Black Magician-02 The Novice

by Trudi Canavan

  All novices thought about their desires, about things Dannyl had been accused of. That was how the mind worked. It did not mean they were guilty of acting upon those thoughts.

  But what if those early rumors were true?

  Rothen sighed, rose, and returned to the guestroom. When he had taken on Dannyl's guardianship, he had approached the Head of Healers, Vinara's predecessor, for advice. Lord Garen had told Rothen that the occurrence of men taking male lovers was more common than generally thought. The old Healer had been surprisingly accepting of the practice, saying in his typical clinical fashion that there was no physical harm in an adult male relationship if both were free of disease.

  The social consequences, however, were far worse. Honor and reputation mattered more than anything else to the Houses, and the Kyralian court was painfully conservative. While Dannyl couldn't be thrown out of the Guild for such a "crime," he would become a social outcast. He would probably lose his ambassadorial position, and would never be offered a role of importance again. He would not be included in Guild projects, and none of his own experiments would receive funding or attention. He would be the butt of jokes and the victim of...

  Stop it. Nothing has been proven. It's just a rumor.

  Rothen sighed and reached for the jar of nemmin. As he mixed the powder with water, he thought wistfully of the past year. How could so much have changed in a few short months? How he wished everything was still as it was a year ago, before Dannyl left for Elyne, and Sonea started at the University.

  Bracing himself for the bitter taste, he put the glass to his lips and gulped down the drug.

  At the knock on his office door, Lorlen looked up in surprise. He was rarely disturbed this late. Rising, he walked to the door and opened it.

  "Captain Barran," he exclaimed in surprise. "What brings you to the Guild this late?"

  The young man bowed, then smiled thinly. "Forgive me for the late visit, Administrator. I'm relieved to find you awake. You said I should contact you if evidence of magic was found in connection with the murders."

  Lorlen felt a stab of alarm. He opened the door wider and stepped aside. "Come in and tell me what you have found."

  Barran followed Lorlen into the room. Indicating with a wave that the young guard should sit down, Lorlen stepped around his desk and returned to his seat.

  "So tell me why you believe this murderer is using magic," he prompted.

  Barran grimaced. "The burns on one of the bodies—but let me first describe the scene." He paused, obviously sorting through details in his mind. "We were alerted to the murders about two hours ago. The house is in the Western Quarter, in one of the wealthier areas—which was a surprise. We found no sign that anyone had forced their way into the house. One window was wide open, however.

  "Inside a bedroom we found two men, a young man and his father. The father was dead, and had all the marks we've come to associate with this murderer: wrists cut and marked with bloody fingerprints. The younger man was alive, though barely. He had typical strike burns across his chest and arms, and his ribcage was crushed. Despite this, we were able to question him before he died."

  Barran's expression was strained. "He said the murderer was tall and dark-haired. He was dressed in dark, strange clothing." Barran glanced up at Lorlen's globe light. "And one of those was floating in the room. He had arrived home and heard his father shouting. The murderer had been surprised at his discovery, and had struck out without hesitation, then had fled through the window." Barran paused and looked at Lorlen's desk. "Oh, and he was wearing a ..."

  Seeing the guard's surprised expression, Lorlen looked down. He caught his breath as he realized that Akkarin's ring, glinting red in the light, was in plain sight. Thinking quickly, he lifted his hand to give Barran a better view.

  "A ring like this?"

  Barran's shoulders lifted. "I can't say exactly. The young man didn't have time to describe it in detail." He frowned and grew hesitant. "I don't remember you wearing this before, Administrator. May I ask where you acquired it?"

  "It was a gift," Lorlen answered. He smiled wryly. "From a friend who wasn't aware of that detail about the murders. I felt I had to wear it, even if just for a little while."

  Barran nodded. "Yes, ruby is not a popular stone at the moment. So, what will you do now?"

  Lorlen sighed and considered the situation. With such obvious evidence of magic, he ought to alert the Higher Magicians. But if Akkarin was the murderer, and an investigation led to this discovery, it would bring about the confrontation with Akkarin that Lorlen feared.

  Yet if Lorlen tried to hide the evidence of magic, and it turned out that Akkarin wasn't the killer, people would continue to die at the hands of a rogue magician. Eventually the murderer would be found, the truth would come out, and people would question why Lorlen hadn't done anything—

  — You must investigate it yourself.

  Lorlen blinked in surprise. Akkarin's mind-voice was as quiet as a whisper. He managed to stop himself from staring at the ring.

  — Tell Barran that the evidence of magic must remain secret. If the public knows that a magician has turned into a killer it will generate panic and distrust.

  Nodding, Lorlen looked up at Barran. "I will need to discuss this with my colleagues. For now, don't let any word that this murderer uses magic spread further than necessary. Better that we can deal with this man without the public knowing he is a rogue. I will contact you tomorrow."

  Barran nodded. As Lorlen rose the young guard quickly got to his feet.

  "There is one other piece of information that might interest you," Barran said as he followed Lorlen to the door.

  "Yes?"

  "Word is going around that the Thieves are looking for this man, too. Seems they don't much like having a killer about who isn't in their control."

  "No, I imagine they wouldn't."

  Barran stepped out of the door. "Thank you for seeing me at such a late hour, Administrator."

  Lorlen shrugged. "I am often up late. Though I doubt I'll be getting much sleep during the rest of the night after this piece of news. Still, I thank you for bringing it to me so soon after receiving word yourself."

  The young guard smiled, then bowed. "Good night, Administrator."

  Watching Barran walk away, Lorlen sighed. He looked down at the ring on his hand. Are you the murderer? he projected at it.

  There was no answer.

  The passage turned again and Sonea paused to get her bearings. At first she tried to picture the plan in her memory, but after several tries she gave up and reached into her robe pockets.

  It was a week since she had first entered the passages. She had visited them every night, each time leaving the map in her robes until she was forced to use it. She wanted to memorize it all in case Regin and his allies ambushed her and looked through her box or pockets once they had exhausted her.

  Sonea's searching fingers found nothing. The map wasn't there. Her heart skipped and started racing. Had she lost it? Had she dropped it somewhere in the passages? She didn't think there'd be much hope of retracing her steps. All those turns and intersections behind her ...

  Then she remembered that she had hidden the map inside the fraying cover of one of her medicine books, which was in her box—and she had left her box at a passage entrance, not wanting to lug it around while exploring.

  She cursed herself for forgetting and started back the way she had come. After several hundred paces she stopped, shaking her head. She should have reached familiar ground by now, but the turns and intersections were all wrong.

  She was lost.

  She didn't feel frightened, only annoyed at herself. The Guild grounds were big, but she doubted the tunnels would go far beyond the area covered by the buildings. If she kept going, she was bound to find herself under the University eventually. So long as she didn't wander aimlessly, and paid attention to the general direction they took her, she would find her way out.

  So she started walking.
After several twists and turns, and the discovery of a small complex of rooms including one with a blocked fireplace and a tiled room that must have once been a bath, she came to a dead end where the roof had collapsed. It was not one of the dead ends she had encountered before. Doubling back, she chose another path.

  Eventually she found herself in a straight passage with no side entrances. Her curiosity grew stronger as she continued down this passage. A straight tunnel like this must lead to something. Perhaps another Guild building. Or perhaps it led out of the Guild altogether.

  After a few hundred paces she encountered an alcove. Stepping into it, she discovered the mechanism for a hidden door. She found the spy hole that all of the doors contained and put her eye to it.

  A room lay beyond, but she could not see much of it. Not only was the room dark, but a piece of dirty glass had been placed over the hole, blurring the view.

  But she could see enough to know that the room was empty. Reaching for the mechanism, she pulled a lever and the door swung open. She looked around the room and felt her blood turn to ice.

  It was the room underneath the High Lord's Residence.

  For what seemed an age all she could do was stare around, her heart hammering in her chest. Then slowly her legs obeyed her need to get away. Her hands groped for the lever that would close the door and found it.

  As it slid shut her muscles unfroze and went limp. She sagged against the wall, heedless of faren or other insects, and slid to her knees.

  If he'd been there . . .

  It was too terrifying to think about. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to stop shaking. She looked up at the door and down at herself. She was kneeling next to a secret entrance to Akkarin's room. Not a good place to be, particularly if he was in the habit of using these passages.

  Strengthened again by fear, she stumbled to her feet and hurried away. Though the passage continued past the alcove, she no longer felt any need to know where it led. Breathing quickly, she broke into a run and fled in what she hoped was the direction of the University.

  Chapter 31

  An Unplanned Encounter

  The road twisted about, following the curve of the land as it wound through the foothills of the Grey Mountains. As Dannyl, Tayend and their servants rode around a corner, a striking building came into sight. It rose straight up from the edge of a precipice. Tiny windows dotted the walls, and a narrow stone bridge led to an unadorned opening.

  Dannyl and Tayend exchanged glances. By Tayend's expression, Dannyl knew the scholar found the building as unwelcoming as he did. He turned to the servants.

  "Hend, Krimen. Go ahead and see if Dem Ladeiri will grant us a visit."

  "Yes, my lord," Hend replied. The two servants nudged their horses into a trot and disappeared beyond the next turn of the road.

  "Not a friendly-looking place," Tayend muttered.

  "No," Dannyl agreed. "More like a fort than a house."

  "It was a fort once," Tayend said. "Centuries ago."

  Dannyl slowed his horse to a walk. "What can you tell me of Dem Ladeiri?"

  "He's old. About ninety. He has a few servants, but lives alone otherwise."

  "And he has a library."

  "Quite a famous one. His family has collected all sorts of oddities over the last few hundred years, including some books."

  "Perhaps we'll find something useful here."

  Tayend shrugged. "I'm expecting to find much that is strange, and little that is useful. Librarian Irand said he knew the Dem when they were both young men, and called him an 'amusing eccentric' "

  Dannyl watched for glimpses of the building through the trees as they continued along the road. They had been travelling for three weeks, staying no more than a night in any place. Introducing himself to country Dems and testing their children was becoming a chore, and none of the libraries they visited contained anything they had not already learned.

  Of course, this may have been the case for Akkarin as well. His quest for knowledge of ancient magic had ended without him producing any great discoveries.

  At last the bridge appeared before them. It spanned a dizzying drop to a ravine far below. Deep within an opening in the front wall of the building were two large wooden doors, hanging from hinges so rusted that Dannyl wondered why they hadn't yet given way. A thin, white-haired man wearing clothes that looked a size too large stood between the doors.

  "Greetings, Ambassador Dannyl." The old man's voice was thin and wavering. He bowed stiffly. "Welcome to my home."

  Dannyl and Tayend dismounted and handed the reins to their servants. "Thank you, Dem Ladeiri," Dannyl replied. "This is Tayend of Tremmelin, scholar of the Great Library."

  The Dem turned and peered short-sightedly at Tayend. "Welcome, young man. I have a library too, you know."

  "Yes, I've heard. A library famous throughout Elyne," Tayend replied with convincingly affected eagerness. "Full of curiosities. I would love to see it, if you do not mind."

  "Of course you can!" the Dem exclaimed. "Come inside."

  They followed the old man into a small courtyard, then through a rusty iron door into a hall. Though the furnishings were luxurious, a smell of dust hung in the air.

  "Iri!" the old man called shrilly. Footsteps hurried to a doorway and a middle-aged woman wearing an apron appeared. "Bring my guests some refreshments. We'll be in the library."

  The woman's eyes widened as she saw Dannyl's robes. She bowed hastily and backed out of sight.

  "There's no need to take us to the library straightaway," Dannyl said. "We do not wish to inconvenience you."

  The Dem waved a hand. "It's no inconvenience. I was in the library when your servants arrived."

  They followed the old man into a corridor, then down a long, spiral staircase that looked as if it had been carved out of the rock wall. The last section of the staircase was made of sturdy wood, and opened out into the middle of a vast room.

  Dannyl smiled as he heard Tayend's gasp. Clearly, the scholar had not expected to be impressed.

  The room was carefully divided by rows of shelving. Spread before them were stuffed animals, bottles of preserving liquid containing organs and creatures, carvings made from all manner of materials, strange contraptions, lumps of rock and crystal, countless scrolls, tablets, and shelf after shelf of books. Huge sculptures stood here and there, making Dannyl wonder how they could have been brought down the stairs into the library—or even transported through the mountains. Charts of stars and other mysterious diagrams hung from the walls.

  They followed the Dem through these marvels, too amazed to speak. As he led them down an aisle between the books, Tayend peered at the small plaques engraved with subjects and numbers attached to each shelf.

  "What are these numbers for?" the scholar asked.

  The Dem turned and smiled. "Cataloguing system. Each book has a number and I keep a record of them all on paper."

  "We don't have anything this detailed at the Great Library. We keep books on the same subject together ... as best we can. How long have you had this system in place?"

  The old man glanced at Tayend sideways. "My grandfather invented it."

  "Did you ever suggest the Great Library adopt it?"

  "Several times. Irand did not see any value in it."

  "Really." Tayend looked amused. "I would love to see how it works."

  "You will," the old man replied, "since that is what I am about to show you."

  They left the shelves and arrived at a large desk surrounded by wooden chests of drawers.

  "Now, is there any particular subject you would like to explore?"

  "Have you got any books on ancient magical practices?" Tayend asked.

  The old man's eyebrows rose. "Yes. But can you be more specific?"

  Dannyl and Tayend exchanged a glance.

  "Anything to do with the King of Charkan or Shakan Dra."

  The Dem's eyebrows rose higher. "I will check."

  He turned and pulled open a drawer
to reveal rows of cards. Flicking through, he called out a number. Then, closing the drawer, he moved down to the end of the shelves and turned into an aisle. Stopping at one of the bookcases, the Dem ran a finger along the spines, then tapped one.

  "This is it." He drew out the book and handed it to Tayend.

  "It's a history of Ralend of Kemori."

  "There must be a reference to the King of Charkan in there, or my cards would not have led me to this book," the Dem assured him. "Now, follow me. I believe we have some artifacts, too."

  They followed the Dem out of the bookshelves to several rows of drawers. These, too, were numbered. The old man pulled out a drawer and set it on a nearby table. As he peered inside he gave a low exclamation.

  "Ah! That's right. This was sent to me five years ago. I remember thinking that your High Lord would have wanted to see it."

  Once more Tayend and Dannyl exchanged a glance.

  "Akkarin?" Dannyl asked, looking into the box. It contained a silver ring. "Why would he be interested?"

  "Because he came to me many years ago looking for information about the King of Charkan. He showed me this symbol." The Dem held up the ring. Set into it was a dark red gem, and carved into the surface of the gem was a crescent moon next to a crude hand. "But when I sent him a letter telling him what I had received, he replied that he was unable to visit because of his new position."

  Taking the ring, Dannyl examined it closely.

  "The person who sent it said that, according to legend, magicians can use it to communicate with each other without fear of being overheard," the Dem added.

  "Really? Who was this generous donor?"

  "I don't know. He—or she—didn't give their name." The Dem shrugged. "Sometimes people don't want their family to know they've given something valuable away. In any case, it's not a true gem. It's only glass."

  "Try it," urged a voice at Dannyl's shoulder.