“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t tell you here,” Dannyl said, his eyes flickering about.
“Outside then?” Rothen suggested.
They walked out into falling snow. White flakes fluttered all around them, hissing as they met Rothen’s shield. Dannyl moved to the fountain and stopped.
“Guess who I saw in the University just now.”
“Who?”
“Fergun and Sonea.”
“Sonea?” Rothen felt a twinge of anxiety, but pushed it away. “He has the right to talk to her now, Dannyl.”
“Talk to her, yes, but take her from your rooms?”
Rothen shrugged. “There is no rule against it.”
“Aren’t you concerned?”
“Yes, but it will do no good to protest, Dannyl. It’s better that Fergun is seen to overstep his welcome, than I protest at his every move. I doubt she would have gone with him if she didn’t want to.”
Dannyl frowned. “Don’t you want to know where he took her?”
“Where?”
A look of vexation crossed Dannyl’s face. “I’m not sure, exactly. I followed them into the University. Fergun took her into the inner passages. After that I lost them. They just disappeared.”
“They vanished before your eyes?”
“No. I could hear Fergun talking, then everything was silent. Too silent. I should have heard footsteps, or a door closing. Something.”
Once again, Rothen pushed away a feeling of unease. “Hmm, I would like to know where he took her. What could he possibly have to show her in the University? I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
“And if she doesn’t tell you?”
Rothen stared at the snow-covered ground, considering. The inner passages of the University led to small, private rooms. Most would be empty, or locked. There was nothing else there…except…
“I don’t suppose he’s shown her the underground passages,” he murmured.
“Of course!” Dannyl’s eyes brightened, and Rothen instantly regretted his words. “That’s it!”
“It’s highly unlikely, Dannyl. Nobody knows where the entrances are except—”
Dannyl wasn’t listening. “It makes sense now! Why didn’t I think of them?!” He pressed his hands to the side of his head.
“Well, I would suggest strongly that you keep out of them. There are good reasons for the ban against using them. They’re old and unsafe.”
Dannyl’s eyebrows rose. “So what about the rumors that a certain member of the Guild uses them on a regular basis?”
Rothen crossed his arms. “He can do as he pleases, and I’m sure he’s capable of surviving if a passage collapsed. I’m also sure he wouldn’t approve of you snooping around. What will you say if he discovers you in there?”
The light in Dannyl’s eyes faltered as he considered that. “I’d have to time it carefully. Make sure I knew he was elsewhere.”
“Don’t even consider it,” Rothen warned. “You’ll get lost.”
Dannyl snorted. “It can’t be any worse than the slums, can it?”
“You’re not going, Dannyl!”
But Rothen knew that, once Dannyl’s curiosity was roused, nothing would deter his friend but the threat of expulsion. The Guild wasn’t going to cast him out for breaking a minor rule. “Think carefully, Dannyl. You don’t want to ruin your chance to become an ambassador, do you?”
Dannyl shrugged. “If I can get away with negotiating with the Thieves, I doubt a little snooping around under the University will earn me much disapproval.”
Defeated, Rothen turned and started back toward the Night Room. “That may be so, but sometimes it matters whose disapproval you earn.”
28
The Hearing Begins
“Don’t worry, Sonea,” Tania whispered as they reached the front of the University. “You’ll be fine. The magicians are just a gaggle of old men who’d rather be sipping wine in their rooms than sitting in a drafty old hall. It will all be over before you know it’s started.”
Sonea couldn’t help smiling at Tania’s description of the Guild. Taking a deep breath, she followed Tania up the stairs of the grand building. As they passed through the huge open doors, she caught her breath.
They had entered a room full of staircases. Each was made of melted and fused stone and glass, and looked too frail to support a man’s weight. The stairs spiraled up and down and around each other like an elaborate piece of jewelry.
“The other side of the University isn’t like this!” she exclaimed.
Tania shook her head. “The back entrance is for novices and magicians. This is the way that visitors come, so it has to be impressive.”
The servant continued through the room and started down a short corridor. Sonea could see the bottom half of another pair of enormous doors ahead. As they reached the end of the corridor, Sonea stopped and stared around in awe.
They stood at the threshold of an enormous room. White walls stretched up to a ceiling of glass panels that shone brightly in the gold light of the afternoon sun. At the level of the third floor, a web of balconies crisscrossed the room—so delicate that they seemed to float in the air.
Before her stood a building. A building within a building. The rough gray walls made a dramatic contrast to the airy white of the Hall. A row of slim windows was spaced, like soldiers, along its length.
“This is the Great Hall,” Tania said, indicating the room. “That,” she pointed to the building, “is the Guildhall. It’s over seven centuries old.”
“That’s the Guildhall?” Sonea shook her head in disbelief. “I thought they replaced it.”
“No.” Tania smiled. “It was well made and has historical value, so it would have been a shame to tear it down. They took the inside walls out and made it into a hall.”
Impressed, Sonea followed the servant around the building. Several more openings led out of the Great Hall. Tania pointed to a pair of doors in the side of the Guildhall. “That’s where you’ll go in. They’re having their Meet now. The Hearing will start when it’s finished.”
Sonea’s stomach began to flutter again. A hundred magicians sat inside, waiting to decide her fate. And she was about to stand before them all…and deceive them.
She felt a sickening wave of apprehension. What if, despite her cooperation, Fergun did not win the claim? Would he still let Cery go?
Cery…
She shook her head as she remembered his halting admission in the dark cell. “I didn’t want to find out that the Guild really wanted to help you. You’d just come back and I didn’t want you going away. I didn’t want to lose you again.”
He loved her. Surprise had left her speechless at first, but when she thought back to the times she had noticed him watching her, how he would sometimes grow hesitant when talking to her, and how Faren had occasionally behaved as if Cery was more than just a faithful friend, it all made sense.
Did she feel the same way? She had asked herself the question countless times since their meeting, but she could not answer with certainty. She didn’t feel like she was in love, but perhaps the fear that gripped her when she considered the danger he was in meant she was. Or would she feel that concern for anyone she loved, whether as a friend or more than a friend?
If she loved him, wouldn’t her heart have leapt with joy at his admission? Wouldn’t she feel gratified that he had tried to rescue her, rather than guilty that his regard for her had led to his capture?
Surely, if she did love him, she wouldn’t have to ask herself these questions.
Pushing the thought aside, she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Tania patted her shoulder. “Hopefully it won’t be long, but you never know…”
A firm click echoed through the Hall, then the doors Tania had pointed to swung open. A magician stepped out of the building, then another. As more appeared, Sonea began to wonder why so many were leaving. Had the Hearing been cancelled?
“Where are they going?”
“Only the ones who are interested in watching the Hearing will stay,” Tania told her.
While some of the magicians left the Great Hall, others gathered into small groups. A few looked at her, their eyes bright with curiosity. Unsettled, Sonea avoided their gaze.
—Sonea?
She started, then looked toward the Guildhall.
—Rothen?
—It was a short Meet—over quickly. You’ll be called in soon.
Looking toward the Guildhall doors, Sonea saw a dark figure emerge. Her heart skipped as she recognized him.
The assassin!
She stared at him, sure that this was the man she had seen the night she had spied on the Guild. He wore the same grim, brooding expression she remembered. His black robes snapped around him as he strode across the room.
A few magicians turned and nodded to him, offering the same wary respect she had seen Faren give an assassin of the Thieves. He inclined his head in reply but did not stop. Though she knew she would draw his attention if she kept staring, she could not take her eyes from him. His gaze flickered to hers, lingered a moment, then shifted away.
She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder.
“There’s Lord Osen.” Tania was pointing toward the Guildhall doors. “The Administrator’s assistant.”
A young magician stood there, watching her. As she met his eyes, he beckoned.
“Go on,” Tania whispered, patting Sonea on the shoulder again. “You’ll be fine.”
Sonea took a deep breath and forced herself to walk across the Hall to the door. When she reached the young magician, he inclined his head politely.
“Greetings, Sonea,” he said. “Welcome to the Guildhall.”
“Thank you, Lord Osen.” She quickly sketched an awkward bow. Smiling, he gestured for her to follow him into the Guildhall.
The scent of wood and polish filled her senses as she stepped inside. The hall seemed larger than it had appeared on the outside, the walls rising up to a dark ceiling high above. Several magic globe lights hovered under the rafters, filling the room with a golden glow.
Rows of tiered wooden seats extended down the length of the building on each side. Sonea felt her mouth go dry as she saw the robed men and women watching her. Swallowing, she looked away.
Osen stopped and indicated that she should stay where she was, then climbed a steep arrangement of tiered seats to her right. These, she knew, were for the Higher Magicians. Rothen had drawn a diagram of the seating arrangement so she could memorize the magicians’ names and titles.
Looking up, she saw that the topmost row was empty. Rothen had assured her that the King rarely attended Guild ceremonies. His chair at the center was larger than all others, and the royal incal had been stitched onto the cushioned back.
A single chair stood below it. Sonea felt a vague disappointment as she saw that it was empty. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of the High Lord.
Administrator Lorlen sat at the center of the middle row. The seats on either side of him were empty. He was talking to Osen and a long-faced man in the seat below him who wore a black sash over his red robes. This, Sonea recalled, was Lord Balkan, the Head of Warriors.
To Balkan’s left sat the stern Lady Vinara, the Head of Healers, who had visited Rothen after he had announced that Sonea would be staying. To his right was an old man with an angular face and a large nose—Lord Sarrin, the Head of Alchemists. Both were watching Lorlen intently.
In the lowest row of seats were the Principles—the magicians who controlled and organized lessons in the University. Only two seats were occupied. Sonea frowned as she struggled to remember why, then looked up at Lord Balkan. The Warrior held both positions, she recalled.
Osen straightened and descended to the floor again. The Higher Magicians turned to regard the hall. Rising, Administrator Lorlen lifted his chin and surveyed the magicians in the hall.
“The Hearing to decide the guardian of Sonea will now begin,” he intoned. “Would Lord Rothen and Lord Fergun, as claimants to that role, please approach the front.”
Hearing the scrape of booted feet, Sonea looked up at the rows of magicians. A familiar figure was making his way down to the floor. As Rothen stopped a few steps from Osen, he looked at her and smiled.
She felt an unexpected pang of fondness and started to smile in return, but then she remembered what she was about to do and she looked down at the floor. He was going to be so disappointed in her…
Another set of footsteps filled the hall. Looking up, she saw that Fergun had stopped a few paces from Rothen. He, too, smiled at her. She quelled a shudder and looked at the Administrator instead.
“Both Lord Rothen and Lord Fergun have claimed guardianship of Sonea,” Lorlen told the audience. “Both believe they were the first magician to recognize her potential. We must now decide which claim shall be honored. I leave the proceedings of this Hearing to my assistant, Lord Osen.”
The young man who had led her into the room stepped forward. Taking a deep breath, Sonea stared at the floor and tried to steel herself for what she must do.
“Lord Rothen.”
Rothen turned to face Lord Osen.
“Will you please tell us of the events that led you to recognize Sonea as a potential magician.”
Nodding, Rothen cleared his throat. “On the day I recognized Sonea’s powers—the day of the Purge—I was paired with Lord Fergun. We had arrived at the North Square and were assisting in the barrier shield. As always, a group of youths started throwing stones.
“I was facing Lord Fergun at the time. The shield was about three paces from us, on my left. At the edge of my vision I saw a flash of light in the vicinity of the shield, and simultaneously felt the shield waver. I glimpsed a stone flying through the air just before it struck Lord Fergun on the temple, knocking him unconscious.”
Rothen paused, glancing at Fergun. “I caught Lord Fergun as he fell. When he was safely lying on the ground I searched for the one who had thrown the stone. That is when I saw Sonea.”
Osen took a step toward Rothen. “So this was the first time that you saw Sonea?”
“Yes.”
Osen crossed his arms. “At any point in time did you see Sonea performing magic?”
Rothen hesitated. “No, I did not,” he admitted reluctantly. A low murmur began among the magicians seated to his right, but it quickly died away as Lord Osen glanced in that direction.
“How did you know it was she who threw the stone that broke through the shield?”
“I judged the direction from which the stone had come, and guessed that it had to be one of two youths,” Rothen explained. “The closest—a boy—was not even paying attention. Sonea, however, was staring at her hands in surprise. As I watched she looked up at me, and I knew from her expression that she had thrown the stone.”
“And you believe that Lord Fergun could not have seen Sonea before then?”
“No, Lord Fergun could not have seen Sonea at all that day,” Rothen said dryly, “due to the unfortunate nature of his injury.”
A few chuckles and coughs echoed in the hall. Lord Osen nodded, then moved away. He stopped in front of Fergun.
“Lord Fergun,” he said, “will you please tell us of the events of that day as you saw them.”
Fergun inclined his head graciously. “I was assisting with the barrier in the North Square as Rothen has described. A group of youths came forward and began throwing stones at us. I noted that there were about ten of them. One was a young girl.” Fergun glanced at Sonea. “I thought she was behaving strangely, so when I turned away I continued to observe her in the corner of my eye. When she threw her stone I thought nothing of it, naturally, until I beheld a flash of light. I realized she must have done something to break the barrier.” Fergun smiled. “This surprised me so much that, instead of deflecting the stone, my first reaction was to glance at her to confirm that it was, indeed, her.”
“So you realized that Sonea had used magic after t
he stone broke through the shield, and before it struck you.”
“Yes,” Fergun answered.
The hall echoed with voices as this was discussed. Gritting his teeth, Rothen resisted the urge to stare at Fergun. The Warrior’s story was a lie. Fergun had never glanced toward Sonea. Rothen stole a quick look at her. She stood quietly in the shadows, her shoulders slumped. He hoped she understood how important her account would be in confirming his story.
“Lord Fergun.”
The room fell silent at this new voice. Rothen looked up at Lady Vinara. The Healer was regarding Fergun with her famous, unblinking stare.
“If you were looking at Sonea, how is it that the stone struck your right temple? That would indicate to me that you were looking at Rothen at the time.”
Fergun nodded. “It all happened very quickly, Lady,” he said. “I saw the flash and glanced at Sonea. It was only a fleeting look—and I recall wanting to ask if my companion had seen what this girl had done.”
“You did not even attempt to dodge?” Lord Balkan asked, his tone disbelieving.
Fergun smiled ruefully. “I am not accustomed to having stones thrown at me. I believe surprise overrode the instinct to duck.”
Lord Balkan looked at the magicians beside him and received slight shrugs. Watching them closely, Osen nodded as no more questions came. He turned to regard Rothen.
“Lord Rothen, did you see Fergun glance at Sonea between the time the stone broke through the barrier and when it struck him?”
“No,” Rothen replied, struggling to keep anger from his voice. “He was talking to me. The stone cut him off in the middle of a sentence.”
Osen’s brows rose. He glanced at the Higher Magicians, then looked up at the audience.
“Does anyone have an account that contradicts or adds to what we have heard?”
Silence answered him. Nodding slowly, Osen turned to regard Sonea.
“I call on Sonea as witness to this event.”