Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  Tyen stepped back. “Is this a bad time, Professor…?”

  “No.” Kilraker shook his head. “I was just thinking about you, and here you are. What can I do for you at this time of night, Ironsmelter?”

  Tyen resisted the urge to look around and make the secret nature of his visit obvious. “Can we talk privately?”

  The professor hesitated, then opened the door wider. “Come in.” He moved to a small table flanked by two reed-woven chairs and sat down. A flask and glasses sat on a tray – one with a finger’s width of the dark liquor inside. “Dusky?”

  He was already pouring a second glass, so Tyen answered with a nod and a shrug. Sitting down in the other chair, he looked around. The professors’ suites were four times the size of the students’ shared rooms, with separate bed- and bathrooms. Their servants lived, along with the general domestic staff, in a different area of the Academy. Kilraker’s sitting room was filled with objects he had acquired on his various expeditions that were of no interest or value to the Academy. A few looked more precious, though. Tyen assumed those had been purchased by Kilraker from his own funds. It made for distracting surrounds, and each time Tyen dragged his eyes from one fascinating object he noticed another.

  “What is this matter you wish to discuss?” Kilraker prompted.

  Tyen tore his eyes away from a crudely made clay statue of a naked woman, her features highly exaggerated. “I ran into Gowel today. I thought you might want to know.”

  The professor’s eyes narrowed. “I had heard he was in the city. What did he say?”

  “He had heard that my lessons were suspended and was sympathetic.”

  Kilraker leaned back in his chair. “And?”

  “He had also heard about the book,” Tyen continued. “He said … and I don’t know if he was testing me or was in earnest … that he could help me steal it back.”

  A faint smile curled the professor’s lips. “He did, did he? That’s Gowel for you. Did you accept?”

  “I neither accepted nor refused. I was too shocked. Afterwards I was worried that he was not overstating his abilities.”

  “So you went to the library, and the Librarian took you to the vault to assure you how safe it was.”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you reassured?”

  “Mostly. Something he said—”

  A knock interrupted him. Kilraker’s gaze snapped to the door and a worried frown creased his forehead before he adopted a calm expression and rose to answer it. As the door opened, Tyen heard Drem’s voice.

  “Are you ready, Professor?”

  “Nearly. I have a visitor. Can you give us a few minutes?”

  The servant’s voice lowered. Kilraker glanced at Tyen. “A moment, Ironsmelter,” he said, then slipped outside and closed the door.

  Tyen took a sip of the dusky then set the glass down. Kilraker didn’t seem overly concerned, and it was clear he was now interrupting the professor. Was there any other vital information to deliver? He considered. No, I’d best leave him alone. He stood up, but did not want to barge into a private conversation so he took the opportunity to have a closer look at Kilraker’s collection. As he approached a cabinet he glanced at the open door to the bedroom and his gaze was arrested by several rectangular shapes.

  Cases. The professor was leaving.

  Another expedition, perhaps? It was odd that he had not informed his students, but then Tyen’s lessons were suspended so why would he be told? Tyen turned away, not wanting to be caught staring at the personal contents of a man’s luggage if that man returned, and set his gaze on the shelves. Some of the objects were strange, ugly things, and he could not see why anyone would want to collect them. Perhaps there was something magical about them? He sought the darkness of Soot, but there was the tiniest flicker of it coming from something stuffed under a black-etched tusk.

  He leaned closer, then closer again. He could see the spine of a book. A book about the same size as … A chill went through him. His hand operated of its own accord. Even as he touched the book, he knew. It felt familiar.

  “No,” he whispered. “It’s not possible.”

  As the pages fell open, words formed.

  Tyen. Kilraker is setting you up to be blamed for stealing me.

  He could not think, breathe or even move, so when the door opened he only had time to close the book.

  “Ah,” Kilraker said.

  Tyen forced himself to look up at the man, hoping the hurt and fear didn’t show in his face.

  “Why?”

  The professor spread his hands. “We knew Gowel was going to attempt to steal her, so we put a fake in the vault.”

  Liar, Tyen thought.

  But then a more shocking thought came to him. What if Vella was lying? What if she had lied about being able to tell the truth? What if she would say anything, to avoid being locked away again?

  Kilraker held his hand out for the book.

  If I give it to him, and Vella is right, he’ll shout out to draw witnesses, then claim I had stolen the book. It’ll be his word against mine. But if he’s telling the truth …

  “No,” Tyen found himself saying. “I’m keeping hold of it. We’re going to the Director’s office. I’ll give it to him, and nobody else.”

  The professor stared at him wordlessly. Tyen wondered what he was thinking. Was he annoyed and perplexed by Tyen’s defiance? Or was he contemplating the fact that his larcenous plans had been discovered? Tyen hoped badly that it was the former, but then realised that it would mean Vella was the unreliable, dangerous object that the Academy feared. The disappointment would be preferable to Vella being right, however. Especially if the professor resorted to force to retrieve the book. Tyen didn’t think he could stop him.

  Kilraker smiled. “Well, you are wise to be cautious.” He turned to the door. “Let’s go and see him, then.”

  Relief and disappointment came at that. “Thank you,” he said. “I want to trust you, but this last day has been…” He shook his head. “Very unsettling.”

  The professor opened the door and held it open for Tyen. Slipping Vella into his shirt, Tyen stepped past and out into the hall. Drem was waiting. The servant, who was wearing an aircart jacket, regarded him warily then, and at a murmur from Kilraker, moved into the suite. The professor looked relaxed as he led the way down the stairs, but as he reached the ground level he turned to continue down to the basement.

  Tyen stopped. “Where are you going?”

  Kilraker looked up and smiled. “You’ve not heard of our shortcut?”

  The underground passage, Tyen recalled. Feeling foolish, he started after the professor again.

  Instead of a basement, the stairs finished at a long corridor decorated as tastefully as any within the more refined Academy buildings. Paintings had been hung along the walls. Alcoves held statues. Lamps burned every twenty steps or so. Kilraker waited until Tyen caught up so they walked side by side.

  “Where does the tunnel end?” Tyen asked.

  “Near the hall.”

  Which would be convenient for events that required formal dress. The air was warm and not at all stale. Every hundred paces or so an opening led into a small stairwell, with a spiral staircase leading upwards.

  “Where do they go?” Tyen could not resist asking.

  “The gardens above. They are a precaution, in case of flood or fire.”

  Tyen could see the far end of the corridor in the distance. It was empty but for the two of them, and very quiet.

  Kilraker sighed. “There is something I should tell you, Tyen, though I don’t know how to since you are in no mood to believe me. The Academy intends to destroy Vella.”

  Tyen felt his heart drop to his stomach.

  “Why would they? She is a rare and valuable object.”

  “Because she contains Academy secrets, thanks to you neglecting to tell us she could absorb our memories at a touch.”

  Tyen felt his face heat. “Oh. I meant to tell you but … well,
by the time I had the chance it was too late.”

  Kilraker slowed to a stop and faced Tyen. “I don’t agree with them,” he said, his voice lowered. “That is why I swapped her for a facsimile.”

  A thrill of triumph went through Tyen at the admission of theft.

  “Tyen, will you help me save her?” Kilraker asked.

  Staring at the professor, Tyen felt hope war with suspicion.

  “Vella says you were setting me up to take the blame.” He blinked at a flash of insight. “That’s why there was something out of place in the vault, wasn’t it? To put me out of the Librarian’s sight long enough that he couldn’t say whether or not I had made the swap while his attention was elsewhere.”

  Kilraker’s smile faded. “Ah. Well, I had to do something. If he swore he’d not taken his eyes off you everyone would believe him, and they’d consider who else had been in the vault recently. Of course, they’d never find her in your possession so they couldn’t charge you.”

  “But I’d always be under suspicion. Nobody would trust me, or give me opportunities.”

  “A small price to free her. If you help me, I’ll let you talk to her.”

  Tyen shook his head. “No. If she does contain dangerous secrets about the Academy we have to return her to the vault, then convince the Director she is too valuable to be destroyed.”

  “We won’t get a chance to. They plan to destroy her tomorrow.” Kilraker’s expression was serious. “You have in Vella a source of learning greater than the Academy and a teacher better than all the professors combined. She is too valuable to risk that those fools won’t see sense.”

  Tyen placed a hand against his chest where the book rested against his skin. I can’t let them kill her. Vella had been right about Kilraker’s intention to frame Tyen. What should he do? He undid a shirt button and drew her out. Opening the pages, he saw words starting to form.

  Don’t trust him.

  Something invisible caught his wrists and tightened, almost jolting her out of his hands. Looking up, he saw Kilraker’s gaze was fixed on Vella, his eyebrows low in concentration. Taking a step forward, he reached for her.

  Tyen tightened his grip on the cover and tried to back away, but his hand was held in place. Kilraker’s fingers snapped onto the pages and began to pull. Knowing he was about to lose his grasp on her, Tyen drew in magic and stilled the air around the professor’s arm to cool it.

  The air frosted. Tyen felt Kilraker’s grip falter as his muscles chilled. The force holding his arm weakened as the man’s concentration wavered and Tyen felt triumph as he managed to pull away, staggering backwards a few steps. Tyen looked up and his gaze locked with Kilraker’s. The professor’s face twisted in a scowl and he launched himself at Tyen.

  The attack was both magical and physical; Tyen fended off both with a solid shield of stilled air. Cursing as his knuckles cracked against this, Kilraker stepped back again.

  Then Soot filled the tunnel behind him and Tyen’s shield began to shake and vibrate.

  Standing frozen, Tyen widened his protective wall, so appalled that his teacher was actually striking hard enough to kill that he could not think what else to do. He’d never fought in a real magical battle before, though he’d read about plenty. Then a blackness formed around him, like a warning shot to his senses that jolted his mind out of its shock. The magic around him was diminishing and if he didn’t move he would soon be unable to defend himself.

  It was a typical battle situation, he recalled. If one did not defeat the other through skill or trickery, combatants eventually used up all the magic within their reach. They had to move to a fresh source before they used what they’d taken. The only direction Tyen could move in the tunnel was backwards.

  The professor might also reach around Tyen’s shield to take all the magic behind him. Tyen had two defences against that: take that magic first, or retreat faster. Or better still, do both.

  He backed away, robbing the space he moved into as he did. Kilraker followed. To Tyen’s relief, the professor had stopped attacking. Perhaps the man had run out of magic. Tyen briefly considered a return volley. No, he decided. I can’t risk that. I might kill him. I don’t want to. I don’t think I need to yet. And besides, it’s up to the Academy to punish its own.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Not letting his shield fall, Tyen glanced over his shoulder. Three men were hurrying towards them. One was the professor of sorcery from the meeting with the Director, Hapen. The other two were from another department.

  “He—” Tyen began.

  “Stop him!” Kilraker shouted. “He has stolen the artefact from the vault!”

  The three men looked down at Vella. The professor of sorcery scowled.

  “The sooner we destroy that thing the better!”

  “I didn’t—” Tyen’s words were choked off as a force wrapped around his chest. He saw the radiating lines around Professor Hapen. I’m trapped, he thought. Can’t even speak. And the man’s words had confirmed Kilraker’s claim. The Academy did intend to kill Vella.

  He couldn’t let that happen. But what could he do? He was trapped. Then he remembered the stairway leading to the surface. A way out, if he could get loose.

  And then what? Run away? Lose everything he’d worked for?

  His stomach sank as he realised he’d lost it already. From the way the three newcomers regarded him, it was clear they believed he was a thief. What chance did he have to convince them otherwise when it would be Kilraker’s word against his?

  He should stay and fight to clear his name and prove that Kilraker was the real thief, but he would never manage it before Vella was destroyed. If he left he could find a safe place for her, then return to sort things out here.

  If he could get away from Hapen.

  He was surrounded by Soot, which meant he had only the magic he had taken but not yet used. Unless he could reach further.

  Taking a deep breath, he stretched out. He reached beyond the tunnel walls. He reached past the four men closing in on him. He reached below the ground and up towards the sky from which he had so often sensed magic billowing down.

  He was a little surprised to discover how far he could stretch, when he really tried.

  Then he drew all the magic in. Some he channelled out to throw off the force restraining him. Some he shaped into a shield. Blows rained upon it as he dashed towards the nearest stairwell. Shouts filled the tunnel and their echoes chased him up the stairs, which were too short and fussy for what was supposed to be a quick escape. A circular groove in the ceiling suggested a hatch of some kind, but it did not budge as he pushed against it.

  “Just as well there isn’t a flood or fire,” he muttered as he shaped more magic, smashing the hatch upward. Climbing out, he found himself in the middle of a flower bed, the hole through which he’d climbed an ugly wound in the arrangement. Hearing sounds of pursuit in the tunnel, he chose a direction and ran, stumbling over the garden edging onto a path and narrowly avoiding two servants hurrying past.

  I’m in the gardens somewhere between the professors’ apartments and the hall. Where now? Out of the Academy? Which way will they expect me to go? To the closest exit. So he should go a different way. The path he was on was taking him towards the professors’ apartments. They wouldn’t expect him to go there. But it was straight and as soon as his pursuers climbed out of the hatch they’d see him. He dashed down the next side path. It was a narrower one that wound around to the back of the building.

  At one of the turns it gave him a glimpse of the area he was heading for. He skidded to a halt. Behind the professors’ apartments was a flat and featureless pavement that offered no cover at all.

  Then he saw what waited there, capsule inflated and ready to fly.

  And he swallowed a laugh as he leapt into a run again.

  PART TWO

  RIELLE

  CHAPTER 1

  As the doors of the temple opened, the bright sunlight turned all to white. Rielle
followed her companions out, locating them mostly by the sound of their voices. Even when her eyes had adjusted, the paved courtyard seemed leached of colour and the heat set the mud-rendered houses shimmering.

  “Uh. It’s horrible outside,” Bayla muttered. “I wish we could go straight home.”

  “It won’t be so bad in the market,” said her twin, Tareme. She turned to Rielle. “Would you like to come along?”

  Rielle smiled in gratitude at the invitation. “I’d like to, but I can’t. My aunt is expecting me.”

  “But Ako will be there. He said he’d like to see you again. He must have found you interesting.”

  Rielle kept her smile intact with an effort. She wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the twins’ brother. Any respect she’d had for him had died after she’d had to fend off his amorous advances during a silly hide and hunt garden game at their birthday celebration. The twins didn’t know about that, however. Nobody else had been around to witness his behaviour, and he was bound to deny it if she complained. Unable to explain why she now despised him, she could only pretend simple disinterest. It was fine for the twins to talk about their brother’s flaws, but not polite for anyone outside a family to criticise their relatives. Especially for women to.

  “I’m surprised to hear that,” she replied. “Though he probably has me mixed up with someone else. He seemed to mistake me for someone hired as entertainment.”

  Tareme grinned. “His habit is to act before he thinks. It is a part of his charm. He has a great enthusiasm for life, don’t you think?”

  She shrugged. Life? No, his enthusiasm is for something a little more specific. But, then, I suppose he’s not specific when it comes to which women he is enthusiastic about.

  “Enjoy the market,” she said. “See you next quarterday.”

  As the two girls strode down the stairs and off across the courtyard, Rielle felt a pang of regret. She was looking forward to a painting lesson with her aunt that afternoon, but an invitation to join the other girls after temple classes was rare and more than she had hoped for when she’d first started attending. In the beginning, most of the girls’ first conversations with her had been about their surprise and relief that she didn’t smell bad.