"You did not expect to see her, did you?" she said softly. "Does it disturb you, to see your lost love kill another?"
He stared at her, suddenly uncomfortable. "How did you know that?"
She smiled. "It is in your face, when you see her or talk of her."
He looked down at the room. An image of Sonea leaping at the woman flashed through his mind. Her face had been set with determination. She really had come a long way from the uncertain girl who had been so dismayed to discover she had magical abilities.
Then he remembered how the expression on her face had changed when Akkarin had brushed something out of her hair.
"It was a childhood crush," he told Savara. "I've known for a long time that she's not for me."
"No, you have not," she said, setting the roof creaking as she shifted her weight. "You only learned that tonight."
He turned back to face her. "How can you—"
To his surprise, she had edged closer. As he turned to face her she put a hand behind his head, pulled him nearer and kissed him.
Her lips were warm and strong. He felt heat rush through his body. Reaching out, he tried to pull her closer, but the piece of wood he was sitting on slid sideways and he felt himself losing his balance. Their lips parted as he began to fall backward.
Something steadied him. He recognized the touch of magic. Savara smiled mischievously, leaned forward and grabbed his shirt. She dropped her shoulder to the roof and pulled him over her, and the supports creaked alarmingly as they rolled farther away from the damaged area. When they stopped, she was lying on top of him. She smiled—the breathtakingly sensual smile that always set his pulse racing.
"Well," he said. "This is nice."
She laughed quietly, then bent to kiss him again. He hesitated only a moment, as a feeling, like a premonition, touched the edge of his thoughts.
The day Sonea discovered her magic, she belonged somewhere else. Savara has magic, too. And she already belongs somewhere else ...
But right now, he didn't care.
Lorlen frowned and blinked open his eyes. His bedroom was mostly dark. The light of the full moon set his window screens glowing faintly, making the gold Guild symbols appear as stark black shapes on the fine paper.
Then he realized why he was awake. Someone was hammering on his door.
What time is it? Sitting up, he massaged his eyes in an attempt to rub away sleepiness. The hammering continued. He sighed, rose and staggered out of his bedroom to the main door of his rooms.
Lord Osen stood outside, looking dishevelled and frantic.
"Administrator," he whispered. "Lord Jolen and his family have been murdered."
Lorlen stared at his assistant. Lord Jolen. One of the Healers. A young man, recently married. Murdered?
"Lord Balkan has sent for the Higher Magicians," Osen said urgently. "You're to meet in the Day Room. Would you like me to go back, while you get dressed, and tell them you're on your way?"
Lorlen glanced down at his bed clothes. "Of course."
Osen nodded, then hurried away. Lorlen closed the door and walked back into his bedroom. He took down a set of blue robes from his cupboard and began to change.
Jolen was dead. So was his family. Murdered, according to Osen. Lorlen frowned as his mind began to fill with questions. How was this possible? Magicians were not easy to kill. The murderer was either knowledgeable and clever, or another magician. Or worse, he thought. A black magician.
He looked down at his ring as dreadful possibilities began to form in his mind.
No, he told himself. Wait until you've heard the details.
He tied the sash of his robe about his waist, then hurried out of his room. Once outside the Magicians' Quarters, he strode across the courtyard to the building called The Seven Arches. The leftmost room of this building was the Night Room, where the weekly social gathering of magicians was held. The room at the center was the Banquet Room. On the right side of the building was the Day Room, a place created for receiving and entertaining important guests.
As Lorlen entered he blinked at the sudden brightness. The Night Room was all dark blue and silver but, in contrast, the Day Room was decorated in shades of white and gold, now lit by several globe lights. The effect was harsh.
Seven men stood in the center of the room. Lord Balkan and Lord Sarrin nodded to Lorlen. Director Jerrik was talking to the two Heads of Studies, Peakin and Telano. Lord Osen was standing next to the only man not wearing robes.
As Lorlen recognized Captain Barran, his heart sank. A magician was dead, and the captain investigating the strange murders was here. Perhaps the situation was as bad as he feared.
Balkan stepped forward to greet him. "Administrator."
"Lord Balkan," Lorlen replied. "I guess you'll want me to hold my questions until Lady Vinara, Administrator Kito and the High Lord arrive."
Balkan hesitated. "Yes. But I have not summoned the High Lord. My reasons will be explained soon."
Lorlen endeavored to look surprised.
"Not Akkarin?"
"Not yet."
They turned as the door opened. A Vindo magician entered. Kito's role as Expatriate Administrator kept him outside of the Guild and Kyralia most of the time. He had returned from Vin only a few days ago to deal with the rogue magician Dannyl was bringing for trial.
Lorlen remembered Akkarin's prediction: The Guild will lose interest in the murderer once Ambassador Dannyl arrives with the rogue, Lorlen.
If this is as bad as I fear, Lorlen thought, I think the situation will be quite the opposite.
As Balkan greeted Kito, Captain Barran approached Lorlen. The young guard managed a grim smile.
"Good evening, Administrator. This is the first time the Guild has brought my attention to a murder, instead of the other way around."
"Really?" Lorlen replied. "Who informed you?"
"Lord Balkan. It seems Lord Jolen managed to communicate with him briefly before he died."
Lorlen's heart skipped. Did Balkan know who the murderer was, then? As he turned to regard the Warrior, the door of the Day Room opened again and Lady Vinara stalked into the room.
She looked around at the faces, noting who was present, then nodded to herself. "You're all here. Good. I think, perhaps, we should be seated. We have a serious and shocking situation to deal with."
Chairs at the sides of the room floated to the center. Captain Barran's expression was a mixture of fascination and awe as he watched the chairs arrange themselves into a circle. Once everyone was seated, Vinara looked at Balkan.
"I think Lord Balkan should begin," she said, "as he was the first to be alerted to the murders."
Balkan nodded in agreement. He looked around the circle. "Two hours ago my attention was caught by a mental call from Lord Jolen. It was very faint, but I heard my name and detected great fear. When I concentrated on it, however, all I caught was the identity of the caller, and the sense that he was being harmed by another—with magic—before the communication ended abruptly. I attempted to call Lord Jolen, but received no answer.
"I informed Lady Vinara of the communication, and she told me Lord Jolen was staying with his family in the city. She could not contact him either, so I decided to visit the family home. When I arrived, no servant came to open the door. I unlocked it, and found a terrible scene inside."
Balkan's expression darkened. "The entire household had been killed. I searched the house, discovering the bodies of Jolen's family and servants as I went. I investigated the victims, but could find nothing more than scratches and braises. Then I found Jolen's body."
He paused, then Lord Telano made a noise of confusion.
"His body? How can it still be whole? Did he exhaust himself?"
Vinara, Lorlen saw, was staring at the floor, shaking her head.
"I then called to Vinara, to ask her to come and examine the victims," Balkan continued. "After she arrived, I hurried
to the Guard House to see if they had received any report
s of strange activity in the area. Captain Barran was there, having just interviewed a witness." Balkan paused. "Captain, I think you should relate her tale to us."
The young guard glanced around the circle, then cleared his throat.
"Yes, my lords—and lady." He folded his hands together. "With the increase in murders taking place, I have interviewed many witnesses lately, but few have seen anything useful. Some people come in the hope that something they have seen—say, a stranger walking about their street at night—might be relevant. This woman's story was much the same, but there was one striking element to it.
"She had been walking home late after delivering fruit and vegetables to one of the houses in the Inner Circle. Part way home, she heard screams inside a house—the residence of Lord Jolen's family. She decided to hurry on, but as she reached the next house, she heard a noise behind her. She was frightened and stepped into the shadows of a doorway. Looking back, she saw a man emerge from the servants' entrance of the house she had just passed."
Barran paused and looked around the circle. "She said this man wore magicians' robes. Black magicians' robes."
The Higher Magicians frowned and exchanged glances. All except Balkan and Osen looked doubtful, Lorlen noted. Vinara did not look surprised. ,
"Was she sure they were black?" Sarrin asked. "Any color may look black in the darkness."
Barran nodded. "I asked her the same question. She was sure of it. He walked past the doorway she was hiding in. She described black robes, with an incal on the sleeve."
Expressions changed from skepticism to alarm. Lorlen stared at Barran. He could hardly breathe.
"Surely n—" Sarrin began, but fell silent as Balkan gestured for him to wait.
"Go on, Captain," Balkan said quietly, "tell them the rest."
Barran nodded. "She said his hands were covered in blood, and he was carrying a knife. She described it well. A curved blade, with gemstones set into the handle."
A long pause followed, then Sarrin drew in a deep breath. "How reliable is this witness? Can you bring her here?"
Barran shrugged. "I took her name and noted the workplace on her token. To tell the truth, I did not begin to give her story any credit until I heard what Lord Balkan had discovered in the house. Now I wish I had asked her more questions, or kept her at the Guard House longer."
Balkan nodded. "She will be found again. Now," he turned to Vinara, "perhaps it is time to hear what Lady Vinara has discovered."
The Healer straightened. "Yes, I fear it is. Lord Jolen was living with his family so that he could tend to his sister, who was having a difficult pregnancy. I investigated his body first and I made two disturbing discoveries. The first . . ." she reached into her robe and pulled out a scrap of black cloth embroidered with gold thread, "was this, clutched in his right hand."
As she held it up Lorlen went completely cold. The embroidery formed part of a symbol that was all too familiar to him: the incal of the High Lord. Vinara's eyes flickered to his and she frowned with concern and sympathy.
"What was the second discovery?" Balkan asked, his voice low.
Vinara hesitated, then drew in a deep breath. "The reason Lord Jolen's body still exists is because it was completely drained of energy. The only wound on his body was a shallow cut down one side of his neck. The other bodies bore the same indicators. I was taught to recognize these indicators by my predecessor." She paused and looked around the circle. "Lord Jolen, his family and their servants, were killed with black magic."
Gasps and exclamations followed, then a long silence as the implications began to sink in. Lorlen could almost hear them thinking about Akkarin's strength, and weighing the chances of the Guild defeating him in battle. He saw fear and panic in their faces.
He felt strangely calm and . . . relieved. For over two years he had been burdened with the secret of Akkarin's crime. Now, for better or worse, the Guild had discovered
that secret for itself. He looked around at the Higher Magicians. Should he admit to having known of Akkarin's crime? Not unless I have to, he thought.
Then what should he do? The Guild was no stronger, and Akkarin—if he was guilty of this crime—was certainly no weaker. He felt a familiar fear chase away his relief.
To protect the Guild, I should do anything I can to prevent a confrontation between it and Akkarin. But if Akkarin did this . . . No, he may not have. I know other black magicians have been killing Kyralians.
"What do we do?" Telano asked in a small voice.
All turned to regard Balkan. Lorlen felt the tiniest stirring of indignation at that. Wasn't he the Guild's leader, in lieu of Akkarin? Then Balkan looked at him expectantly, and he felt a wry regret as the familiar weight of his position settled over him.
"What do you suggest, Administrator? You know him best."
Lorlen forced himself to sit a little straighter. He had rehearsed what he would tell them in this situation so many times.
"We must be cautious," he warned. "If Akkarin is the murderer, he will be even stronger now. I suggest we consider this very carefully before confronting him."
"How strong is he?" Telano asked.
"He easily overcame twenty of our strongest magicians when we tested him for the position of High Lord," Balkan replied. "With black magic, there is no way to tell how strong a magician is."
"How long has he been practicing it, I wonder?" Vinara said darkly. She looked at Lorlen. "Have you ever noticed anything odd about Akkarin, Administrator?"
Lorlen did not have to pretend to be amused by the question. "Odd? Akkarin? He's always been mysterious and secretive, even to me."
"He could have been practicing for years," Sarrin muttered. "How strong does that make him?"
"What bothers me is how he came by the knowledge," Kito added quietly. "Did he learn it during his travels?"
Lorlen sighed as they began discussing all the possibilities he had considered since discovering the truth for himself. He gave them some time, then, just as he was considering interrupting, Balkan spoke up.
"For now, it does not matter how or where he learned black magic. What matters is whether we can defeat him in a confrontation."
Lorlen nodded. "I have doubts about our chances. I think, perhaps, we should keep this to ourselves—"
"Are you suggesting we ignore this?" Peakin exclaimed. "Leave a black magician at the head of our Guild?"
"No." Lorlen shook his head. "But we need time to consider how we may remove him safely if, indeed, he is the murderer."
"We're not getting any stronger," Vinara pointed out. "He is."
"Lorlen is right. Careful planning is essential," Balkan replied. "I was taught by my predecessor the means by which a black magician may be fought. It is not easy, but neither is it impossible."
Lorlen felt a stirring of interest and hope. If only he had been able to consult with the Warrior before Akkarin had discovered Lorlen knew his secret. Perhaps they had a chance of removing Akkarin after all.
He caught himself, then. Did he really want Akkarin dead? But what if he did kill Jolen and his household? Doesn't he deserve to be punished for that?
Yes, but we had better be sure it was him.
"We should also consider that he may not be the killer," Lorlen said. He looked at Balkan. "We have the account of a witness and a scrap of cloth. Could another magician have dressed as Akkarin? Could he have put that scrap of material in Jolen's hand?" Something occurred to Lorlen, then. "Let me see it again."
Vinara handed him the scrap. Lorlen nodded as he examined it. "Look, it has been cut off, not torn. If Jolen had been able to do this, he must have had a blade of some sort. Why didn't he simply stab his attacker instead? And it is strange, don't you think, that the killer didn't notice his sleeve had
been cut? A clever murderer would not leave behind such evidence—or wander out into the street carrying the weapon he used."
"So you think it might have been another Guild magician, trying to convince us that Akkar
in is guilty of his crimes?" Vinara asked, frowning. "I suppose it is possible."
"Or a magician not of the Guild," Lorlen added. "If Dan-nyl can find a rogue in Elyne, it is possible that others exist."
"We've seen no other evidence of a rogue magician in Kyralia," Sarrin protested. "And rogues tend to be untrained and ignorant. How would a rogue learn black magic?"
Lorlen shrugged. "How would any magician learn black magic? In secret, obviously. We might not like the idea, but whether the killer is Akkarin or someone else, he learned black magic somehow."
The others paused to consider this.
"So perhaps Akkarin isn't the killer," Sarrin said. "If he isn't, he knows we must investigate in the usual fashion, and will cooperate with us."
"But if he is, he may turn on us," Peakin added.
"So what should we do?"
Balkan rose and began pacing. "Sarrin is right. If he is innocent, he will cooperate. If he is guilty, however, then I believe we should act now. The number of deaths that have occurred tonight, with no effort to hide the evidence, has the appearance of the preparations of a black magician who is planning for a fight. We must confront him now, or we may leave it too late."
Lorlen's heart skipped. "But you said you needed time to plan."
Balkan smiled grimly. "I said that careful planning makes all the difference. It is part of my duties as Head of Warriors to ensure we are always ready to face such a danger. The key to success, according to my predecessor, is to catch the enemy by surprise, when he is isolated from his allies. My servant has informed me that only three people remain within the High Lord's Residence at night. Akkarin, his servant, and Sonea."
"Sonea!" Vinara exclaimed. "What is her role in this?"
"She dislikes him," Osen said. "I would even say she hates him."
Lorlen looked at his assistant in surprise.
"How so?" Vinara asked.
Osen shrugged. "An observation I made when she became his favorite. Even now, she doesn't like to be in his company."
Vinara looked thoughtful. "I wonder if she knows anything. She could be a valuable witness."
"And ally," Balkan added. "So long as he doesn't kill her for her strength."
Black Magician 03 - The High Lord Page 19
