Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 03] - The High Lord

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Kyralia 01 - [Black Magician 03] - The High Lord Page 34

by Trudi Canavan


  She shrugged. “I did. But halfway to the border my people spoke to me. They decided, at my urging, that someone should stay and witness the invasion.”

  “You don’t need my help for that.”

  “No.” She sat on the edge of the desk and tilted her head to one side. “But I did say I would visit if I came back. It could be some time before the Ichani come, and I might get bored while I am waiting.”

  He smiled. “We can’t have that.”

  “I did hope you would think so.”

  “What are you offering me in return, then?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “There is a price for visiting you, now?”

  “Maybe. I just want a little advice.”

  “Oh? What advice?”

  “How can ordinary people kill magicians?”

  She gave a short laugh. “They can’t. At least, not if a magician is competent and vigilant.”

  “How can we tell if he isn’t?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You are not joking—but of course you are not.”

  He shook his head.

  She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So long as I don’t reveal my people’s hand in this, I see no reason why I shouldn’t help you.” She smiled crookedly. “And I am sure you will find a way, even if I don’t. You might get killed trying, though.”

  “I’d rather avoid that,” Cery told her.

  She grinned. “I’d rather you did, too. Well, then, if you keep me informed of what’s going on in the city, I’ll give you advice on killing magicians. Does that sound reasonable?”

  “It does.”

  She crossed her arms and looked thoughtful. “I cannot tell you a sure way to kill an Ichani, however. Only that they are no different from ordinary people in that they make mistakes. You can trick them, if you know how. All it takes is courage, bluff, and some considerable risks.”

  Cery smiled. “Sounds like the sort of work I’m used to.”

  “I hear water.”

  Akkarin turned to regard Sonea, but his face was in shadow and she couldn’t see his expression.

  “Go on, then,” he replied.

  She listened carefully, then moved toward the sound. After so many days in the mountains, she could now recognize the faintest noise of water trickling over rock. Drawn to the shadows of a recess in the rock wall they had been following, she stared intently into the darkness and felt her way forward.

  She saw the tiny stream of water at the same time as she saw the break in the wall. A narrow gap led to an open space. Rock scraped across her back as she squeezed through. When she’d made her way out to the other side of the gap, she gave a low exclamation of surprise.

  “Akkarin,” she called.

  She stood at the edge of a tiny valley. The sides sloped gently up to steeper rocky walls. Stunted trees, bushes and grass grew along a narrow stream that gurgled cheerfully down to disappear into a crack several strides away.

  Hearing a grunt, she turned to see that Akkarin was having some difficulty forcing himself through the gap in the rock wall. He freed himself, then straightened and gazed at the valley appreciatively.

  “Looks like a good place to spend the night—or the day,” she said.

  Akkarin frowned. They had continued walking toward the South Pass long into the morning for the last three days, conscious of the Ichani travelling behind them. Sonea worried constantly that Parika would catch up, but she doubted that he would travel at such a punishing pace unless he had good reason to.

  “It may be a dead end,” Akkarin observed. He did not move back to the gap, however. Instead he started toward the trees.

  A loud squawk rang out, echoing in the valley. Sonea jumped as a large white bird arced out of a nearby tree. The bird suddenly twisted in the air. Sonea heard a faint snap, then watched it plummet to the ground.

  Akkarin chuckled. “I guess we will be staying.”

  He strode forward and picked up the creature. As Sonea saw the huge eyes of the bird, she gasped in surprise.

  “A mullook!”

  “Yes.” Akkarin smiled crookedly. “Ironic. What would the King say if he knew we were eating his House incal?”

  He continued up the stream. After several hundred paces, they reached the end of the valley. Water trickled over a looming cliff overhang to form the stream.

  “We’ll sleep under that,” Akkarin said, pointing to the overhang. He sat down by the stream and began pulling the feathers from the bird.

  Sonea looked down at the springy grass under her feet, then up at the hard stone under the overhang. Dropping into a crouch, she began tearing up handfuls of grass. As she carried armloads to their sleeping place, the smell of roasting meat drifted to her nose and set her stomach rumbling.

  Leaving the mullook cooking in a floating globe of heat, Akkarin moved to one of the trees. He stared up at the branches, and they began to shake. Sonea heard a dull patter, then saw Akkarin crouch and examine the ground. She moved to his side.

  “These nuts are hard to open, but quite tasty,” he told her, holding one out. “Keep gathering them. I think I saw some stingberries farther down.”

  The moon hung low in the sky. In the growing darkness, it was hard to find the nuts. She resorted to groping around until she felt their smooth roundness under her fingers. Gathering them in the front of her shirt, she carried them to the cooking mullook, and soon worked out how to crack the shells without crushing the soft nuts inside.

  Akkarin returned soon after, carrying a rough stone bowl filled with berries and a few stalks. The berries were covered in nasty looking spines.

  Between shelling nuts, Sonea watched as Akkarin lifted the berries with magic and carefully peeled off the skin and spines. Soon the bowl was half filled with the dark flesh of the fruit. Next he set to work on the stalks, peeling away the fibrous outer layer.

  “I think we’re ready for our feast,” he said. He handed her two of the stalks. “This is shem—Not particularly tasty, but edible. It’s not good to live on just meat.”

  Sonea found the inside of the stalks pleasantly juicy, if not flavorsome. Akkarin divided up the mullook, which contained more meat than any of the other birds they had eaten. The nuts proved to be as delicious as he had promised. Akkarin crushed the berries, then added water to the pulp to make a tart drink. When they had finished, Sonea felt full for the first time since they had entered Sachaka.

  “It’s amazing how something as simple as a meal can be so good.” She sighed contentedly. The valley was almost completely hidden in darkness now. “I wonder what this place looks like in the daylight.”

  “You’ll find out in an hour or so,” Akkarin replied.

  He sounded tired. She looked at him, but his face was in shadow.

  “Time to sleep, then,” she said. She drew on enough Healing power to chase away her own weariness, then held out her hands. He didn’t take them at first, and she wondered if he could see her in the darkness. Then she felt his warm fingers wrap around hers.

  She drew in a deep breath, then sent power to him, taking care not to exhaust herself. Not for the first time, she wondered if he had accepted her decision to take the first watch to ensure she didn’t give him too much power. If she exhausted herself, she wouldn’t be able to stay awake.

  As she felt her power ebb, she stopped and pulled her hands away. Akkarin remained still and silent, making no move toward the grass bed she had prepared.

  “Sonea,” he said suddenly.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for coming with me.”

  She caught her breath, then felt her heart swell with pleasure. He remained silent for several minutes, then drew in a short breath.

  “I regret separating you from Rothen. I know he was more like a father than a teacher.”

  Sonea stared at his shadowed face, searching for his eyes.

  “It was necessary,” he added softly.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I understand.”

  “But you didn’t understand then
,” he said wryly. “You hated me.”

  She chuckled. “That’s true. I don’t any more.”

  He said no more, but after a short pause he rose and moved to the overhang and lay down on the grass bed. For a long time she sat in darkness. Eventually the sky began to lighten and the stars fade and disappear. She wasn’t bothered by sleepiness, and she knew her Healing power wasn’t solely responsible for that. Akkarin’s sudden thanks and apology had stirred up the hopes and wishes she had been trying to smother for days.

  Little fool, she scolded herself. He’s just being kind. Just because he has finally acknowledged your help, and regrets what he did to you, doesn’t mean he considers you as anything more than a useful but unwanted companion. He’s not interested in you otherwise, so stop torturing yourself.

  But no matter how hard she had tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help feeling a thrill every time he touched her, or even looked at her. And it didn’t help that she kept catching him watching her.

  She wrapped her arms around her knees and drummed her fingers on her calves. When she had lived in the slums, she had assumed she knew everything she needed to know about men and women. Later, Healing lessons had shown her how little she had really understood. Now she found that even the Healers hadn’t taught her anything useful.

  But then, perhaps they hadn’t told her how to stop feeling this way because it wasn’t possible. Perhaps…

  A low noise, like a growl, echoed through the valley. Sonea froze, her mind now suddenly still, and stared out into the gloom. The sound came again, from behind, and she rose and spun about in one movement. As she realized the sound had come from somewhere near Akkarin, she felt a flash of fear. Was some night creature stalking him? She hurried forward.

  Reaching the overhang, she peered into the gloom and saw no creature poised to attack. Akkarin’s head was rolling from side to side. As she drew closer, he moaned.

  She stopped and regarded him with dismay. He was having another nightmare. Relief and concern filled her. She wondered if she should wake him, but it had always been so clear from his expression after waking that he didn’t like her witnessing these moments of weakness.

  For that matter, she thought, I don’t either.

  Another moan escaped him. Sonea winced as it echoed loudly in the valley. Sound carried far in the mountains, and she did not like to imagine who might be listening. As he uttered another low cry, she came to a decision. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not, she had to wake him up before he attracted unwanted attention.

  “Akkarin,” she whispered hoarsely. He stilled and she thought she had woken him, but then he tensed all over.

  “No!”

  Alarmed, Sonea drew closer. His eyes roved under his eyelids. His face contorted in pain. She reached toward him, intending to shake him awake.

  The sting of a shield met her fingers. She saw his eyes fly open, then felt a force slam into her, throwing her up into the air. Something hard slammed into her back, then she dropped to the ground. Pain lanced down her arms and legs.

  “Ow!”

  “Sonea!”

  She felt hands pushing her over onto her back. Akkarin stared at her.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She examined herself. “No, just bruised, I think.”

  “Why did you wake me?”

  She looked down at his hands. Even in the gloom she could see they were shaking. “You were dreaming. A nightmare…”

  “I am used to them, Sonea.” he said quietly, his voice controlled and calm. “They are no reason to wake me.”

  “You were making a lot of noise.”

  He paused, then straightened.

  “Go to sleep, Sonea,” he said in a low voice. “I will watch.”

  “No,” she said irritably. “You’ve barely slept—and I know you won’t wake me up when it’s your turn to sleep.”

  “I will. I give you my word.”

  He leaned forward and offered her a hand. Taking it, she let him haul her to her feet. A bright light dazzled her, and she realized that the rising sun was just beginning to crest the rock wall at the base of the valley.

  Akkarin stilled. Sensing that something had caught his attention, she squinted at him, but he was a dark shape against the brightness. Instinctively, she sought him with her mind instead. At once she saw an image.

  A face, framed by hair shining in the morning sunlight.

  Eyes…so dark…and pale, perfect skin…

  It was her own face, but it was unlike any reflection she had seen in a mirror. Her eyes held a mysterious shine, her hair seemed to ripple as if moving in a breeze, and her lips surely did not curve so invitingly…

  He snatched his hand away and took a step back.

  This is how he sees me, she thought suddenly. There was no mistaking the desire she had sensed. She felt her own heart racing. All this time, I resisted because I thought it was just me, she thought. And so has he.

  She took a step toward him, then another. He watched her intently, frowning. She willed him to see beyond her eyes, to sense her own thoughts, and that she knew his. His eyes widened with surprise as she stepped very close. She felt his hands encircle her arms, then tighten as she rose up on the balls of her feet, and kissed him.

  He went very still. Leaning against him, she felt his heart beating quickly. His eyes closed, then he pulled away.

  “Stop. Stop this,” he breathed. He opened his eyes and stared at her intently.

  Despite the words, his hands still held her arms tightly as if reluctant to let go of her. Sonea searched his face. Had she read him wrong? No, she was sure of what she had sensed.

  “Why?”

  He frowned. “This is wrong.”

  “Wrong?” she heard herself ask. “How? We both feel…feel…”

  “Yes,” he said softly. He looked away. “But there is more to consider.”

  “Like?”

  Akkarin released her arms and took a step back. “It would not be fair—to you.”

  Sonea considered him carefully. “Me? But—”

  “You’re young. I am twelve—no, thirteen—years older than you.”

  Suddenly his hesitation made sense. “That is true,” she answered carefully. “But women in the Houses are matched with older men all the time. Much older men. Some when they’re as young as sixteen. I’m nearly twenty.”

  Akkarin seemed to struggle with himself. “I am your guardian,” he reminded her sternly.

  She could not help smiling. “Not any more.”

  “But if we return to the Guild—”

  “Will we cause a scandal?” She chuckled. “I think they’re getting used to that.” She hoped he would smile at that, but he only frowned. She sobered. “You speak as if we’ll go back and everything will be the same again. Even if we return, nothing will ever be as it was for us. I am a black magician. So are you.”

  He winced. “I am sorry. I should never have—”

  “Don’t apologize for that,” she exclaimed. “I chose to learn black magic. And I didn’t do it for you.”

  Akkarin regarded her silently.

  She sighed and turned away. “Well, this is going to make things awkward.”

  “Sonea.”

  She looked back and stilled as he stepped closer. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She felt her pulse quicken at the touch.

  “Either of us could die in the next few weeks,” he said quietly.

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “I’d be happier knowing you were safe.”

  Sonea narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled.

  “No, I will not start that argument again, but…you test my loyalties, Sonea.”

  She frowned, not understanding. “How?”

  He reached out and ran a finger across her brow. “It doesn’t matter.” The corner of his mouth curled upward. “It’s too late, anyway. I started to fail that test the night you killed the Ichani.”

  She blinked in surprise. Did that mean…? for th
at long…?

  He smiled. She felt his hands slip around her waist. As he pulled her closer, she decided her questions could wait. She reached up and traced the curl in his lips with the tip of her finger. Then he leaned forward and his mouth met hers, and all questions were forgotten.

  25

  A Chance Encounter

  Gorin, Rothen had discovered, were frustratingly slow walkers. The enormous beasts were the favorite of merchants, however. They were strong, docile and easy to handle and direct and much more resilient than horses.

  But they were impossible to hurry. Rothen sighed and glanced back at Raven, but the spy was dozing among the sacks of cloth in the cart, a wide-brimmed hat covering his face. Rothen allowed himself a smile and turned his attention back to the road. The previous night, they had hired rooms above a bolhouse in a town called Coldbridge. The spy, posing as Rothen’s cousin, had drunk more bol than anyone ought to be able to, then spent the night swaying from his bed to the piss drain and back again.

  Which probably meant Raven was doing a much better job at playing the part of intrepid merchant than Rothen was. Or am I supposed to be the sensible older cousin?

  Rothen adjusted his shirt. The closely fitting garment was much less comfortable than robes. He was grateful for his traveller’s hat, however. Though it was early morning, the day was promising to be a hot one.

  A haze of dust hung in the air over the road and blurred the horizon. No mountains had appeared in the distance, though he had been travelling for two days. Rothen knew that the road ran near-straight to Calia, where it split into two. Turn left and it took you north to the Fort; turn right and you headed northeast to the South Pass. That was where he and Raven were headed.

  It seemed strange to be travelling northeast to a southern pass, Rothen mused. The route was probably named for its location in the mountains, not for its general position in Kyralia. He had come close to it once, while visiting his son during the summer break five years ago.

  He frowned as he thought of Dorrien. His son was watching the road to the Pass, and a meeting was inevitable. Rothen would have to explain where he was going, and why, and Dorrien wasn’t going to like it.

 

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