The Magicians' Guild (48 page)

The scene blurred and then Fergun was crouching in front of them, larger than reality.

Do what I tell you, and I will release your friend. Give me any trouble, and I will leave him there forever… When you tell them this, the Higher Magicians will have no choice but to grant me your guardianship. You’ll enter the Guild, but I assure you, it won’t be for long. Once you have performed a little task for me, you’ll be sent back where you belong.

You’ll get what you want and so will I. You have nothing to lose from helping me, but
... he picked up the dagger and ran a finger along the blade,
you’ll lose that little friend of yours if you don’t.

She felt a wave of anger from the presence at her side. Distracted, she glanced at Lorlen, and the painting faded into the wall. Turning back, she willed it to appear again.

Drawing on her memory, she filled the painting with an image of Cery, dirty and thin, and the room he had been imprisoned in. Fergun stood to one side, looking smug. The smell of stale food and human waste flowed from the painting into the room.

At this scene the Lorlen image shook his head. He turned to face her.

—
This is outrageous! It is fortunate, indeed, that the High Lord found your friend today.

At the mention of the black-robed magician, Sonea sensed the painting change. As she turned toward it, Lorlen followed her gaze and drew in a sharp breath.

—
What is this?

Within the frame stood the High Lord, dressed in blood-soaked beggar’s clothes. Lorlen turned to stare at her.

—
When did you see this?

—
Many weeks ago.

—How? Where?

Sonea hesitated. If she let him see the memory, he would know that she had trespassed and spied upon the Guild. He had not entered her mind to see that, and she was sure he could not complain if she pushed him out.

But a part of her wanted him to see. There could be no harm now in letting the magicians discover her intrusion, and she craved an answer to the mystery of the black-robed magician.

—
Very well. It began like this…

The painting changed to show Cery leading her through the Guild. She felt Lorlen’s surprise, then a growing amusement as the image jumped from scene to scene. She was spying through windows one moment, running through the forest the next, and looking at the books Cery had stolen. She sensed amusement from Lorlen.

—
Who would have guessed that was where Jerrik’s stolen books went? But what of Akkarin?

Sonea hesitated, reluctant to uncover that memory.

—
Please, Sonea. He is our leader and my friend. I must know. Was he hurt?

Drawing up the memory of a forest, Sonea projected it into the painting. Once again she moved through the trees to the gray house. The servant appeared, and she dropped down between the bushes and the wall. The tinkle that had attracted her to the grille rang in her imaginary room.

The High Lord stood in the painting again, this time wearing a black cloak. The servant arrived and she sensed recognition from Lorlen.

—
Takan.

It is done,
the High Lord said, then removed his cloak to reveal the bloodstained clothes. He looked down at himself in disgust.
Did you bring my robes?

At the servant’s mumbled answer, the High Lord pulled off the beggar’s shirt. Beneath it was the leather belt strapped to his waist and the dagger pouch. He scrubbed himself down, then moved out of sight and returned wearing black robes.

Reaching for the pouch, he removed the glittering dagger and began to wipe it on a towel. At this she sensed surprise and puzzlement from Lorlen. The High Lord looked up at the servant.

The fight has weakened me,
he said.
I need your strength.

Dropping to one knee, the servant offered his arm. The High Lord ran the blade over the man’s skin, then placed a hand over the wound. Sonea felt an echo of the strange fluttering within her head.

—
No!

A
wave of horror swept over her. Startled by the force of Lorlen’s emotions, Sonea’s concentration snapped. The painting went black, then disappeared completely.

—
It can’t be! Not Akkarin!

—
What is it? I don’t understand. What did he do?

Lorlen seemed to gather his emotions to himself. His image slowly faded to nothing and she realized he had left her mind.

—
Do not move or open your eyes. I must think this over before I face him again.

He was silent for several heartbeats, then his presence returned.

—
What you have seen is forbidden,
he told her.
It is what we call black magic. By using it, a magician can take strength from any living creature, human or animal. For Akkarin to be using it is … is terrible beyond belief. He is powerful
—
more powerful than any of us… Ah!
This
must be the reason for his extraordinary strength! If that is so, then he must have been practicing these vile arts before he returned from abroad…

Lorlen paused as he considered this.

—
He has broken his vow. He should be stripped of his rank and expelled. If he has used these powers to kill, the penalty is death … but…

Sonea sensed anguish from the magician. Another long silence followed.

—
Lorlen ?

He seemed to collect himself again.

—
Ah, I am sorry, Sonea. He has been my friend since we were both novices. So many years … and
I
had to find
this!

When he spoke again there was a cold determination behind his sending.

—
We must remove him, but not now. He is too powerful. If we confront him and he fights us, he could easily win
—
and each killing he made would make him stronger. With his secret revealed and no reason to hide his crime, he could kill indiscriminately. The entire city would be in danger.

Shocked by what he was describing, Sonea shivered.

—
Do not fear, Sonea,
Lorlen soothed.
I will not allow that to happen. We can’t confront him until we know we can defeat him. Until then, we must not let anybody know about this. We must prepare in secret. That means you must never speak of this to anybody. Do you understand?

—
Yes. But… must you let him remain the Guild’s leader?

—
Unfortunately, yes. When I know we are strong enough, I will gather all the magicians together. I will have to move quickly, without warning. Until then, only you and I can know of this.

—
I understand.

—
I know you want to return to the slums, Sonea, and I would not be surprised if this discovery has increased your determination to leave, but I must ask you to stay. We will need all the help we can get when the time comes. Also, I fear that, though I do not like to think it, you may be an attractive victim for him. He knows you have strong powers. You would be a potent source of magic. With your powers blocked, and living out of the sight of those who would recognize the death brought by black magic, you would be the perfect victim. Please, for your sake and ours, stay here with us.

—
You want me to live here, right under his nose?

—
Yes. You will be safer here.

—
If you couldn’t find me without the Thieves’ help, how would he?

—
Akkarin has finer senses than the rest of us. He was first to know when you started using your powers. I fear he would find you easily.

She sensed that he truly feared for her safety. How could she argue with the Administrator of the Guild? If he believed she would be in danger, then she probably was.

She had no choice. She had to stay. To her surprise, she felt no anger or disappointment, only relief. Cery had told her that she should not consider herself a traitor by becoming a magician. She would learn to use her magic, master the skills of Healing, and, perhaps, one day, she would take what she knew and help the people she had left.

And it would be satisfying to thwart those magicians who, like Fergun, believed that dwells should not join the Guild.

—
Yes,
she sent.
I will stay.

—
Thank you, Sonea. Then there is one other we must trust with our secret. As your guardian, Rothen may have reason to go into your mind again, particularly when the time comes to teach you Healing. He may see what you have shown me today. You must tell Rothen about Akkarin, and of all that I have said to you today. I know he can be trusted to remain silent.

—I will.

—
Good. Now I am going to release you and confirm Fergun’s crime. Try not to show any fear of Akkarin. If it helps, don’t look at him at all
—
and keep your thoughts buried deep.

Feeling his hands lift from her temples, she opened her eyes. Lorlen regarded her solemnly, his eyes bright, then his expression smoothed and he turned to face the Higher Magicians.

“She speaks the truth,” he said.

A shocked silence followed Lorlen’s words, then the room began to buzz with exclamations and questions. Lorlen lifted a hand and the room fell silent again.

“Lord Fergun imprisoned this young man,” Lorlen gestured toward Cery, “after he had told me he was going to escort him to the gates. He locked him in a room underneath the Guild, then told Sonea that he would kill her friend if she did not lie at this Hearing to confirm his story. Having won his claim, he intended to force her to break one of our rules, so that she would be publicly expelled.”

“Why?”
Lady Vinara hissed.

“From what Sonea understands,” Lorlen answered, “to dissuade us from offering a place in the Guild to other commoners.”

“She wanted to leave anyway.”

All eyes turned toward Fergun. He stared defiantly at the Higher Magicians.

“I’ll admit I got a little carried away,” he said, “but I only wanted to save the Guild from itself. You would have us welcome thieves and beggars into the Guild, without asking whether we, or the Houses, or even the King we serve, wishes it. It may seem a small thing to let a beggar girl into the Guild, but what will it lead to?” His voice rose. “Will we let more of them in? Will we become a Guild of Thieves?”

A murmur followed and, looking at the magicians on either side, Sonea saw several heads shaking.

Fergun looked at her and smiled. “She wanted to have her powers blocked so that she could return home. Ask Lord Rothen. He will not deny it. Ask Administrator Lorlen. I asked her to do nothing that she did not already want.”

Sonea clenched her fists. “Nothing I did not already want?” she spat. “I did
not
want to make the Novice’s Vow and then break it. I did
not
want to lie. You
imprisoned
my friend. You threatened to
kill
him. You are …” she stopped, suddenly aware that all eyes were watching her. Taking a deep breath, she faced the Higher Magicians. “When I first came here it took a long time before I saw that you were not …” she paused, not liking the image she saw of herself, standing in the Guildhall calling the magicians names. Instead she turned to point at Fergun. “But
he
is everything I had been taught to believe all magicians are.”

Silence followed her words. Lorlen regarded her solemnly, then slowly nodded. He turned to face Fergun.

“You have committed numerous crimes, Lord Fergun,” he said. “Some of them of the most serious nature. I need not ask you to explain yourself; you have done so quite well enough already. A Hearing to discuss your actions and decide your punishment will be held in three days. In the meantime, I suggest that you cooperate with our investigations.”

He strode past Osen and climbed the stairs between the Higher Magicians. The High Lord watched him, a half smile curling his lips. Sonea shivered as she imagined the conflicting emotions that Lorlen must feel under that gaze.

“The issue we have gathered to discuss is now irrelevant,” Lorlen announced. “I hereby grant guardianship of Sonea to Lord Rothen, and declare this Hearing ended.”

The hall filled with voices and the thunder of booted feet as the magicians rose from their seats. Sonea closed her eyes and sighed.
It’s over!

Then she remembered Akkarin.
No, it isn’t,
she reminded herself. _ But, for now, that is not for me to worry about._

“You should have told me, Sonea.”

Opening her eyes, she found Rothen standing in front of her, Cery at his side. She looked down.

“I’m sorry.”

To her surprise Rothen gave her a quick hug. “Don’t apologize,” he told her. “You had a friend to protect.” He turned to regard Cery. “I apologize on behalf of the Guild for your treatment.”

Cery smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “Get me my stuff back, and I’ll forget about it.”

Rothen frowned. “What are you missing?”

“Two daggers, a few knives, and my tools.”

“Tools?” Rothen echoed.

“Picks.”

Rothen lifted an eyebrow at Sonea. “He’s not joking, is he?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Rothen sighed, then looked over Sonea’s shoulder. “Ah! Here’s a man more familiar with the ways of Thieves—Lord Dannyl.”

Feeling a pat on her shoulder, Sonea turned to find the tall magician grinning down at her.

“Well done!” he told her. “You have done me, and the rest of the Guild, a great service.”

Rothen smiled crookedly. “Feeling particularly cheerful, Dannyl?”

Dannyl gave his friend a haughty look. “Who was right about Fergun, then?”

Sighing, Rothen nodded. “You were.”

“Now, do you understand why I dislike him so much?” Seeing Cery, Dannyl’s expression became thoughtful. “I think the Thieves are looking for you. They sent me a message asking if I knew where a companion of Sonea’s had disappeared to. They sounded quite concerned.”

Cery looked up at the tall magician appraisingly. “Who sent the message?”

“A man named Gorin.”