“Not even Akkarin’s family?”
He shook his head. “Not even them. As Lorkin’s mother you have a right to know what is happening, and I will keep you informed of the situation. I will be discussing ways that we may assist Lord Dannyl with High Lord Balkan tonight, including sending someone to help him. If we do that, I will let you know as many details as it is safe to reveal.”
You had better, she thought. “I will look forward to regular reports,” she said stiffly.
He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Good night, Black Magician Sonea.”
She followed him to the door, opening it with magic. Before he stepped out, he nodded politely to her. Then he was gone and she shut the door on the sound of his footsteps striding away down the corridor.
She turned to Rothen.
“I’m going anyway,” she told him, then headed for her bedroom. A small trunk sat upon the clothes cabinet. She lifted it with magic and set it on the floor.
“You won’t be let back in a second time,” Rothen told her, from the doorway.
She moved to the cupboard and opened it. It was full of black robes. “I don’t care. I’ll find Lorkin, then we’ll go travelling. It’ll be their loss, not mine.”
“I didn’t mean the Guild. I mean the country. The Allied Lands.”
“I know. There are lands beyond the Allied ones, you know.”
“Yes. But while the Guild can train another black magician to replace you, you will not find another Guild to replace it. You may not care about that, but will Lorkin?”
She was still staring at the robes. They were not what a magician ought to wear when casting off the shackles of the Guild. She wasn’t sure what a magician ought to wear when rebelling and storming out of the country, only that these were definitely not appropriate. But they were all she had.
I can’t believe I’m worrying about clothing right now!
“You need to find the rogue, Sonea.”
“Regin can find her.”
“Cery doesn’t trust him.”
“I don’t blame him,” she muttered. “Cery will have to make do.”
Rothen sighed. “Sonea.” His voice now had a fatherly, stern tone.
She crossed her arms, put on her best don’t-mess-with-me-I’ve-faced-worse-than-you-and-won stare, which made novices flinch and magicians reconsider their words, and turned to face him. “What?”
As always, he remained unaffected.
“You know you can’t go,” he told her. “You know you will more likely make Lorkin’s situation worse than better, and that after this is over he’ll need a safe, secure Guild to return to – with his mother in it.”
She stared at him, then cursed.
“Why are you always right, Rothen?”
He shrugged. “I’m older and smarter than you. Now, you and I need to discuss and make less obvious and destructive plans. For a start, I think we should send someone to Sachaka to act on our behalf.”
“Who?”
He smiled. “I have a few people in mind. Come sit down and I’ll tell you.”
Chapter 21
Welcome Assistance
The stream did not look healthy, even in the soft light of approaching dawn. A mere trickle winding sluggishly along a shallow ditch, it was fringed with green slime and smelled of mould and rotten vegetation. Tyvara was unperturbed. She dropped into a squat and scooped up a palmful of water.
Lorkin watched her stare at it for a moment, then gulp it down.
“You’ll make yourself sick,” he told her.
She looked up at him. “Don’t worry. I’m stripping it first.”
“Stripping?”
“Drawing out all the life within it. It’s still gritty with sediment, but that’s unpleasant, not dangerous. This is much faster and more efficient than what you do, since I’m taking energy, not using it. Are you going to drink? We can’t be sure when we’ll find water again.”
Lorkin looked at her hands, still dirty from the water. “I thought blood was the only substance magic can be drawn through.”
She smiled and scooped up more water. “You know that humans and most animals have a layer of magical protection that naturally sits about the skin?”
“Yes.”
“To reach past it you must break it, and the simplest way is by cutting the skin. Naturally that results in bleeding, so people think the blood is essential. It isn’t.” Her voice grew husky as she spoke. It had been too long since they’d found water. She paused to stare at the liquid cupped in her hands, then drank, before looking up at him again. “There are tiny forms of life in water – you can sense it even when you can’t see it – and they’re what make you sick. But they don’t seem to have a layer of protection, so it’s easy to draw their energy. You wouldn’t want to rely on such a feeble source, though.” She looked down. “Plants seem to have a weaker protection than animals. It’s possible to draw their power without cutting them, though it is slow and there’s so little to gain you wouldn’t bother.” She reached for another palmful of water.
Lorkin sighed and sat down. He drew magic and gathered up a cup’s worth of water from the stream, holding it within an invisible globe of force. The liquid was cloudy and unappealing. Sending out more magic, he heated the water until it boiled.
In Healing classes, where purifying water was taught, he’d been told it was best to boil the water for several minutes. But soon Tyvara had finished drinking and was watching him expectantly, obviously anxious to move on. He stopped heating the water and let it cool to a temperature he could bear to touch and drink. Thankfully by then the grit in the water had settled to the bottom, and he was able to scoop the cleaner water from the top. A few gulps later he was done, and they rose to their feet. Rays of sunlight were streaking through the tops of the trees that surrounded them. He hadn’t realised dawn had been so close.
“Where next?” Lorkin asked.
“Into the forest. I thought you’d appreciate sleeping above ground.”
He grimaced. Though they’d slept in a hole underground each day for several days, he had grown no more comfortable with the knowledge that he was one magical barrier away from being buried alive. “I certainly would.”
“Come on then.”
Stepping off the road, she led the way into the trees, and Lorkin followed. At first he stumbled over obstacles, dodging branches that Tyvara pushed out of her way which then sprang back at him, his thin shoes catching on rocks and the uneven ground threatening to unbalance him. It took all his concentration to avoid tripping over. Tyvara drew further and further ahead, until she noticed he was falling behind and stopped to wait for him to catch up.
“Have you ever been in a forest before?” she asked.
“Yes. There’s one in the Guild Grounds, but it has pathways.”
“Ever left Imardin before this?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Because my mother isn’t allowed to leave the city. But he couldn’t tell her that without explaining why, and he wasn’t supposed to reveal how few Kyralians knew black magic or how it was regarded.
“Never had reason to.”
She shook her head in disbelief, then turned and continued through the forest. This time she appeared to choose her steps more carefully, and their path became much easier. Then he realised that it was a path. A very narrow path, but clearly someone or something had come this way often enough to wear a track in the undergrowth.