The Rogue (9 page)

As Pelaya set the tray down and offered him a cake, he wondered how much the queen had guessed of his plans, because he doubted she believed he was content to settle into his place among the Traitors forever.

Perhaps she was telling him to hold off on them because he’d have a better chance of success after she died, if Savara succeeded her.

But having met her now, I really like her, and I hope that doesn’t happen very soon.

As the lamps were lit around the courtyard, Sonea started toward the strangest of the Guild buildings. The Dome wasn’t really a dome, but a full sphere – a hollow ball of solid rock. Since half of it was buried in the ground it had a domelike appearance.

It was as old as the Guild itself. Before the Guild had built the Arena – a shield of magic supported by huge curved struts – the more dangerous fighting lessons had been held inside the Dome. There had been many disadvantages to using the structure for this purpose. Unlike with the Arena, spectators could not watch the lesson inside. The thick walls would never have survived a strong attack, so all practice strikes had to be restrained. The strikes that did hit the walls could heat the stone up, making the interior intolerably hot. And the only way to get fresh air inside was to open the plug-like door.

According to the old records that Akkarin had found, the plug had been knocked out during lessons many times over the years, and once even killed a passing servant. Now it was being held in place by magic. Twice a day it was removed and new air sent into the interior to replace the old. At the same time, food and water was taken in and the bucket that served as a toilet removed and emptied.

Sonea could not help thinking of her experience as a captive rogue. Rothen had kept her in his rooms, slowly gaining her trust with kindness and patience while teaching her about the Guild. But Lorandra was no ignorant young woman, come to magic by accident and of greater danger to herself than the Guild. She had her powers well in check and, with her son, had plotted against the Guild.

Yet I know what it’s like to be locked in the Dome.
When the Higher Magicians had discovered that Sonea had learned black magic, they had imprisoned her here for a night, and Akkarin in the Arena, while they roused the Higher Magicians in preparation for their trial. It was stuffy and oppressive.
I was in there for only a handful of hours. I can’t imagine what it’s been like to be stuck in there for months.

Sonea took a deep breath and resisted the urge to turn and walk in another direction. While she felt some sympathy toward Lorandra, she was always reluctant to visit the woman. Skellin’s mother had never spoken a word, and hate and fear had radiated from her. The woman’s hate she could live with. It was the uncompromising hate of a mother toward those who would harm her son, and having experienced that emotion herself Sonea figured that it was fair.

No, it was the fear that bothered Sonea. She was used to people being a little afraid of her because of what she had done in her youth and was capable of doing with black magic, but Lorandra’s fear was simple blind terror, and that made irrelevant all Sonea had done in her life to prove that she was an honourable and trustworthy person.

And Cery would have me lie to her.

The two guards standing on either side of the door looked bored and annoyed, but as they saw her approaching they straightened and nodded to her respectfully. Both were male and from the Houses, she noted. So far she hadn’t seen any magicians from the lower classes standing guard. Did Administrator Osen not trust that they would keep a Thief’s mother imprisoned? Surely he wasn’t naïve enough to think that magicians from the higher class were immune from being blackmailed or bribed by the underworld. She stopped and nodded at the door.

“How long since it was last opened?”

“Three hours, Black Magician Sonea,” the taller of the magicians replied.

“Did you get Administrator Osen’s instructions?”

He nodded.

“Good. Let me in.”

The two magicians stared at the door in silent concentration. Instead of swivelling open, it slowly slid forwards, then rolled sideways to lean against the Dome wall. The interior was dark. Lorandra had plenty of power with which to keep her prison lit, but if she used it she always extinguished her light when she heard the door opening. Sonea took a deep breath, created a globe light and sent it before her as she entered.

As always, the woman was sitting on the narrow bed in the centre of the room. Sonea walked down the curved slope of the “floor” and stopped a few steps away. The woman stared back at her, her face expressionless but her eyes dark and unfriendly.

Sonea considered what to say. In the past she’d tried indirectly approaching the questions she most wanted to ask by mingling them with others. Where did roet come from? Was it a drug from their home country? How was it made? Why had Lorandra been buying books on magic? Had she managed to find many? Where were they now? Why did Skellin think the Guild would be fooled into believing Forlie, the hapless woman he had set up as a fake rogue to prevent the Guild capturing his mother, was a magician? Where was Forlie’s family?

Some of the questions were ones to which Sonea already knew the answers, some Sonea already knew Loranda
didn’t
know the answer to. Cery had recommended this, because it was important to avoid revealing how much the Guild didn’t know.

But Lorandra had said nothing.

So Sonea tried being more direct. Where was Skellin? How long had he lived in Imardin? Which Thieves were his allies? Which Houses were linked to him? Were any Guild magicians under his sway? Did he have allies in Elyne? Lonmar? Sachaka? How many Thieves had she killed? Had she tried to kill Cery? Had she tried to kill Cery’s family?

No shift of expression had betrayed Lorandra’s reaction to that last question. It was the one Sonea most wanted an answer to, aside from the whereabouts of Skellin.

If only Osen had chosen me to read Lorandra’s mind at the Hearing, not Kallen. I could have sought the answer there and nobody would have known I had done so but Lorandra.
But that would have meant Forlie’s mind would have been read by Kallen, and Sonea would not have wished that on the poor, frightened woman.

Sonea remembered Lorandra’s dismay and surprise that she could not stop Kallen reading her mind. Hopefully that meant the magicians of Lorandra’s homeland did not know black magic – possibly did not even know
of
it. From what Kallen had described, Lorandra’s people forbade all magic, though those who imposed the ban were magicians themselves. Lorandra had broken the law and learned magic in secret. It was likely she did not know how powerful the law keepers were.

The Guild is so worried about offending the people of her land if they block her powers, but if what Kallen says is true, the Guild’s very existence would offend them. Lorandra is a criminal there as well as here. They would want not just her, but all of us, executed.

Igra was far away, with a reassuringly big desert between it and the Allied Lands. Chances were nobody there remembered Lorandra, since she had left many years ago, and if they did they probably thought she was dead. It was a pity she hadn’t approached the Guild from the start. They might have taken her in, or allowed her to live in Imardin with some sort of arrangement that allowed her restricted use of magic. Instead she’d adopted the life of an assassin and, with her son, made herself rich by selling roet.

Sonea thought of all the people who had suffered and died because of this woman. This time she didn’t push away the anger that rose or try to retain some compassion. This time she let it harden her resolve.

“I’m not here to question you,” Sonea told the woman quietly. “I’m here to inform you that the Guild will block your powers soon. You won’t be able to use magic. The good news is that you won’t be stuck in here any more. I can’t tell you what they’ll do with you after that, but they won’t be setting you free within the Allied Lands.”

Lorandra’s expression shifted slightly, from hatred to worry, and Sonea felt a surge of triumph far stronger than the change deserved. She turned away and stepped toward the door. A raspy croak sounded behind her and she paused, then forced herself on.

“Wait.”

Sonea stopped and turned. Lorandra’s dark eyes caught the light as she lifted her head.

“Will it hurt?” she asked in a whispery voice.

Sonea stared back at her. “Why should I answer your questions when you’ve answered none of mine?”

Lorandra’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Sonea turned away, then stopped and looked back.

“Not if you don’t fight it,” she told the woman quietly, so the guards couldn’t hear. Lorandra’s eyes swivelled to meet hers. “And … and it is reversible,” Sonea added in an even quieter voice.

She made herself turn away and step out of the door, wondering if what she had seen in the woman’s eyes was hope or suspicion.

“The first thing you need to remember is that pregnancy is not an illness or an injury,” Lady Indria told the class. “But there are many problems that can arise from pregnancy and childbirth. Unlike the majority of conditions that hamper or prevent pregnancy, which we have covered so far this year, the problems of pregnancy and childbirth can cause death, to either mother or child, or both.”

Lilia glanced at her friends. Both Froje and Madie were sitting with straight backs, listening to Lady Indria intently.
They’re almost as captivated as they were during the lessons on preventing pregnancy
, Lilia mused. She looked around the room. Most of the novices looked interested in the lesson. Even the boys were, which surprised her even though all Healers were expected to learn how to advise a mother and deliver a baby.

A few of the girls had been missing from class until now. All were snooties. The Houses had never objected to their daughters learning how to prevent conception until it had become an official part of the University’s Healing lessons. No parents of lowies had raised the slightest fuss. They couldn’t afford to raise grandchildren while their daughters finished their education in the Guild.

I should find this more interesting than I do
, Lilia thought.
I suppose I would, if I was in love with someone or likely to get married soon. That would give me reason to think about the future, and of having children. Right now that all seems so unlikely. Madie may be right when she says you can’t tell when you’ll find someone special, but even if that someone came along next week I doubt I’ll want to have children for many years yet.

She still needed to pay attention, though, because if she was to become a Healer she’d have to be able to help pregnant women. Forcing herself to listen, she started taking notes. When Lady Indria finally stopped lecturing and began answering questions, Lilia felt Madie’s breath on her cheek as the girl leaned toward her.

“You meeting Naki tonight?” Madie murmured.

Lilia smiled. “Yeah. She’s going to help me practise curved strikes.”

Madie drew in a breath to say something more, then made a small noise of frustration.

“What?” Lilia asked, looking up.

Her friend’s face was taut with indecision and worry.

“What?” Lilia repeated.

Madie sighed and glanced around the class. She leaned even closer.

“People are starting to notice you hanging out with her. You must know what they’re saying.”

Lilia’s stomach swooped lower, a sensation that left her nauseated.

“What are they saying?” she forced herself to ask.

“That you and her …” Madie straightened suddenly as Indria spoke her name. Lilia listened as her friend answered the Healer’s question. The teacher gave Lilia a stern look, then turned away and resumed her lecture.

Lilia leaned closer to Madie.

“What are they saying?”

“Sh. I’ll tell you later.”

For the rest of the class Lilia found it twice as hard to concentrate as before. What could people possibly find to gossip about concerning her friendship with Naki? Was it the lowie/snootie thing? Did it have anything to do with Naki’s father? Naki had said he disapproved of lowies. Maybe he was threatening to stop Naki seeing Lilia.

By the time the University gong rang out, Lilia’s notes were a fragmented mess and her thoughts not much better. She followed Madie and Froje out of the classroom.

“Well?” she prompted.

The two girls exchanged looks. Madie’s expression was almost pleading. Froje’s was expectant. Madie turned to smile thinly at Lilia.

“We’d better do this before we join the boys.” She glanced around the hallway, then led Lilia and Froje into an empty classroom, checking to make sure there was nobody there. She turned to Lilia.

“It’s said … people say …” She paused and shook her head. “Naki doesn’t like boys.”

“Well, she likes them, but not in the way that girls are
supposed
to like them,” Froje injected.

“She likes girls.” Madie looked at Lilia, then away.

“In a way that girls are
not
supposed to.”

A strained silence followed. Lilia found that she was not surprised. She was certainly not as shocked as they expected her to be. As a servant, she had seen and heard many things that novices who had grown up in more sheltered homes didn’t know about. Her father had told her not to judge people too quickly.

Though they weren’t looking at her, expectation flowed from Lilia’s friends. As the silence lengthened, Lilia felt a rising panic. She should react, or they’d think she already knew.

And approved.

“Um,” she began.

“You know what we mean, don’t you. Girls who like girls in the way that boys—” Madie began.

“I know what you mean,” Lilia interrupted. She bit her lip. “Is it true? I mean, people make these things up all the time – especially about people who they resent for something. Like being beautiful and rich. Or for not being interested in them. Naki’s turned away a lot of boys – or so I’ve heard. That might make her just seem to like girls more.”