Dannyl looked at Tayend, surprised. The scholar grinned. "Go on!"
"I'd need to be communicating with another magician," Dannyl pointed out, as he slipped the ring on his finger. "And have a third to test if he could detect our conversation."
Dannyl looked down at the ring. He felt nothing to indicate anything magical was happening.
"I can't sense anything from it." He pulled it off and gave it back to the Dem. "Perhaps it once held some magical properties, but has lost them over time."
The old man nodded and put the box away. "The book may be more enlightening. There are chairs over here for reading," he said, waving them across the room. As they reached the chairs, the woman they had seen earlier arrived with a tray laden with food. Another followed carrying glasses and a bottle of wine. Tayend sat down and began leafing through the history of Ralend of Kemori.
" 'The King of Charkan spoke of his path,' " he read." 'He came by the mountains, stopping to offer gifts at Armje, the city of the moon.' " Tayend looked up. "Armje. I've heard that name."
"It is a ruin now," the Dem said, his mouth still full of savory bun. "Not far from here. I used to climb up there all the time, in my younger days."
As the Dem began to describe the ruins enthusiastically, Dannyl saw that Tayend wasn't listening. The scholar's gaze sharpened as he continued to read the book. Knowing that look, Dannyl smiled. The Dem's library hadn't turned out to be the collection of useless oddities that Tayend had been expecting.
* * *
In the two weeks since she had first entered the secret passages, Sonea hadn't once encountered Regin. While she hoped discovery by Lord Yikmo had put off Regin's allies, she suspected it hadn't.
She had heard nothing to indicate they had been punished. Yikmo had not mentioned the incident again, and no one else seemed to know of it, so she guessed he had respected her request to keep silent. Unfortunately, this would only give Regin's allies more confidence that they could harass her and get away with it.
Since Regin had always waylaid her somewhere on the second level, where the library was, she had been careful to exit the secret passages on the lower floor. The previous evening, she saw the first sign that he had worked this out. Entering the main corridor on the lower floor, she had seen a novice standing at the far end and, a few steps later, in the Entrance Hall, came face to face with one of the older boys. Though he hadn't dared to attack her, he had smiled smugly as she passed.
So this evening she had exited the secret passages on the third level instead. Keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible, she cautiously made her way toward the main corridor.
If she encountered Regin and his friends, she could still run away and escape into the secret passages. If she wasn't cornered before she could get to an entrance, that is, and if she could get into the passages without them seeing.
Rounding a corner, she glimpsed a flash of brown material around the next turn and felt her heart sink. As she backed away, she heard a faint whisper. Footsteps echoed from the direction she had come. She cursed under her breath and began to run. Darting into a side passage, she collided with a lone novice. A blast of magic hit her shield, but he was alone and she easily pushed him away.
Three turns later she encountered two more novices. They tried to block her path, but gave up after a moment. At the door to a portal room, she was delayed when four novices stepped out to fight her. Pushing past them, she placed a magical lock on the door.
Keep them separated, she thought, Yikmo would approve.
Moving into the inner passages, she hurried toward the nearest portal room. When she was in sight of it, she willed the door to open and close, then quickly retraced her steps.
Still alone, she thought. Slowing to quieten her footsteps, she took a winding path, finally coming to a door to the secret passages. Checking to make sure no one could see, she slipped a hand under a painting and felt the lever.
"She went this way," a voice called.
Her heart skipped a beat. She yanked the lever down and stumbled through the opening, then pushed the door closed.
Surrounded by darkness, she peered through the peephole, breathing heavily. Through the little hole, she saw several novices pass. Counting them, she felt ill. Twenty novices.
But she had evaded them. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing quietened. A little warm air touched her neck.
Sonea frowned. Warm air?
Then, beneath the sound of her own breathing, she heard another, softer, breath. She spun around and willed a light into existence . . . then choked down a cry of terror.
Dark eyes bore into hers. His arms were folded across his chest, the incal glinting gold against the black of his robes. His face was set in a disapproving scowl.
Swallowing hard, she edged sideways, but an arm rose to block her path.
"Get out," he snarled.
She hesitated. Couldn't he hear the novices? Didn't he understand that she would be walking into a trap?
"Now!" he snapped. "And don't enter these passages again."
Turning, she fumbled with the lock, her hands shaking. Checking the peephole, she was relieved to see the passage outside was clear of witnesses. She stumbled through and felt a whisper of cold air on the back of her neck as the door closed behind her.
For several heartbeats she stood there, shivering. Then she thought of him watching her through the peephole and forced herself to move. As she rounded a corner twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at her in surprise.
"Found her!" someone cried joyfully.
Sonea threw up a shield against the first strikes. She backed away and then, as Regin barked orders for half to circle around and block her escape, turned and ran.
As she fled past the hidden door, she felt shock fall away and anger rising.
Why doesn't he stop them? Is this my punishment for going where I wasn't supposed to go? She skidded to a halt as novices leapt out of a side passage and then, throwing up a barrier to hold them there, she dashed down the only other exit.
Won't people question why he didn't ... but of course, nobody knows he was there but me. Feeling her barrier fail under the onslaught of the novices, she cursed. As she turned a corner she slammed into an invisible wall. She broke the barrier easily and hurried past only to meet another. This, too, fell quickly, but she found herself blocked by another, and another. Her heart sank as footsteps signalled the approach of novices in front and behind. In the next moment she was shielding a relentless shower of strikes.
What was he doing in the hidden passages, anyway? I never saw any sign of footprints . . . unless he has been smoothing the dust as he passed . . . but why would he do that when nobody else uses the passages?
Novices blocked her escape. Trapped, she could only wait as they wore her down. With so many attackers, her strength failed rapidly. As her shield began to waver, Regin stepped to the front and smiled broadly. He held a small bottle in his hand, filled with a dark liquid. At a signal from him the attack stopped.
"Sweet Sonea," he said, sending a bolt of power at her shield. "How my heart lifts to see you." Another strike. "It has been so long since we met." Her shield began to crumble, but she drew up more power from somewhere. "Absence does nurture regard, as they say." The next strike broke it easily. She braced, waiting for the stunstrikes to come.
"I have brought you a gift," Regin continued. "A perfume of the most exotic variety." He plucked the cork from the bottle. "Urgh! Such sweet fragrance. Would you like to try it?"
Even from a few steps away, she recognized the smell. Her class had extracted oil from the leaves of the kreppa bush for a medicine project. The remaining juice smelled like rotting vegetation and could cause stinging blisters.
Regin waved the unstoppered bottle carelessly. "But one tiny bottle is too small a token of my regard. Look, I have brought more!"
Bottles appeared in the other novices' hands. They opened them gingerly and the corridor filled with the sickening odor.
"
Tomorrow, we will know where you are by your sweet perfume." Regin nodded to the others. "Now!" he barked.
Hands thrust forward, sending several streams of the vile juice toward her. She threw up her hands, closed her eyes and from somewhere managed to draw together a last surge of power.
No liquid touched her skin. Nothing. She heard someone cough, then another, then suddenly the passage was filled with curses and exclamations. Opening her eyes, she blinked in amazement. The walls, the ceiling, and the novices were splattered with fine brown droplets. The novices were wiping at their hands and faces frantically. Some were spitting on the floor. Others were rubbing their eyes and one had begun to wail with pain.
Looking at Regin she saw that, being the closest, he had suffered the worst. His eyes were streaming, and his face was raw with red spots.
A strange feeling was bubbling up inside her. Realizing she was going to laugh, she covered her mouth. Hauling herself away from the wall, she swayed, then made herself straighten.
Don't let them see how tired I am, she thought. Don't give them time to get ideas of revenge into their heads.
She started walking through the group of novices. Regin's head snapped up. "Don't let her get away," he growled.
A few novices looked up, but the rest ignored him.
"Forget it. I'm getting these robes off now," one novice said. Others nodded, and began to move away. Regin blinked at them, his face darkening with fury, but he did not argue.
Sonea turned her back and forced her tired legs to carry her past the novices and away.
Chapter 32
A Little Side Trip
Rothen yawned as he climbed the stairs of the Magicians' Quarters. Even a cold bath hadn't done much to wake him up. He found Tania waiting for him in his guestroom, laying out plates of cakes and buns.
"Good morning, Tania," he said.
"You're a little late this morning, my lord," she replied.
"Yes." He rubbed his face, then started making sumi. Realizing she was still watching him, he sighed. "I've cut down to a tenth of the dosage."
She didn't say anything, just nodded approvingly. "I have some news." She paused, and when he gestured for her to continue, she grimaced apologetically. "You won't like it."
"Go on."
The University cleaners were complaining this morning that some foul-smelling liquid was splattered all over one of the passages. I asked them what they thought had happened, and they started grumbling about novices fighting each other. They were a bit reluctant to say which novices—reluctant to say in front of me, that is. So I bribed it out of one of the serving girls who had already heard the story.
"Regin has been gathering together other novices and waylaying Sonea at night. I asked Viola about it, and she said she hadn't seen anything to suggest that Sonea had been harmed at all."
Rothen frowned. "It would take a lot to wear Sonea out." He felt a spark of anger as he realized what this meant. "Once she had, though, Regin could do anything to her. She'd be too tired to even fight him off physically."
Tania drew in a sharp breath. "He wouldn't dare hurt her, would he?"
"Not in any way that would do lasting damage, or have him expelled." Rothen scowled at the table.
"Why doesn't the High Lord put a stop to it—or hasn't he heard about it? Perhaps you should tell him."
Rothen shook his head. "He knows. It's his place to know."
"But—" Tania stopped at a knock on the door. Relieved at the interruption, Rothen willed it open. A messenger stepped inside, bowed, and handed Rothen a letter, before retreating from the room again.
"It's for Sonea." Rothen turned the letter over and felt his heart skip. "It's from her aunt and uncle."
Tania moved closer. "Don't they know she isn't living in your rooms anymore?"
"No. Sonea thought Regin might get hold of her mail if it came to her in the Novices' Quarters, and she probably hasn't contacted them since she moved to the residence."
"Would you like me to take it to her?" Tania offered.
Rothen looked up, surprised. It was easy to forget that others had no reason to fear Akkarin. "Would you?"
"Of course. I haven't spoken to her in such a long time."
Akkarin might grow suspicious if he saw Rothen's servant delivering a message to Sonea, however. "She'll want to read this as soon as possible. If you deliver it to her room, she won't get it until tonight. I think she spends Freedays in the Novices' Library. Could you give it to Lady Tya?"
"Yes." Tania took the letter and slipped it into the front of her uniform. "I'll drop by the library after dropping these dishes off at the kitchen."
"Agh! My legs hurt!" Tayend complained.
Dannyl laughed quietly as the scholar collapsed onto a boulder to rest. "You wanted to visit the ruins. It wasn't my idea."
"But Dem Ladeiri made them sound so interesting." Tayend pulled out his flask and drank a few mouthfuls of water. "And closer."
"He just neglected to say we'd have to scale a few cliffs to get here. Or that the rope bridge wasn't safe."
"Well, I suppose he did tell us it had been a long time since he had come up here. Levitation must really come in handy at times."
"At times."
"Why aren't you breathing hard?"
Dannyl smiled. "Levitation isn't the only useful trick the Guild teaches us."
"You're healing yourself?" Tayend threw a small stone at him. "That's cheating!"
"Then I assume you would refuse my assistance if I offered it."
"No, I feel it would be only fair that I have the same advantage as you."
Dannyl sighed in mock resignation. "Give me your wrist, then." To his surprise, Tayend offered his arm without hesitation, but as Dannyl placed his palm against the scholar's skin, Tayend looked away and closed his eyes tightly.
Sending a little Healing magic into Tayend's body, Dannyl soothed the stressed muscles. Most Healers would frown at this waste of magic. There was nothing wrong with Tayend, he was simply unused to the strain of trekking across mountainous territory.
As Dannyl released Tayend's arm, the scholar stood and looked down at himself.
"That is amazing!" he exclaimed. "I feel like I did this morning, before we left." He grinned at Dannyl, then began striding up the path. "Come on, then. We haven't got all day."
Bemused, Dannyl followed. Only a few hundred paces on, Tayend reached a rise and slowed to a stop. As Dannyl caught up with the scholar, the ruins came into view. Spread over a gentle slope were low walls, marking the outlines of buildings. Here and there an ancient column had survived, and at the center of the small deserted city a larger, roofless structure still stood intact, its walls constructed of huge slabs of stone. Grass and other vegetation grew over and around everything.
"So this is Armje," Tayend muttered. "Not much left."
"It is over a thousand years old."
"Let's take a closer look."
The path, as it curved around to meet the city, widened into a grassy road. As it reached the first of the buildings it straightened, leading to the large building. Dannyl and Tayend paused to examine some of the exposed rooms of the smaller buildings.
"Do you think this was some kind of public washroom?" Tayend asked at one point, standing by a stone bench that had holes cut into it at regular intervals.
"Perhaps some kind of kitchen," Dannyl replied. "The holes might have held pots over a fire or brazier."
When they reached the large structure at the center, Dannyl noticed a stillness in the air. They passed beneath a heavy lintel into a wide room. The floor was hidden beneath dirt and waist-high grass and herbs.
"I wonder what this place was," Tayend mused aloud. "Something important. A palace, perhaps. Or a temple."
Moving into a smaller room, Tayend suddenly darted to one side. He peered at the wall, which was carved with a complex pattern.
"There are words in this," he said. "Something about laws."
Dannyl looked closer, th
en felt his heart skip a beat as he saw a carved hand. "Look."
"That's the glyph for magic," Tayend said dismissively.
"A hand is the sign for magic in ancient Elyne?"
"Yes—and it is in many ancient writings. Some scholars believe that the modern letter 'm' is derived from the symbol of a hand."
"So half of the Charkan King's title indicates magic. What does the crescent moon mean, then?"
Tayend shrugged and moved farther into the ruin. "Moon magic. Night magic. Does magic ever follow the cycles of the moon?"
"No."
"Perhaps it has something to do with women. Women's magic. Wait—look at this!"
Tayend had stopped before another carved wall. He was pointing at a section high up where some of the stone had fallen away, leaving only part of the carving behind. Then Dannyl drew in a sharp breath. The scholar wasn't pointing at one of the carved glyphs. He was pointing at a familiar name written in modern lettering.
"Dem Ladeiri didn't mention anything about Akkarin coming up here," Tayend said.
"Perhaps he forgot. Perhaps Akkarin didn't tell him."
"But he really wanted us to come here."
Dannyl stared at the name, then looked at the rest of the wall. "What does the ancient writing say?"
Tayend looked closer. "Give me a minute ..."
As the scholar examined the glyphs, Dannyl stepped back and looked around the room. Below Akkarin's name was a relief carving of an archway. Or was it? He scuffed the dirt and grass away from the base and smiled as he uncovered a crack.
Tayend drew in a sharp breath. "According to this, this is a—"
"Door," Dannyl finished.
"Yes!" Tayend tapped the wall. "And it leads to a place of judgment. I wonder if it can still be opened."
Looking at the door, Dannyl extended his senses. He detected a simple mechanism, designed to be opened from the inside only—or by magic.
"Stand back."
As Tayend moved out of the way, Dannyl exerted his will. The mechanism turned reluctantly, straining against the dirt, dust and grass clogging the doorway. A loud rumble and scraping noise filled the room as the stone door swivelled inward, revealing a dark passage.
Black Magician-02 The Novice Page 40
