"We can only hope there aren't watchers up there," he said.
He let her go, and strode back up the road. Sonea followed. When they had reached a point where the left-hand wall shadowed most of the right, he spun about and took hold of her shoulders.
Guessing what he was going to do, Sonea braced her legs. Sure enough, they began to rise upward, supported by a disk of magic below their feet. She made herself look away, suddenly too conscious of how close Akkarin was.
He stopped their ascent near the top so he could peer over the lip of the wall. Satisfied that the area was safe, he levitated them over the edge and set them down on the stony surface.
Sonea looked around in dismay. The slope was not as precipitous as the rock wall below, but it was still frighteningly steep. Cracks and jagged outcrops broke the surface, and in other places the ground was so smooth she could not see how they could walk across it without sliding off the moun-
tain. How could they navigate this, when all they had to light the way was the moon?
Akkarin started forward and began picking his way across the slope. Sonea drew in a deep breath, then followed. From then on, climbing over or around outcrops, leaping over crevasses and keeping her balance on the treacherous slope occupied her mind. She lost all sense of the time passing. It was easier to just follow Akkarin, and think only of making it past the next obstruction.
The moon had risen much higher in the sky, and she had Healed the weary muscles in her legs several times, when Akkarin finally stopped at the crest of a ridge. She assumed at first that he had encountered a particularly large crevasse or some other difficulty on the other side, but when she looked up at him, he was staring back over her shoulder.
Abruptly, he grabbed her arms and pulled her into a crouch. Her heart skipped.
"Keep low," he said urgently. He glanced behind. "We might be visible against the sky."
She squatted beside him, her pulse racing. He stared back the way they had come, then pointed back across the rugged slope they had crossed. She searched for something new. Finding nothing, she shook her head.
"Where?"
"He's behind that rock shaped like a mullook," he murmured. "Wait a moment. .. there."
She saw a movement perhaps five or six hundred paces away—a shifting shadow. It leapt and strode along the mountain slope with practiced surety.
"Who is he?"
"One of Kariko's allies, no doubt," Akkarin muttered.
An Ichani, Sonea thought. So soon. We can't face one yet. Akkarin's not strong enough. Her heart was beating too quickly and she felt ill with fear.
"We must move fast now," Akkarin said. "He is an hour behind us. We need to increase that distance."
Remaining in the crouch, he moved along the ridge to where a slab of rock overlapped another, leaving a narrow gap. Slipping through, he straightened and all but ran down
the other side of the ridge. Sonea hurried after, somehow keeping her balance despite the stones that shifted and rolled under her boots.
It took all her concentration to keep up with him now. He hurried around boulders, jogged across slopes slippery with rubble, and barely paused before leaping over gaps in their path. Every step tested Sonea's reflexes and balance.
When Akkarin stopped again, in the shadow of an enormous round boulder, she almost stumbled into him. Seeing that he was staring behind again, she turned to search for their pursuer. After a moment, she found him. The man was no farther away, she saw with dismay.
At least he is no closer, she told herself.
"Time to put him off our track," Akkarin murmured. He walked around the boulder. Sonea caught her breath as she saw the deep crevasse at their feet. It was about twenty strides across where they stood, but widened to form a huge ravine with sheer walls that descended into darkness.
"I will go to the left for about a quarter hour and then to the edge. He'll assume we descended into the ravine. You levitate to the other side, then make your way parallel to the mountains. Keep in the shadows as much as possible, even if it means slowing down."
She nodded. He turned away and stalked into the night. For a moment she felt a terrible fear of being left alone, but she took a deep breath and pushed it aside.
Standing up, she created a disk of magic and lifted herself into the air. As she moved over the crevasse, she looked down. It was very deep. She fixed her gaze on the other side and moved across. When her feet met solid ground again, she sighed with relief. She had never been afraid of heights, but the drop into the ravine made the tallest buildings in the city look like the steps of the University.
From there, she concentrated on navigating the craggy mountainside. Keeping to the shadows was remarkably easy. The moon was now directly above, but the slope of the mountain had cracked or eroded to form several giant steps. The nearest seemed to be the obvious one to follow, so she descended to the one below.
Keeping to the shadows meant it was harder to see, however. She nearly stumbled into a hole or crevasse more than once. After an endless stretch of leaping and jogging, she glanced up to see that the moon had nearly reached the peaks above.
She felt a stirring of fear again as she realized how much time had passed since Akkarin had left her. She considered what he had said he would do. A quarter hour down the left side of the ravine plus another quarter back to the boulder meant he was half an hour behind her. What if Akkarin had miscalculated? What if the pursuer had been only half an hour behind them, not an hour? Akkarin might have returned to the crevasse at the same time as the Ichani.
She found she had slowed down, and pushed herself onward again. Akkarin wasn't dead. If he'd been captured, he would have called to her, to warn her to keep running. But what if he'd tricked her into leaving him? Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. He wouldn't abandon you to the Ichani.
Unless . . . unless he had led the pursuer away, knowing that he would be caught and killed, to save her.
She stopped and looked behind. The terrain curved around the mountain, and she could not see far behind her. Sighing, she forced herself to continue on. Don't speculate, she thought. Concentrate.
The words repeated themselves in her mind and became a chant. After a while she found herself silently mouthing them. The rhythm carried her on, from one step to the next. Then she charged around an outcrop and found herself stepping out into an abyss.
Throwing her arms out, she managed to grab the outcrop, swing herself against it, and stop herself falling.
Her heart pounded as she pulled herself back from the brink. An enormous ravine blocked her path. Panting with fright and exertion, she stared at the opposite wall and tried to decide what she should do now. She could levitate across, but while she did she would be in plain sight.
The sound of hurried footsteps close behind her was all the warning she had. She started to turn, but something
slammed into her back and a hand clamped over her mouth to smother her scream. She fell forward, over the edge of the precipice.
Then magic surrounded her, and she felt her descent slow. At the same time she recognized a familiar scent.
Akkarin.
His arms held her tightly. They turned in the air and began to rise. The creased and cracked wall of the ravine rushed past, then a larger slash of blackness appeared. They moved into it.
Her feet met an uneven floor and, as Akkarin released her, she staggered and threw out her arms. A hand met a wall, and she managed to regain her balance. She felt lightheaded and giddy, and fought a strange urge to laugh.
"Give me your power."
Akkarin was a shadow in the darkness, and his voice held both urgency and command. She struggled to regain some control of her breathing.
"Now!" he said urgently. "The Ichani can sense it. Quickly."
She held her hands out. His fingers brushed against hers then wrapped around her hands. Closing her eyes, she sent out a steady stream of energy. As the significance of what Akkarin had said sank in, she quickened the
flow until power was rushing from her.
"Stop, Sonea."
She opened her eyes and a wave of exhaustion swept over her.
"You gave too much," he said. "You've tired yourself."
She yawned. "It's no use to me."
"No? How are you going to continue on now?" He sighed. "I could Heal you, I suppose, but... maybe we should stay here. If he had seen where we went, he would have followed us by now. And we haven't slept for days."
She shivered and looked up. "He was that close to me."
"Yes. I took a different path to yours and his, so I could watch him. I noticed how he followed you unerringly, but did not pick up my trail even when I crossed yours several
times. Then I got close enough to watch him and I realized from his behavior that he could sense you. So I looked closer, and found I could, too. You are unused to holding extra power, and were allowing a sense of it to slip past your control."
"Oh."
"Fortunately, I was able to catch up with you just as you reached this ravine. A moment more, and he would have found you."
"Oh."
"You shall sleep here, while I keep watch."
She sighed with relief. She had been bone-weary before she had given him all her strength. A tiny globe light appeared, revealing that the crack extended a little way into the rock wall. The base was filled with a jumble of large stones. Though Sonea wanted desperately to lie down and sleep, she regarded the floor with dismay.
Finding a relatively even area, she shifted a few of the rocks, filled in a few holes between them with smaller stones, then lay down. It was not very comfortable. She smiled wryly, remembering how she had once slept on the floor of Rothen's spare room so long ago, because she had been unused to soft beds.
Akkarin sat down near the entrance. As his globe light blinked out again, she wondered how she would ever sleep when she knew an Ichani was searching for her above.
But exhaustion blunted the rock's sharp edges and her fear, and her thoughts soon drifted away from all the concerns of the moment.
22
An Exchange of Views
From the outside, only the towers of the Palace were visible over the high round wall that surrounded it. As the Guild carriage turned onto the circular road ringing the wall, Lorlen looked up and felt a twinge of anxiety. It had been many years since he had entered the Palace. Matters between the King and the Guild were always dealt with by the High Lord. Though two magicians—the King's Advisors— attended the monarch on a daily basis, their role was to protect and counsel, not to receive or attend to orders regarding the Guild. Now, with Akkarin gone, the responsibilities of the High Lord fell to the Administrator.
As if I don't already have enough to do, Lorlen thought. The King had asked for all Higher Magicians to attend him today, however. Lorlen looked at the other occupants of the carriage.
While Lady Vinara looked calm, Lord Sarrin wore a frown of worry. Expatriate Administrator Kito was tapping the fingers of one hand against the other. Lorlen was unsure if this indicated nervousness or impatience. Not for the first time, he wished that Kito's duties didn't require him to be absent from the Guild so often. If he had known Kito better, he might have been able to read the man's mood from this little mannerism.
The carriage slowed, then turned toward the Palace entrance. The two enormous blackened iron gates swung inward, each guided by a pair of guards. Several more guards, standing on either side of the entrance, bowed as Lorlen's carriage entered a large enclosed courtyard.
Statues of previous kings stood proudly around the
courtyard. The carriages drew to a halt in front of the grand Palace doors. A guard stepped forward and bowed as Lorlen climbed out of the carriage.
Lorlen glanced at the second Guild carriage pulling up behind the first, then stepped forward to meet the greeter at the Palace doors. The task of the greeters was to welcome every visitor to the Palace with appropriate formality and later compose a report. Lorlen had been fascinated to learn, as a child, that the greeters had developed their own shortened form of writing to speed the process.
The man bowed gracefully.
"Administrator Lorlen. An honor to meet you." His alert eyes moved from magician to magician as he greeted each. "Welcome to the Palace."
"Thank you," Lorlen replied. "We have been summoned by the King."
"So I have been informed." The man was holding a small board in one hand. He drew a square of paper out of a slot in the side and made several quick marks on it with an ink stick. A boy standing nearby dashed forward, bowed, and took the slip of paper.
"Your guide," the greeter said. "He will take you to King Merin now."
The boy dashed to one of the huge Palace doors and hauled it open, then stepped aside. Lorlen led the other magicians into the Palace entrance hall.
The hall was based on the one in the University and was filled with fragile-looking spiral staircases. There were many more of them, however, and they were decorated with gold and illuminated by several hanging lamps. An elaborate clockwork timepiece clicked and whirred in the center of the room. They followed their young guide up a staircase to the second level.
A complicated journey followed. Their guide led them through large doorways and along wide corridors and halls. After a long climb up a narrow staircase, they arrived at an ordinary-sized door, blocked by two guards. The boy asked them to wait, then slipped past the guards. After a short
pause, he reappeared and announced that the King would see them.
As Lorlen stepped into the room beyond, his attention was immediately drawn to the tall, narrow windows. They gave a view of the entire city and beyond. He realized they were in one of the Palace towers. As he looked to the north, he almost expected to be able to see a dark line of mountains, but of course, the border was far beyond the horizon.
The King was sitting in a large, comfortable chair on the far side of the room. The King's Advisors stood on either side, their expressions watchful and serious. Lord Mirken was the older of the pair. Lord Rolden was closer to the King's age, and, Lorlen knew, was considered as much a friend as protector.
"Your Majesty," Lorlen said. He dropped to one knee, and heard the rustle of robes behind him as the other Higher Magicians followed suit.
"Administrator Lorlen," the King replied, "and Higher Magicians of the Guild. Be at ease."
Lorlen and the others rose.
"I wish to discuss the claims of the former High Lord with you and your colleagues," the King continued. His gaze shifted from one magician to another, then he frowned. "Where is Lord Balkan?"
"The Head of Warriors is at the Northern Fort, Your Majesty," Lorlen explained, "with the magicians who escorted Akkarin to the border."
"When will he return?"
"He intends to remain in case Akkarin attempts to return that way, or his story proves to be true and these Ichani he spoke of try to enter Kyralia."
The King's frown deepened. "I need him here, where I can consult with him." He hesitated. "My Advisors tell me you have given orders that all mental communication cease. Why is that?"
"Last night I heard the mental voice of a magician unknown to me." Lorlen felt a chill as he remembered. "He appeared to have been listening in to a conversation I was having with my assistant."
The King's eyes narrowed. "What did this stranger say?"
"I thanked Lord Osen for informing me that Akkarin and Sonea had entered Sachaka. The stranger repeated the thanks."
"That is all this stranger said?"
"Yes."
"You don't know if this stranger is Ichani, however." The King tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "But if the Ichani do exist, and have been listening to your conversations, they may have learned a great deal in the last few days."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"And if I order Lord Balkan home, they will hear of it. Will his Warriors be capable of defending the Fort against attack if he leaves them and returns?"
"I do
not know. I could ask him, but if his answer is no and he leaves, anyone listening will know the Fort is vulnerable."
The King nodded. "I understand. Speak to him. If he feels he cannot leave, then he must stay."
Lorlen sent out a mental call to Balkan. The response was immediate.
—Lorlen?
—If you return to Imardin, will your men be able to defend the Fort?"
—Yes. I have taught Lord Makin how to coordinate them against a black magician.
—Good. Come back immediately. The King wants your advice.
—I'll leave in an hour.
Lorlen nodded and looked at the King. "He is confident they can defend the Fort. He should arrive in two or three days."
The King nodded, satisfied. "Now, tell me about your investigations."
Lorlen clasped his hands behind his back. "In the last few days we have located a few merchants who visited Sachaka in the past, and one does remember the term 'Ichani.' He said it meant 'bandit' or 'robber.' Merchants and their pos-
sessions have been known to disappear in the wastes. It was assumed they had lost their way. That is all we know. We are sending three magicians into Sachaka to seek more information. They will leave in a few days."
"And what defensive preparations have you made in case Akkarin's story is true?"
Lorlen turned to regard his fellow magicians. "If what he says is true, and these Ichani are hundreds of times stronger than a single Guild magician, I don't know if there is anything we can do. There are over three hundred of us, if we include magicians living in other lands. Akkarin estimated there were ten to twenty Ichani. Even if there were only ten, we would have to increase our numbers more than threefold to meet a force that strong. Though there is magical potential in the underclasses, I doubt we would find seven hundred new magicians—and we certainly couldn't train them quickly enough."
The King had grown a little pale. "Is there no other way?"
Lorlen hesitated. "There is one way, but it has its own dangers."
The King gestured for Lorlen to continue.
Lorlen turned to look at Lord Sarrin. "The Head of Alchemists has been studying Akkarin's books. What he has learned has been both disturbing and enlightening."
Black Magician 03 - The High Lord Page 29
