"Good afternoon, Captain," Lorlen said.
Barran bowed. "Administrator."
"Come into my office." Lorlen held the door open for Barran and Osen, then ushered his guest to a seat. Settling down behind his desk, he regarded the Captain soberly.
"So what brings you to the Guild? Not another murder, I hope."
"I'm afraid so. And not just one murder." Barran's voice was strained. "There has been what I can only call a massacre."
Lorlen felt his blood turn cold. "Go on."
"Fourteen victims, all killed in the same manner, found in Northside last night. Most were found on the street, a few in houses." Barran shook his head. "It's as if some madman roamed the slums, killing anyone he saw."
"Surely there'd be witnesses, in that case."
Barran shook his head. "Nothing useful. A few people said they thought they saw a woman, others said it was a man. None saw the killer's face. Too dark."
"And the manner of death?" Lorlen forced himself to ask.
"Shallow cuts. None that ought to have been fatal. No sign of poison. Fingerprints on the wounds. That is why I came to you. It is the only similarity to the previous cases we've discussed." He paused. "There is one other thing."
"Yes?"
"One of my investigators was told by the husband of a victim that stories were going around about a fight in a bolhouse last night. A fight between magicians."
Lorlen managed to look skeptical. "Magicians?"
"Yes. One apparently floated to the ground from a third-story window. I thought it was probably a fancy invented in the dark, except that the murders all occurred in a line pointing directly to this bolhouse. Or away from it."
"And did you investigate the bolhouse?"
"Yes. One of the rooms was smashed up quite badly, so something did happen there last night. Whether it was magic..." He shrugged. "Who can tell?"
"We can tell," Osen said.
Lorlen looked up at his assistant. Osen was right; someone from the Guild should examine the bolhouse. Akkarin will want me to do it, Lorlen thought.
"I would like to see this room."
Barran nodded. "I can take you there now. I have a Guard carriage waiting outside."
"I could go instead," Osen offered.
"No," Lorlen replied. "I will do it. I know more about these cases than you. Stay here and keep an eye on things."
"Other magicians may hear about this," Osen said. "They'll be concerned. What should I tell them?"
"Just that there has been another disturbing set of murders and that the bolhouse story is probably an exaggeration. We don't want people jumping to conclusions or causing a panic." He stood, and Barran followed suit.
"And if you do find evidence of magic?" Osen added.
"We'll deal with that if it happens."
Osen remained standing by the desk as Lorlen and Barran moved to the door. Looking back, Lorlen saw that his assistant was frowning with concern.
"Don't worry," Lorlen assured him. He managed a wry smile. "This is probably only as sinister as all the other murder cases."
Osen smiled thinly and nodded.
Closing the door to his office, Lorlen strode into the Entrance Hall, then out of the University doors.
- You should interview Captain Barran alone, my friend.
Lorlen glanced toward the High Lord's Residence.
- Osen is a sensible man.
- Sensible men can become quite irrational when their suspicions get the better of them.
- Should he be suspicious? What happened last night?
- A lot of drunk dwells witnessed the Thieves' failed attempt to catch a killer.
- Is that really what happened?
"Administrator?"
Lorlen blinked, then realized he was standing by the open door of the carriage. Barran was regarding him questioningly.
"Excuse me." Lorlen smiled. "Just consulting with a colleague."
Barran's eyes widened slightly as he realized what Lorlen meant. "Must be a handy skill, that."
"It is," Lorlen agreed. He stepped up into the carriage. "But it does have its limitations."
Or it ought to, he added silently.
Sonea's stomach fluttered as she entered the underground room; it had been doing this whenever she thought of the coming lesson in black magic - which had been every few minutes. Doubts had worked their way into her thoughts, and a few times she had almost decided to tell Akkarin she had changed her mind. But if she sat calmly and thought it through, her resolve remained strong. Learning it was a risk to herself, but the alternative was to put the Guild and Kyralia at greater risk.
As Akkarin turned to regard her, she bowed.
"Take a seat, Sonea."
"Yes, High Lord."
She sat down, then glanced at the table. It was covered in a strange collection of items: a bowl of water, a common plant in a small pot, a cage with a harrel nosing about within, small towels, books, and a polished and unadorned wooden box. Akkarin was reading one of the books.
"What is all this for?" she asked.
"Your training," he said, closing the book. "I have not taught another what I will teach you tonight. My own learning did not come with an explanation. I discovered more only when I found the old books that Lord Coren had reburied under the Guild."
She nodded. "How did you find them?"
"Coren knew that the magicians who originally buried the trunk had been right to preserve the knowledge of black magic in case the Guild faced a stronger enemy one day. But it was of no use to anyone if it could not be found again. He wrote a letter to the High Lord, to be delivered only after his death, explaining that he had buried a secret store of knowledge under the University that might save the Guild if it faced a terrible enemy." Akkarin glanced up at the ceiling. "I found the letter wedged in a record book when the library here was moved after the renovations I had done. Coren's instructions for finding this secret were so obscure none of my predecessors had had the patience to decipher them. Eventually the letter's existence was forgotten. I guessed what Coren's secret was, however."
"And you worked out the instructions?"
"No." Akkarin chuckled. "I spent every night for five months exploring the underground passages until I found the chest."
Sonea smiled. "Too bad if the Guild had faced a terrible enemy." She sobered. "Well, now it does."
Akkarin's expression became serious. He glanced down at the items on the table.
"Much of what I will tell you, you already know. You have been taught that all living things contain energy, and that each of us has a barrier at the skin protecting us from external magical influences. If we did not, a magician could kill you from a distance by, say, reaching into your body with his mind and crushing your heart. This barrier will allow certain kinds of magic to penetrate, such as Healing magic, but only via skin-to-skin contact."
He pushed himself away from the table and took a step closer. "If you break the skin, you break the barrier. Drawing energy through this gap can be slow. In Alchemy classes you will have learned that magic travels faster through water than air or stone. In Healing classes you have learned that the blood system reaches every part of the body. When you cut deep enough to draw blood, you can draw energy from all parts of the body quite rapidly.
"The skill of drawing is not a difficult one to learn," Akkarin continued. "I could explain it to you as it is described in these books, then leave you to experiment on animals, but it would take many days, even weeks, before you learned to draw with any control." He smiled. "And smuggling in all the animals could be more trouble than it's worth."
He sobered again. "But there is another reason. The night you observed me drawing power from Takan, you sensed something. I had read that, as with ordinary magic, the use of black magic can be sensed by other magicians, particularly those close by. As with ordinary magic, this effect can be hidden. I did not know I was detectable until I read your mind. Afterward I experimented until I was sure I was unde
tectable. I will need to teach you this quickly, to reduce the risk of discovery."
He looked up toward the ceiling. "I will guide you mentally, and we will use Takan as our first source. When he arrives, take care what you speak of. He does not want to learn these things, for reasons too complicated and personal to explain."
Muffled footsteps came from the stairwell, then the door opened and Takan stepped into the room. He bowed.
"You called, master?"
"It is time to teach Sonea black magic," Akkarin said.
Takan nodded. He moved to the table and opened the box. Inside, nestled in a bed of fine black cloth, lay the knife Akkarin had used to kill the Sachakan spy. Takan took it carefully, handling it with reverence.
Then, in a smooth, practiced movement, Takan placed the knife across his wrists and approached Sonea, his head bowed. Akkarin's eyes narrowed.
"Enough of that, Takan - and no kneeling." Akkarin shook his head. "We are a civilized people. We don't enslave others."
A faint smile played at Takan's mouth. He looked at Akkarin, his eyes bright. Akkarin snorted softly, then nodded at Sonea.
"This is a Sachakan blade, worn only by magicians," he said. "Their knives are forged and sharpened with magic. It is many centuries old and was passed down from father to son. Its last owner was Dakova. I would have left it behind, but Takan salvaged it and brought it with him. Take the knife, Sonea."
Sonea accepted the blade gingerly. How many people had been killed with this knife? Hundreds? Thousands? She shivered.
"Takan will be needing that chair, too."
She rose. Takan took her place, then began rolling up his sleeve.
"Make a shallow cut. Press lightly. It is very sharp."
She looked down at the servant and felt her mouth go dry. The servant smiled at her and lifted his arm. His skin was crisscrossed with scars. Like Akkarin's.
"See," Takan said. "Done this before."
The blade shook a little as she pressed it against Takan's skin. Lifting it away, she saw beads of red form along the cut. She swallowed hard. I'm really doing this. She looked up and found Akkarin watching her closely.
"You don't have to learn this, Sonea," he said, taking the blade from her.
She took a deep breath. "Yes I do," she replied. "What next?"
"Place your hand over the wound."
Takan was still smiling. She gently pressed her palm over the cut. Akkarin reached out and placed his hands on her temples.
- Focus as you once did when you learned Control. Visualization will help, to begin with. Show me the room of your mind.
She closed her eyes and drew up an image of the room and placed herself in it. The walls were covered in paintings of familiar faces and scenes, but she ignored them.
- Open the door to your power.
At once a painting stretched into a door shape and grew a handle. She reached for the handle and twisted. It swung outward and disappeared. An abyss of darkness spread before her, and within it hung the sphere of light that was her power.
- Now, step inside, into your power.
Sonea stilled. Step into the abyss?
- No, step into your power. Step into its center.
- But it's so far away! I can't reach that far.
- Of course you can. It's your power. It is as far away as you wish it to be, and you can step as far as you want to step.
- But what if it burns me?
- It won't. It's your power.
Sonea hovered at the edge of the doorway, then steeled herself and stepped through.
There was a feeling of stretching out, then the white sphere swelled and she felt a thrill rush through her as she entered it. Suddenly she was weightless, floating in a white mist of light. Energy rushed through her.
- See?
- I see. It's wonderful. Why didn't Rothen show me this?
- You will know why soon. I want you to expand yourself. Reach out and feel all of the power that is yours. Visualization is a useful tool, but you need to go beyond it now. You need to know your power with all your senses.
Sonea felt herself obeying before he had finished speaking. It was easy, when surrounded by nothing but whiteness, to stretch her senses out.
As she grew more aware of her power, a sense of her body came with it. At first she worried that becoming conscious of the physical meant she was losing her concentration.
Then the realization came that her power was her body. It didn't exist in some abyss within her mind. It flowed through every limb and bone and vein within her.
- Yes. Now focus on your right hand, and what lies beyond.
She did not see it at first, then something caught her attention. It was a gap, a glimpse of something beyond herself. Focusing on it, she sensed that an otherness lay beyond.
- Concentrate on that otherness, then do this.
He sent her a thought too strange for words. It was as if she stepped into Takan's body, except she was still within her own. She was conscious of both.
- Be aware of the energy within his body. Take some of it into your own.
Abruptly she realized that Takan held a great store of power. He was strong, she realized, almost as strong as she. Yet his mind did not seem to be connected to it, as if he was not conscious of the power within him.
But she was. And through the gap in his skin, she had a connection to it. It was easy to direct it out of his body and into hers. She felt herself grow a little stronger.
Understanding sprang into her mind. She was drawing power.
- Now stop.
She relaxed her will and felt the trickle of energy cease.
- Begin again.
She drew power through the gap, again. Just a slow leaking of magic. She wondered what it would be like to add all of his power to her own, and double her strength. Exhilarating, perhaps.
But what would she do with it? She certainly didn't need to be twice as strong. She didn't even use up her own strength during lessons at the University.
- Stop.
She obeyed. As Akkarin's hands slipped from her temples, she opened her eyes again.
"Good," he said. "You can heal Takan now."
Sonea looked down at Takan's arm, then concentrated. The cut healed quickly, and her awareness of his body and power faded away. The servant grimaced and her heart skipped.
"Are you all right?"
He smiled broadly. "Yes, Lady Sonea. You are very gentle. It's just that the Healing itches." He looked up at Akkarin and sobered. "She will be a worthy ally, master."
Akkarin didn't reply. Turning, Sonea saw that he had moved away to the cabinet of books and was standing with his arms crossed and a frown creasing his brow. Sensing her gaze, he turned to meet it. His expression was unreadable.
"Congratulations, Sonea," he said softly. "You are now a black magician."
She blinked in surprise. "That is all? It's that easy?"
He nodded. "Yes. The knowledge of how to kill in a moment, taught in a moment. From this day, you must never allow another into your mind. It would only take one stray thought for you to reveal this secret to another magician."
She looked down at the tiny bloodstain on her hand and felt a chill rush over her.
I have just used black magic, she thought. There is no turning back. Not now. Not ever.
Takan was regarding her closely. "Any regrets, Lady Sonea?"
She drew in a deep breath, then let it out. "Not as many as I would have if the Guild was destroyed and I could have prevented it. But I... I hope I will never have to use this." She smiled crookedly and looked at Akkarin. "That would mean the High Lord had died, and I only recently stopped wishing that that would happen."
Akkarin's eyebrows rose. Then Takan let out a bark of laughter.
"I like this one, master," he said. "You chose well when you took on her guardianship."
Akkarin snorted quietly and uncrossed his arms. "You know very well I didn't choose anything, Takan." He approached the table and reg
arded the items on it.
"Now, Sonea, I want you to examine each of these living things on the table and consider how the skill I have taught you may be applied to them. Then I have some more books for you to read."
12
The Price of Keeping Deadly Secrets
Rising from his bed, Rothen slid aside one of his window screens and sighed. A faint light brightened one side of the sky. Dawn was close, and he was wide awake already.
He looked at the High Lord's Residence lurking at the edge of the forest. Soon Sonea would rise and make her way to the Baths.
He had watched her closely over the last week. Though he hadn't seen her with Akkarin again, something in her manner had definitely changed.
There was a new confidence in the way she walked. At midbreak, she would sit in the garden and study, giving him an opportunity to watch her from the University windows. During the last week she had been easily distracted. She would often stop and look around at the Guild with a frown of concern or worry. Occasionally she would stare at nothing, her expression grim. At these times she looked so grown up he barely recognized her.
But it was when she gazed at the High Lord's Residence that she gave him the most reason to fear. There was such a thoughtful look on her face at these times, but it was what was lacking in her expression that scared him most. There was no dislike or fear in it.
He shivered. How could she regard Akkarin's house without showing at least some discomfort? She had before. Why not now?
Rothen drummed his fingers on the windowsill. For a year and a half he had obeyed Akkarin's order to stay away from Sonea. The only times he had spoken to her had been in situations where, because others were watching, it would have seemed strange if he didn't.
I've been cooperative for so long. Surely he won't harm her if I try to speak to her alone just once.
The sky was a little lighter now. The gardens were growing clearer. All he had to do was go down there and catch her on the way to the Baths.
He turned from the window and began to dress. Only when he reached his door did he pause and reconsider. A few questions, he thought. That's all. He probably won't even notice us.
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