The door swung inward. Dorrien smiled at her and beckoned. She moved through and sat down.
“Why the serious look?” he asked.
She drew a breath to answer, then her courage faltered. We should chat a little before I deliver the bad news.
“I was wondering how people would react, if I had been chosen to be Naki’s executioner,” she told him.
He gave her a reflective look. “Serious thoughts, indeed.” He looked away as he considered. “I don’t think they would resent you for it.”
“But they would not be able to help thinking about it, when they were around me. They would fear me even more.”
“Fear you? They don’t fear you,” he told her.
She gave him a disbelieving look. He looked back at her, then shook his head.
“They’re intimidated by you, Sonea. That’s different. They’re scared of black magic, but they’re not scared of you. You’ve shown them that it doesn’t make a person into a murderer.”
“I’ve used it to kill,” she pointed out.
He spread his hands. “That’s different, too. It was in the defence of Kyralia. They’d do the same, in the same position.”
She looked away. “I also used Healing to kill. That seems even worse to me.” She looked around the room. “I’m a Healer. I’m supposed to mend people, not kill them. I think that, if I’d had to execute Naki, people would have found it difficult to reconcile the two.”
Dorrien’s jaw hardened. “She learned black magic deliberately, and killed with it for her own benefit.”
Sonea shrugged. “Even so, I think it would have changed the way people thought of me. I never got a chance to choose a discipline. I would have chosen to be a Healer. I work as a Healer, but I can never wear the green robes. I am a Black Magician. While I would not hesitate to defend Kyralia again, that role is not the one I wanted.”
He smiled wryly. “I prefer to think that Healing chose me.”
She nodded. “And I suppose despite everything, it still claimed me, though you were a strong influence behind me wanting it to, too.”
They regarded each other fondly. Perhaps too fondly, in Dorrien’s case. She gathered courage and determination. It’s time I put an end to this.
“Dorrien, I have been thinking a lot about … us.”
“There is no ‘us’, is there?” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. He gave her a wan smile.
“Father came to see me. Gave me the good news. Tylia will join the winter intake of novices. Kallen is probably going to be taking over the search for Skellin. ‘Why don’t you go back to your village?’ he suggested.”
Sonea stared at him. “Kallen is going to be taking over the search for Skellin?”
His eyebrows rose. “You didn’t know? Father didn’t say it was going to happen for certain.”
“No.” She resisted the urge to jump out of her seat and march straight back to Osen’s office. Unless … Rothen may have made this up in order to give Dorrien no excuse to stay in Imardin. But that seems a little extreme. Perhaps … I never told him about Dorrien’s infatuation with me, but has he guessed? She looked back at Dorrien.
He smiled crookedly. “He may be old, but it’s still very difficult to hide secrets from him.”
She shifted in her seat and pushed aside her annoyance. “I only asked him to see if Tylia could join the winter intake.”
“Why?”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “So you were free to go home, if working with me became unbearable after I told you that … well … there will be no ‘us’.”
He winced. She could tell that he tried not to, but failed. “Why can’t there be?”
“Because you are married. Because while the idea of ‘us’ appeals, it doesn’t appeal enough that I would hurt Alina and your daughters. And because if you were to hurt them, then I would dislike you for it. And myself.”
He looked down. “I see. Father said as much. He also pointed out that Alina and I didn’t start getting along so badly until we came to Imardin.” He sighed. “I was ready to try city life. She wasn’t.” He managed a guilty smile. “Would you believe me if I said I do care about her?”
Sonea felt a pang of affection for him. “I would.”
He nodded. “I have to give it a try. That’s only fair. We’ve disagreed before, but we always got past it.” He shook his head. “It’s a pity she was so jealous of you. She is usually so lovely to people.”
Sonea shrugged. “I can’t blame her though. Even without her being as perceptive as Rothen, there’s all that black magic and reputation as a killer to get past.”
Dorrien shook a finger at her. “Stop that. Remember, you are what you chose to be. Your robes may be black, but you’ve got the heart of a Healer.”
Sonea looked down and shrugged. “Well, at least they make me look taller.”
He chuckled, then stood up. “Well, I had best get home and start making plans for our return to the village.”
Sonea rose and they swapped places. “When will you be leaving?”
“A few weeks after Tylia joins the University.”
“Will she settle in all right, do you think?”
He nodded. “She has already made some friends here, both starting at the same time as she will be now. Rothen will keep an eye on her.”
“And we both know he’ll do an excellent job of that.”
He smiled. “He will. Goodnight, Sonea.”
“Goodnight, Dorrien.”
As the door closed behind him, Sonea looked down in the chair he’d vacated. That hadn’t been as painful as she’d feared. For a moment she felt a pang of regret. If Dorrien hadn’t been married …
She pushed that thought away, walked to the door and opened it, waving to a Healer to indicate she was ready to see patients.
* * *
Shrugging into his robes, Lorkin smoothed down the fine, richly dyed purple cloth and sighed with both appreciation and wistfulness. It was strangely comforting to be dressed in robes again. When he’d returned to his new bedroom to catch up on some sleep he’d even contemplated, though briefly, sleeping in them.
They were so much less itchy than the hunter’s clothes, and yet the bulk of fabric felt overly indulgent and heavy after the plain, practical Traitor garb. He could not help enjoying the rich, dark colour, however. Though the dyes made in Sanctuary produced gentle hues, and he had come to see the aesthetic beauty in undyed fabric, there was something deeply satisfying about Alchemic purple.
And yet, I should not be wearing it. I should not be wearing robes at all. Not only because he was bound by his promise to return to Sanctuary and Tyvara, but because he had broken one of the Guild’s most serious laws. I learned black magic. Even if they saw fit to forgive that, they would probably insist I wear black robes now.
How and when he would tell them, he hadn’t yet decided.
Moving out into the central room of the suite, Lorkin saw Merria, who had been walking about the space, stop as she noticed him.
“Ah. Lorkin. You’re awake. Good.” She hurried over. “There’s something I didn’t think of until you were asleep. This.”
She held out a ring. A blood-red stone glinted in the setting. He felt his heart leap, and reached out to take it.
“Mother’s blood ring?”
“Yes. Ambassador Dannyl left it with me, since he took Administrator Osen’s ring with him, so I could contact the Guild.” She looked at him intently. “You’ll want to tell her you’re back, but I should probably still keep the ring. Is that all right?”