“But why use a stone at all?” Lady Vinara asked. “Why not just strike with magic?”
“To conceal the strike?” Lord Sarrin suggested. “If the magicians had seen a strike coming, they may have had time to strengthen the shield.”
“That is possible,” Balkan said, “but the force of the strike was used only to break through the barrier. If the attacker’s intent had been malicious, Lord Fergun would have more than a bruised temple.”
Vinara frowned. “So this attacker did not expect to do much harm? Why do it, then?”
“To demonstrate her power—to defy us, perhaps,” Balkan replied.
Sarrin’s wrinkled face creased into a disapproving frown. Rothen shook his head. Catching the movement, Balkan looked down and smiled. “You do not agree, Lord Rothen?”
“She didn’t expect to do anything at all,” Rothen told him. “By her expression, she was clearly shocked and surprised by what she had done. I believe she is untrained.”
“Impossible.” Sarrin shook his head. “Someone must have released her powers.”
“And trained her to control them, we hope,” Vinara added. “Or we have a serious problem of a different kind.”
At once, the hall began to hum with speculation. Lorlen lifted a hand and the voices fell silent.
“When Lord Rothen told me what he witnessed, I called Lord Solend to my room to ask if he, in the course of studying the Guild’s history, had read of magicians whose powers had developed without assistance.” Lorlen’s expression was grave. “It appears that our assumption that a magician’s power can only be released by another magician is wrong.
“It has been recorded that in the early centuries of the Guild’s existence, some of the individuals who sought training were using magic already. Their powers had developed naturally as they physically matured. Since we accept and initiate novices at a young age, natural development of power no longer occurs.” Lorlen gestured to the seats at one side of the hall. “I have asked Lord Solend to gather what he knows of this phenomenon and now call him before us to relate what he has learned.”
An aged figure rose from the rows of robed men and women and started down the stairs. All waited in silence as the old historian reached the floor and shuffled to Rothen’s side. Solend nodded stiffly to the Higher Magicians.
“Until five hundred years ago,” the old man began in a querulous voice, “a man or woman seeking to learn magic would approach individual magicians for apprenticeship. They were tested and chosen according to their strength, and how much they could pay. Because of this tradition, some apprentices were quite mature by the time they began their training, as it could take many years of work, or a generous inheritance, before they were able to pay for the training.
“Sometimes, however, a young man or woman would appear whose powers were already ‘loosed,’ as they termed it in those times. Those people, known as ‘naturals,’ were never turned away. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, their powers were always very strong. Secondly, they had to be taught Control.” The old man paused, and his voice rose in pitch. “We already know what happens when novices are unable to master Control. If this young woman is a natural, we should expect her to be more powerful than our average novice, possibly even more powerful than the average magician. If she is not found and taught Control, she will be a considerable danger to the city.”
A short silence followed, then a buzz of alarm spread through the hall.
“If her powers have, indeed, surfaced on their own,” Balkan added.
The old man nodded. “There is a possibility, of course, that she has been trained by someone.”
“Then we must find her—and those who have taught her,” a voice declared.
The Hall filled with discussion again, but Lorlen’s voice rose above it. “If she is a rogue, we are bound by law to bring her and her teachers to the King. If she is a natural we must teach her Control. Either way, we must find her.”
“How?” a voice called.
Lorlen looked down. “Lord Balkan?”
“A systematic search of the slums,” the Warrior replied. He turned to look up at the King’s Advisers. “We’ll need help.”
Lorlen’s brows rose and he followed the Warrior’s gaze. “The Guild formally requests the assistance of the City Guard.”
The Advisers exchanged glances and nodded.
“Granted,” one replied.
“We should begin as soon as possible,” Balkan said. “Tonight, preferably.”
“If we want the Guard’s assistance, it will take time to organize. I suggest we start tomorrow morning,” Lorlen replied.
“What of classes?” a voice called.
Lorlen looked at the magician seated beside him. “I think an extra day of private study will not affect the novices’ progress.”
“A day won’t make much difference.” The sour University Director, Jerrik, shrugged. “But will we find her in a day?”
Lorlen pursed his lips. “We will meet here again tomorrow night if we have not found her, to discuss who shall continue the search.”
“If I might make a suggestion, Administrator Lorlen?”
Rothen started in surprise at the voice. He turned to see Dannyl standing amongst the watching magicians.
“Yes, Lord Dannyl?” Lorlen replied.
“The slum dwellers are sure to hamper our search, and the girl will probably hide from us. We may have a better chance of success if we enter the slums in disguise.”
Lorlen frowned. “What disguise would you suggest?”
Dannyl shrugged. “The less conspicuous we are, the better our chances of success. I’d suggest that at least some of us dress as they do. They may be able to tell who we are when we speak, but—”
“Definitely not,” Balkan growled. “How would it be if one of us was discovered dressed as a grovelling beggar? We would be ridiculed throughout the Allied Lands.”
Several voices rose in agreement.
Lorlen nodded slowly. “I agree. We, as magicians, have the authority to enter any house in this city. Our search will be hampered if we do not wear the robes.”
“How will we know what we’re looking for?” Vinara asked.
Lorlen looked at Rothen. “Can you remember what she looked like?”
Rothen nodded. Taking a few steps back, he closed his eyes and called up a memory of a small, skinny girl with a thin, childlike face. Drawing on his power, he opened his eyes and exerted his will. A glow appeared in the air before him, and quickly sharpened to form a slightly transparent face. As his memory filled in the rest, her rough clothing appeared: a colorless scarf around her head, a thick hooded shirt, trousers. The illusion complete, he looked up at the Higher Magicians.
“That’s who attacked us?” Balkan muttered. “She’s barely more than a child.”
“A small package with a big surprise inside,” Sarrin said dryly.
“What if this is not the attacker?” Jerrik asked. “What if Lord Rothen is mistaken?”
Lorlen looked at Rothen and smiled faintly. “For now we can only assume he is correct. We shall know soon enough if the city gossips agree, and witnesses may be found among the public.” He nodded at the illusion. “That will be enough, Lord Rothen.”
Rothen waved a hand and the illusion vanished. When he looked up again he found Lord Sarrin looking at him appraisingly.
“What are we going to do with her once we’ve found her?” Vinara asked.
“If she is a rogue we will apply the law,” Lorlen replied. “If she is not, we will teach her to control her powers.”
“Of course, but afterward? What then?”