“Honestly,” Maya was saying to Vannor in a loud voice as they left, for the benefit of anyone who might be curious. “She’s told him time and again about drinking so much!”
Aurian was relieved when they finally reached the door to Forral’s quarters. D’arvan’s breathing was becoming more and more labored, although, since he had managed to get from the Academy to the Unicorn, she didn’t think the wound was too serious. She had acted decisively in the tavern, getting him away before the other customers harf time to become curious, but now the shock was taking its toll, and she was weary from half dragging D’arvan through streets filled with slippery slush, taking a circuitous route through the back lanes to avoid the stares of passers-by.
“Aurian! What the bloody blazes has happened?” A tired-looking Forral opened the door, his mouth slack with astonishment. Without answering, Aurian helped Anvar to lay D’arvan on the couch. Forral put his arms around her, and she relaxed for a moment, leaning against his shoulder. “Are you all right, love?” he asked her, and she pulled herself upright and kissed him, glad that he was there.
“I am, but D’arvan isn’t,” she said. “He’s been hurt. Forral, will you light another lamp and get us all some wine while I see to him? Anvar will tell you what happened.”
Sitting on the edge of the couch, Aurian pulled away the torn remains of D’arvan’s robes to expose his back, feeling a mixture of relief and consternation. The wound was a long slice, bloody but shallow—and it had obviously been done with a knife. It wasn’t serious, thank the Gods—but who in the world had tried to stab the Mage? Aurian was well aware that most of the Magefolk were unpopular with the city’s inhabitants, but this was unthinkable!
By now, Aurian was well advanced in the skills of Healing. As she concentrated her powers, the wound was suffused by a faint violet-blue glow, and she had the satisfaction of seeing the sundered tissues start to knit before her eyes as the bleeding stopped and the gash began to close. As D’arvan’s pain ceased, she felt his body relax beneath her hands, and his eyes flickered open. She helped him to a sitting position, and Forral handed him a cup of wine.
Just then the Cavalrymaster entered with Maya, “Don’t worry,” Parric assured Aurian. “Whoever attacked him, they didn’t follow you here.”
“Is he all right?” Maya asked anxiously. “Has he told you how it happened?”
“Not yet.” The Mage frowned. “I’m just about to ask him.” D’arvan’s fine-boned face was even paler than usual, but he was conscious, and seemed fairly alert. “You’ll want to sleep,” Aurian told him, “but drink your wine, before you rest.” She sat down beside him, gratefully taking a goblet of wine from Forral, “You’re safe now,” she said, “We’re in the Garrison. D’arvan—can you tell me what happened?”
D’arvan shuddered. “Miathan,” he whispered, “He sent for me. He said that I was never going to be any use, and told me to get out of the Academy,” His hands trembled so that wine slopped out of the cup. “He had the guards throw me out of the top gate. I—I didn’t know what to do; so I was coming to find you. Then, as I was crossing the causeway, Davorshan—my own brother—leapt out from behind the wall and tried to stab me.”
Aurian caught her breath. Davorshan? A Mage attacking another Mage? Brother against brother? One thing was certain, she thought grimly. Eliseth was behind this, somehow.
“I knew he was there,” D’arvan went on. “We’re so closely linked, it saved me. I saw my murder in his mind, and I dodged, but the knife caught me, then we struggled and I managed to get away. The guards at the lower gate heard the disturbance, and he had to stop to talk to them. Aurian—how could he do this?” He dropped the cup, burying his face in his hands.
Aurian put her arms around him, “You say you knew his mind,” she prompted gently, when he became calmer. “Do you know why he did it?”
D’arvan nodded. “He—he’s been working with Eliseth, and making some progress with Water-magic,” he said, “He had decided that we must have only enough power for one Mage between us, and since Miathan had banished me, he could kill me so that all the power would be his.”
“But that’s ridiculous!”
“I don’t think so,” D’arvan said. “I’ve suspected as much myself. It’s the only explanation. We’ve been tangling up this power between us, but since Davorshan discovered where his skills lay, he’s been able to reach some of it. Maybe I could, if I had any talents, but I’ve tried everything—”
“Wait a minute!” Aurian sat up abruptly, “No you haven’t! Gods take me for a fool, why didn’t we think of it sooner? You haven’t tried Earth-magic, for the simple reason that there’s no one at the Academy who teaches it. D’arvan, we’ll send you to my mother! No one will know where you are, so you’ll be safe. Eilin can shield you, and she’ll teach you. And it would be a great help for her. She won’t admit it, but she desperately needs some company.”
“But I’m not sure , . .” D’arvan began doubtfully,
“Oh, nonsense. You have to try, don’t you see? At least you’ll know for certain. And you can’t let that brother of yours get away with this without a fight!”
“Well . . . I’ve always liked plants and things . . .”
“Of course you have,” Aurian noticed that D’arvan’s eyelids were drooping, “Look, get some rest now, I’ll get a blanket and you can sleep on the couch. You’ll be safe here, and in a day or so we’ll see about smuggling you out of the city. At all costs, the other Magefolk mustn’t find out where you are.”
“I’ll send Maya with him,” Forral suggested. “She’ll see that he gets there safely.”
“Of course I’ll go,” Maya said. Stooping, she embraced the young Mage. “Don’t you worry,” she told him. “We’ll take care of you.”
When Maya and Parric had gone to their beds, Aurian and Forral stood with their arms around each other, looking down at the sleeping Mage. Now that D’arvan was asleep, Aurian could no longer contain her rage at the way he had been treated. “Forral, I don’t like what’s happening. Nothing’s as it should be anymore at the Academy, and as for Miathan—well, after the way he treated Anvar, and—and now this. . .” Still she couldn’t bring herself to tell Forral about the Archmage’s attack on her. But her decision had crystallized. “Forral, I’ve had enough! I’m sick of the Academy—and the Magefolk, most of them. We have so many powers, but we never think of using them to help people! Think of the good we could have done, if my people had not been so arrogant and self-absorbed. I want to leave—to find my own way in the world. And I want to be with you—all the time, not just for these snatched moments!”
Forral looked at her gravely. “Maybe you’re right,” he said softly. “I’ve felt this way about the Magefolk for so long— Gods, if it hadn’t been for you, I’d have left long ago. Of course we can go, love. But we’ll have to make our plans carefully, and we must flee fast and far to escape Miathan. He won’t let you go easily!”
“We must take Anvaf with us, too,” Aurian said urgently. She looked around at her servant, who had fallen asleep in a chair. “At least we can give him back his freedom.” Gently, so as not to wake him, she covered him with another blanket from Forral’s bedchamber.
“We could all do with some sleep,” Forral suggested. “Once D’arvan and Maya are safely on their way, we’ll be able to make some plans of our own.” He yawned. “Come on, love. Come to bed. We’re too tired to think straight—and I want my wits about me tomorrow. I have another wrangle to face in Council with that bloody Archmage—can you believe he wants to raise the sewer tax again? He won’t be satisfied until he’s bled this city dry. If this is to be my last fight with him, I mean to make it a good one—especially after what I’ve seen tonight!”