“And the ash?”
“Volcano sneezes.”
Dannyl smiled in amusement. “Sneezes?”
Yem laughed – a quick bark that reminded Dannyl of Unh. “No. I lie. We have many names for ash. There are many kinds of ash. Hot ash and cold ash. New ash and old ash. Ash that falls dry and ash that falls wet. Ash that fills the sky. We have a Duna name for each kind. More than fifty winters ago one of the volcanoes exploded, and the sky was full of ash for many months.”
“That must have been the eruption that caused the long winters in Kyralia.”
“Its reach was that great?” Yem nodded to himself. “It is a powerful volcano.”
Dannyl did not answer, for they had reached the shelter. He sighed with relief as he stepped into its shadow. The same old men that he’d spoken to the previous night sat in a ring on a blanket, but there were two male additions and one old female. Yem indicated that Dannyl should sit in a gap between two of the men. He himself moved around the circle to fill a gap on the opposite side.
Yem looked around at each of the men, then turned to the woman.
“Speak, Keeper. Give Ambassador Magician Dannyl your answers.”
The woman had been staring at Dannyl, her gaze keen and assessing. Though her expression was unreadable, there was something anxious and disapproving in her demeanour.
“You wish to know what stones can do?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“They do whatever a magician can do,” she told him. “They turn magic into heat. They can be like a dam or shield. They make light. They can hold something still.” Her eyes focused on a distant point, and her voice took on the tone of a teacher reciting a familiar lesson. “Two kinds of stone may be made. One can be taught a task, but the magic must come from the holder. One can be taught a task, and holds magic for the task. Both can be made to use once, or many times, but the store must be filled again when it is emptied.” She blinked and looked at him. “Do you understand?”
“I think so,” he replied. “So if a stone can hold a store of magic, is it a storestone?”
Her chin rose. “Not such a stone as you spoke of last night. A careful stone-maker makes a stone hold only enough. Most stones hold only so much, then they break. So to stop the breaking, they are made to hold only enough.” She cupped her hands together. “The stone you spoke of had no stop to it.” She threw her arms wide, fingers splayed. “Stones that don’t break are rare. We do not know how to tell if they won’t. And even if they don’t, they are still dangerous. The more magic inside, the more dangerous – like if a magician takes and holds too much power it is dangerous. Easy to lose control.”
Dannyl straightened in surprise and interest. “Are you saying that a black magician – a magician who knows higher magic – can take so much power that his control over it starts to slip?”
She paused, obviously taking time to translate the less familiar words he’d used, then nodded.
“Long, long ago many peoples lived where the Duna and Sachakans are. They had cities in the mountains where the stones were made, and were always at war with each other. Whoever had the most stones was strongest. One queen lost her stone caves and sought to be a stone herself. She took more and more magic from her people. But she lost control of that power and burned, and that was when the first volcano was born. It turned her people the colour of ash.” She pinched the skin of her arm between finger and thumb and smiled. “Storestones are like magicians. Better to keep a little power, then use, then restock.”
I wonder how much power it takes for a black magician to lose control, Dannyl thought. Clearly more than what Sonea and Akkarin took to defend Imardin. Hmm, I had better let Sonea know about this. We don’t want Imardin turning into a volcano.
“Do not fear,” the woman said, mistaking his worried look. “Nobody makes storestones any more. They stopped trying because it was too dangerous, and then they forgot how to.”
He nodded. “That is good to know.” Then something occurred to him and he frowned. “If a stone can be taught anything a magician can do, can it be taught black magic – what Sachakans call higher magic? Can a stone take magic from a person?”
She smiled. “It can and it can’t. A stone can be made to take magic, but it would not work unless the skin of the person touching it was cut or they were tricked or forced into swallowing it. It will only take as much magic as it is made to take, or it would break. It would have to be able to hold much magic to kill a magician.”
Dannyl shuddered at the thought of having a black-magic-wielding stone in his stomach, sucking out his life. But perhaps it wouldn’t be able to take enough power from him to kill him, and it would soon pass through his system. Still, it would weaken a person, and might do a lot of damage to their insides if it broke.
“What happens when a stone breaks?” he asked.
“It may break into many pieces,” she said, flaring the fingers of both hands. “Or it may crack. If magic is stored, it can go out in many ways. Maybe how the stone meant to send it, maybe unshaped, maybe shaped in another way.”
Dannyl nodded. So either you’d get a warm glow inside or be cut to ribbons and burned up. Nice. Seems to me that these stones could give us as many more ways to do harm as good.
“How much do the Traitors know of making stones?”
Her eyebrows lowered. “All that we know, and more. They once traded with us, but broke our trust by taking the secrets from us.”
He nodded in sympathy. So it was true. He considered what to ask next. He wanted to know how easy or time-consuming the stones were to make, but he figured that would be asking for too much detail. If the stones were difficult to make, that knowledge could be used against the Duna. No, if he was to ask any new questions, he ought to take the opportunity to seek information that might add to his book.
“How do the Duna believe the wasteland was created?”
“Only what you have told us,” she said, shrugging. “Before then we knew only that the Guild made it.”
What else could these people tell him about the history of magic? He’d like to know more about their own origins. Perhaps they could tell him about other ancient peoples who lived in the mountains. Perhaps those who once occupied the ruins of Armje in Elyne.
“I would like to know more about the people you spoke of, who lived in the mountains long ago.”
“What we know are only tales,” she warned him.
“Even so, they are all we have of those times, and tales that last as long as these are usually good ones.”
She smiled. “Very well.” She looked at Yem. “But there are many, many stories. Maybe I tell you another time.”
“After this meeting is done,” Yem agreed. He looked at Dannyl appraisingly. “There is more we wish to tell you,” he said. “Other things than answers to your questions.”
Dannyl looked around at the old men, all of whom were now watching him intently. “Yes?”
“You know that the Traitors stole our secrets. They have grown their knowledge more than we ever have. We are able to make stones that will block a magician from reading a mind. They have stones that can make that magician see thoughts he expects.”
Dannyl’s heart skipped. So that’s how their spies avoid discovery and keep their home hidden! Then a cold sensation flowed over him. If Achati heard this … He would tell his king and then perhaps other Ashaki. All would search their slaves for stones and remove them. They’d kill thousands of slaves – after reading their minds. The Traitor stronghold would be found and destroyed – and Lorkin with it.
Which meant he could not tell Achati. Even if Lorkin was safe, Dannyl could not be responsible for the deaths of so many people. A decision that important is not mine to make, anyway. He felt a guilty wave of relief. It is one for the Guild, and they would most likely defer to the wishes of the Kyralian king, if not all the rulers of the Allied Lands.
If the tribesmen and woman had noticed Dannyl’s surprise and shock, th
ey did not comment on it.
“A half moon cycle ago the Traitors came to our stone caves and broke all the stones,” Yem continued. Dannyl looked up and met the old man’s eyes as he realised what this must mean for the Duna. “We fear they are planning to make war. Maybe to invade Duna. Maybe to fight the Ashaki.”
“Why would they break your stones if they want to start a civil war with the Ashaki?”
“To be sure no magic stones can be used against them.”
“If they invaded Duna the Ashaki would do something about it.”
Yem nodded. “A fight with Duna is a fight with the Ashaki, whether we wish it so or not.”
Dannyl considered the news. Surely the Traitors won’t bother invading Duna before attacking the Ashaki. But perhaps there was a strategic reason for doing so. He’d have to think about that. The Duna people’s motives were clear, however.
“Did you tell me about the mind-read-blocking stones so that I’d warn the Sachakan king?” he asked.
“No,” Yem said firmly. “We seek friendship with Kyralia and the Allied Lands.”
Dannyl looked around the circle in surprise. All stared back at him expectantly.
Yem nodded. “We have long debated this. The Ashaki have learned that invading Duna is costly. The Traitors do not know this. But the Ashaki are more cruel than the Traitors. We know who we prefer as neighbours, but they do not want us.” He smiled grimly. “If Kyralia and Elyne agree, maybe we can help each other.”
Dannyl stared at the old man, who returned his gaze steadily. He thought about all that was being offered and predicted. An alliance. With a people who have stone-making knowledge. He smiled.
“I would be honoured to negotiate such an alliance,” he said. “And it would give me great pleasure if I could forge such a friendship between our peoples.”
The old man’s answering smile was wide and toothy.
And as they began discussing how the two peoples might help each other, Dannyl found that a journey that had been purely for research purposes was suddenly about everything his role as Ambassador entailed.
None of the magicians in the Administrator’s office made a sound when Lilia stopped talking. She looked around quickly. Some of them were staring at her, others looked distant and thoughtful. All were frowning.
Now that she had finished explaining everything that had happened since she had first spoken to Lorandra at the Lookout, she felt utterly drained. Her weariness wasn’t from magical exhaustion, since her powers had mostly recovered from the fight with Naki. It wasn’t physical either, since she had used Healing to combat tiredness from lack of sleep. She felt worn out from all the hope, fear, hurt, guilt, anger, relief and gratitude that had gripped her over the last day.
Her mood now was something between resignation and acceptance. She wasn’t sure whether she simply didn’t care what the Guild did to punish her for escaping from the Lookout and becoming a rogue, or whether she couldn’t bring herself to consider it. She was tired of the secrets, and glad to be rid of them.
Though it occurred to her she could try to hide the fact she’d been able to break the mind block, she suspected Sonea had arrived early enough to see her fighting Naki. What that meant for her future, she couldn’t guess. They could lock her and Naki up, but it wouldn’t be easy to keep them there.
Her mind kept returning to Naki’s betrayal.
“I taught myself before we even met.”
Why had Naki befriended her? Were the rumours about her liking for other women even true, or were her kisses part of the deception? Why did she encourage – perhaps even trick – Lilia into learning black magic? Or had she killed her own father by accident and arranged for Lilia to take the blame?
That didn’t make sense. For a start, Lord Leiden had been alive when Lilia had last seen him, and she’d been with Naki every moment subsequently until after their attempt to learn black magic.
Then she must have planned to kill him and blame me.
Surely Naki must have known that if Lilia didn’t have memor ies of killing Lord Leiden, then there could be no proof she was guilty. Perhaps she hoped that the other evidence – blood on Lilia’s hands – might be enough to convict her.
And how did the blood get onto my hands in the first place?
“How can there be so many differences between Lilia’s story and what Black Magician Sonea read in Naki’s mind after Lord Leiden’s death?” Lady Vinara asked, voicing what had bothered Lilia all along.
“I can see only three possibilities, and none are likely,” Administrator Osen replied. “Either Black Magician Sonea’s mind-reading failed, or Naki is able to confound a mind-read, or Lilia is able to.”
“Then I suggest that both young women’s minds are read by Black Magician Kallen,” High Lord Balkan said.
Osen looked around the room. All of the magicians nodded, including Sonea. Lilia suppressed a sigh and braced herself for another mind searching through her own again.
Whatever it takes, she thought. I’ll accept whatever punishment I deserve so long as I’m not blamed for anything I haven’t done. That was all she wanted, now that she was no longer in love with Naki. I thought I was only telling myself I wasn’t, but I think it’s true. It’s hard to love someone who’s tried to kill you. Love isn’t as unconditional as the songmakers say it is.
“Have Naki brought here,” Osen ordered, looking at the magicians closest to the door. He nodded to Kallen. “You have permission to read Lilia’s mind.”
Black Magician Kallen moved from the wall he was standing against and stepped around the chairs to where Lilia stood, in front of Osen’s desk. He gave her a thoughtful look, then reached out and set his palms on the sides of her head. She closed her eyes.
This time the experience was subtly different to the last. His searching was slower, though that might have been because he was being more careful, knowing that Sonea’s mind-read had not picked up Naki’s guilt. Kallen looked at all of her memories, but she sensed nothing from him and he did not once speak to her. The only indication of a reaction was the way he skimmed past her early feelings for Naki rather quickly, once he encountered them.
She only knew it was over when she felt the pressure of his hands cease. Opening her eyes, she looked up at Kallen. He was staring down at her, frowning.
“I see nothing that she hadn’t told us,” he said. “No deceit. Everything she has said, she believes to be true.”
Kallen stepped aside. She saw that the Higher Magicians had turned to look toward the back of the room, and as she spotted what they were looking at, her heart wrenched. At the same time, she felt strangely panicky, and the disturbingly vivid memory of the sensation of a cold blade against her throat came into her mind.
“Bring her forward,” Osen said.
Naki’s face was pale and sullen. As she was pushed firmly into place by one of the two magicians who had been standing either side of her, she scowled. Her gaze flickered to Lilia. It became mocking and her lips curled into a sneer, but guilt didn’t rise in response. She’s not beautiful any more, Lilia realised. Something has changed her. Something has changed in her. Shocked and sickened, she moved away as far as she could without escaping the ring of magicians.
Kallen took hold of Naki’s head and stared at her for some time. All watched and waited silently. Naki’s eyes remained open, gazing somewhere beyond Kallen’s chest. Her expression remained mostly blank as he began the mind-read, though there was a little crease of concentration between her brows.
After an unbearably long time, Kallen finally released her. He took a step back and frowned down at Naki, clearly not happy, before turning away.
“She learned black magic before Lord Leiden’s death, by experimenting, but she didn’t realise she had succeeded. Otherwise she would not have encouraged Lilia to try it. A Thief heard about her and blackmailed her into working for him. He also ordered her to kill Lilia.”
“How did she remove the block on her magic?” Sonea asked. r />
“She thinks,” Kallen turned to regard her, “that it was never properly done in the first place.”
Sonea’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing to that.
“I think these two young women had best be returned to their temporary cells,” Osen said. “Then we will discuss this in depth.”
Naki was escorted out first, and Lilia was relieved when she had gone. Other magicians were summoned to take Lilia away, so that Sonea, who had brought her to the meeting, could remain.
Before long, Lilia was walking down the University corridor, barely noticing the two magician guards as she puzzled over the fact that neither Sonea nor Kallen had been able to see into Naki’s mind.
And if they can’t do so using black magic, should I really feel so bad that I couldn’t either?
CHAPTER 26
RINGS AND STONES
Lorkin woke with a jolt, to find his leg had slipped between the two sleeping mats and had come into contact with the icy stone below them. He rolled back onto the bedding and found himself staring up at the cave’s roof. Light was filtering through the wall of ice, casting a cool, blue light over everything. Looking closely, he could see where the warmth of Tyvara’s shield set the chilly external air steaming.
Tyvara …
He turned to look at her, half covered by the blanket. The covering wasn’t necessary since the air within the shield was warmed with magic, but he had to agree that it gave an impression of protection that he’d appreciated as the storm winds whistled and wailed outside. His mind couldn’t shake the conviction that it was cold, and that it wasn’t sensible to leave his skin exposed.
His body, however, approved of Tyvara’s lack of clothing. He longed to reach out and touch her, but resisted. The sooner she woke, the sooner they would have to part. So he lay there and gazed at her, hoping the image would remain clear in his memory forever.