Donia chuckled. “You clearly haven’t got to know him well enough yet, if you think that will work. You need to point out how keeping Lilia around will be more useful to him than giving her over to the Guild.”
Lilia regarded Donia with dismay. This person named Cery sounded more ruthless and self-serving than what Anyi had led her to believe.
Anyi’s eyes narrowed. “I can do that.” She looked at Lilia and an expression of concern crossed her face. “Don’t worry. It won’t involve using black magic. Or anything you’re not allowed or willing to do.”
Donia looked at Lilia and nodded. “She’s right. Unlike most men in his position, he has lines he will not cross.”
“They’re just a little more flexible than most people’s.” Anyi grinned and looked up at Donia. “Can Lilia stay here in the meantime?”
“Of course.” Donia looked at Lilia and smiled. “If you’d like to, you’re welcome to stay. You’ll have to sleep under the stairs again, though. We don’t have any other spare beds.”
Lilia looked from Anyi to Donia, then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll stay, and if there’s anything I can do to pay for my stay and food …”
Donia waved a hand dismissively. “A friend of Anyi is a friend of mine, and I’d never consider charging a friend.”
Anyi snorted. “I should tell Cery you said that.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Anyi. “Not unless you intend to pay for the bol.”
Back in the main room of the guest wing, Dannyl was listening to Achati’s description of the escapades that he and the estate’s owner had got themselves into as young men. A movement at the door caught Dannyl’s attention, and he beckoned as he saw a slave hovering there.
The man threw himself to the floor. “Dinner is ready, master, if you wish to eat now.”
“Yes!” Achati said. He looked at Dannyl. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”
Dannyl smiled to himself, thinking of Achati’s silent promise. Though Tayend had kept the Ashaki occupied all day, he had to sleep some time.
Perhaps a liaison with Achati would be short, perhaps it would have awkward consequences in the future, but, for now, it felt right. Besides, Dannyl reasoned, Tayend and I were together for years, and it still ended. And not without some pain and regret.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Tayend emerged from his room. He blinked at them, his gaze moving from Achati to Dannyl. “Aren’t you getting changed?”
Dannyl looked down at the bathhouse coat. Achati hadn’t made any move to return to his usual elaborate clothing, so Dannyl hadn’t either – and he was enjoying being dressed in something other than magician’s robes.
Achati chuckled. “There didn’t seem much point getting dressed. We’ll be retiring to bed in a few hours.”
Tayend’s nose wrinkled. “I reckon I’ll stay up. I’ve been sleeping so much lately.”
Dannyl felt his good mood beginning to sour as a suspicion came over him. He resisted the urge to look at Achati, to see if the other man was thinking the same thing. If Tayend stayed up late …
“Dinnertime!” Achati interrupted, beckoning as another slave appeared in the main room’s doorway. “Are you hungry, too, Tayend?”
A delicious smell wafted into the room. Tayend’s expression changed to one of interest as he eyed the tray in the slave’s hands.
“I am.”
“Then sit and eat,” Achati invited.
Tayend settled on a stool and they all began to eat and talk.
“How are you feeling?” Achati asked Tayend after a while. “No problems with the seasickness cure?”
“No.” The Elyne shrugged. “I was a bit foggy when I first woke up, but it wore off after the bath. When are we leaving again?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Tayend nodded. “Let’s hope there are no more storms.”
“Indeed.”
“I’ll probably read tonight. I haven’t had much chance to since we set off.”
“Do you need anything to read?” Achati asked.
Dannyl listened as they discussed books and the record of the attempt to subdue the Duna tribes that Achati had been given. Achati was giving Tayend his full attention, but then it was likely Tayend would sleep all the next day, and any day they were onboard ship. If he kept up this pattern he wasn’t going to get many chances to talk to Achati or Dannyl.
Which, I have to admit, I’m selfishly pleased at. I have most of Achati’s attention, even if we aren’t alone, since Tayend is mostly asleep when we’re awake, thanks to that seasickness cure.
A cure which Achati had given Tayend. I don’t suppose … Could Achati have intended this? Was it a clever way to keep Tayend out of his way? Our way?
Perhaps it was just a convenient side-effect. After all, Achati had said that not all people were affected so potently by the cure. Dannyl had offered to Heal away Tayend’s seasickness, but the Elyne had declined. Tayend was too proud to come to him for magical relief. Not when there was an alternative. Had Achati guessed this about him?
What would Tayend say if he knew what Achati and I discussed at the bathhouse? Dannyl felt a small pang of guilt, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the possibility that having a new lover might upset Tayend, or from ignoring Tayend’s warning about Achati.
Eventually Tayend is going to work it out, or else I’ll have to tell him. For now, Achati is right: it would be better Tayend was told once we are not spending hours cooped up in a ship together. I’m sure Tayend will have some disapproving things to say about it. I’ll just have to explain that I understand, and that it’s an “as long as it lasts” arrangement.
Dannyl felt a twinge at the last thought. What if it stopped being an “as long as it lasts” arrangement?
I’ll worry about that if it happens, because otherwise I’m not going to be much fun to be around. Again.
The hospice storeroom felt crowded with all the people in it, despite being a large room. All were standing around a table near the door. Sonea and Dorrien stood on one side, Cery and Anyi on the other. Nobody had bothered sitting down in the sole chair. The other chair was missing. Sonea made a mental note to tell one of the Healers.
“I only wish I’d known Lorandra had not regained her powers,” Anyi lamented. “Then I wouldn’t have left, and you might’ve caught both of them. But I didn’t know if you’d be able to take on the two of them. I had to warn you.”
Sonea smiled. “You couldn’t have known,” she said. “It must have been a shock to find yourself in the same room with her. Are you sure she didn’t recognise you from the Hearing?”
Anyi frowned. “I don’t think so. She didn’t behave as if she did, but she might have been pretending, so that I would stay. Then, once we met Skellin, she’d get him to take care of me.”
“If so, she couldn’t have had much confidence that Jemmi and Rek would believe her if she told them you were a spy.”
“Maybe they convinced her that I’d turned on Cery.”
“If I was in her place, I’d have insisted Jemmi find different bodyguards,” Cery said.
“Since she didn’t, it seems more likely she didn’t recognise Anyi,” mused Dorrien. “She would surely have been uneasy, otherwise, being around someone she knew had worked for the Guild in the past, even indirectly, especially when she was meeting her son.”
“Whatever the reason, our chance to catch Skellin was lost,” Cery said, sighing. He looked at Sonea. “Can Skellin remove the block on Lorandra’s mind?”
“Probably.” Sonea looked at Anyi. “Did anybody mention Lilia?”
The girl shook her head.
“Well, let’s hope that means Lorandra dumped her once she wasn’t useful any more. Or that Lilia had the sense to get away from her.”
“And that Lorandra didn’t kill her once she wasn’t useful any more,” Dorrien added grimly.
Sonea grimaced. “At least it means Lilia didn’t tell Lorandra that she had learned black magic. Or if she had, then Lor
andra hadn’t realised this meant Lilia could instruct her. She would not have let Lilia go, if she’d known.”
“Lorandra wouldn’t have known what Lilia was imprisoned for unless Lilia or one of the guards told her,” Dorrien added thoughtfully. “But now that rumours about the pair escaping are spreading, Lorandra will soon learn what Lilia knows. We have to hope that she doesn’t know where Lilia is, and go back to fetch her. We have to find Lilia as soon as possible.”
“No. We don’t.” Sonea sighed as all turned to look at her. “Black Magician Kallen does. I’m supposed to be finding Skellin.”
“I suppose this means you need to meet with Kallen and tell him what happened last night,” Cery guessed, giving her a sympathetic glance.
“Yes. Without delay.”
He nodded and made a shooing motion. “Go then. We have nothing else to tell you.” Anyi shook her head in agreement.
“Go yourself,” Sonea replied, copying his shooing motion. “You’re in my hospice, remember?”
He grinned. “Oh, that’s right.”
Turning away, he led Anyi back to the hidden hatch by which he’d entered the room. Sonea waited until the pair were gone and the hatch was closed, then she turned to Dorrien. “Have you been introduced to Kallen before?”
He stepped forward and opened the door for her. “No. Anything I should know before I meet him?”
She stepped out into the corridor, saw a Healer approaching and changed her mind about what she intended to say.
“Only that he doesn’t have much of a sense of humour.”
“I have heard that noted before,” Dorrien said as he followed her down the corridor. “Though now that I think about it, it was said by you.”
“He takes his job very seriously.”
“That surely is a good thing.”
Sonea looked at him. He grinned. She shook her head. “There are limits.”
“To taking a job seriously?”
“To teasing me and getting away with it,” she replied tersely. They made their way through to the carriageway next to the hospice. The carriage she had arrived in was waiting, as she usually insisted that Dorrien finish his shift and go home once she’d arrived. She told the driver to head back to the Guild, then climbed in after Dorrien.
“Something about this doesn’t seem right,” Dorrien said, after the carriage had entered the street.
Sonea looked at him. “Something about what?”
“Last night.” He frowned. His gaze was fixed outside the window, but in a way that suggested he was lost in thought. “Anyi’s story. Maybe it was the way she told it. She kept rephrasing things, or stopping in the middle of sentences, as if she had to stop herself from saying something.”
Sonea thought back to the meeting. She hadn’t detected anything odd in Anyi’s behaviour. The girl’s description of the events had been halting, but Sonea had assumed it was from a difficulty in putting her suspicions, and the spontaneous decisions she’d made, into words.
“Maybe she was nervous,” Sonea said. “She knows I used to live in the slums, but you are from one of the Houses.” That didn’t seem likely, but perhaps Anyi’s usual forthright manner depended on who she was with.
Dorrien’s frown didn’t ease. He shook his head. “Perhaps. But I think there’s more to this than what she told us. Do you think it’s possible she’s being blackmailed?”
Sonea felt her stomach clench. Oddly, the suggestion brought Lorkin to mind. Though he said he was going to join the Traitors willingly, it still means his life is in someone else’s hands. I wish I had some word from him.
“Anything is possible,” she replied. “But I’d have expected that if Skellin wanted to blackmail anyone it would be Cery. And if he was blackmailing him, he’d have locked Anyi away somewhere and threatened to kill her if Cery didn’t do what he wanted.”
Dorrien looked unconvinced, but didn’t say anything more. The streets of Imardin were quiet. Those people who had the choice were inside, keeping warm. As the carriage swung through the Guild gates a light snow began to fall.
They made their way through the University, across the courtyard and to the Magicians’ Quarters. Sonea led the way to Black Magician Kallen’s door and knocked. As the door swung inward, a fragrant, smoky smell reached her nose.
A chill ran down her spine. She had never encountered roet smoke before, but she had smelled its residue on clothing many, many times. Remembering Anyi’s story of seeing Black Magician Kallen buying roet, she felt shock change to disgust as she saw that Kallen and two of his magician friends and assistants were sitting in his guest room, sucking on elaborately decorated smoking pipes. Kallen removed his from between his teeth and smiled politely.
“Black Magician Sonea,” he said, standing up. “And Lord Dorrien. Come in.”
Sonea hesitated, then forced herself to walk into the room. Knowing what she did about roet, she did not want to breathe any of the smoke, even if it was probably too thin to affect her mind.
“What can we do for you?” Kallen asked.
“We came to tell you of a failed ambush we attempted last night,” Dorrien said. Sonea glanced at him, and he returned her look with a shake of his head.
Turning her mind back to their reason for visiting, she described the planned meeting and why it had failed. Kallen asked all the questions she expected, and she was relieved when it was clear they were done and she could leave. Kallen thanked her for filling him in, and assured her he was doing all he could to find Lilia and Naki.
Back in the corridor, Sonea let her grip on her anger loosen.
“I can’t believe he was sitting there smoking roet in his own quarters!” she said, intending it to be a whisper but it coming out instead as a hiss.
“There’s no law against it,” Dorrien pointed out. “In fact, those pipes almost make it look respectable.”
“But … doesn’t anybody grasp how dangerous it is?”
He spread his hands. “No. Even those who see that it has a bad effect on common people assume it’s no worse than drink if taken in moderation, by sensible people – like magicians.” Dorrien looked at her. “If it really is dangerous, then Lady Vinara ought to state it clearly.”
Sonea sighed. “That isn’t going to happen unless magicians agree to be tested. The ones who use roet refuse, and it isn’t fair to ask those who don’t use it to risk being permanently affected.”
“That might change. All you need is for a magician to try to stop taking it, and find that they can’t.” He looked thoughtful. “I’ll ask around. It could be that there are a few already at that point, too embarrassed to say anything.”
She managed a wan smile. “Thank you.”
“As if you need another urgent matter to tackle,” he added. Then a wary, hesitant look crept over his face.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s just … Well … Did you know that the perfume you wear is made from roet flowers?”
Sonea stopped and stared at him. “No …”
He looked away guiltily. “I should have told you earlier. I was in a perfumery a week or two back, and I recognised the scent. So I asked what it was.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of all the perfumes I happened to buy. On a whim. Just because I needed to look occupied. I guess I should throw it away.”
“That would be a shame.”
She blinked, and looked at him questioningly. To her amusement, he avoided her gaze.
“You like it?”
He looked at her, then away. “Yes. You never used to wear perfume. It’s … nice.”
Smiling, she started walking again. They left the Magicians’ Quarters and made toward the University.
“So why were you at a perfumery? Buying a present for Alina?”
He shook his head, then seemed to catch himself.
“Seeing what I might get for Tylia. For her Acceptance Ceremony.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Not the usual fancy pen, then?”
/> “No.”
He was silent for the rest of the way to the carriage, probably contemplating having a daughter grown up enough to become a novice. She remembered how she had felt when Lorkin had made his vow and received his first set of robes. The pride she’d felt had been tinged by the memory of how she had broken that vow, and of the day the entire Guild had filed past, tearing her and Akkarin’s robes in a symbolic gesture of rejection, before sending them both into exile.
As then, she pushed that memory aside. Lorkin might have gone to live in a hidden city of rebels, but there had been no serious discussion about exiling him because of that decision. Which was reassuring. If the Guild still believed he would find his way home, then it was much easier to believe the same thing herself.
CHAPTER 22
IN GOOD COMPANY
Something brushed against Lorkin’s senses. He ignored it, but the sensation came again and something about it made his skin prickle. The interruption was annoying but, as he had been taught, he accepted it and carefully disengaged his mind from the growing gemstone.
As awareness of his surroundings returned, he opened his eyes and looked around the cave for the source of the distraction. It wasn’t the stone-makers sitting nearby. They were glancing around in the same way as he was. He was fairly certain that it wasn’t the two magicians standing by the door, though their postures hinted that they had been talking. He’d learned to block out nearby conversations days ago.
He listened, and realised he could hear a faint, low noise. At the same time he noticed that he could feel, under his hands, feet, and through the chair, a vibration.
At once his heart began to race, and he quickly drew magic and surrounded himself with a strong barrier.
A tremor, he thought. I wonder how bad it is.
Not bad enough to send the other magicians fleeing the city, he noted. Were the non-magicians evacuating right now? The last time he’d seen the valley outside, it had been covered in a deep blanket of snow. The thought of what might happen should the entire city collapse and strand thousands of people out in the savage cold made him shudder.