“I thought so too, at first. But it doesn’t make sense.”
“No? You weren’t here at the time, then?”
“No.” Dakon rose and looked down at the floor rug. One corner of it had been scorched. He stepped onto the burnt patch and turned round. Then he pointed to the floor a few steps away. “Stand there.”
Mystified, Jayan obeyed.
“That’s where Tessia was lying.”
“Tessia?” Jayan asked. “The healer’s daughter?” Then he added. “Lying?”
“Yes.” Dakon backed away, looking over his shoulder as he stepped over a broken chair. When he was nearly in the corner of the room where the scorching was the worst, he stopped. “This is where Takado was standing when I arrived.”
Jayan raised his eyebrows. “What was Tessia doing in the room with Takado?”
“She had come to tend to Hanara.”
“Hanara?”
“The slave.”
“The slave was in here?”
“No – a few doors down, in the servant’s closet.”
“So why was she in here, on the floor? Or... why was Takado in here with her?” Jayan looked down at his feet, then over at Lord Dakon, and felt a shiver run across his skin as he realised which direction all the scorch marks ran in. “Oh.”
Dakon smiled and stepped back over the chair. “Yes. The answer to those questions may be less relevant than their consequences. Whatever the reason those two were in here alone together, with the door closed, the result was something neither expected.”
“It left her on the floor and . . .” Jayan look pointedly over Dakon’s shoulder, “did that. From the looks of it, I’d say she didn’t much like Takado’s company.”
Which meant Tessia used magic, he thought. Surely not...
The magician sighed. “We can’t dismiss the possibility that the Sachakan arranged this to look that way, so we would jump to conclusions about her. I can’t see why – except as a joke. But if he didn’t . . .” He shrugged and let the sentence hang.
If he didn’t, then Tessia is a natural.
Jayan watched his master closely, trying to judge what the man felt about this unexpected turn of events. By law, Kyralian magicians had to train naturals, no matter who they were, or what social status they had. Dakon did not look dismayed, but he didn’t look particularly pleased, either. Instead, he seemed worried. Lines Jayan hadn’t noticed before marked his forehead and each side of his mouth. That bothered the apprentice on another level. He had always been smugly relieved to have a teacher young enough to still be active and, well, not a boring, lecturing old man. Though Dakon was eighteen years older than Jayan, his mind was still youthful enough to be interesting, while knowledgeable enough to be a good resource. Jayan enjoyed Dakon’s company as much as his lessons.
And what do I think of Tessia joining us? He tried to imagine having the same sorts of conversations with a woman – and commoner – in the room, and couldn’t.
Tessia was by no means Dakon’s social equal, so perhaps she would not always be a part of their social evenings. No, he decided. She will have lessons separately, too, because they’ll be so basic there won’t be much point my being there. But she’ll demand a lot of Dakon’s time.
Abruptly, Jayan realised there was much he disliked about this turn of events. If Dakon had two apprentices, his time would have to be split between them. Unless...
“You don’t have to take her on,” Jayan said, making his tone reassuring. “You could send her to someone else.”
Dakon looked up at Jayan and smiled crookedly. “And send her away from her family? No, she stays here,” he said firmly. “But her family may not like it. The news must be delivered with some delicacy. Her father is obviously attached to her. To frighten her would be disastrous. Above all we must not give them high hopes then dash them. I have to test her, to be sure she is what she appears to be.”
Jayan nodded and turned away to hide his dismay. I suppose if anyone in the village must turn out to be a natural, at least it’s someone who doesn’t have to be taught to read and write. He moved to the chair Dakon had occupied and sat down. Then he smiled. “I wish I could have seen his face.”
“Veran’s?”
“No, Takado’s.”
Dakon chuckled and moved to another, slightly scorched, chair. “He wasn’t pleased. No, he looked disgusted.”
Sachakans hated naturals, Jayan knew. They didn’t fit into Sachakan social structure, a problem which was usually more dangerous for the natural than for the master. A person’s powers had to be particularly strong to surface on their own, yet no ordinary magician, no matter how powerful, could hope to match the strength of a higher magician, who had taken and stored magic numerous times from their slaves or apprentices. But a trained magician was much more dangerous to keep as a slave than an untrained latent. Sachakan naturals were too much trouble, and therefore doomed to die, if not killed by a magician then when they eventually lost control of their powers.
“It’s fortunate that I discovered them when I did,” Dakon added. “I suspect he would have killed her, and expected me to thank him for doing me a favour.”
Jayan shuddered. “And risk the uncontrolled release of her power when she died?”
“No risk if he drained her of power first.” Dakon sighed. “Takado knows I would have dealt with her before now if she had already shown signs of natural ability, so he could safely assume her power must only just be surfacing, and not be particularly dangerous.”
Jayan looked at the scorched and cracked wall. “That’s not dangerous?”
“It would be to a non-magician,” Dakon agreed. “It’s mostly cosmetic, though. Not much force behind it, or she’d have blown a hole in the wall.”
“How much damage would she have done if she’d been at the point of losing control completely?”
“The whole house. Maybe the village. Naturals are usually stronger than the average magician. Some have even suggested that those of us who would never have gained access to our power without help from our masters were never meant to be magicians.”
“The whole village.” Jayan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “When are you going to test her?”
Dakon sighed, then rose to his feet. “The sooner the better. I’ll give her a little time to get over the shock of what happened, then pay her family a visit, probably after dinner. I suspect she’d think me neglectful if I didn’t at least check to see if she was all right.” He strode to the door.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No.” Dakon smiled in gratitude. “The fewer scary magicians in her house the better.”
Then he turned and headed down the corridor.
CHAPTER 5
The house in which Healer Veran lived with his family was one of three that Dakon’s father had ordered constructed over thirty years before, to attract skilled men to the village. Looking at the simple, sturdy building with a critical eye, Dakon was happy to see it was showing no outward signs of decay. He relied on the occupants to tell him when repairs were needed. Sometimes villagers were too shy, proud, or even ignorant to ask for work to be done and as a result some of the houses hadn’t been as well maintained as they ought to have been.
Dakon’s and Veran’s fathers had been close friends for many years. Lord Yerven had met the opinionated Healer Berin in Imardin, and been so impressed by him that he offered him a position in his ley. Dakon had grown up not realising that their friendship was unusual for two men of different status and age. The twelve years’ difference in age was the lesser barrier since both men were in their middle to later years, but a close friendship that lasted when one was a subordinate and the other the local magician and lord was rare.
Dakon’s father had died five years ago, at the age of seventy-seven, and Berin had passed away less than a year later. Though Yerven had children late in life, and the difference in age between Dakon and Veran was smaller than that between their fathers, they had never b
een more than acquaintances.
We may not be close friends but we have a respect for each other, Dakon thought now. At least, I hope he knows how much I value him. He lifted a hand to knock on the door, then froze. Should I tell him what I suspect brought about Tessia’s possible use of magic?
No, he decided. I can’t be sure what she and Takado were doing, although I doubt Tessia initiated or welcomed it. Even so, I should leave it to Tessia to decide how much anyone learns of the matter. And I might be wrong. It’s always possible, though highly unlikely, she approached him.
He knocked, and after a short wait the door opened. Tessia’s mother, Lasia, answered. She lifted a small lamp.
“Lord Dakon,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, thank you,” he replied. Stepping inside, he looked through an open door to the right and saw a homely kitchen with freshly washed dishes on the table. The door opposite was closed, but he knew from past visits that Veran’s workroom was beyond. Berin had used the room for the same purpose. Lasia knocked on the door and called out to her husband. A muffled reply came from within.
“Come into the seating room, Lord Dakon,” she urged, leading him to the end of the short corridor, where she opened another door and stepped back to let him pass through. He entered a small, slightly musty-smelling room containing a few old chairs and some sturdy wooden chests and tables. Following him in, Lasia bade him take a chair, then lit another lamp. Footsteps in the corridor heralded Veran’s arrival.
“Is Tessia here?” Dakon asked.
Lasia nodded. “She’s asleep. I looked in on her before dinner, but she didn’t wake up. She’s clearly exhausted.”
Dakon nodded. Should I ask them to rouse her? If I tell them without her, I’ll have to explain it all again to Tessia. But she probably needed the sleep, after all the work of the night before, and the surprises of the day.
“Tessia came to the Residence earlier,” he began.
“Yes. We’re sorry about that,” Lasia interrupted. “She should have waited for her father, but we were asleep and I expect she thought she was doing Veran a favour. Sometimes I think she has no grasp of proper manners, or, worse, she knows but chooses to—”
“I have no problem with her coming alone to the Residence,” Dakon assured her. “That is not why I am here.”
Veran had laid a hand on his wife’s arm during her outburst. Now he looked at Dakon, his eyebrows rising.
“Is it the slave? Has his condition worsened?”
“No.” Dakon shook his head. “He is awake and has managed to eat some broth. Tessia said he was healing well.” He paused. “It is what happened afterwards that I must talk to you about.”
The couple exchanged a glance, then looked at Dakon expectantly.
“On her way out of the Residence Tessia was... surprised by my guest,” Dakon continued. “The Sachakan. I think he gave her a fright. She may or may not have done something quite extraordinary in reaction.”
Lasia’s eye widened. Veran frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I think she used magic.”
For a long moment the couple stared at him, then as realisation came a grin broke out on Veran’s face. Lasia had turned pale, but suddenly she flushed a bright red and her eyes brightened with excitement. By then, Veran had smothered his smile and become serious.
“You’re not sure, are you?” he asked.
Dakon shook his head. “No. It is possible Takado made it appear she had used magic, as some kind of strange joke. But it is—”
“I thought you did it!”
Everybody jumped. The voice, female and full of surprise, came from the doorway. They all turned to find Tessia standing there. She stared at Lord Dakon. “So it was him?”
“Tessia!” Lasia exclaimed. “Use Lord Dakon’s name when you address him.”
The young woman glanced at her mother, then gave Dakon an apologetic look. “Sorry, Lord Dakon.”
He chuckled. “Apology accepted. Actually, I’m here to establish whether or not you used magic this morning.”
She looked suddenly uncomfortable. “It wasn’t me... was it?”
“It is possible. We’ll know for sure if I test you.”
“How... how do you do that?”
“An untrained natural magician cannot prevent magic from straying from their mind. I should be able to detect it with a light search.”
“Mind-reading?” Her eyes widened.
“No, there’s no need for me to enter your mind, just sit at the edges and look for leakage.”
“Leakage?” Veran looked at his daughter. “You magicians have some interesting terms. Not particularly reassuring ones.”
“They shouldn’t be, in this case,” Dakon told him. “There is another way to learn whether Tessia can use magic: wait until she uses it again. It tends to lead to expensive house repairs and redecoration costs, so I don’t recommend it.”
Tessia looked at the floor. “Sorry about that – if it was me.”
Dakon smiled at her. “I never liked the colours in that room, anyway. The pink was too... orange.” She did not smile, and he realised she was too nervous to find any humour in the situation.
“So... what do I do?” she asked.
He looked around, then with magic drew one of the smaller chairs round to face his. Veran chuckled and gave Dakon a knowing look. The small reminder of what Tessia might be able to do if she co-operated wasn’t lost on the healer.
“You’ll find it more comfortable if you sit,” Dakon invited. Tessia obeyed. “Close your eyes and try to still and calm your mind. That’s probably not easy right now, but you must try. It helps if you breathe slowly.”
She did as he suggested. Aware of her parents watching, he placed his fingers gently on either side of her brow and closed his own eyes. He sent his mind forth.
It took only a moment to find what he sought. Magic was flowing from her, gently but with occasional small bursts suggesting greater power within. Truly the term “leakage” was a good one to describe what he sensed. It wasn’t meant to suggest the drip from a small vessel, but instead the escaping water from cracks in a dam. Cracks that warned of imminent failure, and of flooding and destruction of all in its path.
Releasing Tessia, he opened his eyes. Her own flew open and she stared at him expectantly. As always, it amazed him that a mere person, a human, could contain such power. Like all new apprentices, she had no grasp of her own potential. Not even the most educated, ambitious apprentice truly appreciated the limitless possibilities it offered, or the inescapable limitations it imposed.
“Yes, you have magical ability,” he told her. “Plenty of it, from what I saw.”
Her parents both let out the breaths they’d been holding, then Lasia burst into chatter.
“Of all the things... what amazing luck! This couldn’t have come at a better time. She’s not ready to marry, sweet thing, and this will give her the time to – and what a husband she might attract now. Oh! But how long until she can marry? I expect she has to become a magician first. What—”
“Mother!” burst from Tessia. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here!”
Lasia paused, then patted her daughter’s hand apologetically. “Sorry, dear. But I’m excited for you. No more . . .” She looked at her husband. “No more silly ideas about you becoming a healer.”
Veran frowned, then turned to Dakon. “I expect Tessia will have to move into the Residence.”
Dakon considered, then nodded. “It would be better if she did. Especially at the beginning, when she has little control over her power. If I’m there when she uses it, I can minimise the damage.”
“Of course,” Veran said. “I would ask a favour, though. I was considering taking a boy of the village to be my apprentice. It seems I must, now. But it will take time to train him to even half of Tessia’s level of skill, knowledge and experience. Might I borrow her now and then?”
Dakon smiled. “Of course. After all the good w
ork you’ve done, I can hardly begrudge you that.”
“Could...?” Tessia began, then faltered at a stern look from her mother. When she didn’t continue, Dakon gestured that she should. She sighed. “Can a magician still study and practise healing?”
“No, Tessia, it’s—” her mother began.
“Of course,” Dakon replied. “Most magicians have personal interests, and pet projects. But,” he added, “your first priority at this point is to learn to control that power of yours. It is what we magicians call the price of magic. You must learn control because if you don’t, your magic will eventually kill you. And when it does it will destroy not only you, but a great deal of whatever surrounds you. With the strength of your power, it’s unlikely it would be just a room.”
Tessia’s eyes went wide. Her parents exchanged a grim look. She swallowed and nodded. “Then I had better learn fast.”
Dakon smiled. “I’m sure you will. But I’m afraid you won’t have many chances to indulge interests or pet projects fully until you are an actual magician, and that usually takes years of study.”
Her shoulders dropped a little, but her lips compressed into a smile of determination. “I’m good at study,” she told him. “And fast. Aren’t I, Father?”
Veran laughed. “You do well enough, though I think if you saw how much study an entrant to the healing university had to do, you wouldn’t be so sure of yourself. I don’t know if a magician’s apprentice faces as much hard work?” He looked at Dakon questioningly.
“I doubt it,” Dakon admitted. “We prefer a steady pace. It’s vital to ensure every lesson is well understood before proceeding to the next. Hasty learning can lead to mistakes, and magical mistakes tend to be more spectacular than healing mistakes. My father used to use that reasoning to explain why apprentices of magic drink far less than the students of healing.”
Veran grinned. “‘Healers wake up with a sore head,” he used to say; ‘magicians wake up with a sore head, our toes burned black and the roof on the floor.’”
“Oh dear,” Lasia said, rolling her eyes. “Here they go. Just like their fathers.”
Tessia was looking from Dakon to her father and back with a bemused expression. Dakon sobered. The girl was probably still stunned by the news she was going to be a magician. She needed time to think about her future, and would probably appreciate some time with her family before stepping into her new life.
The Magician’s Apprentice Page 5
