, glaring at Lilia with an intensity that set her hopes withering.
CHAPTER 12
DELIBERATIONS
The sound of the underground river surrounded Lorkin as he stepped out of the tunnel. Tyvara was sitting on the bench seat, as before, gazing thoughtfully at the sewer waterwheel. He was tempted to call out to her mentally, but even if it would not reveal that they were meeting, the Traitors had even stricter rules forbidding mental communication than the Guild, since they could not risk that even the shortest call would be picked up by other magicians, and lead searchers to Sanctuary.
So he waited until she noticed him and beckoned.
“Lorkin,” she said as he stepped onto the ledge. “I wasn’t expecting you to have time to visit for a while. Isn’t the chill fever in the second stage?”
He nodded and sat down beside her. “It is. It’s why I’m here. But first, how are you?”
Her eyebrows rose in amusement. “You Kyralians. Always so formal. I’m fine.”
“Bored?”
She laughed. “Of course. But I get visitors. And …” She pulled a ring from one of her fingers and held it up for a moment before stowing it into a pocket. “People keep me informed on what’s happening in the city. I’ve just been told that Kalia is furious at you leaving, by the way.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have time to wait for things to quieten down.”
Tyvara frowned. “You’re not neglecting my people because of me, are you?”
“Yes and no.” He grimaced. Even with magician volunteers helping out in the Care Room, there was a lot of work to do. He couldn’t stay long. It was time to get to the point. “I need your advice.”
Her gaze became wary. “Oh?”
“It was inevitable that someone would get sick or be injured so badly that the only way they’d survive is if I Healed them,” he said. “I’ve always planned to help them. I’ve always known there would be consequences. I want to know what you think they’ll be, and if I can avoid or reduce them.”
She regarded him in silence, her expression serious, then nodded. “We have discussed this,” she said, and somehow, by a subtle change in her tone, he knew that she did not mean her and him, but her faction within the Traitors.
“And?”
“Savara thought you would refuse to Heal them. Zarala said you wouldn’t, but you’d wait to be asked.”
“Should I wait? Is Kalia ruthless enough to let the girl die?”
“She might be.” Tyvara scowled. “Her excuse will be that you made it clear Healing wasn’t something you were willing to give, and she was respecting your decision by not pestering you. People will have to decide if it was worse that she did not ask you, or that you did not offer, and they will probably favour her. You haven’t used your Healing powers before, and have not indicated that you would do anything but refuse if asked to.”
“So I shouldn’t wait. Will people regard my using Healing as flaunting what I refuse to teach them, and what my father failed to?”
“Perhaps. Not so much if you use it only in greatest need, when the patient would die otherwise.”
“What about those in pain?”
“It would show you have compassion, if you helped them, too.”
“A toothache hurts. As do many everyday ailments. At what point will people feel it is reasonable for me to refuse Healing? Will they expect I treat everything, once I start?”
She frowned, then suddenly grinned. “It might be worth the trouble, if it put Kalia out of a job.” Then she grew serious again and shook her head. “But that would be foolish. Kalia has too many supporters.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh he couldn’t hear over the rushing water. “There will be different opinions on when it is reasonable for you to refuse to Heal with magic, and a person’s opinion may change if they happen to be the one with the toothache. I think most people will agree that there’s a point where you are right to refuse, but it will be interesting to see if they allow you to be the one to decide that.”
He nodded. “Anything else?”
“Make sure you get the patient’s or parent’s permission before you do anything,” she added.
“Should I ask Kalia?”
She winced. “Zarala was most concerned about this. If you ask Kalia, she will forbid you to use magic to Heal anyone, insisting that you teach her how to instead. Then if the patient dies, it is still your fault for refusing. If you do not ask her, you will not have respected her as your superior, and as a man that is especially bad. But if you save someone’s life, people will forgive that disrespect. As many people dislike Kalia as support her.” She spread her hands. “In your defence, point out that nobody here has to seek permission from Kalia before treating a sick or injured Traitor. Patients choose to go to the Care Room.”
Lorkin sighed. “I can’t avoid annoying Kalia, but so long as I annoy as few other people as possible I’ll have to live with that.”
“And you’ll be saving lives,” she said.
He smiled in reply. “You Traitors have the easier decision,” he told her. “Keeping stone-making knowledge to yourselves doesn’t involve anybody dying.”
“You enjoy the benefits of the stones even if you don’t make them yourself,” she pointed out. “So why shouldn’t we get the benefits of magical Healing in return?”
He grinned. “Well, that makes it sound very fair and reasonable.”
“It would be, if it weren’t just one Kyralian benefiting from the stones and many, many Traitors potentially benefiting from your Healing magic.”
Meeting her gaze, he saw something there that made his heart lighten. She understands. And she’s letting me know that she understands – and perhaps agrees – with my reason for being here.
He suddenly had a strong urge to kiss her, but resisted it. After all, she hadn’t shown any sign of agreeing with his other reason for being in Sanctuary: her.
“Thank you,” he said, standing up.
“Good luck,” she replied.
Reluctantly he turned away and headed back to the tunnel. Though he knew that the decision he’d already made was going to cause him a lot of trouble, talking to Tyvara had reassured him that he could make it without the consequences being any worse than they needed to be.
The only decision he needed to make now was when.
When Dannyl arrived at the Guild House, returning from Achati’s home, he found Tayend and Merria enjoying a late-night drink and chat in the Master’s Room. He paused to consider t
hem. Achati’s arrangements for the journey to Duna were coming together quickly, and Dannyl would have to tell his assistant and the Elyne Ambassador about them sooner than he expected.
No point putting it off, he told himself. Walking over to the stools, he nodded toward the bottle of wine.
“Any left?”
Tayend grinned and waved to a slave standing against one wall. “Fetch another glass,” he ordered, then patted the larger stool in the centre of the seating meant for the house’s master. “We saved it for you.”
Dannyl snorted softly and sat down. Though he was the person of highest rank in the Guild House, he doubted Tayend would have avoided the seat for that reason.
“What have you both been doing?” he asked.
Tayend waved a hand dismissively. “More important people to visit, more delicious meals to consume. That sort of thing.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Dannyl told him. He looked at Merria.
She shrugged. “I went to see my new friends and gave them Black Magician Sonea’s message. You?”
The slave returned, offering the wine glass with bowed head and lowered eyes. Tayend picked up the bottle and filled the glass. Dannyl took a sip, then sighed with appreciation. “Ashaki Achati and I have been planning a trip to Duna. Looks like we’ll be leaving sooner than I expected: in a week – maybe even a few days.”
Merria’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Research or ambassadorial duties?” Tayend asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Mostly research,” Dannyl admitted. “Though it won’t hurt, politically.”
“It was the books from the market, wasn’t it?” Tayend looked smug.
“I guess in a way they did lead to Achati suggesting a research trip.” To Dannyl’s satisfaction, the smug look vanished.
“So when are we leaving?” Merria asked.
Dannyl lifted an eyebrow at her. “We?”
Her face fell. “You’re not taking me with you?”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“It’s a habit of his,” Tayend murmured. “Always leaving people behind.”