A finger was tracing a lazy pattern along her arm and hand. She looked down, then up at Naki. The girl’s eyes were burning with eagerness. “Let me try.” She gave Lilia a meaningful look. “We do this together.”
Lilia felt a surge of affection. Picking up the little knife, she clenched her teeth then ran it across the back of her arm. Naki beamed at her, then gently touched the cut. As she closed her eyes, Lilia did the same, wondering how it would feel to be the one whose barrier was damaged.
This time her awareness instantly took the new form. The breach in her defences was easy to locate; it roused a sense of urgency that made her feel edgy. Suddenly she felt Naki’s presence again, but this time there was no sense of her emotions.
A strange weakness, like the disconnection from will that roet brought, came over her and she sensed energy flowing out.
But as quickly as it began, it stopped. She felt Naki let go of her arm, and drew her consciousness back to the physical world. Her friend was frowning and shaking her head.
“I don’t think it worked.”
“No?” Lilia said in surprise. “I’m sure I felt you taking power.”
Naki shook her head again. Her lips formed a small pout and she walked over and flopped into her chair. “I couldn’t sense anything. Not the breach in your barrier. Not you.” She sighed. “All the years I’ve wanted to try it … and now that I have someone I trust to try it with it doesn’t work …”
“Well, if it was that easy it would be possible to learn it from a book. We can try again, if you like,” Lilia offered.
Naki shook her head. She looked at the brazier sullenly, then used a little magic to open it and stamp out the burning contents. Getting up, she stowed it away.
“Let’s go to bed.”
Relieved, since she was starting to get the dizziness and headaches that meant she’d had a little too much roet, Lilia got up and followed her friend out of the library. Naki passed her bedroom and entered the guest room where Lilia slept when she stayed over. She went straight to an elaborately carved chest, dug beneath some bundles and produced a bottle of wine.
“Thirsty?”
Lilia hesitated, then nodded. Though her head was still spinning a little from roet, she was very thirsty. Naki opened the bottle and raised it to her lips. After drinking a mouthful, she grinned and handed it to Lilia, the contents sloshing as she did. “No glasses in here. Father has forbidden wine and roet, but I have friends among the servants.”
Lilia gulped awkwardly from the bottle. With a sigh, Naki flopped down onto the bed. She waved the bottle away as Lilia offered it back.
“He’s not my real father,” she murmured. “Mother married him after my real father died. When she died, Leiden got everything she had, including me. We never liked each other. He’ll marry me off as soon as I graduate, to the first person who asks, just to get rid of me.” She sighed again.
Setting the bottle aside, Lilia lay down beside her friend. “That’s awful.” The thought of Naki being married off to a man, who she clearly would never desire, made Lilia’s heart ache. If he does it after she graduates … that’s half a year away! Would they still be able to see each other? Could they keep their love secret?
“I wish he was dead,” Naki murmured. She turned her head to look at Lilia. “You said you’d do anything for me. Would you kill him, if I asked?”
Lilia smiled and shrugged. The wine was going to her head and she had no energy to form a reply. There must be another way to solve Naki’s problems. Murder is a bit extreme. But what if there wasn’t? Could I use black magic and hide it? Make it look like an accident? Naki was murmuring something, but the words were distant and took too much concentration to understand.
Mind full of dark thoughts, Lilia slipped into strange and vivid dreams where she ridded Naki of all her problems, and they lived a life of love and secrets in a house full of staircases and hidden doors and cabinets filled with frustratingly cryptic books.
CHAPTER 11
A MISUNDERSTANDING
As the carriage pulled up in front of the tower, Sonea smiled wryly.
Finding a suitable prison for Lorandra had proven difficult. The city Guard had objected to keeping a magician – even one whose powers were blocked – in their prison. No prison existed in the Guild grounds and there was no room in the Magicians’ Quarters for her – even if there had been Sonea doubted the magicians living there would have been happy about having Lorandra as a neighbour. The Servants’ Quarters were considered briefly, but they were even more crowded – something that ought to be dealt with soon, Osen had commented. Keeping Lorandra in the Dome permanently was only suggested in jest.
The temporary solution was to use the Lookout as a prison. The rebuilding of the tower had begun before the Ichani Invasion, at Akkarin’s suggestion. Afterwards, it was completed and for a few short years used by Alchemists to study the weather. Eventually it was loaned out to the Guard for training purposes, with the condition that it was maintained and always occupied.
Though the Guard had made it clear they didn’t want Lorandra in their prison, they readily agreed to guarding her at the Lookout, so clearly the knowledge that Lorandra was a magician didn’t bother them. In retrospect, Sonea could see that guarding the tower against a rescue mission from Skellin would be easier here than in the city prison. Corruption among the prison guards had led to escapes before. There was less chance of one of them releasing Lorandra if her guards were a smaller group, carefully chosen for their loyalty and trustworthiness.
Or perhaps they know it’s more likely the Guild will continue to post a magician to help guard Lorandra here. How long would magicians agree to watch over her, if they had to do it at the dirty, unpleasant city prison?
Stepping down from the carriage, Sonea looked up at the building and felt a small pang of sadness. Would you have been pleased that we finished it, Akkarin? she thought. Or did you mean for it to be a distraction to keep the Guild’s attention away from you, as some believe?
It was a plain building, just a round tower twice as tall as the trees surrounding it. The surface was smooth and the windows small, reminding her of the Fort with its magically bonded stone face and tiny windows. Guards were posted around the exterior. One of them, standing beside the heavy wooden door, bowed as she approached, then opened the door for her.
She stepped into a large room lit by several small lamps. Two more guards and their captain rose and bowed. They had been sitting at a table with a young Warrior, who nodded respectfully to Sonea.
The captain stepped forward and bowed again.
“Black Magician Sonea. I am Captain Sotin,” he said.
“I’m here to see the prisoner,” she told him.
“Follow me.”
He led her up a winding staircase and stopped at a wooden door into which a small hatch had been recently cut. Opening the hatch, he gestured for her to look inside. She saw a bed and a desk, and a familiar reddish-skinned old woman sitting in a chair. Lorandra’s attention was on something in her hands.
“Black Magician Sonea is here to see you,” the captain announced, his voice loud in Sonea’s ear.
The woman looked up and stared at the hatch without expression. Her gaze dropped back to her still-moving hands.
“She doesn’t say much,” the captain said apologetically.
“She never has,” Sonea replied. “Unlock the door.”