“Thanks for helping me,” he offered. “There’s probably nothing a petty thief could offer in return, but if you need anything just ask.”
The magician straightened and turned to regard him soberly.
“Do you know who I am?”
Cery felt his face warm. “Of course. There’s nothing the likes of you would ever need from me. Seemed right to offer, though.”
The ghost of a smile touched the magician’s lips. “Do you truly mean what you said?”
Suddenly uneasy, Cery shifted from foot to foot. “Of course,” he said reluctantly.
The man’s smile became a little more pronounced. “I’m not going to force you to make a bargain with me. No matter what you say, Fergun’s actions must be revealed and punished. Your friend will be free to go, if that is what she wants.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But I might contact you some time in the future. I will not ask for anything beyond your abilities, or that will compromise your place with the Thieves. It will be up to you to decide if what I ask is acceptable.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that reasonable?”
Cery looked down. What the man was proposing was more than reasonable. He found himself nodding. “It is.”
The magician extended his hand. Taking it, Cery felt a strong grip. He looked into the man’s eyes, and was pleased to see that the dark stare was steady.
“Agreed,” Cery said.
“Agreed,” the magician repeated. He then turned back to the wall. After checking the spy hole again, he grasped a lever and pulled. A panel slid sideways. The magician stepped through, his light following.
Cery hurried after and found himself in a large room. A desk stood at one end, with chairs arranged before it.
“Where am I?”
“In the University,” the man replied, sliding the panel back into place. “Follow me.”
The magician strode across the room and opened a door. Following the man through, Cery found himself in a wide corridor. Two green-robed magicians stopped to stare at him, then looked up at his guide. They blinked in surprise, then inclined their heads respectfully.
Ignoring them, the magician strode to the end of the corridor, Cery following close behind. As they passed through a doorway, Cery looked up and gasped. They had entered a room filled with fantastic spiraling staircases. To one side the doors of the University stood wide open, revealing snow-covered ground and a view of the Inner City. Cery turned full circle, then realized that the magician was already several paces down the corridor.
“Harrin’s never going to believe me,” he muttered as he hurried after him.
“That’s not what happened,” Rothen told her.
Sonea looked away. “I know what I saw,” she answered. “Do you want me to lie?” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. She swallowed and tried to look puzzled by his statement.
Rothen stared at her, then shook his head. “No, I do not. If it was discovered that you had lied today, many would question if you should be allowed to join the Guild.”
“That’s why I had to do it.”
Rothen signed. “Then that is truly how you remember it?”
“I said that, didn’t I?” Sonea sent him a pleading look. “Don’t make it any harder than it already is, Rothen?”
His expression softened. “All right. Perhaps I missed something that day. It is a shame, but it can’t be helped.” He shook his head. “I will miss our lessons, Sonea. If there’s ...”
“Lord Rothen.”
They turned to see Osen walking toward them. Rothen sighed, then walked back to his place. As Fergun started toward her, she smothered a groan.
When Rothen had asked for time to speak with her, Fergun had promptly asked for the same. What did he plan to say? All she wanted now was for the Hearing to be finished and over with.
Fergun gave her a sickly smile as he reached her side.
“Everything going as planned?” he asked.
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Good,” he crooned. “Very good. Your story was convincing, if a little badly spoken. Still, it had a charming honesty.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said dryly.
He looked up at the Higher Magicians. “I doubt if they will want to discuss this any longer. They will make their decision soon. After that, I will arrange a room for you in the Novices’ Quarter. You should smile, Sonea. We want people to believe you are filled with delight at the prospect of being my novice.”
Sighing, she forced the corners of her mouth upward into what she hoped the distant magicians would take as a smile.
“I’ve had enough of this,” she said between her teeth. “Let’s go back and get it over with.”
His brows rose. “Oh, no. I want my full ten minutes.”
Pressing her lips together, Sonea resolved to avoid saying another word. When he spoke to her again she ignored him. Seeing the flicker of annoyance in his eyes, she found it much easier to smile.
“Lord Fergun?”
She turned to see Lord Osen beckoning. Letting out a sigh of relief, she followed Fergun back to the front of the hall. The room still hummed with voices. Osen lifted his hands.
“Quiet, please.”
Faces turned back to the front and the hall settled into an expectant silence.
In the corner of her eye, Sonea could see Rothen staring at her. She felt another pang of guilt.
“From the accounts given today, we can clearly see that Lord Fergun was the first to recognize Sonea’s abilities,” said Lord Osen. “Does anybody contest this conclusion?”
“I do.”
The voice was deep and strangely familiar, and it echoed from somewhere behind her. Scraping and the rustle of robes filled the hall as all shifted in their seats. Sonea turned around and saw that one of the huge doors was standing slightly open. Two figures were striding down the aisle toward her.
As she recognized the shorter one she gave a cry of joy.
“Cery!”
She took a step forward, then froze as she saw Cery’s companion. Whispered questions drifted to her ears from either side. As the black-robed magician neared, he gave her an appraising look. Disturbed by his gaze, Sonea turned her attention to Cery.
Though pale and dirty, Cery was grinning happily. “He found me and let me out,” he told her. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Sonea looked questioningly at the black-robed magician. His lips curled into a half smile, but he said nothing. Moving past her, he gave Osen a nod, then started up the stairs between the Higher Magicians. No one protested as he settled into the seat above the Administrator.
“For what reason do you contest this conclusion, High Lord?” Osen asked.
The room seemed to tilt beneath her. She stared at the black-robed magician. This man was no assassin. He was the Guild’s leader.
“Evidence of deception,” the High Lord replied. “The girl has been forced to lie.”
Sonea heard a strangled sound to her right. Turning, she saw that Fergun’s face was white. She felt a flare of triumph and anger and, forgetting the black-robed magician, jabbed her finger at Fergun.
“He made me lie!” she accused. “He said he would kill Cery if I didn’t do what he said.”
From all around came gasps and hisses of surprise. Sonea felt Cery grip her arm tightly. She turned to look at Rothen, and as he met her eyes she knew he understood everything.
“An accusation has been made,” Lady Vinara observed.
The hall quietened. Rothen opened his mouth to speak, then frowned and shook his head.
“Sonea. Do you know the law regarding accusations?” Lord Osen asked.
Sonea drew in a sharp breath as she remembered. “Yes,” she replied, her voice shaking. “A truth read?”
Osen nodded, then turned to face the Higher Magicians. “Who will perform the truth read?”
Silence followed. The Higher Magicians exchanged glances, then looked up at Lorlen. The Administrator nodded and rose from his chair.
“I will perform the truth read.”