“Who’re you?” the stranger had demanded. “What’s your name?”
“Ceryni,” he had squeaked.
There had been a pause, and then the light came closer.
“So you are,” the stranger had remarked, amusement in his tone. “A familiar little rodent, too. Ah, I’ve got you tagged, now. Torrin’s son. Hmm, you know the price for using the Road without the Thieves say-so?”
Terrified, Cery had nodded his head.
“Well then, little Ceryni. You be in a lot of rub, you know, but I think I can give you a bit of space. Don’t use the Road regular-like—but if you have to, use it. If anyone asks, tell ’em Ravi said you could. But remember, you owe me. If I ask you for something, you’ll give it to me. If you give me boot, you don’t get to use any road again. We right?”
Cery had nodded again, too frightened to speak.
The stranger had chuckled. “Good. Now get yourself gone.” The light had disappeared and Cery had been hauled by unseen hands to the nearest exit from the Road and tossed outside.
Since then, he had rarely set foot on the Thieves’ Road. The few times he had returned to the maze, he had been surprised to find his memory of its ways hadn’t faded. He had occasionally passed other travellers, but they had never stopped or questioned him.
In the last few days, however, he had flouted the Thieves’ rule far more than he was comfortable with. If someone confronted him, he would have to trust that Ravi’s name still held some influence. However, he was not about to tell Sonea that. It would frighten her too much.
Looking down at her, he felt that strange uneasiness again.
He had always hoped she would come back one day, but had never believed it. She was different. Special. He’d always known she would get out of the slums one day.
She was special, but in a way he could not have guessed. She had magic! But she also had very bad timing. Why couldn’t she have discovered it while making a cup of raka, or polishing shoes? Why do it in front of the Magicians’ Guild?
She had, however, and now he must do all he could to keep her from them. At least that left them plenty of time together. Even if that did mean risking his understanding with Ravi, it was worth it. But he hated seeing her looking so worried ...
“Don’t worry. So long as the magicians are snooping in the tunnels the Thieves won’t pay any mind to—”
“Shhh!” she interrupted, lifting a hand to silence him.
He stared at her as she climbed off the bed and walked into the center of the room. Turning full circle, she stared at the walls intently, her eyes roving about. He strained his ears, but could hear nothing unusual.
“What is it?”
She shook her head, then suddenly flinched. A look of surprise and terror crossed her face. He leapt to his feet, alarmed.
“What is it?” he repeated.
“They’re searching,” she hissed.
“I can’t hear anything.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can see them, but it’s not like seeing. It’s more like hearing, but it isn’t because I can’t tell what they’re saying. It’s more like ...” She sucked in a breath and whirled about, her eyes roving after something beyond his senses. “They’re searching with their minds.”
Cery stared at her helplessly. If he still had doubts that she had magical powers, this cast them aside forever.
“Can they see you?”
She gave him a frightened look. “I don’t know.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists. He had been so sure he could keep her from them, but there was no place he could take her—no walls that would hide her—from this.
Sucking in a breath, he stepped forward and grabbed her hands.
“Can you stop them seeing you?”
She spread her hands. “How? I don’t know how to use magic.”
“Try!” he urged. “Try something. Anything!”
She shook her head, then tensed and drew in a sharp breath. He watched her face turn white.
“That one seemed to look right at me ...” She turned to look at Cery. “But it went past. They keep looking past me.” A smile slowly spread across her face. “They can’t see me.”
He searched her eyes. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Pulling her hands from his, she sat down on the bed, her expression thoughtful. “I think I did something yesterday, when that magician nearly got us. I kind of made myself invisible. I think he would have found me if I hadn’t.” She looked up suddenly, then relaxed and grinned. “It’s like they’re blind.”
Cery allowed himself a sigh of relief. He shook his head. “You really had me worried, Sonea. I can hide you from magician’s eyes, but I’m afraid hiding from magicians’ minds is a bit much to ask. I think I better move you again. I’ve a place in mind off the Road that might do for a few days.”
The Guildhall was silent except for the whisper of breathing. Rothen opened his eyes and looked up at the rows of faces.
As always, he felt a vague embarrassment watching other magicians absorbed in mind work. He could not help feeling as if he was spying on them, that he was peeking at a private moment.
Yet he also got a childish amusement from their different expressions. Some magicians frowned, others looked puzzled or surprised. Most might have been asleep, their faces smooth and serene.
Catching a soft snore, Rothen smiled. Lord Sharrel leaned back in his chair, his bald head drooping slowly toward his chest. Obviously the exercises to calm and focus his mind had been too effective.
— He’s not the only one not keeping his mind on the job, eh Rothen?
Dannyl opened an eye and smiled. Shaking his head in disapproval, Rothen scanned the faces to see if his friend had disturbed the concentration of the others. Dannyl gave the slightest shrug and closed his eye again.
Rothen sighed. They should have found her by now. He looked up at the rows of magicians and shook his head. Another half-hour, he decided. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath and started his mind-calming exercise once again.
By late morning the mist shrouding the city had been burned away by cheerful sunlight. Standing at the window, Dannyl took a moment to enjoy the silence. The printing machines, while more efficient than scribes, made a din of whirring and thumping that always set his ears ringing.
He pursed his lips. Now that the last batch of reward notices had been printed and sent out, he was free. The mental search had failed, and Rothen was already in the slums. Dannyl wasn’t sure if he should be pleased that he was going out in the fine weather, or dismayed that he must roam about in the hovels again.
“Lord Dannyl,” a voice said, “there is a large gathering of people at the Guild Gates who wish to speak to you.”
Startled, Dannyl turned to find Administrator Lorlen standing in the doorway.
“Already?” he exclaimed.
Lorlen nodded, his lips curling into a bemused smile. “I don’t know how they got there. They’ve avoided two sets of Gate Guards and passed into the Inner Circle before arriving here—unless they’re vagrants we missed in the Purge.”
“How many?”
“About two hundred,” Lorlen replied. “The guards say they all claim to know where the missing girl is.”
Picturing that many thieves and beggars amassed at the gates, Dannyl pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned.
“Exactly,” Lorlen said. “What are you going to do now?”
Dannyl leaned against the table and considered. It had been no more than an hour since he had sent the first messengers out with copies of the reward. Those at the gates were the first of a horde of informers that was sure to follow.
“We need somewhere to question them,” he mused aloud.