The Magicians' Guild

  As his friend hurried away, Rothen returned to his room. Sonea was standing before her chair, looking a little flushed. She sat down again as he cleared the table.

  “He doesn’t sound like he wants visitors,” she said doubtfully.

  “He does,” Rothen assured her. “He just doesn’t like surprises.”

  Picking up the tray, he carried it to the side table, then took a sheaf of paper out of a drawer and wrote a quick note to Tania, letting the servant know where they were. As he finished, he heard Dannyl call his name.

  —There’s a bit of space here now. Come down.

  Sonea rose and looked at Rothen expectantly. Smiling, he moved to the door and opened it. Her eyes flickered about as she stepped outside, taking in the wide corridor and its numerous doors.

  “How many magicians live here?” she asked as they started toward the stairs.

  “Over eighty,” he told her, “and their families.”

  “So there are people other than magicians here?”

  “Yes, but only the spouses and children of magicians. No other relatives are allowed.”

  “Why not?”

  He chuckled. “If we had every relative of every magician living here, we would have to move the entire Inner Circle into the Grounds.”

  “Of course,” she said dryly. “What happens when the children grow up?”

  “If they have magical potential, they usually join the Guild. If they don’t, they must leave.”

  “Where do they go?”

  “To live with relations in the city.”

  “In the Inner Circle.”

  “Yes.”

  She considered this, then looked up at him. “Do any magicians live in the city?”

  “A few. It’s discouraged.”

  “Why?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “We’re supposed to keep an eye on each other, remember, to make sure none of us get too deeply involved in politics, or plot against the King. It’s harder to do that if too many of us live outside the Guild.”

  “So why are some allowed to?”

  They had reached the end of the corridor. Rothen started down the spiral staircase, Sonea following.

  “Many reasons, all unique to the individual. Old age, illness.”

  “Are there any magicians who decided not to join the Guild—who learned Control but not how to use magic?”

  He shook his head. “No. The young men and women who join us haven’t had their powers released yet. After that they learn Control. Remember, you are unique in that your power developed on its own.”

  She frowned. “Has anyone left the Guild before?”

  “No.”

  She considered this, her expression intent. From below came Dannyl’s voice, and another. Rothen slowed, giving Sonea plenty of time to become aware of the other magician.

  Then she shied to one side as a magician floated up the stairwell, his feet resting on nothing but air. Recognizing the magician, Rothen smiled.

  “Good evening, Lord Garrel.”

  “Good evening,” the magician replied, raising his eyebrows as he noticed Sonea.

  Sonea stared at the magician, her eyes wide. As Garrel’s feet reached the level of the higher floor, the magician stepped onto the solid surface of the corridor. He glanced down at Sonea once, his gaze bright with interest, then strode away.

  “Levitation,” Rothen told Sonea. “Impressive, isn’t it? It takes more than a little skill. About half of us can do it.”

  “Can you?” she asked.

  “I used to all the time,” Rothen told her. “But I’m out of practice now. Dannyl can.”

  “Ah, but I’m not the show-off that Garrel is.”

  Looking down, Rothen saw Dannyl waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I prefer to use my legs,” Rothen told Sonea. “My former guardian always said that physical exercise is as necessary as mental exercise. Neglect the body and—”

  “—and you neglect the mind,” Dannyl finished with a groan. “His guardian was a wise and upright man,” he told Sonea as she reached his side. “Lord Margen even disapproved of wine.”

  “Which must be why you never liked him much,” Rothen observed, smiling.

  “Guardian?” Sonea echoed.

  “A tradition here,” he explained. “Lord Margen chose to guide my training when I was a novice, as I chose to guide Dannyl’s.”

  She fell into step beside him as he started toward Dannyl’s rooms. “How did you guide him?”

  Rothen shrugged. “Many ways. Mostly, I filled in the gaps in his knowledge. Some were there because of the neglect of a few teachers, others were due to his own laziness or lack of enthusiasm.” Sonea glanced at Dannyl, who was smiling and nodding in agreement.

  “By helping me with my work, Dannyl also learned more through experience than he would in classes. The idea of guardianship is to help a novice excel.”

  “Do all novices have guardians?”

  Rothen shook his head. “No. It is not common. Not all magicians want or have time to take responsibility for a novice’s training. Only those novices who show considerable promise have guardians.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “So why…” She frowned, then shook her head.

  Reaching his door, Dannyl touched it lightly. It swung inward and a faint smell of chemicals wafted into the corridor.

  “Welcome,” he said, ushering them inside.

  Though the guestroom was the same size as Rothen’s, half of it was taken up with benches. Contraptions covered the surfaces, and boxes were stacked beneath. Dannyl’s work was neatly laid out and organized, however.

  Sonea looked around the room, obviously amused. Though Rothen had seen Dannyl’s rooms many times, he always found it strange encountering an Alchemy experiment set up in living quarters. Space in the University was limited, so those few magicians who wanted to pursue interests like Dannyl’s often used their own rooms.

  Rothen sighed. “It’s easy to see why Ezrille despairs of finding you a wife, Dannyl.”

  As always, his friend grimaced. “I’m too young to have a wife.”

  “Nonsense,” Rothen replied. “You just don’t have the space for one.”

  Dannyl smiled and beckoned to Sonea. She drew closer to the benches and listened as he explained his experiments. He brought out a few faded pictures and she examined them closely.

  “It can be done,” he finished. “The only challenge is to stop the image fading away.”

  “Couldn’t you get a painter to copy it before it does?” she suggested.

  “I could.” Dannyl frowned. “That would circumvent the problem, I suppose. He would have to be a good painter. Fast, too.”

  Handing the samples back, she moved to a framed map on the wall nearby.

  “You don’t have paintings,” she said, glancing around the room. “They’re all maps.”

  “Yes,” Dannyl replied. “I collect old maps and plans.”

  She approached another. “This is the Guild.”

  Rothen moved to her side. The plan was clearly labelled, in the neat writing of the Guild’s most famous architect, Lord Coren.

  “We are here.” Dannyl pointed. “In the Magicians’ Quarters.” His finger slid across to a similar rectangle. “That is the Novices’ Quarters. All novices who come to learn in the Guild are housed there, even if they have homes in the city.”

  “Why?”

  “So we can make their lives a misery,” Dannyl replied. Sonea gave him a very direct look, then snorted softly.

  “The novices are removed from their family’s influence when they come here.” Rothen told her. “We have to wean them off the little intrigues the Houses are always indulging in.”

  “We get plenty of new novices who have never needed to get out of bed before midday,” Dannyl added. “It comes as quite a shock to them when they learn how early they have to rise for class. We’d have no hope of getting them to lessons on time if they lived at home.”

  He pointed at
the circular building on the plan. “This is the Healers’ Quarters. Some of the Healers live there, but most rooms are reserved for treatment and classes.” His finger moved to a smaller circle within the garden. “This structure is the Arena. It is used as a practice area for the Warriors. There is a shield around it, supported by the masts, which absorbs and contains the magic of those within and protects everything outside. We all add our power to the shield from time to time to keep it strong.”

  Sonea stared at the plan, watching as Dannyl’s finger moved to the curved building next to the Magicians’ Quarters.

  “This is the Baths. It is built where a stream once ran down the hill from a spring up in the forest. We have piped the water into the building where it can be drawn into tubs and heated. Next to it is the Seven Arches, which contains rooms for entertaining.”

  “What are the Residences?” Sonea asked, drawing his attention to a label and an arrow that pointed off the page.

  “Several little houses where our oldest magicians live,” Dannyl explained. “Here, you can see them on this older map.”

  They crossed the room to a yellowing map of the city. Dannyl pointed to a row of tiny squares. “There, beside the old cemetery.”

  “There are only a few buildings in the Guild on this map,” Sonea noted.

  Dannyl smiled. “This map is over three hundred years old. I don’t know how much of Kyralian history you know. Have you heard of the Sachakan War?”

  Sonea nodded.

  “After the Sachakan War, there wasn’t much left of Imardin. When the city was rebuilt, the greater Houses took the opportunity to set out a new city plan.

  “You can see how it was built in concentric circles.” He pointed to the center. “First, a wall was erected around the remains of the old King’s Palace, then another around the city. The Outer Wall was constructed a few decades later. The old city was named the Inner Circle, and the new area was divided into the four Quarters.

  His finger circled the Guild. “The entire Eastern Quarter was given to the magicians in gratitude for driving out the Sachakan invaders. The decision wasn’t made carelessly,” he added. “The Palace and Inner Circle drew water from the spring in those days and building the Guild around the supply reduced the chance of anyone poisoning it—as had been done during the war.”

  He pointed to the small rectangle in the Grounds. “The first structure made was the Guildhall,” Dannyl continued. “It was built with the local hard gray stone. It housed both magicians and their apprentices and provided space for teaching and debate. According to the history books, a spirit of unity had taken hold of our predecessors. Through the sharing of knowledge, new ways to use and shape magic were discovered. It did not take long before the Guild had become the largest and most powerful school of magicians in the known world.”

  He smiled. “And it kept growing. When Lonmar, Elyne, Vin, Lan and Kyralia formed the Alliance, part of the agreement was that magicians from all lands would be taught here. Suddenly, the Guildhall wasn’t big enough, so they had to construct several new buildings.”

  Sonea frowned. “What happens to magicians from other lands when they finish learning?”

  “Usually they return to their homeland,” Rothen told her. “Sometimes they stay here.”

  “Then how do you keep an eye on them?”

  “We have ambassadors in each land who keep track of the activities of foreign magicians,” Dannyl told her. “Just as we vow to serve the King and protect Kyralia, they swear service to their own ruler.”

  Her eyes moved to a map of the region hanging nearby. “It doesn’t seem smart to teach magicians of other lands. What if they invade Kyralia?”

  Rothen smiled. “If we didn’t allow them to join the Guild, they would start their own, as they did in the past. Whether we teach them or not won’t prevent an invasion, but by doing so, we control what they are taught. We do not teach our own people differently, so they know they are not being treated unfairly.”

  “They wouldn’t dare attack us, anyway,” Dannyl added. “Kyralians have strong magical bloodlines. We produce more magicians than any of the other races, and stronger ones.”

  “Vindo and Lans are the weakest,” Rothen told her. “Which is why they are not common here. We get more Lonmar and Elyne novices, but their powers are rarely impressive.”

  “The Sachakans used to be powerful magicians.” Dannyl looked up at the map. “But the war ended that.”

  “Leaving us the most powerful nation in the region,” Rothen finished.

  Her eyes narrowed. “So why doesn’t the King invade the other lands?”

  “The Alliance was made to prevent it,” Rothen told her. “As you so astutely reminded me the first time we spoke, King Palen refused to sign it at first. The Guild suggested that it might not remain uninvolved in politics if he did not.”

  Her mouth curled into a faint smile. “What stops the other lands fighting each other?”

  Rothen sighed. “A great deal of diplomacy—which does not always work. There have been several minor confrontations since the Alliance. It is always an awkward situation for the Guild. Disputes usually revolve around borders and—”

  Hearing a timid knock, he stopped. He looked at Dannyl and knew from his friend’s expression that they were thinking the same thing. Had Fergun heard that Sonea was out of his rooms already?

  “Are you expecting anyone?”

  Dannyl shook his head and moved to the door. As it opened Rothen heard Tania’s voice and sighed with relief.

  “I brought your meal down,” the servant said as she entered the room. Two other servants followed, carrying trays. Setting their burdens down on the only empty table, they bowed and left.

  As the aroma of food filled the room, Dannyl made an appreciative noise. “I didn’t realize so much time had passed,” he said.

  Rothen regarded Sonea. “Hungry?”

  She nodded, her eyes sliding to the food.

  He smiled. “Then I think that’s enough history for now. Let’s eat.”

  24

  Unanswered Questions

  Reaching the end of the University corridor, Dannyl halted as the door to the Administrator’s office opened. A blue-clad figure stepped out and started toward the Entrance Hall.

  “Administrator,” Dannyl called.

  Lorlen stopped and turned around. Seeing Dannyl approaching, he smiled. “Good morning, Lord Dannyl.”

  “I was just coming to see you. Do you have a moment?”

  “Of course, but only a moment.”

  “Thank you.” Dannyl rubbed his hands together slowly. “I received a message from the Thief last night. He asked if we knew of the whereabouts of a man who was Sonea’s companion while she was hiding from us. I thought it might be that young man who tried to rescue her.”

  Lorlen nodded. “The High Lord received a similar inquiry.”

  Dannyl blinked in surprise. “The Thief contacted him directly?”

  “Yes. Akkarin has assured Gorin that he will let him know if he finds the man.”

  “I will send the same reply, then.”

  Lorlen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is this the first time the Thieves have contacted you since you captured Sonea?”

  “Yes.” Dannyl smiled ruefully. “I had assumed I would never hear from them again. Their message came as quite a surprise.”

  Lorlen’s brows rose. “It came as quite a surprise to all of us that you had been talking to them at all.”

  Dannyl felt his face grow warmer. “Not all. The High Lord knew, though I have no idea how.”

  Lorlen smiled. “Now that does not surprise me. Akkarin might not appear to show any interest, but don’t think he isn’t paying attention. He knows more about people, both here and in the City, than anyone else.”

  “But you must know more than he when it comes to the Guild.”

  Lorlen shook his head. “Oh, he knows more than I ever do.” He paused. “I am meeting him now. Do you have anything you wis
h me to ask him?”

  “No,” Dannyl replied hastily. “I should be going, myself. Thank you for your time, Administrator.”

  Lorlen inclined his head, turned and strode away. Starting back down the corridor, Dannyl soon found himself passing through a crowd of novices and magicians. With the first classes of the day about to start, the building was filled with activity.

  He considered the Thief’s message again. There had been an undertone of accusation in the letter, as if Gorin suspected that the Guild was responsible for the man’s disappearance. Dannyl did not believe that the Thief would blame the Guild for his problems as easily as the average dwell did—or that he would contact the High Lord if he didn’t have good reason to.

  So Gorin must believe that the Guild was capable of finding the man for them. Dannyl chuckled as the irony of the situation occurred to him. The Thieves had helped the Guild find Sonea, now they wanted the same kind of favor in return. He wondered if they would offer as large a reward.

  But why did Gorin think the Guild knew where the man was? Dannyl blinked as the answer came to him.

  Sonea.

  If Gorin thought that Sonea knew where her friend was, why hadn’t he contacted her directly? Did he believe she would not tell them? The Thieves had sold her to the Guild, after all.

  And her companion might have good reasons for disappearing, too.

  Dannyl rubbed his brow. He could ask Sonea if she knew what was going on, but if she didn’t know that her friend was missing the news might upset her. She might suspect the Guild of causing her friend’s disappearance. It could ruin all that Rothen had achieved.

  A familiar face appeared among the novices before him. Dannyl felt a small twinge of dread, but Fergun did not look up. Instead, the Warrior hurried past and turned into a side passage.

  Surprised, Dannyl stopped. What could have absorbed Fergun so completely that he had not even noticed his old foe? Moving back down the corridor, Dannyl peered down the side passage and caught a glimpse of red robes before the Warrior turned another corner.

  Fergun had been carrying something. Dannyl hovered at the passage entrance, tempted to follow. As a novice, he would have seized any opportunity to discover any of Fergun’s little secrets.