She thought of her family’s disappointment, and quickly pushed the thought away. Best to dwell on only one confrontation full of shame and humiliation at a time.
They quickly passed through the spectacular entry hall of the University and down the corridor to the Great Hall. The space around the ancient building within the huge hall was empty, to her relief. She’d expected that some novices would find their way there, to watch what they could.
The doors to the Guildhall opened and her blood went cold.
The space between the tiered seating on either side of the room was filled with seats, and the seats were filled with brown-robed novices, twisting around so they could see her enter the building.
She fixed her eyes on the floor. Her heart thundered in her ears as she forced her shaky legs to carry her down the aisle. If any of the novices whispered anything – if any called out – she did not hear it. Blood was rushing in her ears, drowning out all noises. She concentrated on breathing, and on putting one trembling leg in front of the other.
They reached the Front of the hall and moved to the right-hand side, where Sonea stopped and placed a hand gently on Lilia’s shoulder.
“Stay here,” she murmured, then she strode forward and climbed the steep stairs to her seat among the Higher Magicians. Watching her, Lilia saw that some of the Higher Magicians were frowning. One said something, but Sonea waved a hand in a reassuring, dismissing gesture.
Then Lilia met the eyes of a Higher Magician who was staring at her, and quickly looked back down at the floor.
“You have heard the accounts of the few witnesses to these events,” a male voice boomed. Lilia glanced up and saw that the blue-robed Administrator was standing in the centre of the Front. She had been staring at the floor so hard that she hadn’t noticed him there. “You have heard what Black Magician Sonea discovered in the minds of the two young women standing before us. Now let us hear what they have to say. Lady Naki.”
A shiver ran down Lilia’s spine and she followed Osen’s eyes to find that Naki was standing just ten or so strides from her, on the left-hand side of the room. Her heart began to lighten at the familiar, beautiful face, but the feeling faded and was replaced by a pain that made Lilia’s breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, Administrator Osen,” Naki replied calmly, and a little coldly. She was standing with her back straight and her head high. Dark circles shadowed her red eyes. She looks strong, but also like she might crumble any moment, Lilia thought. What do I look like, all stooped and unable to look at anyone? I must look as guilty as she thinks I am.
Naki told her story. At every word, Lilia felt a little colder, until she was chilled to the core. But she was the one who wanted to read the book and try black magic! It was all her idea! As Naki described finding her father’s body, she turned and glared at Lilia.
“She killed him. Who else could it have been? She must have learned from the book. Maybe she already knew it.” Naki’s face crumpled and she covered her face with her hands. “Why? Why did you do it?”
Lilia’s heart twisted in sympathy. “I didn’t, Naki. I …” Lilia began, but Osen frowned at her and she choked back the words.
After a pause while Naki recovered her composure, the Higher Magicians questioned her, but it seemed to Lilia that they expected to learn nothing more than they had already been told. Osen turned to face Lilia, and she drew in a deep breath and hoped her voice would remain steady.
“Lady Lilia,” he began. “Tell us what happened the night you stayed at Lady Naki’s home.”
She tried to explain, but every time she described something differently to Naki the girl made a small noise of disgust or protest, and she found herself hurrying. Only when she had moved on from the subject of the book did Lilia realise she should have mentioned that Naki had shown it to her before, but by then it didn’t seem worth going back to add that detail. When Osen asked her about the blood on her hands, she suddenly remembered that she’d sensed Naki taking power, but when she tried to tell Osen he took it as an attempt to divert attention from questions about the blood. Finally, his questions became more direct.
“Did you attempt to learn black magic?”
“Yes,” she replied, feeling her face heat.
“Did you succeed?”
“Yes,” she forced out. “At least, Black Magician Sonea says I did.”
“Did you kill Lord Leiden?”
“No.”
He nodded and looked at the Higher Magicians, and Lilia braced herself for their questions. They had more for her than for Naki. When the torture was over, and Osen’s attention finally moved from her to the rest of the hall, she felt an immense relief.
“There is not enough evidence to accuse anyone of Lord Leiden’s murder,” he said. “Though investigations are far from over. Two crimes have been confessed to, however: the attempt to learn, and the learning of black magic. The Higher Magicians have decided upon appropriate punishment for these crimes, taking into account the age of the accused, and the intent behind their actions.”
He paused. “The punishment for Lady Naki, who admits that she attempted to learn black magic but did not succeed, is a three-year expulsion from the University, with her powers blocked, after which her conduct will be reviewed and, if deemed satisfactory, she may return.”
A faint sigh rose from the watching magicians and novices, followed by a low rumble of discussion, but the sounds quietened as Osen spoke again.
“The punishment for Lady Lilia, who admits that she attempted to learn black magic and succeeded, is expulsion from the Guild. Her powers will be blocked and she will be required to abide within an appropriately secure place. We will review her punishment in ten years.”
No sigh came from the watching magicians and novices. Instead the murmuring began immediately and rose in volume. Osen frowned, hearing the tone of dissatisfaction. Lilia felt her stomach sink.
They don’t think it’s tough enough. They think I should be executed. They—
“Favouritism!” someone behind her said loudly.
“Naki made her do it!” another voice declared.
“No! You lowies have always been a bad influence,” came the retort.
“Please escort Lady Naki and Lady Lilia out of the Guildhall,” Osen said, his magically amplified voice cutting across the arguments. The room quietened a little, then the two magicians who had accompanied Lilia and Sonea earlier stepped forward and gestured to indicate she should go toward a side door nearby.
“We’re on your side, Lilia!” someone called out.
She felt the briefest lightening of her heart, then someone shouted “Murderer!” and it shrivelled again. I’m going to be locked away. For ten years. And more, because no matter how well behaved I am, I’ll still know how to use black magic, and that means I’ll still be a criminal. Oh, how I wish they could block my memories as well as my powers. Why did I let Naki talk me into trying to learn black magic?
Because she loved Naki. Because neither of them had thought it would work. But it had, which explained why reading about black magic was banned. The Guild wouldn’t have wanted to admit that it was possible, because then someone with bad intentions would get hold of a book and try it. I should have realised that.
Then she realised what she and Naki had done. Everyone knows you can learn black magic from books now. We’ve uncovered a secret that should have remained hidden. And like black magic, it’s a secret that can’t be unlearned.
It had been a long day for Lorkin. Not only because Kalia had taken out her anger at him for slipping away from the Care Room, but because he had watched the sick child’s health diminishing, all the while wondering how he was going to Heal her without Kalia seeing and stopping him.
His dilemma had resolved itself in a surprising way, however. Some time in the late evening the girl’s parents had decided that they did not want their child dying in the very public, often noisy Care Room, but at home with her family. Kalia had tried to talk them out
of it, but they had made up their mind.
This had unsettled Kalia, and she had been absent-minded for the rest of the day. No doubt preoccupied with trying to figure out if she could gain anything from the situation without making herself look bad.
Two more patients were suffering badly from the chill fever: an old woman and a teenage boy who already had other health troubles. Kalia did not leave the room to visit the sick girl, perhaps because she hadn’t been asked to, perhaps because she was afraid Lorkin would Heal the other dangerously ill patients while she was gone. She kept Lorkin working until late in the night, then finally dismissed him when a high-ranking magician dropped by with her sick husband, and questioned the wisdom of Kalia working so late and exhausting herself, when magicians had volunteered to watch over the patients at night to avoid that.
As he left, Kalia called out his name. He turned.
“You may go,” she said. “Don’t visit Velyla without me.”
He nodded to show he understood. As he headed toward the sick girl’s room he wondered what his disobedience would cost him.
He did not reach it.
A woman stepped out of a side room and beckoned. He knew her as one of Savara’s supporters, but even so he hesitated before following her into the room. When he saw the four people waiting there his doubts evaporated.
The room was a large, half-empty food store. On a makeshift bed lay Velyla, unconscious. Her parents hovered over her. Beside them stood Savara.
“Lorkin.” Savara smiled. “I thought she’d never let you leave,” she said.
He grimaced. “I think she was hoping …” He caught himself and looked at the parents. Hoping that the girl would die before I had the chance to Heal her. I can’t say that in front of them. He walked over to the makeshift bed, then looked up at the couple. “I will try to Heal her with magic, but I can’t promise that I will be able to save her. Magical Healing does not always succeed, though I’ve never known it to do any harm. I will only try if you give me permission to do so.”
“We do,” the father said, his wife nodding.
“And I will stand as witness,” Savara added softly.
Lorkin looked at her. Tyvara must have told Savara of his plans. Perhaps Savara had convinced the parents to remove their child from the Care Room so that Kalia could not prevent or intervene in her Healing. Perhaps she, too, had guessed that Kalia would forbid him to visit Velyla alone, so had arranged for the girl to be brought here instead.
Savara smiled, and there was a glint of both smugness and approval in her eyes.
Turning back to the child, Lorkin put a hand on her forehead and sent his senses within her body. What he saw sent a chill down his spine. The sickness was everywhere, attacking everything. Her lungs were full of it, and her heart was weak.
He began by simply sending her body energy. Often this was enough – the body automatically used it to heal itself. This sickness that had invaded her systems was too virulent for her defences. If he had looked inside the Traitors who were not badly affected by the chill fever, he knew he would have seen their bodies fighting back. But Velyla’s body was losing that fight.
It could be that her body’s defences were slow and weak, and that all it needed was a boost of energy in order to last long enough to win the battle. Or it could be that it would never win it, no matter how much extra time he gave her. Kalia will say that I prolonged her pain, if I don’t succeed. But I have to try.
Next he forced the liquid out of her lungs – which was not pleasant for anyone but would allow the girl to breathe properly for a time – and Healed as much of the damage as he could. This last step drained much of his strength, but he did not use a great deal of his power working in the Care Room anyway, and a night’s sleep should restore him.
“Keep using Kalia’s cures,” he told Velyla’s parents. “They will help to keep her lungs clear and soothe her throat.” He looked down to see the girl’s eyelids flutter, and quickly added, “I’ve done all that can be done with magic, which is to give her body another chance to beat chill fever. I can do it again if she worsens, but if her body won’t fight it …” He left the sentence hanging and shook his head.
The parents nodded, their expressions grim. “Thank you,” the father said. Interesting that he has been the one to speak, when the woman is considered the head of the family, Lorkin mused.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Savara standing beside him. “You’d best get some rest. I suspect that takes more magic than it appears to.”
He shrugged, though she was right. She looked to the woman who had brought him into the room, who now opened the door a little to check the corridor outside, then turned back and nodded.
“You go first,” Savara murmured. “We’ll leave separately, to arouse less suspicion if we’re seen.”
Slipping out into the corridor, he started toward the men’s room. It seemed as if Savara meant to keep his healing of the girl secret. If Velyla recovered, would it seem suspicious? The girl was still ill, however, and would not be surprising anybody by romping around in perfect health tomorrow. She would take some days yet to regain some energy – assuming she did at all. Most people would not question it, but would Kalia, who knew how ill she had been?
I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
As Achati’s slaves took away the last of the meal, Dannyl went to take another sip of wine, then thought better of it. It was a particularly strong vintage, and the food had been extra spicy. His head was spinning in an almost unpleasant way.
It was never wise, as a magician, to get too drunk. All magicians maintained a constant level of control over their power, and that could slip a little under the effects of alcohol. Generally it was more embarrassing than dangerous, though there had been more than a few magicians over the years who had burned down their house by accident after indulging a little too much.
Some drugs – better known as poisons – could remove all control, which could be spectacularly fatal. He had read of a few incidents in early Kyralian history, mostly from before the discovery of Healing. Fortunately the drugs had side-effects that alerted victims to the danger, giving them time to remove the poison from their body if they knew how to.
Dannyl looked at Achati, who was watching him thoughtfully. At once he felt a tingle of anxiety, but also a small quickening of his pulse. He remembered the day Achati had revealed his interest in them being more than fellow magicians and diplomats. More than friends.
Dannyl had been flattered, but also cautious. Seeing him hesitate, Achati had suggested Dannyl consider the idea for a while.
How long is a while?
Dannyl had to admit, he had been considering it. He liked Achati a lot. He was attracted to Achati in an entirely different way than he had been to Tayend. Achati was intelligent and interesting to talk to. Not that Tayend wasn’t, but he was also inclined to be flippant, foolish and occasionally thoughtless. Achati was never any of these things.
But something was making Dannyl hesitate, and he had a fairly good idea what it was: Achati was a powerful man, both magically and politically. Dannyl found this attractive, until he remembered that Achati was a Sachakan and a black magician, and then he could not help remembering the Ichani Invasion, and how Kyralia had come so close to being conquered by mere outcasts of this powerful society.
He is no Ichani, Dannyl reminded himself. Sachaka is not full of ambitious, murderous black magicians intent on conquest. Achati is the opposite of the Ichani – civilised and intent on peace between our countries.
Even so, it’s never wise to mix politics and pleasure … unless your pleasure is politics.
If the entanglements and tragic romances of the courtiers of the Allied Lands were anything to go by, things could get really messy, and ultimately bad for at least one of the party. But this was not like those inter-racial romances involving secret weddings or scandalous affairs. It was nothing that would bring his loyalty to Kyralia into question. He could not im
agine Achati having unreasonable expectations and making unrealistic promises …
“What are you thinking about?” Achati asked.
Dannyl looked at his companion and shrugged. “Nothing.”
The Sachakan smiled. “It is a strange habit of Kyralians, claiming to have a void of thoughts when they don’t want to discuss them.”
“Or if their thoughts are too mixed and disjointed – most likely from the wine – to explain – which is probably also because of the wine,” Dannyl added.
Achati chuckled. “Yes, I can see how that might be.” He looked at Dannyl and frowned. “There is something I have to tell you, and I’m not sure if you will be displeased or not.”
Dannyl felt a small pang of disappointment. He had almost convinced himself to accept Achati’s proposal, but now that Achati was being more serious, Dannyl’s doubts were creeping back in.
How would such a connection, if it were discovered, affect our standing in Sachakan society? Then it occurred to him that they were about to leave Arvice. Out of sight and out of minds. This trip could be the perfect opportunity …
“I’ve agreed to take another person on our research trip,” Achati said. “He was quite persuasive, and I can’t fault his reasoning. I’d already promised that if things got a bit too intense here I’d help him escape the Ashakis’ interest.”
Dannyl felt his heart sink. Then his disappointment at Achati’s words was followed by a rising suspicion.
“Who?”
Achati smiled. “I’ve agreed to take Ambassador Tayend with us.”
Dannyl looked away to hide his dismay. “Ah,” was all he trusted himself to say.
“You are displeased.” Achati sounded worried. “I thought you two were getting along.”