The novices increased their attack, forcing Sonea to concentrate on the fight again. She fought back. Individually, they were no match for her. Together they could eventually defeat her. But she had only to strike the inner shield of one novice to win the bout.
There was far more at stake than her pride. She had to win, and quickly, in order to save her strength.
Every night for the last week she had been giving Akkarin most of her strength. Talk of the murders in the city increased as new victims were found every day. It was difficult to say how much strength the Sachakan woman had recovered in that time. Akkarin, however, had only Sonea and Takan to take energy from each night.
She must not exhaust herself in this fight.
That was not going to be easy, however. Her adversaries were obviously well practiced at combining shields. She remembered the first attempts her own class had made at this sort of fighting. Until they all learned the proper responses to different kinds of attacks, and learned to act as one, it was easy to become confused.
So I should do something unexpected to confuse them. Something they’ve never encountered before.
Like what she had done the night Regin and his friends had attacked her in the forest, so long ago. She couldn’t effectively dazzle these novices with a bright light during the day, however. But if she did something similar so they didn’t know where she was, she could sneak behind someone and...
She smothered a smile. Her shield didn’t have to be transparent.
It took only a shift in her will for her shield to become a globe of white light. The disadvantage of this, she realized belatedly, was that she couldn’t see them either.
Now for the deception. Creating several more shields like her first, she sent them out in different directions. At the same time she began walking, taking one shield with her.
She felt the novices’ attack falter, and had to cover her mouth to stop herself laughing as she imagined how the Arena must look, with several big white bubbles floating around it. She couldn’t strike back, however, or they would know which shield she stood within.
As the shields drew close to her adversaries, she felt them encounter the novices’ barrier. She stopped and let all but one of the shields fall back a little. The novices began to attack the one still advancing. She let one of the stationary shields waver and disappear: another distraction.
Reverting the shield around her to a transparent one, she found herself standing near three novices. Gathering her power, she blasted one with a fierce attack of forcestrikes. He jumped, and his neighbors whirled around to face her, but the rest of the novices were still too distracted by her other shields to realize their allies needed help.
The combined shield wavered and broke before her.
“Halt!”
Sonea turned to face Balkan. She blinked in surprise when she saw that he was smiling.
“An interesting strategy, Sonea,” he said. “Not one we’d probably use in real combat, but certainly effective in the Arena. You win the bout.”
Sonea bowed. She knew that next time she attended his lessons she would find her multiple shield idea completely ineffective. The University gong rang, signalling the end of the class, and Sonea heard a few sighs among the novices. She smiled, but more at having ended the bout without using too much strength than at their obvious relief.
“Lesson over,” Balkan announced. “You may go.”
The novices bowed and filed out of the Arena. Sonea saw that two magicians were standing just outside the entrance. Her heart skipped when she recognized them: Akkarin and Lorlen.
She followed the other novices out of the Arena. They bowed to the Higher Magicians as they passed. Akkarin ignored them and beckoned to Sonea.
“High Lord.” She bowed. “Administrator.”
“You did well, Sonea,” Akkarin said. “You assessed their strengths, recognized their weaknesses, and came up with an original response.”
She blinked in surprise, then felt her face warm.
“Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t take Balkan’s comment too seriously, however,” he added. “In real combat, a magician uses any strategy that works.”
Lorlen gave Akkarin a penetrating look. He looked as if he desperately wanted to ask a question, but didn’t dare. Or perhaps a dozen questions, Sonea mused. She felt a pang of sympathy for the Administrator, and then she remembered the ring he wore.
It enabled Akkarin to sense everything Lorlen saw, felt and thought. Was Lorlen aware of its power? If he was, he must feel utterly betrayed by his friend. She shivered. If only Akkarin could tell Lorlen the truth.
But then, if he did, would he also tell Lorlen she had willingly learned black magic? Thinking of that made her feel very uncomfortable.
Akkarin started walking toward the University. Sonea and Lorlen followed.
“The Guild will lose interest in the murderer once Ambassador Dannyl arrives with the rogue, Lorlen,” Akkarin said.
Sonea had heard about the rebels that Dannyl had caught. News about the rogue magician he was bringing to the Guild had spread among the novices faster than the winter cough.
“Perhaps,” Lorlen replied, “but they won’t forget. Nobody forgets a killing spree like this. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone demands the Guild do something about it.”
Akkarin sighed. “As if having magic makes it any easier for us to find one person in a city of many thousands.”
Lorlen opened his mouth to say something, then glanced at Sonea and seemed to think better of it. He remained silent until they reached the University steps, then he bid them good night and hurried away. Akkarin started toward the residence.
“So the Thieves haven’t found the spy yet?” Sonea asked quietly.
Akkarin shook his head.
“Does it usually take this long?”
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “You’re eager to see us fight, then?”
“Eager?” She shook her head. “No, I’m not eager. I can’t help thinking that the longer she’s out there, the more people she will kill.” She paused. “My family lives in Northside.”
His expression softened a little. “Yes. There are many thousands in the slums, however. The odds of her taking one of your relatives is small, particularly if they stay indoors at night.”
“They do.” She sighed. “I worry about Cery and my old friends, though.”
“I’m sure your thief friend can take care of himself.”
She nodded. “You’re probably right.” As they passed the gardens, she thought about her early morning encounter with Rothen. She felt another stab of guilt. She hadn’t lied to him, as such. Akkarin had never asked her to learn black magic.
But she felt terrible when she considered how Rothen would feel if he learned the truth. He had done so much for her, and sometimes it seemed like all she’d ever brought him was trouble. Perhaps it was good that they had been separated.
And she had to admit, begrudgingly, Akkarin had done more than Rothen could have to ensure she had the best training. She would never have been much good at Warrior Skills if he hadn’t pushed her. Now it looked like she would need to use those skills to fight the spies.
As they reached the residence and the door swung open, Akkarin paused and glanced upward. “I believe Takan is waiting for us.” He moved inside and approached the wine cabinet. “Go on up.”
As she climbed the stairs she thought back to his comment at the Arena. Had there been a hint of pride in his voice? Was he actually pleased with her as a novice? The idea was strangely appealing. Perhaps she really had earned the title: the High Lord’s favorite.
Her. The slum girl.
She slowed her step. Thinking back, she could not remember him ever expressing disdain or distaste about her origins. He had been threatening, manipulative and cruel, but he had never once reminded her that she had come from the poorest part of the city.