Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  Tyen opened his mouth to tell them that Vella did not need to be opened to read their minds, then thought better of it. They seemed too suspicious of her, and at any rate the damage – if any – was already done. Kilraker, Delly and Ophen had already touched her.

  The Director looked up at Tyen. “You have examined it several times since you found it. What did you learn?”

  “She is over a thousand years old and from another world. She was created from a person – a woman – and is only conscious when touched by a living human. Her purpose was to collect and spread information. Ask her a question and she will answer it to the best of her knowledge – and she can only tell the truth.”

  “Ingenious,” Kilraker breathed, then he turned to look at Tyen with narrowed eyes. “And you didn’t think she was valuable enough to hand over to the Academy?”

  Tyen winced. “Not at first.”

  “At what point did you realise she was valuable?”

  “When I … Though actually…” Tyen sighed. “At the same time that I realised she wasn’t ready for the Academy.”

  The Director leaned back and crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

  Tyen met the man’s gaze. “She had been locked away in that tomb for six hundred years, so her store of information was out of date. Some of the ideas she had needed disproving.”

  “Such as?”

  Taking a deep breath, Tyen forced himself to tell them what they would discover soon anyway. “Such as the belief that creativity generates magic.”

  Professor Delly chuckled. “Hard to disprove, when nobody has yet proven where magic comes from.”

  Hapen’s expression was serious. “If she – if it contains such superstitions and is so out of date, why would you trust the rest of the information contained within?” he asked.

  “I didn’t. Not until I had checked it against other sources,” Tyen explained. “Not all of her knowledge is incorrect. Just as a great deal of our knowledge is built on the wisdom of the past, so is hers. Just as we are constantly reassessing our knowledge, so is she. Like the Academy library, she is only as useful as the information stored inside her, but because she is more portable it is easier to expand that store and … and perhaps educate people beyond the Academy walls.”

  “Because sharing our secrets with the rest of the world would be of great benefit to all,” Ophen said, his scowl and tone suggesting otherwise.

  “We need only take care that we do not fill it with our secrets,” Kilraker said in a low voice.

  This time Tyen did wince. He should tell them that Vella had already read their minds, but still he hesitated. They will find out as soon as anyone reads her. Though if they don’t know she can then perhaps nobody has tried yet. Perhaps they all have secrets they fear will be revealed. Perhaps if I offer to do it for them – yes! That way he could continue to talk to her, and the Academy would have the benefit of using her for her true purpose.

  “You don’t have to read her yourself to use her,” he told them. “Roporien used to have someone else do it for him.”

  Five heads turned to stare at him and he cursed silently as he realised his mistake.

  “Roporien,” Delly gasped, his eyes wide.

  “You didn’t say—” Kilraker began.

  “Well, who else could have made such a thing,” Hapen said. He gave a low laugh. “Out of a poor, innocent woman, too.”

  Director Ophen’s hands were now braced against the desk, as if to push himself as far back in his chair and away from Vella as possible. But his gaze was avid, as if he was both attracted and repelled.

  “How do you know that she must tell the truth?” he asked. His gaze lifted to Tyen. “Have you tested her?”

  “No. I haven’t had time to think of a method to do so, but so far I have not found an instance where she has lied to me. Even when doing so would have been in her best interests.”

  The Director slowly turned his head from side to side in a shudder of denial. “No,” he said. “No, no and no. It is too dangerous. If this got into the hands of the radicals…” He rose, picked Vella up and handed her to Delly. “Lock it away.”

  Tyen’s stomach swooped down to his knees. “But she’s only conscious when—”

  “But Director—” Kilraker said at the same time.

  “No,” Ophen said firmly, fixing first the professor then Tyen with a direct stare. “Nobody is to read it or even touch it without my permission.” Then his attention returned to Kilraker. “Or discuss the uses to which it could be put.”

  Delly carefully slipped the book into a pocket. “I will take it to the Librarian.”

  The Director nodded and sat down again. “Tell him to come and see me, once it is in the vault.” He looked up at Tyen. “As for you, I am satisfied that your intentions were good, but it is not up to you to judge when an artefact owned by the Academy is ready to be possessed by it. You should have delivered the book to us as soon as you arrived. No, in fact you should have given her to Kilraker as soon as you’d found her.”

  Tyen bowed his head. “You are right. I apologise.”

  The man exhaled, then waved a hand. “Kilraker can decide the appropriate punishment, since it was he who you should have deferred to. Now, with that sorted out, you may all go.”

  All four professors hesitated, as if they were not used to such a dismissal, then stepped away from the table and headed for the door. Tyen forced himself to follow. If Kilraker wasn’t willing to argue with the Director, then Tyen certainly would gain nothing but the man’s ire by lingering.

  I didn’t even get close to explaining Gowel’s theory and how we could use Vella to prove it, he thought. Maybe if I come back when he is in a better mood he’ll listen. Especially if I point out a way Vella could be used for the good of the Academy. And if I can get Kilraker to support me …

  As if hearing his name in Tyen’s thoughts, the professor turned around and smiled apologetically.

  “I’m afraid I will have to make sure you are seen to be appropriately disciplined,” he said.

  Tyen nodded. “I know,” he replied. But he doubted anything could be as awful as knowing he might have condemned Vella to oblivion for the rest of her existence.

  CHAPTER 9

  Three days later Tyen set out to find himself a job.

  It was the kind of crisp, sunny weather that made up for the more common miserable grey days of winter, but the sunshine did not cheer him. Inside one of his coat pockets was the page of the Reporter that listed jobs a young Academy student might apply for. In the other was Beetle, in case the opportunity arose to attract another commission.

  The entire employment section had been considerably smaller than he’d expected, but since he’d not had to seek a job in the city before he had no idea what size it ought to be. Professor Kilraker’s punishment had been to suspend Tyen’s lessons for the rest of the half-year. That meant Tyen would have to begin that half-year again to have any chancing of passing it.

  The other professors had accepted nothing less, Kilraker had told Tyen. Especially since Tyen had managed, somehow, to avoid direct censure from the Director. Some, Tyen knew, thought he ought to have been expelled for “stealing” treasure rightly belonging to the Academy. Clearly they did not know how common it was. It had been tempting, so very tempting, to reveal Miko’s theft of the poible. After all, Miko’s crime had been worse – he’d actually stolen and sold a treasure.

  But it wouldn’t have gained Tyen anything but petty revenge, and it would have lost him a friendship. Though he had to admit he did not find Miko’s company as comfortable as he had before. Every morning, Miko slipped out of their room early and looked alternately guilty or defiant whenever they were both there and awake. As much as Tyen told himself Miko had broken his promise because he was concerned about Vella’s influence, he did not feel he could completely trust his friend now.

  He wished he could discuss it with Vella, then cursed under his breath. None of the professors would even talk
to him about her and the Director had ignored all requests for a meeting. At least it doesn’t matter if it takes me a few weeks or months – or even years – to get her out of the vault. She won’t be aware of the time passing.

  Tyen could not yet see how he would free her, but he was determined to do it. As his father had always advised, he’d broken the task down into smaller ones. He needed to persuade the Academy to let him use Vella. To do that he’d need to convince the Director it was both safe and beneficial to do so. The chances of having the Director’s ear would be better if Tyen had Kilraker’s support. To do that Tyen would have to restore his standing with the professor by being a first-rate student.

  Since that required remaining in the Academy, and his father had saved barely enough to send his only son there in the first place, the most pressing task for Tyen was to earn enough money to cover the extra half-year of rent, food and, since his Academy-sponsored trip to Mailand now wouldn’t count towards his scores, another expedition.

  And with his lessons suspended, it wasn’t as if he’d have much else to do between now and the end of the half-year.

  Turning a corner, Tyen found the street he was looking for. He took in the neat, evenly spaced buildings with their matching gold-painted signs and hesitated. Unfolding the job advertisement page, he located the address he sought. Grand & Pog Insurance Co. was at number 36. He was standing by number 2, belonging to Mill & Sons Finance and Investment Brokers. It became clear, as he walked along the street, that this was where Belton’s main accountancy, insurance and law firms were based. He doubted any of these respectable businesses would wish to employ a history and sorcery student when there were plenty of more suitably trained young men in the city.

  An hour later, proven right, he had almost reached the Academy when a man handing out pamphlets stepped forward and pressed one into Tyen’s hands.

  “On the back,” the man told him.

  Continuing on, Tyen looked down and felt a wave of nausea at the bold words shouting out from the page.

  “MAGIC IS RUNNING OUT!”

  His hand clenched, crumpling the paper, and he was about to throw it away when he remembered the pamphlet man’s words. Smoothing it out, he turned it over.

  “Meet me at the deloom.”

  Tyen’s heart sank. It had to be Gowel. The adventurer had said Tyen should leave a message at the deloom once a meeting with the Academy had been agreed upon. Tyen hadn’t had the heart to tell the man his chance of being heard had grown slimmer. Reaching the Academy gate, Tyen paused then kept walking. If it was Gowel waiting for him, he would give him the bad news. Tyen didn’t want to waste his time. Perhaps Gowel would be able to suggest a way to persuade the Academy to use Vella, too.

  When he reached the street where he’d found the deloom he realised he wasn’t entirely sure which it was, since last time the front had been shrouded in fog. It was only by peering inside that he recognised the place. It was crowded and very smoky and, once inside, it took him a few minutes to realise that Gowel wasn’t there.

  “Are you Tyen?” a voice asked.

  He turned to find one of the servers at his elbow.

  “Yes.”

  The man bowed slightly then gestured to an alcove. “Take a seat. He will be here soon. Can I get you something?”

  “Lall, please.” Moving over to the alcove, Tyen sat down. After a few minutes noting the people in the room while trying not to be obvious about it, he settled for examining the page of job advertisements, mentally crossing out those he now realised he was never going to get and reconsidering a few he’d judged too menial or beneath his standing. He only had to work until the start of the next half-year, after all.

  Before long he had read every word on the page, the lall had arrived and he had drunk it. He took Beetle out of his pocket but the insectoid attracted some alarmed looks from other patrons so he put it away again. Bored, he reluctantly brought out Gowel’s message. Some arrangement must have been made with the pamphlet man. He’d recognised Tyen. Unless the message had been written on the back of all the pamphlets.

  It was such a vague message it wouldn’t matter if the man gave it to the wrong student. He wondered how many other students went to a deloom today to see if they could spot who had sent the mysterious message, or assumed it was from a friend. He turned over the sheet of paper.

  “Citizens of Leratia be warned,” it read. “MAGIC IS RUNNING OUT! We are fast speeding towards a FUTURE without sorcery. Without HEALERS. Without a DEFENCE AGAINST INVADERS. Without MACHINES. The Society of Magical Preservation invites you to learn of this IMPENDING PERIL, and how it might be AVOIDED.” A date and place had been scrawled on the bottom of the sheet.

  The message might be a ploy to get people to keep the pamphlet, or leave it in a deloom when nobody turned up to meet them and perhaps lure other patrons to a meeting with the radicals. He sighed. And he had just fallen for …

  “Tyen Ironsmelter.”

  Tyen jumped and looked up to find Gowel standing at the edge of the table. “Ah! Gowel!” He glanced at the door of the deloom, sure that he hadn’t heard anybody enter, then turned the pamphlet over. “Did you send this?”

  “Yes.” The man removed his hat and sat down in the opposite seat. “Are you well?”

  Tyen shrugged. “Well enough.”

  “For a student suspended from lessons?” Gowel asked, his eyebrows rising briefly before his face relaxed into a grim smile. “I heard about it from some old Academy friends. I guess your meeting with the professors didn’t go as well as you hoped.”

  Tyen shook his head.

  “I am sorry to hear it. Their choice of punishment seems a little extreme. In my day, attempting to keep treasures was almost a hobby among Academy students. But maybe they’re trying to stamp that out by making an example of you. They kept the book?”

  “Yes. The Director locked her – it – away in the library, with orders that nobody is to open it.”

  “Now, that is a pity.”

  “Yes. I still hope to persuade them to listen to you, but there isn’t much point mentioning your idea until they trust Ve— the book.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Tyen shook his head. “Unless … unless you know of anyone who can give me a job.”

  The adventurer’s eyebrows rose. “Thinking of leaving the Academy?”

  “No. I need to pay the rent until I can start lessons again.”

  Gowel grimaced and shook his head. “There’s not much work about even for an honest young man like you. Sorcery won’t help you, since you’re not allowed to use it. The restrictions are forcing companies to move their factories to other cities and other lands, so the city is full of men of all kinds of skills seeking new employment. Do you have family?”

  “Only my father, in Tammen.”

  “Can you move in with him for a while?”

  “If I move out of the Academy I’ll lose my room and have to rent in the city when I start classes again.”

  “And pay double for the inconvenience.” Gowel sighed.

  Tyen nodded. “I need to stay here. Earning Kilraker’s approval is my best chance of regaining everyone’s respect and trust.”

  “And since he and I don’t get along so well now, being seen with me won’t help you,” Gowel said. “As much as I try to keep my distance from the Society of Magical Preservation, I have friendships there that I am not willing to sever and so I am tainted by association.”

  The admission made Tyen’s stomach sink. He’d not thought how meeting Gowel might spoil his chances of regaining Kilraker’s trust, and the man’s admission to links with radicals filled him with dismay.

  Gowel shrugged. “I will understand if you don’t want to meet me again. But … if you do, I may be able to enlist their help to retrieve the book.”

  Realising what Gowel was suggesting, Tyen stared at the man.

  “I am not recklessly suggesting we do this unless you have run out of options and are willi
ng to accept the consequences, of course,” Gowel added.

  Disbelief was replaced by temptation, but that was soon chased away by the thought of the punishment he’d face for such a crime. At best, theft from the Academy would have him expelled. At worse it would see him incarcerated.

  Then he remembered something that made him realise Gowel was teasing – or testing – him. “It’s in the library vault.”

  “That will be no obstacle.” Gowel smiled.

  Tyen raised his eyebrows, not bothering to hide his scepticism.

  “You don’t believe me.” The adventurer chuckled. “I can’t tell you how, of course, but be assured it can be arranged – on relatively short notice and at no risk to you. Of course, if my friends are going to be taking that risk they will want access to the book. Would you consent to that?”

  Access or ownership? Tyen wondered. But then, perhaps it would be better if Vella was used by the radicals than locked away in the Academy library.

  “I … guess so.”

  “Well, in my view, it would be better to find a solution that involved the co-operation of the Academy,” Gowel said. “And you will be more likely to succeed if you are not seen to associate with me. I will see what I can do about finding you a job. When I do, I will have the employer contact you directly. In the meantime, keep hunting for one so nobody thinks it odd when they do.”

  Tyen made himself nod and smile with a gratitude he didn’t quite feel. “Thank you.”

  “I can’t guarantee that it will involve magic.” Gowel sighed. He stood up. “I hope you weren’t planning on making a career out of sorcery. If only it were true, what the radicals believe. All we’d have to do is take up painting or something, and we’d have all the magic we’d need. A pleasure talking to you, young Ironsmelter.”

  Tyen rose. “And you, Gowel.”

  Feeling uneasy, Tyen watched the adventurer retrieve his hat from the stand and exit through the main deloom door, then he headed back to his room.

  All the way there and through the afternoon, Tyen could not shake the feeling of disquiet their conversation had generated. He tried to distract himself with work, finishing three insectoids and delivering them to their buyers. Having some extra money should have cheered him, but instead his thoughts kept returning to Gowel’s words. As soon as he returned from dinner, before Miko joined him, Tyen cleared a space on his desk, took out a notebook and pen, and wrote a list.