The Ambassador’s Mission: Book One of the Traitor Spy Trilogy (48 page)

“F-Forlie,” the woman answered, her voice trembling.

“Did you know, Forlie, that all magicians in the Allied Lands must be members of the Magicians’ Guild?”

The woman swallowed audibly and nodded.

“Why aren’t you a member?” Sonea asked. There was no accusation in her voice, just curiosity.

The woman blinked, then her head turned toward Skellin. “I … I didn’t want to.”

Sonea smiled, and while it was a reassuring smile there was a sadness to it. “We have to take you to the Guild now. They won’t harm you, but you have broken a law. They’ll have to decide what to do with you. If you cooperate it will be better for you in the long run. Will you come with us quietly?”

Forlie nodded. Sonea reached out a hand to her. Whatever force Sonea or Regin had kept her arms fixed against her body with was removed and the woman’s shoulders relaxed. Tentatively, she reached out to take Sonea’s hand. The two of them walked over to Regin. Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Skellin looked pleased, Cery noted. Sonea and Regin looked grim but also relieved. Forlie …

Cery frowned, then walked over to the woman and tugged off her hood. He felt a shock as he saw her face.

“This isn’t her. This isn’t the rogue.”

There was a pause, then Skellin coughed. “Of course it is. She used magic, didn’t she?” He looked at Sonea and Regin.

“She did,” Regin agreed.

“Then there must be two rogues,” Cery said. “It might’ve been dark when I saw her, but Forlie doesn’t look anything like the woman I saw doing magic.”

“She has dark skin and she is the right age. You only saw her from above. How can you be so sure?”

“The shape of her face is all wrong.” The woman’s skin was lighter, too. She had Lonmar bloodlines, he guessed, and their typical physique. But the woman he’d seen in the pawnshop had an entirely different build. “She’s too tall.” And too meek to my family’s killer.

“You didn’t tell me this before,” Skellin pointed out.

Cery looked at him. “I guess I didn’t think it was worth going into detail, if there was only one woman using magic in the city.”

“It would have been useful to know.” For a moment a scowl crossed Skellin’s face, then he sighed and shrugged. “Well, I guess it’ll still be useful. You can identify the other one for us.”

Looking at Sonea, Cery saw she was shaking her head in dismay. He remembered how concerned she was that she might be discovered wandering about the city without permission. Once she brought this rogue to the Guild, they would know she’d defied their restrictions.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” he asked.

“We’ll make sure it isn’t,” Regin replied firmly. “But it may be a problem for you. Once word gets out that we have caught this w—” He glanced at the woman. “Forlie,” he corrected. “The other rogue will be more cautious. She will not be so easy to find.”

“Not that she was in the first place,” Skellin added.

Regin looked at the Thief. “Will you assist us again?”

“Of course,” Skellin smiled.

As the magician’s gaze shifted to him, Cery bowed. “As always.”

“Then we’ll be waiting for your next message,” Sonea said. “In the meantime, we need to get back to the Guild as quickly as possible.” Her eyes flitted away. Following her gaze, Cery saw that the light of dawn was filtering through windows all around the room.

“Yes. Go,” Skellin said. He waved a hand dismissively at the three men still standing over by the crates, watching with bemused expressions. “Continue your work,” he said to them. “Now, let me escort you out,” he said to the magicians. “Come this way.”

Forlie said nothing as she walked with the magicians and Thieves. They backtracked down the stairs, along the wide corridor, and into the room they’d spent most of the night in. The magicians retrieved their coats and stepped into the alley outside. Skellin wished them all well and said he would be in contact as soon as he had something to tell them. At the end of the alley, Cery stopped.

“Good luck and all that,” he said to Sonea. “I’ll be in touch.”

She smiled. “Thanks for your help, Cery.”

He shrugged, then turned away and strode to where Gol was waiting, concealed in the shadows of a doorway opposite the old butchery building.

“Who was that?” the big man asked, stepping out to meet Cery.

“Black Magician Sonea and Lord Regin.”

“Not
them
.” Gol rolled his eyes. “The woman.”

“The rogue.”

“No she isn’t.”

“Not our rogue. Another one.”

“You’re joking with me?”

Cery shook his head. “Wish I was. Seems we’re still on the hunt for our rogue. I’ll explain later. Let’s get home. It’s been a long night.”

“Sure has,” Gol muttered. He looked back. Following his gaze, Cery saw that Regin and Sonea were still standing by their cart.

“That’s odd. Sonea was in a hurry to get back,” Cery said.

“This whole thing has been odd from the start,” Gol complained.

He’s right
, Cery thought.
And nothing more odd than Forlie herself. The way she looked at Skellin when Sonea asked her a question … as if looking to him for instruction.

There was no doubt about it. Something wasn’t right. But they had caught a rogue magician. Maybe not the rogue magician he suspected had something to do with the death of his family, but at least there was one less rogue available for hire by unscrupulous characters like himself. Life in the city’s underworld was dangerous enough without magicians hiring themselves out.

Though it would be handy having one to call on now and then. It might make finding my family’s killer a lot easier.

One thing he was sure of, though. The other rogue would not be so easy to catch.

Lorkin sat down on a dried-out old log and waited. Somewhere ahead, several Sachakan magicians and their slaves, a Duna tribesman, and one Kyralian Ambassador were making their way toward him. Somewhere behind him, Tyvara and Chari waited. And all around him, Traitors were taking positions ready to spring the trap they’d planned.

He was alone.

Despite Speaker Savara’s air of confidence, he knew what they were planning was dangerous. She wouldn’t tell him how they planned to separate Dannyl from his companions. She’d said nothing when he’d asked if they were planning to kill anyone. He assumed they weren’t, because they seemed anxious not to give the Sachakan king reason to enter their territory, and the obligation to retaliate or seek revenge for Ashaki deaths would certainly provide that.

Savara had told him he would not have much time. Once the Ashaki realised Dannyl had been deliberately separated from them they would be determined to find him. And if Lorkin was still with Dannyl, he’d be captured.

Lorkin sighed and looked around at the bare, rocky landscape. He hadn’t been alone in weeks. It would have been a nice change, if it weren’t for the circumstances. But he doubted he was unobserved.

If it weren’t for that, I’d try contacting Mother.

The blood ring was now a worrying burden. It wouldn’t surprise him if the Traitors searched him before or just after he arrived in Sanctuary. Though they did not treat him as if he posed much of a threat, he wouldn’t expect them to trust him completely.

And when they do, they’ll find Mother’s ring. It’s too obvious that something has been stuffed into the spine of my notebook. They’ll investigate. They’ll find it and take it off me in case I let her know where I am. Do I trust them to keep it safe?

He wasn’t prepared to take the risk. So far he’d come up with only two solutions: hide it somewhere, or give it to Dannyl. He’d decided on the latter.

Wait a moment … that means I can use it now. It won’t matter if anyone sees me and works out what I’m doing. He’ll have it, and he’ll take it away with him.

He was surprised at the relief that flooded through him, but not at the sudden reluctance that came afterwards. While he wanted to explain what he was doing to his mother, and reassure her he was fine, she was going to take some persuading.

Still, he had to try. And he didn’t have much time.

Reaching inside his clothes, he took the notebook out. A bit of pushing and digging later, he had the ring. He took a deep breath, then slipped it on a finger.

—Mother?

—Lorkin!

Relief and worry filtered through to him like muffled music.

—Are you all right?
she asked.

—Yes. I don’t have much time to explain.

—Well … get to it then.

—Someone tried to kill me, but I was saved by a woman who is a member of a people called the Traitors. We had to leave Arvice because it was likely someone would try to kill me again. Now we’re heading toward the secret city she comes from. I’m going with her, but there’s a good chance they won’t let me leave the city in case I tell people where it is.

—Do you have to go?

—Yes. She wasn’t supposed to kill the person who tried to kill me. If I don’t speak in her defence they might execute her for murder.

—She saved you and now you want to save her.
She paused.
That’s fair, but is it worth being imprisoned?

—I think I can change their minds. But it might take a while. In the meantime … the Guild doesn’t know anything about them. I want to learn as much as I can. They have magic we’ve never seen before.

—The magic you went to Sachaka for in the first place.

—Maybe. I won’t know until I get there.

She was silent for a long moment.

—I can’t stop you … You had better be right about talking them into letting you go. Otherwise I’ll come fetch you myself.

—Give me a few years first. And lots of warning.

—Years!

—Of course. You can’t change a whole society overnight. But I’ll try to make it sooner.

—Well … you had better remember to put on the ring now and then.

—Ah, that’s going to be a problem. I suspect they’ll search me. If they find a blood ring, they’ll take it off me. They’re very keen to keep their city’s location a secret, and considering what the rest of Sachaka is like I don’t blame them. I’m going to give it to Dannyl.

—You haven’t spoken to Dannyl yet?

—No. But I will soon. I have to stop him following me, or the Traitors will have to kill him. I don’t suppose you could get Osen to tell him to stop?

—Not right now. I’m in the city.

A movement caught Lorkin’s eye.

—I have to go.

—Good luck Lorkin. Be careful. I love you.

—I love you, too.

He slipped the ring off and stood up. The movement he’d seen was a Traitor slowly making her way along the top of a ravine. Her attention seemed fixed on something below. Lorkin’s heart skipped a beat.

Dannyl had better be holding a strong shield
.

Ahead, Unh was casting about, moving in different directions then returning to the same spot. He shook his head, turned and beckoned to Dannyl. For some reason, the tribesman was more inclined to speak to Dannyl now, whenever there was something to report.

“Tracks stop here,” the man said, pointing to the ground. He looked up at the rock wall that loomed over them on one side. “We try there?”

Dannyl looked up and judged the distance. The top of the wall wasn’t too far away. Drawing magic, he created a disc of force beneath their feet. He took hold of the man’s upper arms, and the man did the same with his. They had done this many times already that day, either rising up to the top of a ridge or wall, or dropping down to a ledge or into a valley.

This close, the tribesman smelled of sweat and spices, a combination that was not entirely pleasing, but not too unpleasant, either. Concentrating, Dannyl lifted the disc upward, bearing them with it.

The rock wall rushed past, then fell away as they passed the top of it. There was a narrow ridge along the top. Dannyl moved them to the middle of this before setting them down. Beyond, the high peaks of the mountains cut the sky to a jagged edge.

“If magicians can do this, why don’t they fly over the mountains and find Traitor city?” Unh asked.

Dannyl looked at the man in surprise. The man hadn’t questioned his ability until now. “Levitation takes concentration,” he replied. “The further from the ground you are, the more concentration it takes. I’m not sure why. But the higher you go, the easier it is to become disorientated, and the further you have to fall.”

The man pursed his lips, then nodded. “I see.”

He turned away and began searching the ground. Moments later he gave a huff of satisfaction. He leaned over the precipice, looking down at the Sachakans, who were staring up in puzzlement.

“Trail goes here,” he called. Then he set off along the ridge.

Dannyl waited and watched as the Sachakans took it in turns to levitate themselves and their slaves up the rock face.

“We’re getting further in,” one of the Ashaki said, looking around. “Has anyone gone this far before?”

“Who knows?” another answered. “We’ve been trying to find them for centuries. I’m sure someone must have.”

“I doubt we’ve got that close to them,” a third pointed out. “They’d have tried to stop us by now.”

Achati chuckled and brushed dust off his clothing. “They won’t risk that our Kyralian friend might get hurt. Attacking us wouldn’t bother them, but they don’t dare kill a Guild magician in case it motivates our neighbours into helping us rid Sachaka of our Traitor problem.”

“We’d better stick close to the Ambassador, then,” the first Ashaki said. Then he lowered his voice. “Though not so close that we have to endure the stink of our tracker.”

The others chuckled. Dannyl looked beyond them to see that Unh was standing a hundred strides or so away, beckoning to him. It was obvious the tribesman preferred his assistance to the Sachakans’.
I can’t blame him. Though I have to admit, the man doesn’t smell too good. Still, I bet
I
don’t either, after walking through the mountains for days without a bath or a change of clothes.