“Would you be so eager to strike, if you’d seen a boy die at the hands of magicians?”
His gaze did not waver, but sharpened instead.
“Ah,” he said. “So that’s it.”
She stared at him, appalled. Would he turn even the tragedy of the Purge into another lecture? She felt anger growing, and knew she would not be able to hold her temper much longer.
“Good night, Lord Yikmo,” she said between gritted teeth. Then, turning away, she strode down the passage toward the main corridor.
“Sonea! Come back.”
She ignored him. He called after her again, anger and command in his tone. Fighting the weariness in her legs, she quickened her stride.
As she reached the corridor she felt her fury ebb. He would make her regret her rude departure, but for now she didn’t care. All she wanted was a warm bed and to sleep for days.
28
A Secret Plan
As the door opened, bright sunlight streamed in to dazzle Lorlen’s eyes. He shaded his face with a hand and followed Akkarin onto the University roof.
“We have company,” Akkarin observed.
Following his companion’s gaze, Lorlen saw a lone figure in red robes standing by the railing.
“Lord Yikmo.” Lorlen frowned. “Balkan must have given him access.”
Akkarin made a low, disapproving noise. “There are so many identities imprinted into the door, I wonder why we bother to lock it.”
He strode toward the Warrior. Lorlen hurried after, worried that Akkarin intended to remove Yikmo’s access to the roof.
“Balkan would not have granted him access if he did not regard him highly.”
“Of course. Our Head of Warriors knows that his methods of teaching are not suited to every novice. I’m sure he’s aware that Yikmo draws attention away from his own weaknesses.”
Yikmo hadn’t noticed them approaching. The Warrior leaned on the railing, his attention captured by something below. He looked up when Akkarin was a few steps away, and straightened hastily.
“High Lord. Administrator.”
“Greetings, Lord Yikmo,” Akkarin returned smoothly. “I have not seen you up here before.”
Yikmo shook his head. “I rarely come up—only when I need to think. I’d forgotten how good the view is.”
Lorlen looked around at the grounds, and at the city to one side. Letting his gaze drop to the gardens, he saw that a few novices had ventured outside for the midbreak. Though snow still covered the ground, the sun held a hint of the coming spring warmth.
Closest to them was a familiar figure. Sonea was sitting on one of the garden seats, her head bent over a book.
“The source of my contemplation,” Yikmo admitted.
“Is she improving?” Akkarin asked.
“Not as rapidly as I had hoped,” Yikmo sighed. “She still hesitates to strike. I’m starting to understand why.”
“Oh?”
Yikmo smiled crookedly. “She’s far too nice.”
“How so?”
“She’s worried that she might hurt somebody—even her enemies.” Yikmo frowned and faced the High Lord. “Last night, I discovered Regin and several other novices tormenting Sonea. They had worn her down to near exhaustion, and were using stunstrikes.”
Lorlen felt his heart skip. “Stunstrikes,” he hissed.
“I reminded them of the Guild rules, and sent them to their rooms.”
Yikmo looked at the High Lord expectantly, but Akkarin did not reply. He stared down at Sonea with a gaze so intense that Lorlen wondered how she could not sense it.
“How many novices were there?” he asked.
Yikmo looked aside as he considered. “Twelve or thirteen. I can identify most of them.”
Akkarin nodded. “That won’t be necessary. There is no need to bring further attention to the incident.” His dark gaze turned to the Warrior. “Thank you for informing me of this, Yikmo.”
Yikmo paused as if he might say something more, then nodded and moved away toward the door. When the Warrior had disappeared, Akkarin’s gaze fell to Sonea again. The corners of his lips curled upward slightly.
“Twelve or thirteen. Her strength is growing quickly. I remember a novice in my class whose power grew as fast.”
Lorlen regarded Akkarin closely. In the bright sunlight the High Lord’s pale skin looked sickly. Shadows lay under his eyes, but his gaze was sharp.
“As I recall, you progressed just as quickly.”
“I’ve often wondered if we would have, had we not been constantly trying to outdo each other.”
Lorlen shrugged. “Probably.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps the rivalry was good for us.”
“Good for us?” Lorlen gave a short laugh. “Good for you. Believe me, there was nothing good about second place. Next to you, I may as well have been invisible—at least when it came to the ladies. If I’d known we’d both end up bachelors, I wouldn’t have been so jealous of you.”
“Jealous?” Akkarin’s smile faded. He turned away to stare at the horizon. “No. Don’t be jealous.”
The reply was so faint the Administrator wondered if he had really heard it. Lorlen opened his mouth to ask why he shouldn’t be, but Akkarin’s gaze had slid to the ruined Lookout.
“How are Davin’s plans for the Lookout going?”
Sighing, Lorlen put aside the question and turned his mind back to Guild matters.
By early afternoon, Dannyl and Tayend had left the last of Capia’s shabby outer homes behind. Farms and orchards covered the hills with squares of different greens. Occasionally a patch of newly turned soil added a splash of red-brown to the pattern.
Their horses plodded along at a comfortable pace. Servants had gone ahead to announce their arrival at the first stop, the home of Tayend’s sister. Dannyl drew in a deep breath and sighed contentedly.
“It is good to be travelling again, isn’t it?” Tayend said.
Dannyl looked at his companion in surprise. “You’re actually looking forward to it?”
“Yes. Why shouldn’t I?”
“I’d thought our last journey had put you off travelling.”
Tayend shrugged. “We had some unpleasant experiences, but it wasn’t all bad. This time we’re staying inside the borders of Elyne, and on solid ground.”
“I’m sure we could find a lake or a river with boats to hire if you start to feel our trip lacks that feeling of adventure you craved.”
“Snooping around in other people’s libraries will be adventure enough,” Tayend said firmly. He looked into the distance and narrowed his eyes. “I wonder which Dem has the books we’re after.”
“If any of them do.” Dannyl shrugged. “For all we know, Akkarin could have visited a Dem somewhere else, and travelled to the mountains for a completely different reason.”
“But where did he go afterward?” Tayend glanced at Dannyl. “That’s what intrigues me the most. We know Akkarin went to the mountains. After that there is no mention of him. Not in the city records, nor in people’s recollections. I doubt that he could have slipped back into Capia in secret, and it was several years before he returned to the Guild. Did he stay in the mountains all that time? Did he travel along them, north or south? Or did he go through them?”
“Into Sachaka?”
“It would make sense. The Sachakan Empire wasn’t old enough to call ancient, but it was a highly magical society—and he may have discovered references to even older cultures.”
“We have plenty of material in our libraries about the empire,” Dannyl said. “But I doubt there is much left to find in Sachaka. What the Guild didn’t take after the war, it destroyed.”
Tayend’s brows rose. “That was nice of them.”
Dannyl shrugged. “It was a different time. The Guild was newly formed, and after the horrors of the war the magicians were determined to prevent another. They knew that if they allowed the Sachakan magicians to keep their knowledge of magic, there would be never-ending wars of vengeance between the two countries.”