“We’ll stay with two other country lords as we pass through their leys. Otherwise we’ll stop overnight in whatever town we manage to reach, with the town master. In Imardin we’ll stay with a friend of mine, Lord Everran, and his wife Lady Avaria. He inherited one of the city’s great Houses – a rather large half-empty building. They’re both magicians – you may find it interesting to talk to another female magician, though Lady Avaria will probably be more interested in taking you round the shops in the city, and visiting her friends, each of whom will encourage you to spend all the allowance I give you, and more.”
Tessia’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to—”
“Oh, believe me, I do,” he told her, “or I will never hear the end of it from Avaria. Besides, I could hardly give Jayan a little spending money without doing you the same favour.” He turned to look at Jayan. The young man shrugged.
“Anything you wish to ask?”
Jayan shook his head, then hesitated. “Is there any more wine?”
Dakon laughed and reached for the bottle. “I’m sure we’ll get one half-glass each from what’s left. Then perhaps we can share a few of our travel stories.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Jayan asked, glancing at Tessia. “We don’t want to make her wish she wasn’t coming.”
Dakon waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing has ever happened that was truly dangerous or unpleasant.”
“No?” Jayan asked, his expression clearly showing his disagreement.
“Nothing that didn’t make for a good story afterwards, that is.”
As Tessia’s eyebrows rose, Dakon grinned. “Well, there was that time I was helping Jayan practise making fireballs...”
Tessia slipped through the main door of Lord Dakon’s house into the well-lit greeting hall. Lately the magician had insisted she use the front entrance, pointing out that he and Jayan used it, and the villagers would think he was neglecting to grant her the full benefits of her new status if she kept using the servants’ door.
Everything was much fancier in this part of the house. A staircase wide enough for two or three people to ascend together, with gracefully carved railings, led up to the next floor. Broad openings on either side beckoned visitors into side corridors, from which they could access the dining room and a formal seating room.
As Tessia closed the door a head appeared from within one of the corridors. Keron smiled and nodded politely, and his head withdrew again. Tessia crossed to the stairs.
At the top of the staircase she paused. Dakon had suggested she have her last dinner before leaving Mandryn with her parents. Veran and Lasia had expressed their excitement over her coming journey in their individual ways, her mother exclaiming with delight and her father quietly giving advice on how to behave in the city. It had been nice, but exhausting. She was tempted to slip up to her room and bed.
Light spilled out of the library doorway and voices drifted to her ears. Tessia found herself moving towards the door instead of heading to her room. She doubted she would fall asleep despite her weariness. More likely she would lie awake, as she had the last two nights, thinking about the journey ahead, and what might happen in the city. Dakon might have last-moment instructions, too.
When she stepped into the doorway, Dakon and Jayan looked up. Both held books, she saw, but from the chatter she’d heard she guessed they had stopped to talk. The magician smiled, but a frown, quickly smoothed away, creased the apprentice’s brow.
“Ah, Tessia,” Dakon said. “How was your evening with your parents?”
“Good, Lord Dakon. They had a lot of advice.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure how useful it will be, even if it was given with the best of intentions.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure it was. Your mother hasn’t visited Imardin, has she?”
“No. Father has, but not for over ten years. That seems to bother him now. I fear you have put ideas into his head.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I should have invited him to join us. I expect it’s too late for that now.”
She caught her breath. It would have been wonderful to travel to Imardin with her father. He would have enjoyed it, she was sure. But it was likely he would have turned down the opportunity, not wanting to leave the village without a healer.
A short silence followed. She searched for something to say.
“Is there anything else to be done before we leave in the morning?”
Dakon shook his head, but his expression as he regarded her was thoughtful. “There is one matter.” He paused. “Now that you have gained control of your power, it is time we began the ritual of higher magic.”
Tessia blinked, then felt a thrill of both excitement and dread.
“Tonight?” She felt her heartbeat quicken. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“Well then.” She moved into the room. “How does it... work?”
“Perhaps it would be easier to show her,” Jayan suggested. Tessia started in surprise. She had almost forgotten he was there.
Dakon turned to regard the apprentice. The pair exchanged unreadable looks, then Dakon slowly nodded. “Perhaps it would.”
He rose from his seat and stepped into the space between the chairs. Jayan put his book aside, yawned and got to his feet. He smiled faintly, then an expression Tessia had never seen before smoothed his face and he looked older and more dignified.
Moving towards Dakon, he stopped in front of the magician, his gaze fixed on the floor. Then he knelt and lifted his hands, palms upward, to the level of his head.
A shiver ran down Tessia’s spine. Jayan was no longer just a young, disdainful man but a submissive, obedient apprentice. Dakon was no longer the benevolent lord of ley and village, but the master magician. This is the world of magicians that ordinary people do not see, she thought. A world they had kept private until now. A world she was a part of. The idea seemed unreal. Unbelievable. But perhaps after she took part in the ritual she would feel more like someone who belonged in their world.
Dakon reached into his shirt and took out a small, slim object. As he slid the object apart into two pieces, Tessia realised it was a tiny blade. Dakon touched the palms of both Jayan’s hands with the point of the knife. If it hurt, Jayan hid it well. Then the magician put away the knife, placed his palms over Jayan’s and closed his eyes.
Tessia held her breath, her heart still beating quickly. A moment later Dakon lifted his hands from Jayan’s, smiled and murmured something. The rite was over.
That’s it? she thought. No, of course that isn’t it. There’s always much more going on, when magic is involved.
Jayan stood up, reflexively brushed the knees of his trousers with the backs of his hands, then took a cloth from within his clothing and wiped his hands. He glanced at her and shrugged.
“See? Nothing to it.”
Nothing obvious to the eye, she thought wryly. But seeing him cheerfully survive the ritual was reassuring. She suppressed a sudden reluctance and swallowed her nervousness, then stepped forward. Jayan moved away as she approached, and Dakon gave her his usual encouraging smile. Facing him, she looked up, then away again as she realised it would be more uncomfortable the longer she prolonged the next part. She quickly dropped to her knees and held up her palms, keeping her eyes on the floor and trying not to visualise herself looking as submissive as Jayan had.
Submissive and yet respectful, she suddenly thought. There is a dignity to the rite, I suppose. I wonder how the Sachakans do it. There’s probably no ritual at all. They just rip the power from their slaves whenever they want to. So the fact there’s a ritual at all for Kyralian magicians is a good thing. A sign of respect to the apprentices...