The Novice (61 page)

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Authors: Trudi Canavan

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Romance, #Magic, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #Epic

BOOK: The Novice
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The reply was spoken harshly, also in another language. Sonea went cold as she recognized Akkarin’s voice. Then a high wail of desperation sent her heart racing and she backed up the stairs, suddenly convinced she ought to be anywhere but there.

The door flew open.

Takan looked up at her and stopped. She didn’t see his expression, however. Her attention had been caught by the scene beyond.

Akkarin stood over a man dressed in simple clothing. His hand was wrapped about the man’s throat, and blood trickled through his fingers. In his other hand was a jewelled knife—a knife that was horribly familiar. As she watched, the stranger’s eyes glazed over and he slumped to the floor.

Then Takan cleared his throat, and Akkarin’s head snapped up.

Their gaze locked—like in her nightmares in which she relived the night when she had witnessed him in this room, only he saw her watching and she couldn’t move…then woke up with her heart racing.

But this time she wouldn’t wake up. This was
real.

“Sonea.” He spoke her name with unconcealed annoyance. “Come here.”

She shook her head, backed away, and felt the sting of magic as her shoulder encountered a barrier. Takan sighed and retreated into the room. Feeling the barrier press against her back, Sonea realized it was going to push her down the stairs. She pushed aside panic with an effort, straightened her shoulders and forced her legs to carry her into his domain.

As she stepped through the doorway the door closed behind her with a solid finality. She looked down at the dead man and shuddered at his empty, staring eyes. Akkarin followed her gaze.

“This man is—was—an assassin. He was sent to kill me.”

So he says.
She looked at Takan.

“It is true,” the servant said. He gestured. “Do you think the m—High Lord would mess up his own rooms?”

Looking around, she realized that the walls were scorched and one of the bookcases was a shambles of broken wood and scattered books. She had sensed and heard enough from the guestroom to suspect there had been some kind of magical battle going on below her.

So the dead man must have been a magician. She looked at him again. He was not Kyralian, or of any of the races belonging to the Allied Lands. He looked like…she turned to stare at Takan. The same broad face and gold-brown skin…

“Yes,” Akkarin said. “He and Takan are of the same people. Sachakan.”

That explained how the man could have magic, but not be of the Guild. So there were still magicians in Sachaka…but if this man was an assassin, why did he—or his employer—want Akkarin dead?

Why indeed?
she mused.

“Why did you kill him?” she asked. “Why not hand him over to the Guild?”

Akkarin’s smile was humorless. “Because, as you’ve no doubt guessed, he and his kind know much about me that I’d rather the Guild did not.”

“So you killed him. With…with…”

“With what the Guild calls black magic. Yes.” He took a step toward her, then another, his eyes level and unwavering. “I have never killed anyone who did not mean me harm, Sonea.”

She looked away. Was that supposed to reassure her, when he knew she would expose his secret if she could? That would certainly do him harm.

“He would be satisfied, indeed, if he knew the harm he has done by coming here and causing you to see what you have seen,” Akkarin said softly. “You must be wondering who these people are, who want me dead, and what their reasons are. I can tell you only this: the Sachakans still hate the Guild, but they also fear us. From time to time they send one of these, to test me. Do you really think it unreasonable of me to defend myself?”

She looked up at him, wondering why he was telling her this. Did he really expect her to believe anything he said? Surely, if the Sachakans were a danger, the rest of the Guild would know. Not just the High Lord. No, he practiced evil magic to strengthen himself and this was only a lie to ensure her silence.

His gaze moved over her face, then he nodded to himself.

“It does not matter if you believe me or not, Sonea.” He narrowed his eyes at the door, which swung open with a faint creak. “Only remember that, if you speak a word of this, you will bring about the destruction of everything you hold dear.”

She sidestepped to the door. “I know,” she said bitterly. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Reaching the doorway, she hurried up the stairs. As she reached the door to the guestroom, a voice drifted up from the room below.

“At least the murders will stop.”

“For now,” Akkarin replied. “Until the next one comes.”

Twisting the handle, Sonea stumbled into the guestroom. She stopped, breathing heavily as relief swept over her. She had faced the nightmare and survived. But she knew she would not sleep easily now. She had seen him kill, and that was not something she would ever forget.

Lord Dannyl’s Guide to Slum Slang

blood money
—payment for assassination

boot
—refuse/refusal (don’t boot us)

capper
—man who frequents brothels

clicked
—occurred

client
—person who has an obligation or agreement with a Thief

counter
—whore

done
—murdered

dull
—persuade to keep silent

dunghead
—fool

dwells
—term used to describe slum dwellers

eye
—keep watch

fired
—angry (got fired about it)

fish
—propose/ask/look for (also someone fleeing the Guard)

gauntlet
—guard who is bribeable or in the control of a Thief

goldmine
—man who prefers boys

good go
—a reasonable try

got
—caught

grandmother
—pimp

gutter
—dealer in stolen goods

hai
—a call for attention or expression of surprise or inquiry

heavies
—important people

kin
—a Thief’s closest and most trusted

knife
—assassin/hired killer

messenger
—thug who delivers or carries out a threat

mind
—hide (minds his business/I’ll mind that for you)

mug
—mouth (as in vessel for bol)

out for
—looking for

pick
—recognize/understand

punt
—smuggler

right-sided
—trustworthy/heart in the right place

rope
—freedom

rub
—trouble (got into some rub over it)

shine
—attraction (got a shine for him)

show
—introduce

space
—allowances/permission

squimp
—someone who double-crosses the Thieves

style
—manner of performing business

tag
—recognize (also means a spy, usually undercover)

thief
—leader of a criminal group

watcher
—posted to observe something or someone

wild
—difficult

visitor
—burglar

Glossary

Animals

aga moths
—pests that eat clothing

anyi
—sea mammals with short spines

ceryni
—small rodent

enka
—horned domestic animal, bred for meat

eyoma
—sea leeches

faren
—general term for arachnids

gorin
—large domestic animal used for food and to haul boats and wagons

harrel
—small domestic animal bred for meat

limek
—wild predatory dog

mullook
—wild nocturnal bird

rassook
—domestic bird used for meat and feathers

ravi
—rodent, larger than ceryni

reber
—domestic animal, bred for wool and meat

sapfly
—woodland insect

sevli
—poisonous lizard

squimp
—squirrel-like creature that steals food

zill
—small, intelligent mammal sometimes kept as a pet

Plants/Food

anivope vines
—plant sensitive to mental projection

bol
—(also means “river scum”) strong liquor made from tugors

brasi
—green leafy vegetable with small buds

chebol sauce
—rich meat sauce made from bol

crots
—large, purple beans

curem
—smooth, nutty spice

curren
—coarse grain with robust flavor

dall
—long fruit with tart orange, seedy flesh

gan-gan
—flowering bush from Lan

iker
—stimulating drug, reputed to have aphrodisiac properties

jerras
—long yellow beans

kreppa
—foul-smelling medicinal herb

marin
—red citrus fruit

monyo
—bulb

myk
—mind-affecting drug

nalar
—pungent root

nemmin
—sleep-inducing drug

pachi
—crisp, sweet fruit

papea
—pepper-like spice

piorres
—small, bell-shaped fruit

raka/suka
—stimulating drink made from roasted beans, originally from Sachaka

sumi
—bitter drink

telk
—seed from which an oil is extracted

tenn
—grain that can be cooked as is, broken into small pieces, or ground to make a flour

tugor
—parsnip-like root

vare
—berries from which most wine is produced

Clothing and Weaponry

incal
—square symbol, not unlike a family shield, sewn onto sleeve or cuff

kebin
—iron bar with hook for catching attacker’s knife, carried by guards

longcoat
—ankle-length coat

Public Houses

bathhouse
—establishment selling bathing facilities and other grooming services

bolhouse
—establishment selling bol and short-term accommodation

brewhouse
—bol manufacturer

stayhouse
—rented building, a family to a room

Peoples of the Allied Lands

Elyne
—closest to Kyralia in position and culture, enjoys a milder climate

Kyralia
—home of the Guild

Lan
—a mountainous land peopled by warrior tribes

Lonmar
—a desert land home to the strict Mahga religion

Vin
—an island nation known for its seamanship

Other Terms

cap
—coins threaded on a stick to the value of the next highest denomination

dawnfeast
—breakfast

midbreak
—lunch

simba mats
—mats woven from reeds

Acknowledgments

In addition to those people I acknowledged in
The Magicians’ Guild,
I would like to extend an extra thank you to:

The friends and family who generously gave their time to read and critique this book at short notice: Mum and Dad, Yvonne Hardingham, Paul Marshall, Anthony Mauriks, Donna Johansen, Jenny Powell, Sara Creasy, Paul Potiki.

Jack Dann, for launching
The Magicians’ Guild
with such flair and enthusiasm. Justin Ackroyd for letting me take over his bookshop, and Julian Warner and the staff at Slow Glass Books for their assistance.

Fran Bryson, my agent and hero. And the publishing team at HarperCollins for turning my stories into such lovely, attractive books.

The first half of
The Novice
was written during a residency at Varuna Writers’ Centre, granted by the Eleanor Dark Foundation. Thank you to Peter Bishop and the Varuna team for an inspiring and productive three weeks.

And finally, thank you to everyone who has emailed me with praise for
The Magicians’ Guild!
Knowing I gave you all a few hours enjoyment and escape makes it all worthwhile.

About the Author

TRUDI
CANAVAN
lives in a little house on a hillside, near a forest, in the Melbourne suburb of Ferntree Gully in Australia. She has been making up stories about things that don’t exist for as long as she can remember and was amazed when her first published story received an
Aurealis
Award for Best Fantasy Short Story in 1999. A freelance illustrator and designer, she also works as the designer and Art Director of
Aurealis
, a magazine of Australian fantasy and science fiction. You can e-mail her at
[email protected]
or find out more about Kyralia and the Magicians’ Guild at
www.spin.net.au/~trudi
.

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