“Where to?” Tayend frowned. “I wish we could ask the family he stayed with, but they’re likely to let Akkarin know someone was asking about him and you seem to want to avoid that.” He drummed his fingers on the railing of the ship.
Dannyl smiled and turned his face into the wind. He had come to like the scholar since they had begun working together. Tayend had a quick mind and a good memory, and was companionable as well as a good assistant. When Tayend had offered to accompany Dannyl on his journey to Lonmar, Dannyl had been surprised and pleased. He’d asked if Irand would allow it.
“Oh, I only work here because I want to,” Tayend had replied, clearly amused. “In fact, I don’t work as such. I get the run of the library in exchange for making myself useful to visitors and researchers.”
When Dannyl had expressed his desire to visit Lonmar and Vin he had been sure that the First Ambassador would disapprove. After all, he’d only been in Elyne a few months. But Errend had been delighted. It seemed that Lorlen had asked him to visit these countries to deal with some ambassadorial matters, and Errend was not at all fond of ship travel. He’d promptly decided that Dannyl would go in his place.
This was all suspiciously convenient...
“How did he get back to the Guild?”
Dannyl started, then turned to regard Tayend. “Who?”
“Akkarin.”
“They say he just walked up to the Guild Gates, all dirty and dressed in ordinary clothes, and nobody recognized him at first.”
Tayend’s eyes widened. “Really? Did he say why?”
Dannyl shrugged. “Possibly. I have to admit, I didn’t pay much attention at the time.”
“Wish we could ask him.”
“If we’re looking for ancient magic, the reason Akkarin turned up looking shabby at the end of his search is probably not going to tell us anything. Lorlen said his quest wasn’t completed, remember.”
“I’d still like to know,” Tayend insisted.
The ship rocked as it passed through the arms of the bay. Looking back, Dannyl sighed with appreciation at the shining city. He was lucky, indeed, to have been assigned the role of Guild Ambassador in such a place. Tayend stowed the slip of paper away.
“Goodbye, Capia,” he said wistfully. “It’s like leaving the arms of a beautiful lover you’ve shamelessly taken for granted. Only in the leaving do you realize what you have.”
“The Splendid Temple is said to be a magnificent place.”
Tayend looked around the ship’s deck. “Yes, and we will be seeing it for ourselves. What an adventure awaits us! What fine sights and memorable experiences—and what a fantastic way to travel.”
“You might want to wait until you see your room before you come up with any more grand descriptions of our journey—though I must say you will find sleeping in it a memorable experience.”
Tayend swayed as the ship rolled through the waves. “It will stop this soon, won’t it? When it gets farther out?”
“Stop what?” Dannyl asked slyly.
The scholar looked at him in horror, then flung himself at the railing and vomited. Dannyl immediately felt ashamed of his teasing remark.
“Here.” He took Tayend’s hand and placed his palm on the man’s wrist. Closing his eyes, he sent his awareness into the scholar’s body, but the sense of it vanished as the scholar snatched his hand away.
“No. Don’t.” Tayend had flushed a bright red. “I’ll be fine. It’s seasickness, right? I’ll get used to it.”
“You don’t have to be ill,” Dannyl said, puzzled by the scholar’s reaction.
“Yes, I do.” Tayend leaned over the railing again. After a moment, he slumped against the rail and wiped his mouth on a nosecloth. “It’s all part of the experience, you see,” he told the waves. “If you stop me feeling it, I won’t have any good stories to tell.”
Dannyl shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind...”
Tayend coughed. “I’ll let you know.”
As the last rays of light left all but the highest leaves within the forest, Lorlen stepped out of the University and made his way toward the High Lord’s Residence.
Once again, he must endeavor to store all he knew in some dark part of his mind. Once more he would make friendly conversation, tell a few jokes, and drink the best wine in the Allied Lands.
He would have trusted his life to Akkarin, once. They had been close as novices, confiding in each other, defending each other. Akkarin had been the one most likely to break Guild rules and propose mischief. Lorlen frowned. Had that led to this interest in black magic? Was Akkarin just bending the rules for the sake of his own entertainment?
He sighed. He didn’t like fearing Akkarin. It was easier, on nights like this, to invent a good reason for Akkarin to be using black magic. But doubts always remained.
“The fight has weakened me. I need your strength.”
What fight? Who had Akkarin battled? Remembering the blood that had covered Akkarin in Sonea’s memory, Lorlen could only conclude that the adversary had been badly hurt. Or murdered.
Lorlen shook his head. The stories Derril and his son had told were strange and disturbing. Both involved victims who appeared to be dead despite wounds that weren’t severe. This wasn’t enough to prove a black magician had been at work, however. He could not help thinking that, if he wasn’t worried about Akkarin, he might have been more inclined to bring the deaths to Vinara’s attention. The Healer might know a way to detect if a person had been killed with black magic.
But if the Guild started looking for a black magician, would it all lead to a premature confrontation with Akkarin?
Stopping at the door of the High Lord’s Residence, Lorlen sighed. He must push these things from his mind. Some of the magicians actually suspected that the High Lord could read thoughts from a distance. While he didn’t believe this, Akkarin did have an uncanny ability to discover secrets before anyone else.
As always, the door swung inward as soon as he knocked. Stepping inside, he found Akkarin standing a few steps away, holding out a glass of wine.
Lorlen smiled and accepted the glass. “Thank you.”
Taking another glass from a nearby table, Akkarin lifted it to his lips. He regarded Lorlen over the brim. “You look tired.”
Lorlen nodded. “I’m not surprised.” He shook his head and turned away, starting toward a chair.
“Takan says dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Akkarin said. “Come upstairs.”
Moving to the left side of the room, Akkarin opened the door to the stairs and waved Lorlen through. As he climbed, Lorlen felt an uneasiness steal over him, and he was suddenly acutely aware of the black-robed magician following behind him. He pushed the feeling away and stepped into the long corridor at the top of the stairs.
Halfway along, a pair of doors stood open, inviting Lorlen into the dining room. Takan stood within. As the servant bowed, Lorlen resisted looking too closely at the man, though he’d had few opportunities to examine Takan since learning of Akkarin’s activities.
Takan moved to a chair and drew it out. Settling into it, Lorlen watched the man perform the same service for the High Lord, then hasten away.
“So what is bothering you, Lorlen?”
Lorlen looked at Akkarin in surprise. “Bothering me?”
Akkarin smiled. “You seem distracted. What is on your mind?”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lorlen sighed. “I had to make an unpleasant decision this week.”
“Oh? Is Lord Davin trying to purchase more materials for his weather experiments?”
“No—well, that too. I had to move Sonea to the Novices’ Quarters. It seemed cruel when she’s obviously not getting along well with her classmates.”
Akkarin shrugged. “She was fortunate to spend as long with Rothen as she did. Someone was bound to protest eventually. I’m surprised the issue wasn’t raised earlier.”
Nodding, Lorlen waved a hand. “It is done. I can only try to keep an eye on the situation between her and her classmates, and urge Lord Garrel to curb Regin’s antics.”