Yet if Lorlen tried to hide the evidence of magic, and it turned out that Akkarin wasn’t the killer, people would continue to die at the hands of a rogue magician. Eventually the murderer would be found, the truth would come out, and people would question why Lorlen hadn’t done anything—
—You must investigate it yourself.
Lorlen blinked in surprise. Akkarin’s mind-voice was as quiet as a whisper. He managed to stop himself from staring at the ring.
—Tell Barran that the evidence of magic must remain secret. If the public knows that a magician has turned into a killer it will generate panic and distrust.
Nodding, Lorlen looked up at Barran. “I will need to discuss this with my colleagues. For now, don’t let any word that this murderer uses magic spread further than necessary. Better that we can deal with this man without the public knowing he is a rogue. I will contact you tomorrow.”
Barran nodded. As Lorlen rose the young guard quickly got to his feet.
“There is one other piece of information that might interest you,” Barran said as he followed Lorlen to the door.
“Yes?”
“Word is going around that the Thieves are looking for this man, too. Seems they don’t much like having a killer about who isn’t in their control.”
“No, I imagine they wouldn’t.”
Barran stepped out of the door. “Thank you for seeing me at such a late hour, Administrator.”
Lorlen shrugged. “I am often up late. Though I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep during the rest of the night after this piece of news. Still, I thank you for bringing it to me so soon after receiving word yourself.”
The young guard smiled, then bowed. “Good night, Administrator.”
Watching Barran walk away, Lorlen sighed. He looked down at the ring on his hand. Are you the murderer? he projected at it.
There was no answer.
The passage turned again and Sonea paused to get her bearings. At first she tried to picture the plan in her memory, but after several tries she gave up and reached into her robe pockets.
It was a week since she had first entered the passages. She had visited them every night, each time leaving the map in her robes until she was forced to use it. She wanted to memorize it all in case Regin and his allies ambushed her and looked through her box or pockets once they had exhausted her.
Sonea’s searching fingers found nothing. The map wasn’t there. Her heart skipped and started racing. Had she lost it? Had she dropped it somewhere in the passages? She didn’t think there’d be much hope of retracing her steps. All those turns and intersections behind her…
Then she remembered that she had hidden the map inside the fraying cover of one of her medicine books, which was in her box—and she had left her box at a passage entrance, not wanting to lug it around while exploring.
She cursed herself for forgetting and started back the way she had come. After several hundred paces she stopped, shaking her head. She should have reached familiar ground by now, but the turns and intersections were all wrong.
She was lost.
She didn’t feel frightened, only annoyed at herself. The Guild grounds were big, but she doubted the tunnels would go far beyond the area covered by the buildings. If she kept going, she was bound to find herself under the University eventually. So long as she didn’t wander aimlessly, and paid attention to the general direction they took her, she would find her way out.
So she started walking. After several twists and turns, and the discovery of a small complex of rooms including one with a blocked fireplace and a tiled room that must have once been a bath, she came to a dead end where the roof had collapsed. It was not one of the dead ends she had encountered before. Doubling back, she chose another path.
Eventually she found herself in a straight passage with no side entrances. Her curiosity grew stronger as she continued down this passage. A straight tunnel like this must lead to something. Perhaps another Guild building. Or perhaps it led out of the Guild altogether.
After a few hundred paces she encountered an alcove. Stepping into it, she discovered the mechanism for a hidden door. She found the spy hole that all of the doors contained and put her eye to it.
A room lay beyond, but she could not see much of it. Not only was the room dark, but a piece of dirty glass had been placed over the hole, blurring the view.
But she could see enough to know that the room was empty. Reaching for the mechanism, she pulled a lever and the door swung open. She looked around the room and felt her blood turn to ice.
It was the room underneath the High Lord’s Residence.
For what seemed an age all she could do was stare around, her heart hammering in her chest. Then slowly her legs obeyed her need to get away. Her hands groped for the lever that would close the door and found it.
As it slid shut her muscles unfroze and went limp. She sagged against the wall, heedless of faren or other insects, and slid to her knees.
If he’d been there…
It was too terrifying to think about. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to stop shaking. She looked up at the door and down at herself. She was kneeling next to a secret entrance to Akkarin’s room. Not a good place to be, particularly if he was in the habit of using these passages.
Strengthened again by fear, she stumbled to her feet and hurried away. Though the passage continued past the alcove, she no longer felt any need to know where it led. Breathing quickly, she broke into a run and fled in what she hoped was the direction of the University.
31
An Unplanned Encounter
The road twisted about, following the curve of the land as it wound through the foothills of the Grey Mountains. As Dannyl, Tayend and their servants rode around a corner, a striking building came into sight. It rose straight up from the edge of a precipice. Tiny windows dotted the walls, and a narrow stone bridge led to an unadorned opening.
Dannyl and Tayend exchanged glances. By Tayend’s expression, Dannyl knew the scholar found the building as unwelcoming as he did. He turned to the servants.
“Hend, Krimen. Go ahead and see if Dem Ladeiri will grant us a visit.”
“Yes, my lord,” Hend replied. The two servants nudged their horses into a trot and disappeared beyond the next turn of the road.
“Not a friendly-looking place,” Tayend muttered.
“No,” Dannyl agreed. “More like a fort than a house.”
“It was a fort once,” Tayend said. “Centuries ago.”
Dannyl slowed his horse to a walk. “What can you tell me of Dem Ladeiri?”
“He’s old. About ninety. He has a few servants, but lives alone otherwise.”
“And he has a library.”
“Quite a famous one. His family has collected all sorts of oddities over the last few hundred years, including some books.”
“Perhaps we’ll find something useful here.”
Tayend shrugged. “I’m expecting to find much that is strange, and little that is useful. Librarian Irand said he knew the Dem when they were both young men, and called him an ‘amusing eccentric.’”
Dannyl watched for glimpses of the building through the trees as they continued along the road. They had been travelling for three weeks, staying no more than a night in any place. Introducing himself to country Dems and testing their children was becoming a chore, and none of the libraries they visited contained anything they had not already learned.
Of course, this may have been the case for Akkarin as well. His quest for knowledge of ancient magic had ended without him producing any great discoveries.
At last the bridge appeared before them. It spanned a dizzying drop to a ravine far below. Deep within an opening in the front wall of the building were two large wooden doors, hanging from hinges so rusted that Dannyl wondered why they hadn’t yet given way. A thin, white-haired man wearing clothes that looked a size too large stood between the doors.
“Greetings, Ambassador Dannyl.” The old man’s voice
was thin and wavering. He bowed stiffly. “Welcome to my home.”
Dannyl and Tayend dismounted and handed the reins to their servants. “Thank you, Dem Ladeiri,” Dannyl replied. “This is Tayend of Tremmelin, scholar of the Great Library.”
The Dem turned and peered short-sightedly at Tayend. “Welcome, young man. I have a library too, you know.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. A library famous throughout Elyne,” Tayend replied with convincingly affected eagerness. “Full of curiosities. I would love to see it, if you do not mind.”
“Of course you can!” the Dem exclaimed. “Come inside.”
They followed the old man into a small courtyard, then through a rusty iron door into a hall. Though the furnishings were luxurious, a smell of dust hung in the air.
“Iri!” the old man called shrilly. Footsteps hurried to a doorway and a middle-aged woman wearing an apron appeared. “Bring my guests some refreshments. We’ll be in the library.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she saw Dannyl’s robes. She bowed hastily and backed out of sight.
“There’s no need to take us to the library straightaway,” Dannyl said. “We do not wish to inconvenience you.”
The Dem waved a hand. “It’s no inconvenience. I was in the library when your servants arrived.”
They followed the old man into a corridor, then down a long, spiral staircase that looked as if it had been carved out of the rock wall. The last section of the staircase was made of sturdy wood, and opened out into the middle of a vast room.
Dannyl smiled as he heard Tayend’s gasp. Clearly, the scholar had not expected to be impressed.
The room was carefully divided by rows of shelving. Spread before them were stuffed animals, bottles of preserving liquid containing organs and creatures, carvings made from all manner of materials, strange contraptions, lumps of rock and crystal, countless scrolls, tablets, and shelf after shelf of books. Huge sculptures stood here and there, making Dannyl wonder how they could have been brought down the stairs into the library—or even transported through the mountains. Charts of stars and other mysterious diagrams hung from the walls.
They followed the Dem through these marvels, too amazed to speak. As he led them down an aisle between the books, Tayend peered at the small plaques engraved with subjects and numbers attached to each shelf.
“What are these numbers for?” the scholar asked.
The Dem turned and smiled. “Cataloguing system. Each book has a number and I keep a record of them all on paper.”
“We don’t have anything this detailed at the Great Library. We keep books on the same subject together…as best we can. How long have you had this system in place?”
The old man glanced at Tayend sideways. “My grandfather invented it.”
“Did you ever suggest the Great Library adopt it?”
“Several times. Irand did not see any value in it.”
“Really.” Tayend looked amused. “I would love to see how it works.”
“You will,” the old man replied, “since that is what I am about to show you.”
They left the shelves and arrived at a large desk surrounded by wooden chests of drawers.
“Now, is there any particular subject you would like to explore?”
“Have you got any books on ancient magical practices?” Tayend asked.
The old man’s eyebrows rose. “Yes. But can you be more specific?”
Dannyl and Tayend exchanged a glance.
“Anything to do with the King of Charkan or Shakan Dra.”
The Dem’s eyebrows rose higher. “I will check.”
He turned and pulled open a drawer to reveal rows of cards. Flicking through, he called out a number. Then, closing the drawer, he moved down to the end of the shelves and turned into an aisle. Stopping at one of the bookcases, the Dem ran a finger along the spines, then tapped one.
“This is it.” He drew out the book and handed it to Tayend.
“It’s a history of Ralend of Kemori.”
“There must be a reference to the King of Charkan in there, or my cards would not have led me to this book,” the Dem assured him. “Now, follow me. I believe we have some artifacts, too.”
They followed the Dem out of the bookshelves to several rows of drawers. These, too, were numbered. The old man pulled out a drawer and set it on a nearby table. As he peered inside he gave a low exclamation.
“Ah! That’s right. This was sent to me five years ago. I remember thinking that your High Lord would have wanted to see it.”
Once more Tayend and Dannyl exchanged a glance.
“Akkarin?” Dannyl asked, looking into the box. It contained a silver ring. “Why would he be interested?”
“Because he came to me many years ago looking for information about the King of Charkan. He showed me this symbol.” The Dem held up the ring. Set into it was a dark red gem, and carved into the surface of the gem was a crescent moon next to a crude hand. “But when I sent him a letter telling him what I had received, he replied that he was unable to visit because of his new position.”
Taking the ring, Dannyl examined it closely.
“The person who sent it said that, according to legend, magicians can use it to communicate with each other without fear of being overheard,” the Dem added.
“Really? Who was this generous donor?”
“I don’t know. He—or she—didn’t give their name.” The Dem shrugged. “Sometimes people don’t want their family to know they’ve given something valuable away. In any case, it’s not a true gem. It’s only glass.”
“Try it,” urged a voice at Dannyl’s shoulder.
Dannyl looked at Tayend, surprised. The scholar grinned. “Go on!”
“I’d need to be communicating with another magician,” Dannyl pointed out, as he slipped the ring on his finger. “And have a third to test if he could detect our conversation.”
Dannyl looked down at the ring. He felt nothing to indicate anything magical was happening.
“I can’t sense anything from it.” He pulled it off and gave it back to the Dem. “Perhaps it once held some magical properties, but has lost them over time.”
The old man nodded and put the box away. “The book may be more enlightening. There are chairs over here for reading,” he said, waving them across the room. As they reached the chairs, the woman they had seen earlier arrived with a tray laden with food. Another followed carrying glasses and a bottle of wine. Tayend sat down and began leafing through the history of Ralend of Kemori.
“‘The King of Charkan spoke of his path,’” he read. “‘He came by the mountains, stopping to offer gifts at Armje, the city of the moon.’” Tayend looked up. “Armje. I’ve heard that name.”
“It is a ruin now,” the Dem said, his mouth still full of savory bun. “Not far from here. I used to climb up there all the time, in my younger days.”
As the Dem began to describe the ruins enthusiastically, Dannyl saw that Tayend wasn’t listening. The scholar’s gaze sharpened as he continued to read the book. Knowing that look, Dannyl smiled. The Dem’s library hadn’t turned out to be the collection of useless oddities that Tayend had been expecting.
In the two weeks since she had first entered the secret passages, Sonea hadn’t once encountered Regin. While she hoped discovery by Lord Yikmo had put off Regin’s allies, she suspected it hadn’t.
She had heard nothing to indicate they had been punished. Yikmo had not mentioned the incident again, and no one else seemed to know of it, so she guessed he had respected her request to keep silent. Unfortunately, this would only give Regin’s allies more confidence that they could harass her and get away with it.
Since Regin had always waylaid her somewhere on the second level, where the library was, she had been careful to exit the secret passages on the lower floor. The previous evening, she saw the first sign that he had worked this out. Entering the main corridor on the lower floor, she had seen a novice standing at the far end and, a few steps later, i
n the Entrance Hall, came face to face with one of the older boys. Though he hadn’t dared to attack her, he had smiled smugly as she passed.
So this evening she had exited the secret passages on the third level instead. Keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible, she cautiously made her way toward the main corridor.
If she encountered Regin and his friends, she could still run away and escape into the secret passages. If she wasn’t cornered before she could get to an entrance, that is, and if she could get into the passages without them seeing.
Rounding a corner, she glimpsed a flash of brown material around the next turn and felt her heart sink. As she backed away, she heard a faint whisper. Footsteps echoed from the direction she had come. She cursed under her breath and began to run. Darting into a side passage, she collided with a lone novice. A blast of magic hit her shield, but he was alone and she easily pushed him away.
Three turns later she encountered two more novices. They tried to block her path, but gave up after a moment. At the door to a portal room, she was delayed when four novices stepped out to fight her. Pushing past them, she placed a magical lock on the door.
Keep them separated, she thought, Yikmo would approve.
Moving into the inner passages, she hurried toward the nearest portal room. When she was in sight of it, she willed the door to open and close, then quickly retraced her steps.
Still alone, she thought. Slowing to quieten her footsteps, she took a winding path, finally coming to a door to the secret passages. Checking to make sure no one could see, she slipped a hand under a painting and felt the lever.
“She went this way,” a voice called.
Her heart skipped a beat. She yanked the lever down and stumbled through the opening, then pushed the door closed.
Surrounded by darkness, she peered through the peephole, breathing heavily. Through the little hole, she saw several novices pass. Counting them, she felt ill. Twenty novices.
But she had evaded them. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing quietened. A little warm air touched her neck.