I will come back, he told himself. If Father had had such a reason as this, I’m sure he would have returned, too.
Since his conversation with the Traitor queen, he’d wondered if there had been anything between her and his father, but he’d decided it was unlikely. They had met so briefly and there must have been quite a difference in age between them. Perhaps there had been some kind of bond formed through the blood ring, but, if there had been, it sounded as though the death of the queen’s daughter had ended it.
He considered the blood ring. It was useless now that the maker was dead. Yet the queen hadn’t thrown it away. Perhaps it had symbolised the agreement she’d made with Akkarin. What had been her side of that agreement? What had she failed to do, but now hoped to achieve by sending Lorkin home?
Perhaps an alliance between our lands. That would have required her to convince her people that it was a good idea. Not an easy task to take on, but she was younger then and maybe she hadn’t realised how hard it would be.
Tyvara’s eyes fluttered open, and he felt his heart sink, but as she turned and smiled at him it lifted again. She rolled over and they kissed for a while. When he hoped this might lead to more, she pulled away and stood up, the blanket falling away. She turned to regard the wall of ice and sighed.
“We slept longer than we should have,” she said, starting to get dressed. “I ought to have headed home as soon as the storm passed. You never know how long it’ll be to the next one, this time of year.”
Lorkin felt a pang of worry for her, not quite eased by reminding himself that she was a powerful magician, and well capable of surviving storms. He got up and began pulling on his clothes. “Do you often travel at this time?”
She shook her head. “No, not if I can avoid it.”
He looked at her sternly. “Well, I’m glad to have a little longer with you, but if it means you might not get home safely then I’m afraid I have to insist you leave right now.”
She laughed, then her smile faded rapidly. Moving close, she kissed him firmly. “You take care as well. You’re not quite out of the mountains yet.”
“I will,” he told her. “Kyralia has snow and hilly parts too, you know.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Which you’ve never been to, except on the way to Sachaka, at a time of year when there was no snow.”
“Darn. I shouldn’t have told you that.”
She shook her head and pulled away, moving to the sledges. “Do you need me to run through the directions on how to get back to Arvice?” she asked, packing away the sleeping mats and utensils from the previous night’s meal.
“Take the sledge down the valley to the hunter’s shack. Leave it there and walk to the road. Slaves will be waiting to take me to the local estate and arrange transport from there.”
“That’s right. If you don’t encounter them for some reason, it’s the estate with four big trees either side of the entrance road. You shouldn’t encounter any Ashaki. They don’t tend to travel at this time of year. If you do, tell them who you are and request to be taken back to the Guild House. They’ll be politically obliged to help you.”
While she sounded confident, there was a worried look in her eyes. What’s the worst that could happen? he asked himself. The Ashaki might toss political obligation aside, reason that I’m a Traitor now and not protected by any diplomatic rules, and try to kill me. But they probably wouldn’t without first trying to read my mind. He rubbed the base of his thumb, where the mind-read-blocking stone lay beneath the muscle. It still itched a little, though he’d healed the cut. Tyvara had recommended the pos ition for it, since a newly inserted stone did tend to itch, and a slave rubbing at sore hands wasn’t unusual.
He’d not had much time to learn how to feed fake thoughts to a mind-reader. Even with Tyvara’s magic, I doubt I could fend off an Ashaki attack for long. If the Ashaki then senses that his mind-reading is failing, he might try to torture information out of me. I don’t know if I could withstand that at all, or for long. Better to get to the Guild House and into Ambassador Dannyl’s protection unseen.
“I’ll do what I can to stay out of sight,” he assured her. “And this time I won’t have half the Traitor spies trying to find us and turn us over.”
She nodded. “Be careful who you trust, even so. Kalia’s faction may be weakened, but there are still Traitors who hate you for what your father did. They won’t do anything to endanger Sanctuary, but they may make your life uncomfortable.”
He shrugged. “I’ve slept in a hole in the ground. I can cope with a little discomfort.” Then he frowned. “I’ve been thinking … is it wise that Kalia is the only one who knows how to Heal with magic?”
Tyvara’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sure the queen would rather Kalia wasn’t the only one, but we don’t have any choice about that.”
“Well … you could have another choice … if I teach you Healing before you go.”
Her eyes widened a little, then she smiled and shook her head. “No, Lorkin. We don’t have time for that.”
“We could stay another night.”
Her smile widened. “As much as that appeals, I still must go now. There are other reasons I need to get back quickly. The fact that Kalia has that one little advantage over us is the only thing keeping her faction happy.”
“Nobody has to know.”
She chuckled. “Zarala said you might offer this.”
“Really?” He felt strangely affronted. Was he that predictable?
“Yes. She told me to refuse.” Picking up the tow ropes of the sledges, Tyvara handed one to him. “Let’s go.”
They moved to the entrance of the cave and stepped out into a landscape coated with fresh, undisturbed snow. Bright morning light made everything dazzlingly white. The walls of the valley were steep and close, but widened as they reached eastwards. He could make out the line of the path they’d taken to descend into the valley, and another narrow one continuing down to the valley floor and a frozen river.
They turned to each other. They stared at each other. Neither spoke.
Then a distant rumble drew both to look at the sky. They were too deep in the valley to see the coming weather. Tyvara cursed under her breath.
“I’ll go first, so that I don’t toss snow down onto you,” she said. “Try to get to the hunter’s shack before the next storm.”
He nodded. She strode away, pushing snow off the path with magic. He watched her go, feeling that every step she took stretched some invisible bond between them. She did not look back, and he could not decide if he was disappointed or relieved.
When she finally reached the top of the wall, she did stop. Looking down, she lifted an arm and waved. It was less a gesture of farewell as one of impatience. His imagination conjured her voice and expression. “What are you waiting for? Get going!” He chuckled and set off into the valley, like her shoving snow off the path with magic as he went. When he reached the bottom he looked up.
She was gone. He felt strangely empty.
Then his eyes were drawn to the wall of ice that had covered one side of the cave they’d spent the last day and night in, and he gasped. It was a curtain of water, frozen in place.
A waterfall, he thought. It’s beautiful.
He wished Tyvara had been with him to see it. But then, she had probably travelled this path before, and seen it already. Still, it would have been nice to share such a sight with her.
He sighed. There was no point wishing things were otherwise, and he must put all romantic notions aside and concentrate on getting back to Kyralia. There would be rough and dangerous times ahead, and important meetings and negotiations to arrange if all went well.
He turned away and hauled his sledge toward home.
The journey down the path into the canyon seemed far more precarious than the journey up. It was much harder to ignore the dizzying drop to one side, and instead of facing into the wall when making one of the sharp turns, travellers were forced to face outward ov
er the valley.
Achati was even more silent and tight-lipped than before. Tayend was uncharacteristically quiet. Nobody wanted to turn in their saddle to look at others in case the movement unbalanced the horses and they swayed closer to the edge.
This left Dannyl with many hours to think about what he had learned from the Duna.
It had been late when he’d rejoined Achati and Tayend the previous night, having spent many hours listening to and writing down the Keeper’s legends and stories. He’d told them what he’d learned of storestones, and shared his relief that they were so difficult and dangerous to make and that stones capable of holding so much power were very rare.
He hadn’t mentioned that the Traitors had stones that could block a mind-read and present a mind-reader with the thoughts he might expect. Concealing such information from Achati gave him twinges of guilt, but he knew he’d feel much worse if he passed it on and brought about the slaughter of thousands of slaves and rebels. Though Dannyl resented the Traitors for taking Lorkin away, they hadn’t killed the young man and certainly didn’t deserve to be hunted down and murdered for it.
There were plenty of strategic reasons for protecting the knowledge of how to make magical stones, too. If the Ashaki took such secrets from the Traitors, Kyralia’s former enemy would be even stronger, and less inclined to change its ways in order to join the Allied Lands. The Duna had trusted him with the information in the hope that they could form friendly links with the latter. Perhaps they would exchange stone-making knowledge in return for something.
What could we offer in return? he wondered. Protection? With the Ashaki between Duna and Kyralia, and most Guild magicians not using black magic, how could the Allied Lands ever help the Duna?
They couldn’t. Kyralia didn’t have any caves full of stones, as far as he knew, so stone-making knowledge would be equally useless to the Guild. There might be caves in Elyne, or other Allied lands, though. The Cavern of Ultimate Punishment might be such a cave. But he had his doubts about that. It had looked too symmetrical to be natural. He suspected it had been built, or carved out of the rock, and the crystals attached to the walls later.
The Duna knew that they could not gain effective protection from the Allied Lands. They wanted trade. They would supply the Guild with magical stones – once their own caves recovered from the Traitors’ attack. It was up to the Guild to find something the Duna might want in exchange.
The Keeper had told him how the Traitors had always worked to destroy or steal any magical stones the Ashaki had taken from the tribes, and warned him that the Traitors would try to stop any trade with Kyralia. The Duna did not normally allow their own people to take magical stones out of their secret hiding places. A way would have to be found to transport them without raising Traitor or Sachakan suspicions.
Such precautions taken by both Duna and Traitors explained why the Ashaki had all but forgotten that such things existed. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few have a secret stash hidden away in their estates. Maybe they pass down the knowledge of how to use them to their heirs, maybe they’ve forgotten that they own anything more than pretty jewellery.
After all, if the Guild could forget that it had ever used black magic, it was possible the Ashaki had forgotten they had ever stolen magical gemstones from the Duna.
Dannyl hoped they had, otherwise getting the stones from Duna to Kyralia without the Ashaki finding out could be even more difficult. All it would take was one shipment to be discovered to put him in a diplomatically awkward and dangerous position. Achati’s anger would be the least of Dannyl’s worries.
He hadn’t had a chance to contact Administrator Osen yet. He’d been tempted to try back at the tent, but had been worried that Achati would think he was in a greater hurry to report to his superiors than he ought to be, when he’d essentially learned that storestones weren’t a threat and the rest of the information related only to his research.
What about now? he asked himself. He had to admit, he did not like the thought of transferring his attention elsewhere when a deadly precipice was a mere few steps away. The guide had assured them that the horses did not need directing. They knew the path and were as keen to avoid falling off it as their riders were. I’ll just have to trust mine won’t sense my mind is elsewhere and pitch me off for the fun of it. While the horses had so far only displayed a sturdy, placid temperament, he’d encountered enough contrary animals in his life to suspect that the species, as a whole, had a mischievous sense of humour and was inclined to play tricks the moment a rider’s attention strayed.
Pushing aside reluctance, he reached into his robes for Osen’s ring, slipped it on a finger and closed his eyes.
—Osen?
—Dannyl!
—Are you free to talk? I have some information to pass on.
—We are waiting for a Hearing to begin, but I have a little time to fill. I may have to end the conversation abruptly, however.
—I will be as concise as I can. Dannyl described his meeting with the tribesmen and the Keeper, and their proposal.
—How interesting. Osen’s excitement was faintly perceptible, like the sound of a distant vibration. A stone that blocks a mind-read and projects false thoughts.
Dannyl felt amusement and a little frustration. He’d expected Osen to be more interested in the proposed trade with Duna.
—As I said, if the Ashaki and Sachakan king find out about this, they’ll—
—The Hearing is beginning. Sorry, Dannyl. I have to go. Please take off the ring.
Opening his eyes, Dannyl slipped the ring off again and pocketed it. He felt a nagging doubt. Had Osen understood the significance of what Dannyl had told him? Had he seen the potential in trading with the Duna? More importantly, did he grasp the dangers in it, and in the Ashaki finding out about the mind-read-blocking stones?
I’ll have to trust that he does – or will when he gets the chance to think about it. Dannyl pushed the doubt aside. I do wish I could discuss this with someone, but I can’t even confide in Tayend. Not now that he’s an Elyne Ambassador.
The only person in Sachaka with whom he could have discussed the stones was Lorkin, and he was far away in the mountains, a willing prisoner of the Traitors.
The Guildhall echoed with voices as its occupants waited for the Hearing to begin. Standing to one side of the Front, Sonea looked up at the Higher Magicians and noted the same mix of worry and impatience on their faces that was growing inside her.
Where is Osen? Why haven’t Kallen and Naki arrived yet?
Beside her, Lilia seemed oblivious to the rising tension. The young woman’s gaze was fixed elsewhere. Her expression was sad and resigned.
She’s grown up a lot these last few months, Sonea mused. The confused, dazed young woman whose mind Sonea had read after Lord Leiden’s murder had been naïve and short-sighted – as surely anybody would have to be to experiment with black magic without considering the consequences.
To be fair, she was addled with roet and completely besotted. Just one of those could lure most novices into doing things they’d regret later.
Lilia had matured, however. She had learned to stop and try to anticipate the effects of her actions. She was also less trusting. When she’d agreed to escape with Lorandra, she’d made a choice, aware that the woman might not be trustworthy. Though it was a bad choice, it had been, in her mind, the best chance to save her friend.
It’s the fact that she was willing to sacrifice her own future – and perhaps her own life – to find Naki that impresses me. I only wish she’d trusted me over Lorandra. But then, maybe it’s my fault for not convincing her that I was doing all I could to find Naki.
Which hadn’t been much, Sonea admitted. She had left it to Kallen. She would not make that mistake again.
Even Cery didn’t trust me to know that he had Lilia. Perhaps he was protecting us both. What I didn’t know about, I didn’t feel obliged to deal with. It does worry me that he sent Lilia to rescue Naki. Did he not co
nsider that Naki might not want to be rescued? If I hadn’t been there, Naki would have killed her.
She couldn’t help wondering if Cery had hoped to keep Lilia for himself. Would Lilia have agreed to that?
As for Naki, the only crime she had admitted to was learning and using black magic. She had done that out of the same foolish urge that had led Lilia to learn it. Her story of blackmail and working for a Thief was a little shaky. Sonea, Dorrien and Nikea had heard her tell Lilia that she was “learning the ropes”. Perhaps Naki had given up escaping the underworld and figured that her only future was in it – even to the point where she would obey an order to kill Lilia.
Clearly, whatever the Thief threatened her with if she didn’t work for him, it wasn’t to kill Lilia. What was the threat, then? Kallen never mentioned it.
After Naki and Lilia had left the meeting of Higher Magicians in Osen’s office, Kallen had told them that Naki blamed the Guild for the situation she had been in, their forcing her to live outside the Guild leaving her vulnerable to blackmail and too easily accessible to criminals.
Sonea suspected that many would sympathise with that view. Though, like Lilia, Naki had learned black magic through foolish experimentation, she had been forced to work for a Thief. Lilia’s position was a little more pre carious. She had deliberately run away – and released Lorandra in the process. She could have argued that Lorandra had persuaded her to go – it was partly true – but that would cancel out the positive aspect of her devotion to finding her friend. Still, the fact that Lilia’s only motive had been to find Naki, and that she was successful, would gain her considerable support.
Both young women knew black magic. If the Guild chose to punish them for that, the least they could expect was imprisonment. The trouble was, the block on their magic had failed. Sonea knew that some magicians were claiming she had done a bad job of it. They wish it was so, therefore they believe it was so, she thought. No doubt Kallen would do the deed next time. She did not think he would succeed.