Page 39 of The Novice


  “This is a surprise to you,” Mayrie said.

  Dannyl nodded. “I had no idea. Are you sure?”

  “More sure than not. I would not have told you, except that I worry for him. Don’t lead him to believe anything of you that isn’t true.”

  Dannyl frowned. “Have I?”

  “Not that I can tell.” She paused and smiled, but her eyes remained hard. “As I said before, I am very protective of my younger brother. I only wish to warn you—and to let you know that, if I hear that he has been hurt in any way, you may find your stay in Elyne less comfortable than you would like it to be.”

  Dannyl regarded her closely. There was a steeliness to her gaze, and he didn’t doubt that what she said was true.

  “What would you have me do, Mayrie of Porreni?”

  Her face relaxed, and she patted his hand. “Nothing. Just take care. I do like what I’ve seen of you, Ambassador Dannyl.” Taking a step forward, she kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the morning meal tomorrow. Good night.”

  With that, she turned and walked away toward the house. Dannyl watched her go, then shook his head. Clearly, her purpose for leading him out here had been to give him this warning.

  Had Tayend suggested the visit so his sister could access Dannyl? Had he planned for his sister to perceive so much, and reveal it?

  “He is completely besotted with you, Dannyl.”

  Moving to the seat Tayend had vacated, he sat down. How was this going to change their friendship? He frowned. If Tayend didn’t know his sister had revealed his interest, and Dannyl continued to behave as if he didn’t know, then everything should remain the same.

  But I know, he thought. That does change things.

  Their friendship depended on how well Dannyl took this news. He considered his feelings. He was surprised, but not dismayed. It even pleased him a little to know someone liked him that much.

  Or do I like the idea for other reasons?

  Closing his eyes, he pushed that thought away. He had faced those questions before, and their consequences. Tayend was and could only ever be a friend.

  The entrances to the secret passages were surprisingly easy to find. Most were located in the inner part of the University, which made sense since the original designers would not have wanted mere novices stumbling upon them. The mechanisms for opening the doors in the wood panelling lay behind paintings and other wall ornaments.

  Sonea had started looking for them as soon as her evening class had finished, instead of going to the library. The corridors were quiet, but not completely deserted, which was why she never encountered Regin and his friends at this time. They preferred to wait until after she left the library, when they were sure the University was empty.

  Even so, she felt as tense as a bowstring as she moved through the passages. She inspected several of the hidden doors before she drew up the courage to try one. Though it was late, she could not help worrying about being observed. Finally, in a little-used part of the inner passages, she dared to flick the lever behind a painting of a magician holding drawing instruments and a scroll.

  The panelling swivelled inward silently, and cold air rushed out to chill her. Thinking back to the night Fergun had blindfolded and led her into the tunnels to meet Cery, she recalled how she had felt this change of temperature.

  Looking inside, she saw a dry, narrow passage. She had expected it to be dripping with moisture like the tunnels under the city. The Thieves’ Road was under the level of the river, however; the University was on higher ground—and, of course, there wouldn’t be any moisture up on the third floor.

  Worried that someone would see her standing next to the open door, Sonea stepped inside. As she let go of the door it swung shut, plunging the tunnel into darkness. Her heart skipped, then she winced as the globe light she willed into existence flared brighter than she had intended.

  Inspecting the passage, she noted that the floor was thick with dust. In the center the dust was thinner where the traffic of feet had scuffed it aside, but her boots had left faint footprints, indicating that no one had come this way for some time. All her doubts evaporated. She would not encounter anyone else in the passages; they were hers to explore. Her very own Thieves’ Road.

  She pulled out her plan of the passages and started forward. As she moved along, she found and noted other entrances. The secret ways were restricted to the larger walls of the University, so they were set out in a simple pattern that was easy to remember. Soon she had circled the entire top floor of the building.

  She hadn’t seen any stairs, however. Examining her map again, she noted the little crosses here and there. She moved to the location of one of them and examined the floor. Brushing dust aside with her toe, she uncovered a crack.

  Dropping into a crouch, she pushed the dust away with light sweeps of magic. As she suspected, the crack turned at right angles, once, twice…forming a hatch in the floor. Standing back, she concentrated on the slab of wood, willing it to rise.

  It hinged upward, revealing another passage below, and a ladder attached to the side wall. Smiling to herself, Sonea climbed down to the second floor.

  The layout of the passages of the second level was almost identical to those on the third. When she had checked all of the side passages, she located another hatch and descended to the ground floor. Again, the ways were similar, though there were fewer side passages, but here she found staircases leading even farther down, under the ground.

  Excitement grew as she discovered that the foundations of the University were riddled with tunnels and empty rooms, indicated by dashed lines on the map of the ground floor. Not only did the tunnels roam under the building, but they extended out beyond the walls and under the gardens. Heading away from the University, Sonea noted how the passage sloped down, deeper under the ground. The walls changed to brick, and roots hung from the ceiling. Remembering the size of some of the trees above, she realized she must be deeper underground than she had thought.

  A little farther on the passage ended where its roof had caved in. As she turned back, she considered how much time she had spent exploring. It was late. Very late. She did not want to give Akkarin reason to come looking for her—or worse, to order her to return to the residence after classes each night.

  So, satisfied with her success, she started back up into the University walls and emerged at a place where she knew the chance of being seen leaving the secret ways was remote.

  30

  A Disturbing Discovery

  As Tania cleared empty sumi cups from the table, Rothen yawned. He was taking smaller quantities of nemmin now, but that meant he often woke early and spent the last hours of the night worrying.

  “I spoke to Viola again this afternoon,” Tania said suddenly. “She’s still aloof—the other servants say she’s put a high value on herself since becoming Sonea’s servant. But she’s warming to me because I can tell her how best to please the High Lord’s favorite.”

  Rothen regarded her expectantly. “And?”

  “She told me that Sonea is well, though some mornings she looks tired.”

  He nodded. “That’s no surprise with all the extra lessons. I’ve heard that she’s been helping Lady Tya, too.”

  “Viola also said that Sonea has dinner with the High Lord on Firstdays, so perhaps he’s not neglecting her as much as you fear.”

  “Dinner, eh?” Rothen’s mood darkened as he thought of Sonea eating meals with the High Lord. It could be worse, he reminded himself. Akkarin could have kept her close by, could have…but no, he knew how stubborn she could be. She would not allow herself to be corrupted. Still, he could not help wondering what they talked about.

  —Rothen!

  Surprised, Rothen straightened in his seat.

  —Dorrien?

  —Father. How are you?

  —Well. And you?

  —I am well, but some here in my village are not. Rothen could sense his son’s concern. We have had an outbreak of black-tongue dise
ase here—an unusual strain of it. When it has passed, I will be coming back for a short visit, to bring a sample for Vinara.

  —Will I see you?

  —Of course. I could not come all the way without speaking to you! Can I stay in my old room?

  —You’re always welcome to.

  —Thank you. How is Sonea?

  —Well, from what Tania tells me.

  —You haven’t spoken to her yet?

  —Not often.

  —I thought she would be visiting you all the time.

  —She is busy with her studies. How soon will you be visiting?

  —I can’t tell you exactly. It could take weeks or months for this disease to run its course. I’ll let you know when I have a better idea.

  —Very well. Two visits in a year!

  —I wish I could stay longer. Until then, Father.

  —Take care of yourself.

  —I will.

  As Dorrien’s mind-voice faded, Tania chuckled. “How is Dorrien?”

  He looked up, surprised. “Well. How did you know it was him?”

  She shrugged. “You get a certain look on your face.”

  “Do I?” Rothen shook his head. “You know me far too well, Tania. Far too well.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, smiling. “I do.”

  She turned at a knock on the door. Rothen waved a hand and willed the door open, and was surprised when Yaldin stepped inside.

  “Good evening,” the old magician said. He glanced at Tania, who bowed and slipped out of the door, pulling it closed behind her. Rothen gestured to a chair and Yaldin sat down with a relieved sigh.

  “I’ve been doing some of this ‘listening’ you taught me,” Yaldin said.

  Abruptly, Rothen remembered that it was a Fourday. He had completely forgotten about the Night Room gathering. It was definitely time to stop taking nemmin. Perhaps he would try to sleep without it tonight.

  “Hear anything interesting?”

  Yaldin nodded, his expression growing serious. “It’s probably just speculation. You know what gossips magicians are—and you have a gift for choosing novices who get themselves into trouble. But I wonder if he can afford such rumors surfacing again. Especially n—”

  “Again?” Rothen interrupted. His heart had begun to pound at Yaldin’s words. Now he could hardly breathe. Had something happened in the past to cause people to question Akkarin’s integrity?

  “Yes,” Yaldin said. “The Elyne court is all abuzz with speculations—you know what they’re like. What do you know about this assistant of Dannyl’s?”

  Taking in a deep breath, Rothen let it out slowly. “So this is about Dannyl, then?”

  “Yes.” Yaldin’s frown deepened. “You do remember the rumors that circulated about the nature of his friendship with a certain novice?”

  Rothen nodded. “Of course—but nothing was ever proven.”

  “No, and most of us dismissed the rumors and forgot about the whole thing. But, as you may know, the Elynes are more tolerant of such behavior. From what I’ve heard, Dannyl’s assistant is known for it. Fortunately, most of the Elyne court believe that Dannyl is unaware of his assistant’s habits. They seem to find this quite funny.”

  “I see.” Rothen shook his head slowly. Ah, Dannyl, he thought. Isn’t Sonea enough for me to worry about? Must you cause me sleepless nights, too?

  But perhaps this wasn’t as bad as it first sounded. As Yaldin had said, the Elynes tolerated much, and loved to gossip. If the Elynes thought that Dannyl was unaware of his assistant’s preferences, and thought his ignorance merely amusing, there mustn’t be any proof that there was more to the relationship.

  And Dannyl was an adult now. He could handle himself in the face of public scrutiny. If anything, his past experience would have prepared him for it.

  “Do you think we should warn Dannyl?” Yaldin asked. “If he doesn’t know about this assistant…”

  Rothen considered this suggestion. “Yes. I’ll write him a letter. But I don’t think we should be too concerned. I’m sure he’ll know how to deal with the Elynes.”

  “But what about the Guild?”

  “Nothing will stop the gossip here but time, and neither you nor I—nor Dannyl—can do anything about that.” Rothen sighed. “I think this sort of speculation is going to follow Dannyl around all his life. Unless anything is proven, it’ll sound more tired and ridiculous every time it does.”

  The older magician nodded, then yawned. “You’re probably right.” He stood up and stretched. “I’ll be off to bed, then.”

  “Dannyl would be proud of your spying success,” Rothen added, smiling.

  Yaldin shrugged. “It’s easy once you get the trick of it.” He walked to the door. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Rising, Rothen moved into his bedroom and changed into his night clothes. As he lay down, the inevitable questions started running through his mind. Was he right? Would this gossip about Dannyl blow over?

  Probably. But only if nothing was proven.

  Trouble was, while he knew Dannyl better than anyone else, there was a side to the man that was still unknown to him. The novice he had adopted had been full of self-doubt and fear. Rothen had respectfully kept his distance, avoiding certain subjects and making it clear he did not intend to question Dannyl about the incident with the other novice. He knew that anyone who’d had their personal life publicly discussed—especially at such a young age—needed their privacy respected.

  All novices thought about their desires, about things Dannyl had been accused of. That was how the mind worked. It did not mean they were guilty of acting upon those thoughts.

  But what if those early rumors were true?

  Rothen sighed, rose, and returned to the guestroom. When he had taken on Dannyl’s guardianship, he had approached the Head of Healers, Vinara’s predecessor, for advice. Lord Garen had told Rothen that the occurrence of men taking male lovers was more common than generally thought. The old Healer had been surprisingly accepting of the practice, saying in his typical clinical fashion that there was no physical harm in an adult male relationship if both were free of disease.

  The social consequences, however, were far worse. Honor and reputation mattered more than anything else to the Houses, and the Kyralian court was painfully conservative. While Dannyl couldn’t be thrown out of the Guild for such a “crime,” he would become a social outcast. He would probably lose his ambassadorial position, and would never be offered a role of importance again. He would not be included in Guild projects, and none of his own experiments would receive funding or attention. He would be the butt of jokes and the victim of…

  Stop it. Nothing has been proven. It’s just a rumor.

  Rothen sighed and reached for the jar of nemmin. As he mixed the powder with water, he thought wistfully of the past year. How could so much have changed in a few short months? How he wished everything was still as it was a year ago, before Dannyl left for Elyne, and Sonea started at the University.

  Bracing himself for the bitter taste, he put the glass to his lips and gulped down the drug.

  At the knock on his office door, Lorlen looked up in surprise. He was rarely disturbed this late. Rising, he walked to the door and opened it.

  “Captain Barran,” he exclaimed in surprise. “What brings you to the Guild this late?”

  The young man bowed, then smiled thinly. “Forgive me for the late visit, Administrator. I’m relieved to find you awake. You said I should contact you if evidence of magic was found in connection with the murders.”

  Lorlen felt a stab of alarm. He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Come in and tell me what you have found.”

  Barran followed Lorlen into the room. Indicating with a wave that the young guard should sit down, Lorlen stepped around his desk and returned to his seat.

  “So tell me why you believe this murderer is using magic,” he prompted.

  Barran grimaced. “The burns on one of the bodies—but
let me first describe the scene.” He paused, obviously sorting through details in his mind. “We were alerted to the murders about two hours ago. The house is in the Western Quarter, in one of the wealthier areas—which was a surprise. We found no sign that anyone had forced their way into the house. One window was wide open, however.

  “Inside a bedroom we found two men, a young man and his father. The father was dead, and had all the marks we’ve come to associate with this murderer: wrists cut and marked with bloody fingerprints. The younger man was alive, though barely. He had typical strike burns across his chest and arms, and his ribcage was crushed. Despite this, we were able to question him before he died.”

  Barran’s expression was strained. “He said the murderer was tall and dark-haired. He was dressed in dark, strange clothing.” Barran glanced up at Lorlen’s globe light. “And one of those was floating in the room. He had arrived home and heard his father shouting. The murderer had been surprised at his discovery, and had struck out without hesitation, then had fled through the window.” Barran paused and looked at Lorlen’s desk. “Oh, and he was wearing a…”

  Seeing the guard’s surprised expression, Lorlen looked down. He caught his breath as he realized that Akkarin’s ring, glinting red in the light, was in plain sight. Thinking quickly, he lifted his hand to give Barran a better view.

  “A ring like this?”

  Barran’s shoulders lifted. “I can’t say exactly. The young man didn’t have time to describe it in detail.” He frowned and grew hesitant. “I don’t remember you wearing this before, Administrator. May I ask where you acquired it?”

  “It was a gift,” Lorlen answered. He smiled wryly. “From a friend who wasn’t aware of that detail about the murders. I felt I had to wear it, even if just for a little while.”

  Barran nodded. “Yes, ruby is not a popular stone at the moment. So, what will you do now?”

  Lorlen sighed and considered the situation. With such obvious evidence of magic, he ought to alert the Higher Magicians. But if Akkarin was the murderer, and an investigation led to this discovery, it would bring about the confrontation with Akkarin that Lorlen feared.