Achati frowned thoughtfully. “Eventually there will be too many mouths to feed. They will starve.” He smiled. “So maybe the king is right after all.”
“Only if the Traitors remain hidden.”
“You think they’ll be forced to come out? To come begging for food?”
“Or they’ll choose to reveal themselves in other ways. How strong is your army?”
Achati snorted derisively. “Most likely a hundred times bigger and stronger than theirs. We know their base is in the mountains, where the land is harsh and infertile. They could not feed a population to match the rest of the country, so I doubt their army is the same size or larger than ours.”
Dannyl nodded in agreement. “Which is why they use cunning, secretive methods. I wonder... do you think they could overthrow the country merely by assassinating and manipulating the right people?”
Achati’s expression became serious. “It is possible, but if they could have done it before now, surely they would have.”
“The perfect opportunity may not have presented itself yet. It may require some new and extraordinary factor.”
Achati’s eyebrows rose. “Like the chance to abduct the son of a powerful Guild magician?”
“Do you think that would be extraordinary enough?”
“No.” He shook his head and smiled. “Manipulating Kyralia and Sachaka into a war would be too risky. What if Kyralia won? What if we resisted their manipulations, joined forces and attacked the Traitors together? The Guild may prove better at hunting them than we are.” He paused. “Which reminds me. Has the Guild responded to the news of Lorkin’s abduction yet?”
“No,” Dannyl looked away. I’m not going to be able to put this off any longer. Achati will start wondering why they’re taking so long. “That reminds me – I should check on their progress.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Achati rose. “It’s late and I should get some rest. Tell me what they say in the morning.”
“I will.”
As the door to the Sachakan’s room closed, Dannyl reached into his robe and drew out Administrator Osen’s blood ring. He stared at it, running through his mind all the ways he’d considered phrasing the bad news, and choosing what he hoped was the best.
Then he slipped on the ring.
As Sonea opened the door to her rooms, she was surprised to find Administrator Osen standing outside with one hand raised ready to knock. The startled look on his face faded and he straightened.
“Black Magician Sonea,” he said. “I must speak with you.”
“It’s lucky we caught you before you left for the hospices,” another voice added.
She turned to see Rothen standing behind and to one side of the Administrator. At once she felt her stomach sink and her heart start to race. There’s that look again. Something’s happened to Lorkin...
“Come in,” she said, stepping back and beckoning impatiently.
Osen strode inside, followed by Rothen. She closed the door and turned to stare at the Administrator expectantly. He regarded her soberly.
“I must inform you that your son has...” Osen paused and frowned. “I’m not sure what to call it. It appears Lorkin has been abducted.”
Sonea’s legs lost all strength and she felt herself sway a little. Rothen took a step toward her, but she gestured for him to stop. She drew in a deep breath, forced herself to stand firmly and turned back to Osen.
“Abducted?” she repeated.
“Yes. By a young female magician posing as a slave. Ambassador Dannyl believes there is a possibility your son went willingly, but he’s not certain of it.”
“Ah.” A traitorous and seductive relief trickled through Sonea. Women. Why is it always women with Lorkin? She felt her heart slow to a calmer rhythm. “So this is more of a matter of social impropriety than impending and certain death?”
“We certainly hope so. But it is more complicated than that. It seems we are not the only people with an underground, secret and not entirely lawful society, and they may be involved.”
“Criminals?”
Osen shook his head. “Ambassador Dannyl described them as rebels. They call themselves the Traitors. It is rumoured that they are all women.” Osen’s eyebrows rose, hinting that he thought this unlikely. “They are also magicians – black magicians. The woman who abducted Lorkin is one. She killed another slave the same night and drained her of power. Dannyl is not sure whether the abductor is the Traitor and the slave just got in her way, or the dead slave was a Traitor and the abductor is not. Either way, the Traitors have indicated that they want her and Lorkin found, and apparently they have such influence that this makes the likeliness of that happening very good.”
Sonea took a moment to absorb that. “So when was Lorkin taken away?”
“Three nights ago.”
Sonea’s heart stopped. “Three nights! Why wasn’t I told immediately!”
“You are being told immediately.” Osen smiled wryly. “When I impressed upon the new Ambassador that he only contact me in the gravest of emergencies, he took me far too seriously. He expected to find Lorkin quickly, and only told me of the situation tonight.”
“I’ll kill him,” she muttered, moving away to pace the room. “If this woman is a black magician – do they have any other kind over there? – how is Dannyl going to force her to give Lorkin back?”
“He has the assistance of the Sachakan king’s representative.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be found? Who knows what she’ll do to survive? Threaten to kill Lorkin?” Sonea stopped, suddenly out of breath. She felt as if her lungs weren’t expelling as much air as she was drawing in. Her head was starting to spin. Grabbing the back of a chair, she forced herself to breathe slowly. When her head had cleared she turned to Osen. “I have to go there. I have to be there when they find him.”
Osen’s expression had been open and sympathetic. Now it closed in and became hard.
“You know you can’t do that,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling a deep fury rising. “Who would dare stop me?”
“The Guild must have two black magicians present at all times,” he reminded her. “The king will never allow you to leave Imardin, let alone Kyralia.”
“This is my son!” she snapped.
“And the Sachakan king might not appreciate us sending – or allowing – you into his country,” Osen continued, “making a politically dangerous situation worse, and implying his people can’t sort something like this out for themselves.”
“And what if they ca—”
“Lorkin isn’t stupid, Sonea,” Rothen interrupted quietly. “And neither is Dannyl.”
She stared at him, struggling to hold back a surge of hurt and anger that he was arguing against her. But if Rothen doesn’t think I should go...
“I don’t believe Lorkin would have gone with this woman if there hadn’t been a good reason.”
“What if that reason was he had no choice?” she argued.
“Then we must trust Dannyl. You know he would have told us straightaway if the situation was truly grim. If Lorkin is a hostage, then you will not be able to do more for him than Dannyl. Dannyl has experience at negotiation. He has the help of the Sachakans.” His voice hardened. “If you barge in there you could make the situation much worse, not just for Lorkin but for Kyralia and Sachaka.”
Suddenly she felt weak and drained. Helpless. What is the use of all this power if I can’t use it to save my own son?
But perhaps he doesn’t need saving, a faint voice said somewhere in the back of her mind.
Osen sighed. “I’m afraid I must forbid you to leave, Black Magician Sonea. Or to speak of this to anyone but myself, the king, High Lord Balkan and Lord Rothen.”