The Novice

by Trudi Canavan

  Rothen felt a presence at his side and looked up.

  “Forgive me for interrupting,” Lord Jullen said stiffly, “but I would like to close the library now.”

  “Of course.” Rothen nodded, rising. “We’ll be out as soon as we’ve packed up.”

  As the librarian moved back to his desk near the door of the Magicians’ Library, Sonea sighed and closed the large book she had been reading. “I never knew people’s bodies were so complicated.”

  Rothen chuckled. “This is just the beginning.”

  They packed everything away efficiently. Books were snapped shut, paper was slipped into boxes, pens and ink bottles safely stowed. Rothen returned a few volumes to the library shelves, then ushered Sonea out of the library.

  The University was dark and quiet, and Sonea was silent as she walked beside him. Unable to work in his rooms for fear of raising suspicions again, he had suggested they use hers instead. She had shaken her head, pointing out that Regin could easily persuade another novice to come up with a story of suspicious noises or overheard conversations.

  Her suggestion of working in the Magicians’ Library was brilliant. The lessons were observed by the librarian, Lord Jullen, and she had access to books other novices needed special permission to use. Regin, like her, could only enter the library under the supervision of his guardian.

  Rothen smiled. He had to admire her ability to turn a bad situation to her advantage. As they stepped outside, he surrounded them both with a shield of magic and warmed the air within. Nights were growing increasingly chilly. Fallen leaves skittered over the courtyard, making quiet scraping noises as they touched the pavement. Winter was only a month away.

  Reaching the Novices’ Quarters, they walked inside. The corridor was empty and silent. Rothen escorted her to her door, then murmured a farewell. He turned away and heard the door click behind him.

  He had taken only a few steps when a figure entered the corridor. Recognizing the boy, Rothen slowed and narrowed his eyes.

  Their gaze locked. As Rothen passed, Regin turned his head to maintain the contact, his gaze unflinching despite the disapproval Rothen knew must show in his expression. The boy’s mouth curled upward slightly before he finally turned away.

  Snorting softly, Rothen continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. Regin had only harassed Sonea once or twice since she had moved to her new room, and not at all since she had changed classes. He had hoped the boy was losing interest in her. But as Rothen considered the confidence and malevolence in the boy’s gaze he felt a growing certainty that his hopes were in vain.

  —Rothen!

  Recognizing the sender immediately, he froze in mid-step and almost tripped over.

  —Dorrien! he replied.

  —I have good news, Father. Lady Vinara has decided it’s time I reported to her again. I will be visiting the Guild soon—probably in a month or so.

  Behind Dorrien’s sending were complex feelings. Rothen knew that travelling to Imardin for the sake of formality irked his son. Dorrien could not help worrying how the village he lived in would cope without a Healer for several weeks. There was also a reassuring eagerness in Dorrien’s sending. They hadn’t seen each other in over two years.

  But it wasn’t just that. Every time Rothen had communicated with his son lately he had detected a reluctant curiosity. Dorrien wanted to meet Sonea.

  —That is good news. Rothen smiled and continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. It’s been too long since you visited me. I’ve been wishing there was some way I could order you home.

  —Father! Dorrien’s sending was tinged with half-serious suspicion. You didn’t arrange this, did you?

  —No. Rothen chuckled. But I might keep it in mind for the future. I shall have your old room readied for you.

  —I’ll be staying for two weeks, so be sure to stock up on that good wine from the Lake District of Elyne. I’m heartily tired of the local bol.

  —Done. And bring some raka with you. I’ve heard that the raka from the Eastern District is the best. Sonea is very fond of it.

  —It is the best, Dorrien said proudly. All right, raka in exchange for wine. I’ll contact you again when I leave. I must go now.

  —Take care, my son.

  Rothen felt the familiar presence fade from his mind. He smiled as he reached the Magicians’ Quarters. Dorrien may be curious to meet Sonea, but what would she make of him? Chuckling, he started up the stairs to his room.

  “I feel better tonight,” Tayend told the ceiling of his cabin. “I told you I’d get used to it eventually.”

  Looking over the narrow passage to where his friend lay, Dannyl smiled. Tayend had dozed most of the day. It had been stiflingly hot, and the evening’s humidity made sleep impossible.

  “You didn’t have to suffer so long. Surely a day of seasickness would have been enough adventure for you.”

  Tayend glanced at Dannyl, his expression shameful. “Yes I did.”

  “You’re afraid of being Healed, aren’t you?”

  The scholar gave a quick nod, more like a shiver.

  “I’ve never encountered anyone who was, but I’ve heard of it happening before.” Dannyl frowned. “Can I ask why?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Dannyl nodded. Rising, he stretched as best he could. It seemed that all merchant ships had cramped living spaces—which was probably due to the small stature of their makers. Most ships that roamed the seas around the Allied Lands were built and sailed by the Vindo.

  It had taken two weeks to sail to Capia, and he had been heartily thankful to greet dry land again when he arrived. Lonmar’s capital city, Jebem, was four weeks’ journey from Capia, and Dannyl was already tired of his surroundings. To make things worse, there had been little wind in the last few days and the captain had informed him that the ship would be delayed as a result.

  “I’m going up for some air.”

  Tayend grunted a reply. Leaving the scholar, Dannyl started down the passage and entered the common room. Unlike the previous crew, this one kept quiet at night. They sat in pairs or on their own, some huddled in the bag-like beds they used. Walking past, Dannyl climbed the stairs to the door and pushed through to the deck.

  Heavy air greeted him. Though it was autumn in Kyralia, the weather had grown warmer as they travelled north. Walking along the deck, Dannyl nodded at the sailors on watch. They barely bothered to respond, some ignoring him completely.

  He missed the company of Jano. None of these sailors were at all interested in trying out their conversational or singing skills on him. He even missed the occasional mouthful of potent siyo.

  Lanterns kept the ship brightly lit. At night, from time to time, a sailor hung one from a pole and leaned out over the railing to inspect the hull of the ship. Once, Dannyl had asked what the man was looking for, but by the blank look he received he guessed the sailor was not familiar with his language.

  All was still tonight, and Dannyl was undisturbed as he leaned on the stern railing, watching the water ripple in the light. It was easy, at night, to imagine the shadow of a wave was a creature’s back sliding through the water. Occasionally over the last two weeks he had glimpsed fish leaping through the waves. A few days ago he had been exhilarated to see anyi swimming with the bow wave, some as large as a human. The spiny creatures had lifted their whiskered noses and uttered strange, haunting cries.

  Turning away, he started along the rail, then stopped as he saw that several short lengths of thick black rope were strewn across his path. He frowned, thinking how easily he could have tripped.

  Then one of the ropes moved.

  Taking a step back, he stared at the thing. It was too smooth to be rope. And why would a rope be cut into short pieces, anyway? Each length of blackness glimmered slimily in the lantern light.

  One turned and started creeping toward him.

  “Eyoma!”

  The warning cry echoed in the night, and was repeated all around. Dannyl looked around
at the sailors in disbelief. “I thought they were a joke,” he muttered as he backed away from the creatures. “They were supposed to be a joke.”

  “Eyoma!” A sailor hurried toward him, a large pan in one hand, a paddle in the other. “Sea leech. You be away from rail!”

  Turning around, Dannyl realized that more of the creatures were behind him. They were climbing onto the deck from all sides. He started toward the middle of the ship, then dodged as one of them made a small leap toward him. Another raised its front half up as if sniffing the air, but he could see no nose—just a pale, round mouth ringed by sharp-looking teeth.

  Stepping past him, the sailor swung the pan he was carrying. Liquid spilled out, splashing over the creatures and the deck. A familiar, nutty odor reached Dannyl’s nostrils, and he looked at the sailor questioningly.

  “Siyo?”

  The creatures seemed as appalled by their dousing as Dannyl would have been. As they began to writhe, the sailor pushed them over the edge of the ship with the paddle. Small splashes followed.

  Two more sailors joined the first. They took it in turns to refill their pans from an open barrel lashed to the ship, splash the leeches and sweep them from the deck. It was done with such matter-of-fact efficiency that Dannyl began to relax. When one of the crew accidentally doused another with the liquor, he choked back a laugh.

  But the black creatures kept coming, flowing over the deck in greater numbers until it seemed like the night was eating away at the edge of the ship. One of the sailors swore and glanced down. A leech had attached itself to his ankle. It wrapped its body about the sailor’s leg with alarming speed. Still swearing, he splashed it with siyo, then, as it let go and began to writhe, he kicked it off the deck.

  Sobering, Dannyl moved forward, determined to help. As one of the sailors stepped forward to push the creatures away, Dannyl caught his arm and halted him. Gesturing toward the leeches, Dannyl focused his will and pushed. The leeches scattered off the deck and splashed into the sea.

  He met the sailor’s eyes, and the man nodded once.

  “Why the siyo?” Dannyl asked as the man brought another pan. “Why not just push them off?”

  “Not siyo,” the man said, discarding the paddle. “Yomi. Left from making siyo. Burns eyoma and stop coming back.”

  The sailor continued to splash the liquid down and Dannyl kept pushing the creatures off. Then the ship shifted strangely in the water, listing slightly to one side, and the sailor cursed.

  “What’s happening?”

  The man looked pale. “Too many eyoma. If big swarm, ship be made heavy. If swarm on one side mostly, ship turn over.”

  Glancing around, Dannyl saw that the captain and more than half of the crew had gathered on the low side of the ship, where the deck was black with the leeches. Thinking of Jano’s story, he realized the danger the crew faced. If the ship capsized and they fell into the water, they would not survive long.

  “How do you stop them?” he asked, shoving more of the creatures back into the sea.

  “Not easy.” The sailor hurried away to draw more liquid from the barrel, then returned to Dannyl’s side. “Hard to get yomi on hull.”

  The ship listed farther. Dannyl picked up the paddle the man had discarded and handed it back. “I’m going to see if I can help.”

  The sailor nodded. Striding down the deck, Dannyl found his way blocked by scattered sea leeches that had evaded the sailors. He saw black shadows wriggling along ropes, in corners and on the railing. Raising a magical barrier about himself, he walked past them, flinching as they leapt at him. A slight sizzle followed as they met the barrier and fell away. Satisfied, he continued on.

  Before he had reached the captain, a familiar voice called from the door to the common room.

  “What’s happening?”

  Seeing Tayend peering out, Dannyl felt a stab of alarm. “Stay downstairs.”

  A leech dropped from a rope and landed near the door. Tayend stared at it in horrified fascination. “Another one.”

  “Close the door!” Dannyl focused his will and the door slammed shut. At once it flew open again. Tayend leapt out.

  “They’re in here, too!” he cried. Dodging the leech near the door, he hurried to Dannyl’s side. “What are they?”

  “Eyoma. Sea leeches.”

  “But…you said they were a joke!”

  “Obviously, they’re not.”

  “What’s the captain doing?” Tayend asked, his eyes widening further.

  Looking up, Dannyl caught his breath as the captain strode into the thick blanket of leeches covering the port deck. The man ignored the creatures that wound up his legs. He held the end of a hose in one hand. The other end was attached to a barrel. Leaning over the railing, the captain aimed the hose at the hull and barked an order. A crewman began turning a handle set into the barrel. Soon liquid was spurting out of the hose in the captain’s hands.

  Though crewmen splashed yomi at the captain’s legs, more leeches quickly replaced those that fell away. Within a few minutes the captain’s legs were streaked with blood from the eyoma bites. Dannyl started toward the scene, Tayend following.

  “Stay here,” he told the scholar.

  Looking at the leeches covering the deck between him and the captain, Dannyl hesitated. He took a deep breath, then waded into the slimy blackness. Sizzling surrounded him as they met his shield. He felt the creatures burst as they were crushed beneath his boots.

  Reaching the captain’s side, Dannyl touched a leech that had climbed to the man’s shoulders. It fell away, leaving a circle of small puncture marks. The man turned to stare at Dannyl, then nodded gratefully.

  “Go back,” Dannyl ordered.

  The man shook his head, but not in refusal. “No kill too many or ship go over other way.”

  “I understand,” Dannyl replied.

  The ship was listing alarmingly now. Leaning over the railing, Dannyl considered the hull. It was almost invisible, only the occasional ripple of light showing in the darkness. Creating a globe light, he sent it down to illuminate the creatures. He caught his breath. The hull was a wriggling mass of leeches.

  Gathering power, he released it in a spray of stunstrikes. A shower of leeches fell back into the sea. They would probably survive the stunstrike, but he did not want to risk using forcestrike or firestrike on the hull. As more leeches fell away the ship slowly righted itself, then began to tilt toward the other side.

  Crossing the deck, Dannyl leaned over the railing on the other side. Once more he forced the leeches to loose their hold, and the ship straightened again. As he made his way back to the port side, Dannyl noted that the sailors had turned their efforts to cleaning leeches off the deck. One man was roaming about dealing with the ones that had curled around ropes or slipped into cracks or corners.

  The sense of danger had passed, but the grim work continued endlessly as the leeches kept climbing onto the ship. Soon Dannyl lost count of the times he had crossed the deck. He refreshed himself with Healing magic, but as the hours passed his head began to ache from the constant mental exertion.

  At last the onslaught lessened and dwindled, and only a few sluggish leeches remained. Hearing his name called, he straightened and turned to see that all was lit by the faint light of dawn. A small crowd had gathered around him. The captain raised his arm, then a cheer rose among the sailors.

  Surprised, Dannyl smiled, then joined in the cheering. He felt exhaused, but also elated.

  From somewhere a small barrel was produced, and a mug was passed from sailor to sailor. As Dannyl accepted the mug, he smelled the familiar tang of real siyo. The mouthful sent warmth spreading through him. He looked around for Tayend, but the scholar was nowhere in sight.

  “Your friend sleeps,” one of the sailors said.

  Relieved, Dannyl accepted another mouthful of siyo. “Do you encounter eyoma often?”

  “Now and then,” the captain said, nodding. “Not like this.”

  “Never seen swa
rm so big,” another sailor agreed. “Good that you passenger. If not with us, we be fish bait today.”

  The captain looked up suddenly and said something in Vindo. As the crew moved to the ropes, Dannyl realized that a mild wind had risen. The captain looked exhausted, but pleased.

  “You get sleep now,” he suggested to Dannyl. “Helped us good. May need help tonight.”

  Nodding, Dannyl made his way to his cabin. He found Tayend asleep, a frown creasing the scholar’s forehead. He paused, concerned to see dark circles under the young man’s eyes. He wished that he could heal his friend, then considered administering a little Healing power while Tayend was asleep.

  But to do so would be a betrayal of trust, and Dannyl did not want to risk ruining this new friendship. Sighing, he lay down on his own bed, closed his eyes and gave in to exhaustion.

  11

  Unwelcome Arrivals

  Sweet juice filled Sonea’s mouth as her teeth broke through the skin of the pachi. She held the yellow fruit between her teeth and turned the pages of Poril’s book until she found the right diagram.

  “There it is,” she said after taking the fruit out of her mouth again. “The blood system. Lady Kinla said we had to memorize all the different parts.”

  Poril looked down at the page and groaned.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “We’ll work out some way to help you remember. Rothen has shown me some really useful exercises for remembering lists.”

  Seeing his doubtful expression, Sonea smothered a sigh. She had quickly discovered why Poril was having trouble with his studies. He was neither smart nor strong, and tests sent him into fits of terror. Worst of all, he was so demoralized by this that he had given up trying.

  But he was also hungry for companionship. Though she had not seen the other novices being deliberately cruel to the boy, they obviously didn’t like him. He was from House Heril, which was out of favor in court for reasons she had not yet discovered. She didn’t think that was why he was avoided, however. He had several irritating habits, the worst being a ridiculous, high-pitched laugh that set her teeth on edge.