Leaving his suite, he made his way through the Guild House to find Tayend and Merria.
CHAPTER 25
BEFORE THE BATTLE
As Lilia neared the door to Sonea’s rooms she quickened her steps. The days since Skellin abducted Anyi had been unbearably long. It was hard to pretend nothing had happened. Hard to behave as if her lessons still mattered. Harder still to concentrate enough to learn anything. Hardest of all was to be around Kallen, when she couldn’t help thinking that, if he had just found and dealt with Skellin as he was supposed to have done, Cery would be alive and Anyi safe.
Reaching the door, she reached for the handle eagerly. Once inside she could stop pretending. Already she could feel the prickle of tears coming. Every day, as the strain of hiding her feelings disappeared, she had curled up on her bed and cried.
It’s all my fault. If I’d arrived earlier I might have been able to save Cery. I might have stopped Skellin taking Anyi.
Gol and Jonna argued otherwise. Gol had explained about the minefire trap he and Cery had set. As soon as she had healed his leg bones, despite her warning that he should not put weight on them yet, he had climbed to his feet and walked to the walls on either side, plucking tubes of powder out of holes and cursing.
“Why didn’t it work?” he said, over and over, she recalled. Then he asked me to bring my globe light closer. Showed me how the paper was stained with damp. Moisture in the walls had got in and ruined them. Not all, but he and Cery had only lit two of them, and they’d picked two of the damp ones.
Lilia suspected that Cery’s heart had been slowly failing for a long time. It could have stopped at any moment. If she had been around to help him when it happened he would have survived. She told Gol this, and hoped it made him feel a little less guilty.
Jonna had lamented that she hadn’t found Lilia quickly enough. She told how a magician had stopped her, concerned that she looked upset. When she’d told him she was looking for Lilia, he’d directed her to the wrong classroom. It would have been an easy mistake for the magician to make. Lilia’s timetable had changed a lot recently. He had probably made a guess, hoping to be helpful.
Turning the handle, she opened the door and stepped inside. Seeing Lord Rothen standing there, she blinked away the threatening tears and swallowed hard.
“Lord Rothen,” she said, bowing. Gol was sitting in one of the chairs, Jonna standing behind him. She and Jonna had smuggled Cery’s bodyguard, disguised as a servant, up to Sonea’s rooms, the night after Skellin’s attack.
Jonna had persuaded Lilia to tell Rothen everything. “You need a magician ally,” Lilia recalled her saying. “Rothen can be trusted to keep a secret. He’s kept plenty for Sonea over the years.” To Lilia’s relief, Rothen had been as discreet and helpful as Jonna had promised. He’d wanted to tell Kallen, until Gol repeated Skellin’s claim of having sources in the Guild.
As Lilia closed the door, Rothen’s mouth thinned in a sympathetic smile. “Lady Lilia.” He looked at Jonna, then down at the table. Following his gaze, Lilia felt her heart lurch. A square of paper lay there, with her name scrawled on it.
“Is it …?”
“From Skellin?” Rothen grimaced. “Probably. We haven’t opened it. We guessed you’d want to read it first. Sit down before you do.”
She slid into a chair, Rothen and Jonna taking the other seats. With trembling hands, she picked up the message and turned it over. The seal, she noted, was a simple crown hovering over a knife. King of the Thieves. Disgust and anger steadied her. She broke the seal and unfolded the paper. Her eyes moved over the words. As their meaning became clear, she dropped it back on the table.
“It’s an address,” she told them. “It says ‘tomorrow’ and a time. And he says to tell no one and come alone.”
“No surprises there,” Gol muttered.
“Where is the address?” Jonna asked.
“In Northside.” Cery’s old territory. He’s rubbing it in. She looked at Rothen. “I have to go. I have to try to save Anyi.”
He nodded. His agreement sent a perverse anger through her.
“Shouldn’t you tell me I can’t?” she asked. “You know what he wants. It’s bad enough we have a rogue magician ruling the underworld. A rogue black magician will be so much worse.”
“It may not be what he wants. He may already have found a book on black magic and learned it for himself, though that is unlikely. If there are any more books out there, they’re well hidden.” Rothen sighed. “Even so, we Higher Magicians have considered what to do if he does learn black magic.” He smiled thinly. “It won’t mean we can’t catch and deal with him, it’ll just be a little more dramatic when we do.”
“But many more people will die before you do. And we don’t even know if Anyi is still alive.” She felt her throat close and fought back tears again.
“He won’t have killed her,” Gol assured her. “He knows you’ll ask to see her before you teach him anything.”
Lilia took a few breaths to steady herself. “Even if she is alive, how do I know he’ll let her go after I’ve taught him?”
“You have to make sure she can get away before you teach him anything,” Rothen said.
“It would be easier if I could take another magician.”
“He’ll never let you,” Jonna said. “You can’t even take a magician disguised as a servant. He said you must be alone.”
Rothen nodded. “If he has sources here, a disguise may not work anyway.” He sighed. “If it weren’t for these sources, I’d suggest we go to the Higher Magicians. They could have Kallen make a blood ring so we can track Lilia with it. If the exchange goes badly we’ll be close enough to help.”
Lilia looked up at him in surprise. A blood ring! Why hadn’t I thought of that? “I can make blood rings. Kallen taught me.”
His eyes widened. “You can? Well then …” He straightened and rubbed his hands together. “We could have the beginning of a plan.”
Gol looked away. “Don’t ask me to help. Last plan I made wasn’t very good.”
“You did what you could with the few resources you had,” Rothen told him. “It was impressively bold. I’d never heard of minefire before. Intriguing stuff. If your trap had worked, you’d have delivered Skellin right to our door, so to speak.” He smiled briefly. “I’d appreciate your advice, Gol. You know the underworld and the city better than we do.”
Gol frowned. “Well … this idea of using a blood gem, if I’m getting it right how they work, will only be any good to us if you can pick the places you’re seeing through it,” Gol pointed out. “What if you don’t know where they are? What if you’re blindfolded?”
“Both would be a problem.” Rothen drummed his fingers on the chair, his brows creased in thought.
“Does Skellin know what a blood ring is?” Jonna asked. “He might notice it and make her take it off.”
Lilia shook her head. “I’m not supposed to wear a blood ring made from anyone else’s blood – except Sonea’s and Kallen’s.”
Rothen nodded. “Of course. Whoever supplied the blood would be able to read your thoughts and might learn about black magic. So Gol must wear one made of your blood.”
Lilia turned to Gol. “And you must smash it if anyone tries to get hold of it.”
“Otherwise it could be used against Lilia.” Rothen shook his head. “If only there was another way to follow you. It’s not like we have to track magicians often …” He drew in a quick breath and his eyebrows shot upward. “Ah! Of course! Sonea! We located Sonea before she joined the Guild by sensing her using magic.” He looked at Lilia. “All you have to do is use magic without hiding it. Concealing the use of magic was one of your earliest lessons.”
She nodded. Every year, when new novices joined the Guild, she detected a few of them using magic before they were taught how to conceal it. “But won’t Skellin sense that, too?”
“Only if he’s trying to. If you do something small and constant, like holding a shield
, that may lessen the chance he’d notice, too.”
“So you track me using magic,” Lilia said, “while Gol wears my blood ring because he’s more likely to recognise where I am.”
“Once you have tracked Lilia to Skellin, are you strong enough to fight him if something goes wrong?” Jonna asked Rothen.
“Skellin and Lorandra,” Gol added.
Rothen frowned and shook his head. “I doubt it. But between Lilia and me, we may be strong enough. We can’t risk recruiting another magician in case they are Skellin’s source. I wish Dannyl was here,” he added in a murmur.
“I can be as strong as I need to be,” Lilia pointed out, meeting Rothen’s gaze and holding it.
He grimaced. “It would be better if you avoided breaking the law against using black magic without permission. But … perhaps we can bend it a little. I will give you permission, as a Higher Magician, but that doesn’t comply with the law completely since it is supposed to be agreed upon by all Higher Magicians.”
Lilia looked down. If anything goes wrong, and the Guild doesn’t agree with him bending the law, he’ll lose his position. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Allowing you to go to this meeting, when there’s a chance you’ll be forced to teach a rogue black magic, is far worse than allowing you to strengthen yourself using willing volunteers. I can give you my strength tonight.”
“And mine,” Jonna said.
“Mine, too,” Gol added.
Rothen nodded. “I will recover my strength overnight.”
“Will we?” Jonna asked.
“Yes.”
“Then take strength from me tomorrow as well,” Jonna said. “It’s not as if I use it. Perhaps, if we give Lilia enough magic, she’ll be able drag Skellin back here with her.”
“Let’s concentrate on getting Anyi back,” Rothen said.
“Of course,” Jonna agreed. “But if there’s an opportunity to catch Skellin at the same time, let’s do it. It’s about time the King of the Underworld became the Inmate of the Lookout.”
The dusk sky was slowly darkening. No clouds hovered overhead for the sun to paint in colourful shades. Looking down from the rooftop, Lorkin wondered how this could be the same city he’d entered with Dannyl so long ago, excited at the prospect of being assistant to the Guild Ambassador to Sachaka. It feels like years ago, but not even one year has passed since we arrived.
Though the walls and buildings had not changed since Lorkin had left Arvice in the slave cart, the population had. Before, slaves had hurried up and down the streets, keeping their distance from carriages bearing their masters. Now the streets were crowded as ex-slaves fled the city centre, most on foot, some clinging to stolen carriages and carts.
A small group had been waiting when Savara and her team arrived at the mansion chosen as the gathering place before the battle. After taking the strength offered by the ex-slaves, Savara had sent them away, then split her team – now over sixty Traitors – into two groups: one to watch and guard, the other to arrange a meal and bedding. As the arrangements were made, Savara had headed for the roof.
“Why aren’t the Ashaki trying to stop them leaving?” Lorkin wondered aloud.
“Another man’s slave is another man’s problem,” Savara quoted. “They’re probably too busy trying to stop their own slaves escaping than worrying about everyone else’s.”
“In most estates, slaves came and went all the time,” Tyvara told him. “How else could they get food and other goods to the estate? All that kept them in place was the fact that there was nowhere to run to. An escaped slave would eventually be caught, and sent back to his master.”
“Unless an Ashaki manages to round up and imprison all of his slaves in one place, he can’t stop some of them getting away.” Savara’s eyes narrowed as she looked over the rooftops. “And plenty of Ashaki are away from home, fighting us.”
Lorkin followed her gaze. How many of these mansions house Ashaki preparing to face us in battle? How many are empty? So far Savara’s team had only fought small groups of Ashaki. He’d wondered at that, but reports via message stones had told of a larger, more organised army of Ashaki west of the city. After it had surprised and defeated one of her teams, Savara had ordered Traitors in that area to avoid it by circling around and joining teams to the north and south.
King Amakira must expect the Traitors to join together to form one army once they reached the city. Savara had indicated they would do so eventually, but for now the Traitors remained in smaller groups, taking advantage of most of the populace of Sachaka being on their side. While the Ashaki were out hunting for them, the Traitors were lying low, growing stronger on the strength of the Ashaki’s slaves.
While Lorkin saw the advantage in that, he was also worried that keeping the Traitor army divided made it vulnerable. The king’s army could easily defeat one of the smaller Traitor groups. It would be weakened by the fight, but in time would regain its strength, while the Traitors … once dead they stayed that way. But if the Ashaki are relying on slaves to replace the power they use, they will have a problem. The slaves have left.
Still, it would be better that no Traitor group confronted the army on its own in case, some fell into the king’s hands. He would torture information out of them, learn of Savara’s plans, the threat of gemstones … He would possess gemstones, too.
“The city will be empty by tomorrow,” Savara murmured. “Except for the Ashaki. The ones returning from the west will join those still here, and then we’ll see if our strategy and preparations and losses lead to the freedoms we seek.”
She sighed and looked up. Lorkin followed her gaze. Stars had begun to dust the sky and a chill had crept into the air. He frowned as they rippled, as if reflected in water.
Then something slammed into his right side and propelled him into Tyvara.
They both tumbled onto the roof. Tyvara scrambled into a crouch and he did the same, though more awkwardly than she. Pain speared through his right arm. Broken, he thought. Instinctively he sent Healing power to numb the pain, but he resisted mending the bone. He might need his strength for more important things. Like avoiding a more fatal strike.
If I hadn’t been holding a shield when the forcestrike hit, I would already be dead, he thought, restoring his shield. Though his barrier had been overcome, it had absorbed most of the strike.
Savara was standing straight, head high and glaring at something to his right. The air rippled as she sent strikes in reply to another attack. Tyvara was standing between him and the unseen attacker. She placed a hand on Savara’s arm, no doubt ready to give power if needed. Moving closer, he looked over Tyvara’s shoulder.
Four Ashaki were standing on a nearby rooftop. As they struck out with firestrike, their faces were bathed in red light. None looked much older than Lorkin. Too impatient to wait for their elders to join them?
Below, ex-slaves had noticed the battle. Some were running away, some had stayed to watch. Lorkin realised his heart was pounding. In all the confrontations between Savara’s group and Ashaki, he’d been part of a larger group. Now they were three against four. He tried not to think of all the power raging between this rooftop and the next, and failed. His knees felt weak. He placed a hand on Savara’s other shoulder and told himself it wasn’t for support. A memory of his Warrior lessons flashed through his mind. It is normal to be frightened during battle. What matters is that you follow your training.
But I’ve never been trained to use black magic in battle.
A shout came from below, then a streak of light shot up from the street between the buildings. The Traitor watchers below had noticed the battle and joined in. The Ashaki looked down and, realising that they were outnumbered, retreated. Three disappeared into a hatch, but the last, forced to defend with no help, faltered. A strike from Savara sent him tumbling away from the hatch, then over the far edge of the roof.
Suddenly the air was still. Savara, Tyvara and Lorkin stood frozen, silently watching. A rumbling mix of mu
ffled shouts, banging doors and the occasional boom came from below. A flickering light drew Lorkin’s eyes to a window of the house the Ashaki had disappeared into. The building was on fire.
Abruptly, Savara turned and led the way back to the hatch behind them. As she started down the rope ladder to the stairwell below, Tyvara grabbed his arm – thankfully the unbroken one – and pulled him after her.
“You first,” he said as they reached the hatch. “Give me a moment to sort out my other arm.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re hurt?”
“Not for long.”
“Then I’ll stay and protect you until …”
“Don’t be stupid. The Ashaki are gone and it won’t take long to heal. Someone has to protect Savara.”
She looked from him to the hatch, then sighed and started to climb down. “Don’t take too long,” she growled.
When she was out of the way, he strengthened his shield, sat with his legs dangling down the hatch opening and concentrated on Healing. He only needed the bone and tissues to mend sufficiently for him to climb down the ladder. Soon he was stepping off the last swinging rung, the hatch closed and bolted above him, and hurrying down the stairs after Tyvara and the queen.
At the bottom he pushed through a door into the corridor beyond, only to find it was now part of the Master’s Room, the wall between reduced to rubble. Traitors stood in a circle around their queen. As Lorkin came closer he saw she stood over three bodies, her expression grim. Two were Ashaki but the third … Lorkin’s breath caught in his throat as he recognised the woman as Speaker Halana.
The room seemed to spin for a moment. He remembered how Halana had called for volunteers to take the first watch. He also remembered her teaching him stone-making – her encouragement, her understanding of the sacrifice he’d made in learning black magic. The vast knowledge and great skill she’d had, now lost …