"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned. "What happened?"
"I'm well." He let his hands drop and smiled wryly. "You pushed me right out of your mind. It's a natural reaction, and one you can learn to control. Don't worry, I'm used to it. I've taught many novices before."
She nodded and rubbed her hands. "Do you want to try again?"
He shook his head. "Not now. We'll rest and work on your reading. Perhaps we'll try again this afternoon."
Chapter 20
The Guild's Prisoner
Cery yawned. Since Sonea had been taken, sleep had become a coy thing. It evaded him when he needed it, and stalked him when he didn't. Right now, he needed to be more awake than he had ever been before.
A freezing wind whipped the trees and hedges, filling the air with noise and the occasional twig or leaf. The cold crept into his muscles, making them cramp. Shifting his weight carefully, he stretched and rubbed first one leg, then the other.
Looking up at the window again, he decided that if he thought "look outside" any harder his head was going to explode. Obviously Sonea's talent for sensing minds didn't extend to detecting unexpected visitors outside her window.
He regarded the snowballs he had made, and doubt returned. If he threw one at her window it would have to hit it loud enough to wake her, but not loud enough to attract anyone else's attention. He had no idea if she was still in the room, or if she was alone.
A light had been on when he had first arrived, but it was extinguished soon after. The windows on the left of hers were dark, but those on the right still glowed. He looked nervously at the University building towering to his left. The windows were dark. Since the first night when he had glimpsed Sonea, Cery had seen no sign of the mysterious watcher.
Somewhere in the corner of his eye, a light blinked out. He looked up at the magicians' building. The light in the rooms beside Sonea's had vanished. Cery smiled grimly and massaged his numb legs. Just a little longer ...
When a pale face appeared at the window he thought, for a moment, that he had fallen asleep and was dreaming. He watched, heart pounding, as Sonea peered down at the gardens, then looked up at the University.
Then she moved out of sight.
All weariness was gone. Cery's fingers closed around a snowball. His legs protested as he wriggled out of the hedge. He took aim and, as the snowball left his fingers, ducked back into the hedge.
The faintest thud reached his ears as the snowball struck the window. His heart sang with triumph as Sonea's face appeared again. She stared at the splash of frost on the glass, and she looked out at the garden again.
Checking the other windows, Cery saw no other watchers. He wriggled out of the hedge a little, and saw Sonea's eyes widen as she spotted him. Surprise was followed by a wide grin.
He waved, then signalled a question to her. She returned with a "yes." No harm had been done to her. He breathed a sigh of relief.
The Thieves' code of signals was limited to simple meanings like "ready?," "now," "wait," "get out of here," and the usual "yes" and "no." There was no sign for "I'm about to rescue you. Is the window locked?" He pointed to himself, then made climbing movements, mimed opening the window, pointed at her, then himself, and finished with the sign for "get out of here."
She returned with "wait," then pointed at herself, signed "get out of here," and shook her head.
He frowned. Though she knew more than most dwells about the Thieves' signals, she had never been as well versed as he was. She could be telling him that she wasn't allowed to leave, or that she didn't want to leave now, or that he should return later in the night. He scratched his head, then signalled "get out of here" then "now."
She shook her head, then something to his left caught her attention and her eyes widened. Moving away from the window a little, she began signalling "get out of here" over and over. Cery crouched and retreated into the hedge, hoping the wind would hide the rustle of leaves.
No footsteps reached his ears, and he began to wonder what had spooked her, then warm air slid over his skin, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
"Come out," a cultured voice said, uncomfortably close. "I know you're in there."
Looking through the hedge, Cery could see the soft folds of robes only an arm's reach away. A hand snaked through the leaves. Cery twisted away, pushing out of the hedge and pressing himself against the building, his heart racing. The magician straightened quickly. Knowing that he was in full sight, Cery bolted along the side of the building toward the forest.
Something slammed into his back and he pitched forward into the snow. A weight held him there, pressing so firmly he could hardly breathe and the chill of the snow burned his face. He heard footsteps approaching and felt panic rising.
Calm. Stay calm, he told himself. You've never heard of them killing intruders ... You've never heard of them finding intruders either...
The crushing pressure eased. As he pushed himself to his hands and knees, Cery felt a hand grip his arm. It pulled him to his feet and dragged him through the hedge to the path.
Looking up, he turned cold as he recognized the magician.
The magician's eyes narrowed. "You look familiar ... Ah, now I remember. The filthy dwell that tried to strike me." He glanced back at Sonea's window and smirked. "So Sonea has an admirer. How sweet."
He regarded Cery thoughtfully and a gleam crept into his eyes. "What am I going to do with you, then? I believe intruders are usually questioned and then escorted out of the Guild. We best get started then."
Cery struggled as the magician began to pull him along the path toward the University. The magician's thin hand was surprisingly strong.
"Let me go!" Cery demanded.
The magician sighed. "If you insist on jerking my arm like that, I will be forced to use less physical means to hold you. Please cooperate. I am as anxious to see this business finished as I am sure you are."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Out of this noisy wind for a start." They reached the end of the magicians' building, and started toward the University.
"Lord Fergun."
The magician stopped and looked over his shoulder. Two robed shadows were approaching. Feeling a sudden tension in his captor's grip, Cery was not sure whether to be relieved or worried about the newcomers. Obviously, Fergun didn't welcome their intrusion.
"Administrator," Fergun said. "How fortunate. I was just coming to rouse you. I have discovered an intruder. He appears to have been attempting to reach the slum girl."
"So I have been told," the taller newcomer glanced at his companion.
"Will you question him?" Fergun sounded hopeful, yet his grip on Cery's arm tightened.
"Yes," the tall magician replied. He made a lazy gesture, and a ball of light flared into existence above them.
Cery felt warmth slide over him and the wind disappeared. Looking around, he could still see trees twisting about, but the three magicians stood undisturbed.
In the strong light, the magicians' robes were brightly colored. The tall magician wore blue, his companion, an older man, wore purple, and Cery's captor wore red. The tall magician looked down at Cery and smiled faintly.
"Do you want to talk to Sonea, Cery?"
Cery blinked in surprise, then frowned. How did this magician know his name?
Sonea must have told him. If she had wanted to warn Cery, she would have given them another name ... unless they had tricked it out of her, or read it from her mind, or ...
What did it matter? They had caught him. If they intended to do him harm, he was doomed anyway. He may as well see Sonea.
He nodded. The tall magician looked at Fergun. "Let him go."
Fergun's grip tightened before his fingers uncurled from Cery's arm. The blue-robed magician gestured for Cery to follow, then started toward the magicians' building.
The doors opened before them. Aware of the two magicians pacing behind like guards, Cery followed the tall magician up a short flight of sta
irs to the upper floor. They strode down a wide corridor to one of many plain doors. The older magician stepped forward to touch the handle, and the door swung inward.
Inside was a luxurious room with cushioned chairs and fine furniture. In one of the chairs sat Sonea. When she saw Cery, she smiled.
"Go on," the blue-robed magician said. Heart still racing, Cery stepped into the room. As the door closed, he looked back and wondered if he had just walked into a trap.
"Cery," Sonea breathed. "It's so good to see you." He turned to study her. She smiled again, but it quickly disappeared.
"Sit down, Cery. I asked Rothen to let me talk to you. I told him you would keep trying to rescue me unless I explained why I can't leave." She pointed to a seat.
He sat down reluctantly. "Why can't you leave?" She sighed. "I don't know if I can tell you in a way that makes sense." She leaned back in the chair. "Magicians have to be taught how to control magic, and only another magician can teach it, because it has to be taught mind to mind. If they don't learn to control it, the magic works whenever the magician feels something. The magic takes simple, dangerous forms, always stronger as it grows. Eventually ..." She grimaced. "I... I nearly died the day they found me, Cery. They saved me."
Cery shivered. "I saw it, Sonea. The buildings - they're gone."
"It would have been worse if they hadn't found me. People would have been killed. Lots of people."
He looked down at his hands. "So you can't come home." She chuckled, a sound so unexpectedly cheerful that he stared at her in astonishment.
"I'll be fine," she told him. "Once I've learned Control I won't be in danger anymore. I'm getting to know how things work here." She gave him a wink. "So where are you hanging out now?"
He grinned. "Same old place. Best bolhouse in the slums."
She nodded. "And your... friend? Is he still giving you work?"
"Yes." Cery shook his head. "But maybe not once he finds out what I did tonight."
As she considered that, the familiar lines of worry appeared between her brows. He felt something squeeze his heart so tightly it hurt. Clenching his fists, he looked away. He wanted to pour out all the guilt and fear he'd felt since her capture, but the thought that others might be listening kept the words choked within his throat.
Looking at the luxuries of the room, he consoled himself that she was being treated well, at least. She yawned. It was late, he remembered.
"I guess I had better go." He rose, then stopped, not wanting to leave her.
She smiled, this time sadly. "Tell everyone I'm well."
"I will."
He couldn't move. Her smile faded a little as he stared at her, then she waved toward the door. "I'll be fine, Cery. Trust me. Go on."
Somehow he made himself walk to the door and knock. It swung inward. The three magicians regarded him closely as he stepped into the corridor.
"Shall I escort our visitor to the gate?" Fergun offered.
"Yes, thank you," the blue-robed magician replied.
A globe of light appeared above Fergun's head. He looked at Cery expectantly. Glancing back at the blue-robed magician, Cery hesitated.
"Thanks."
The magician nodded once in reply. Turning away, Cery started toward the stairs, the blonde magician following.
He considered Sonea's words as he descended. Her signals made sense now. She had to wait until she had learned to control her magic, but once she had she would try to escape. He could do little to help her, except make sure she had a secure place to return to.
"Are you Sonea's husband?"
Cery glanced up at the magician in surprise.
"No."
"Her, ah ... lover, then?"
Cery felt his cheeks warming. He looked away. "No, just a friend."
"I see. It was very heroic of you to come here."
Deciding that he didn't need to reply to that, Cery stepped out of the magicians' building into the cold wind, and turned toward the garden. Fergun stopped.
"Wait. Let me take you through the University. It is a warmer journey."
His heart skipped. The University.
He had always wanted to see inside the great building. Such an opportunity would never come again once Sonea escaped. Shrugging as if it made no difference to him, he started toward the back entrance of the enormous building.
His heart began to race as they climbed the stairs. They entered a room full of elaborately decorated staircases. The magician's light vanished as he directed Cery through a side door and into a wide corridor which seemed to extend for an eternity.
Doors and passages lined the walls on either side. Looking around, Cery could not find the source of light. It was as if the walls themselves glowed.
"Sonea was quite a surprise to us," Fergun said suddenly, his voice echoing. "We have never found any talent in the lower classes before. It's normally restricted to the Houses."
Fergun looked at Cery expectantly, obviously expecting conversation.
"It gave her a surprise, too," Cery replied.
"This way." The magician guided Cery into one of the side passages. "Have you ever heard of other dwells with magic?"
"No."
They turned a corner, pushed through a door into a small room, then stepped through another door into a slightly wider corridor. Unlike the earlier passages, the walls were panelled with wood, and paintings hung at regular intervals.
"It's quite a maze in here," Fergun said, sighing a little. "Come, I'll take you through a shortcut."
He stopped beside a painting and reached behind it. A section of the wall slid aside, revealing a rectangle of darkness the size of a narrow doorway. Cery looked at the magician questioningly.
"I've always loved secrets," Fergun said, his eyes bright. "Does it surprise you that we, too, have underground passages? This one comes out in the Inner Circle - a dry, windless journey. Shall we?"
Cery looked at the doorway, then at the magician. Passages under the Guild? This was too strange. He stepped back and shook his head.
"I've seen plenty of passages before," he said, "and I don't mind the cold. The pretty things in this building are more interesting."
The magician closed his eyes and nodded. "I see." He straightened and smiled. "Well, it's good to know you don't mind the cold."
Something pressed on Cery's back, forcing him toward the rectangle. He yelled and grabbed the edges of the hole, but the push was too strong and his fingers slipped on the polished wood. Falling forward, he brought his hands up in time to protect his face as he slammed into a wall.
The force held him firmly against the bricks. He could not even move a finger. Heart racing madly, he cursed himself for trusting the magicians. He heard a click behind him. The secret doorway had closed.
"Yell now if you want." Fergun chuckled, a low, nasty sound. "Nobody comes down here, so you won't bother anyone."
A piece of cloth dropped over Cery's eyes and was bound tightly. His hands were pulled together behind his back, and bound with more cloth. As the pressure against his back eased, a hand gripped his collar and shoved him forward.
Cery staggered down the passage. After a few steps he reached a steep stairway. He felt his way down, then the guiding hands pushed him along a route that twisted lazily.
The temperature of the air dropped rapidly. After a few hundred steps, Fergun halted. Cery's stomach sank as he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock.
The blindfold was pulled away. Cery found himself standing at the door of a large, empty room. The cloth about his wrists was untied.
"In you go."
Cery looked at Fergun. His hands itched for his knives, but he knew he would only lose them if he tried to fight the magician. If he didn't walk into the room himself, Fergun would push him.
Slowly, numbly, he entered the cell. The door swung shut, leaving him standing in darkness. He heard the lock turn, then the muffled sound of footsteps moving away.
Sighing, he dropped to his haunches.
Faren was going to be furious.
Chapter 21
A Promise of Freedom
As he hurried along the corridor of the Magicians' Quarters, Rothen received more than a few inquiring looks from the magicians he passed. He nodded to some, and smiled at those he was most familiar with, but did not slow his stride. Reaching the door to his rooms, he grasped the handle and willed the lock to release.
As the door opened, he heard two voices from the guestroom within.
"- my father was a servant of Lord Margen, Lord Rothen's mentor. My grandfather worked here too."
"You must have many relations here."
"A few," Tania agreed. "But many of them have left to take up positions in the Houses."
The two women were sitting beside each other on the chairs. Seeing him, Tania leapt to her feet, her face flushed.
"Don't let me interrupt," Rothen said, waving a hand.
Tania bowed her head. "I have not yet finished my work, my Lord," she told him. Her face still glowing, she hastened away into his bedroom. Sonea watched, clearly amused.
- She's not afraid of me anymore, I think.
Rothen considered his servant as she reappeared with a bundle of clothes and bedding under her arm.
- No. You two are getting along well.
Pausing, Tania gave Rothen a hard look, then glanced at Sonea speculatively.
- Can she tell that we're talking like this? Sonea asked.
- She sees our expressions changing. You don't have to be around magicians for long to know this is a sure sign that a silent discussion is taking place.
"Excuse us, Tania," Rothen said aloud. Tania's brows rose, but she gave a little shrug and dropped the bundle of clothes into a basket.
"Is that all, Lord Rothen?"
"Yes, thank you, Tania."
Rothen waited until the door had closed behind the servant, then sat down beside Sonea. "It's probably about time I told you that it's not considered polite to communicate mind to mind while others are present, especially if they haven't the ability to join in. It's like whispering behind someone's back."
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