He crossed to the Guildhall, and slipped between the doors. During the week since the Invasion, the meetings of the Higher Magicians had taken place in one of the small preparation rooms at the front of the hall. Until a new Administrator was elected, it was considered inappropriate to use Lorlen's office.
Reaching the preparation room door, Rothen knocked. It swung open. As he stepped inside, he noted the magicians present, knowing that he was glimpsing the faces of the Guild's future hierarchy of power.
Lord Balkan paced the room. It was obvious from the way the others had automatically turned to him for leadership that he was a strong candidate for High Lord. Lord Osen watched Balkan calmly. Though clearly still deeply upset by
Lorlen's death, he had gained a quiet purposefulness since being given the task of organizing the city's recovery. Lorlen had been grooming Osen as his replacement for the last few years, so it would surprise no one if the young man was elected Administrator.
So many Warriors had died that only a few candidates remained for Head of Warriors. Lord Garrel had been present in the last few meetings, which Rothen felt didn't bode well for the future. Balkan had also been managing the lesser Head of Warrior Studies role, but Rothen had heard the man suggest that the position would be filled by another at a future date, so perhaps Garrel's sly, narrow-minded ways would be counter-balanced by a Warrior of more sensible character.
Lady Vinara would remain Head of Healers. Director Jer-rik had made no indication he wanted to change his position, and no one had suggested it. Lord Telano would probably remain Head of Healing Studies. No mention had been made of choosing someone for the role of Expatriate Administrator so far.
Lord Peakin would probably replace Lord Sarrin. One of the older teachers would be given the Head of Alchemic Studies position, Rothen guessed. He could not help wondering, now and then, who his direct superior would be, but most of the time he was concerned with more important matters. Like Sonea.
And she was clearly the reason the Higher Magicians had summoned him today. As Balkan noticed Rothen's entrance, he stopped pacing.
"How is she?"
Rothen sighed and shook his head. "No better. It will take time."
"We don't have time," Balkan muttered.
"I know." Rothen looked away. "But I fear what will happen if we push her."
Vinara frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure she wants to recover."
The room's occupants exchanged worried glances. Vinara did not look surprised.
"Then you must convince her otherwise," Balkan said. "We need her. If eight outcasts can do this much damage, what might an army do? Even if the Sachakan King doesn't take advantage of our weakness, it would only take one more of these Ichani to ruin us. We need a black magician. We need her—or for her to teach one of us."
It was true, but unfair on Sonea. It had only been a week since Akkarin's death. Her grief was natural. Understandable. She had been through too much. Why couldn't they leave her alone for a while?
"What about Akkarin's books?" he asked.
Balkan shook his head. "Sarrin was unable to learn from them. I have fared no better—"
'Then you must talk to her," Vinara said to the Warrior, "and when you do, you must be able to tell her exactly where she stands with us. We can't ask her to live for our sakes when her future is uncertain."
Balkan nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "You're right, of course." He looked around at the other magicians. "Very well, we must hold a Meet to discuss the position and its restrictions."
"We already have discussed it, when Sarrin was chosen," Peakin pointed out.
"The restrictions ought to be refined," Garrel said. "At the moment the only requirements are that she remain within the Guild grounds, cannot hold a position of authority, and cannot teach. It should be spelled out that she must not use her powers unless requested by us all."
Rothen resisted a smile. Us all? Garrel was certainly confident of gaining Balkan's position.
"Well, we'd have to change that rule against teaching, for a start," Jerrik added.
Vinara looked at Rothen. "What do you suggest, Rothen?"
He paused, knowing they would not like what he had to say.
"I don't think she'll agree to any restriction that keeps her within the Guild grounds."
Balkan frowned. "Why not?"
"She has always wanted to use her powers to help the poor. It was part of the reason she decided to join us and it has given her something to hold onto," he glanced sideways at Garrel, "in difficult times. If you want her to live, don't take that from her."
Vinara smiled thinly. "And I suppose if we proposed she undertake some kind of charitable work in the city, it would give her reason to stay with us."
Rothen nodded.
Balkan crossed his arms. His fingers drummed against his sleeve. "That would also help us regain the favor of the people. We didn't prove to be particularly effective defenders. I've heard that some even blame us for the invasion."
"Surely not!" Garrel exclaimed.
"It's true," Osen said quietly.
Garrel scowled. "Ungrateful dwells."
"Actually, it was certain members of the Houses who expressed that opinion on their return to the city." Osen added. "Including members of House Paren, if I recall correctly."
Garrel blinked in surprise, then flushed.
"Should we extend the area of confinement to the city, then?" Telano suggested.
"The idea of confinement was to ensure our black magician didn't have access to large numbers of victims, should he or she grow hungry for power," Peakin said. "What is the point of having an area of confinement, when it includes the highest density of population in the country?"
Rothen chuckled. "And you'd have to persuade the King to redefine what is considered part of the city. I don't think Sonea intended to restrict her help to those within the Outer Wall."
"Confinement is clearly unworkable," Vinara said. "I suggest an escort."
All eyes turned to her. Balkan nodded approvingly.
"And if the help she wants to give is Healing, she still has many years of training to complete." Vinara looked at Rothen.
He nodded. "I'm sure she's aware of that. My son has expressed a wish to teach her. He thought it might revive her,
but perhaps, if he is to assist her in this work, it could be a more official arrangement."
She pursed her lips. "It would not be appropriate for her to return to classes. It is not wise for a Healer to have only one teacher, however. I will assist as well."
Rothen nodded, suddenly too overwhelmed by gratitude to speak. He listened as the others continued the debate.
"So will we still call her the 'Black Magician' ?" Peakin asked.
"Yes," Balkan replied.
"And what color robes will she wear?"
There was a short silence.
"Black," Osen said quietly.
"But the High Lord's are black," Telano pointed out.
Osen nodded. "Perhaps it is time to change the High Lord's robes. Black will always remind people of black magic, which, despite everything, we do not want to encourage people to think of as wholly good and desirable. We need something fresh and clean."
"White," Vinara said.
Osen nodded. "Yes."
As the others voiced their agreement, Balkan made a strangled noise.
"White!" he exclaimed. "You can't be serious. It's impractical, and impossible to keep clean."
Vinara smiled. "Now what would a High Lord be involved in that might stain his white robes?"
"A little excess wine consumption, maybe?" Jerrik murmured.
The others chuckled.
"White it is, then," Osen said.
"Wait," Balkan looked from face to face, then shook his head. "Why do I find myself thinking you've made your minds up, and I won't win any argument about it?"
"It's a good sign," Vinara said. "One that suggest
s we have chosen a strong set of people to be our Higher Magicians." She looked around the group, then smiled as her eyes met Rothen's. "You still haven't guessed, have you Lord Rothen?"
He stared at her, puzzled by her sudden question. "Guessed what?"
"Of course, it still has to be put to the vote, but I don't expect anyone will protest."
"About what?"
Her smile widened. "Congratulations, Rothen. You're to be our new Head of Alchemic Studies."
From the top of the two-story house, it was possible to see that the rubble formed a perfect circle. It was a sobering sight.
Yet another to add to my list, Cery thought. Along with the ruins of the city walls, the long lines of bodies that the Guild had laid out across the lawn in front of the University, and the look Sonea had in her eyes as Rothen finally persuaded her to leave Akkarin's body.
He shivered and made himself look down again. Hundreds of workers were sorting through the rubble. A few people had been found alive, buried near the edges of the destruction. It was impossible to know how many had been hiding in the houses when they were blasted to ruins. Most were probably dead.
All because of him. He should have paid more attention to Savara's warnings about what would happen when an Ichani died. But he had been too concerned with finding a way to kill a magician to think about how his people might survive the consequences.
"Back here again?"
Arms wound about his waist. A familiar spicy aroma filled his senses. His heart lightened for a moment, then began to hurt again.
"Must you go?" he whispered.
"Yes," Savara replied. . "We could use your help."
"No. You don't need me. Certainly not as a Sachakan magician. And you have plenty of volunteers to do non-magical work."
"I need you."
She sighed. "No, Cery. You need someone you can trust, completely and unconditionally. I will never be that person."
He nodded. She was right.
But it didn't make parting easier.
Her arms tightened. "I'll miss you," she added quietly. "If... if I'm welcome, I'll drop in whenever my duties take me this way."
He turned to face her, and lifted one eyebrow as if considering.
"I might have a few bottles of Anuren dark left."
She smiled broadly and he could not help feeling better, even if it was just for a moment. Ever since the final battle, he had felt a terrible fear of loss, and he had tried to keep her from leaving. But Savara didn't belong in Kyralia. Not now. And he was letting his heart's demands overtake common-sense. That was something a Thief should never do.
Hooking a finger under her chin, he lifted her head and kissed her, slowly and firmly. Then he stepped back.
"Go on, then. Go home. I don't like long goodbyes."
She smiled, then turned away. He watched her saunter to the hatch in the roof, then descend through the ceiling below. When she was gone, he turned to regard the workers again.
Much had changed. He must be ready for the consequences. Snippets of information had come his way, and he was probably not the only one to realize what they might lead to. If the King did truly intend to end the yearly Purge, there would be one less reason for the Thieves to work together. And then there were the rumors of certain deals already being made between the other underworld leaders.
He smiled and straightened his shoulders. He had prepared for the day when Akkarin's support ended. Deals had been made with useful and powerful people. Wealth had been stowed, and information gathered. His position was strong.
Soon he would find out if it was strong enough.
The carriage rocked gently on its springs. Outside, endless fields and the occasional farmhouse slowly passed by. Inside, Dannyl and Tayend raised wineglasses to each other. "A drink to Lord Osen, who decided that you would best
serve the Guild as Ambassador in Elyne," Tayend said. "And for letting us travel overland."
"To Osen," Dannyl replied. He took a sip of the wine. "You know I would have stayed, if he'd asked me to."
Tayend smiled. "Yes, and I would have stayed with you though I'm glad I didn't need to. Kyralians are so suffocatingly conservative." He brought his glass to his lips, then looked away and his expression grew sober. "He's smart to send you back, though. A lot of people will question the Guild's authority now. It proved to be a bit ill-prepared for war."
Dannyl chuckled. "Just a bit."
"More people will be inclined to think like Dem Marane," Tayend continued. "You'll need to convince those people that the Guild is still in charge, when it comes to magic."
"I know."
"Then there's this issue of black magic. You'll have to assure people that the Guild really has no choice but to learn it again. Ah, it could get a bit intense in the next few months."
"I know."
"It might take years, even." Tayend smiled. "But, of course, there's no reason you couldn't stay in Elyne, once your time as Ambassador is over, is there?"
"No." Dannyl smiled. "Osen granted the position to me indefinitely."
Tayend's eyes widened, then he grinned. "He did? That's wonderful!"
"He said something about Elyne suiting me better than Kyralia. And that I should not let concerns about rumors stop me cherishing and enjoying our friendship."
The scholar's eyebrows rose. "Did he really? Do you think he knows about us?"
"I wonder. He didn't seem at all disapproving. But I could be reading more into his comments than he meant to say. He has just lost a good friend and mentor." Dannyl hesitated. "Though it does make me wonder how much it would really change things, if people knew."
Tayend frowned. "Now don't you get any stupid ideas
about that. If you told the Guild, and they got all scandalized and sent you away, I'd still follow you. And when I found you, I'd give you a good kick for being such an idiot." He paused, then grinned. "I love you, but I also love that you're an important Guild magician."
Dannyl chuckled. "That's just as well. I could change the important part, and even the Guild part, but the magician part doesn't come as an option."
Tayend smiled. "Oh, I doubt I'll ever change my mind about you. I think you'll have to put up with me for a very long time."
Epilogue
The black-robed magician stepped out of the newly repaired Northern Gates. As always, people stopped to stare and children yelled her name and began to follow.
Rothen watched Sonea closely. Though he was acting as Escort today, that duty was not the reason for his concern. She hadn't looked this pale since she had first locked herself away in his rooms. Sensing his gaze, she glanced at him and smiled. He relaxed a little. As he had predicted, she had gained much from the work she had begun in the slums. A little life had returned to her eyes and some purpose to her step.
The hospital by the gates had been built in a few short months. He had expected it to take some time for the dwells to overcome their hatred and distrust of magicians, but a crowd of them had appeared the day it had opened, and every day since.
Sonea was the reason. They loved her. She had come from among them, had saved the city, and had returned to the slums to help them.
Dorrien had been by her side from the start. His greater knowledge of Healing was essential, and his experience at earning the trust of farmers and foresters also helped him gain the dwells' confidence. Other Healers had joined them. It seemed Sonea was not the only magician who believed Healing should not be a service offered only to the rich Houses.
As she reached the hospital and moved inside, Lord Darlen stepped forward to greet her.
"How was the night shift?" she asked.
"Busy." He smiled ruefully. "When isn't it? Oh, I found another potential recruit. A girl of about fifteen, named Kalia. She'll return later with her father, if he agrees to let her join us."
Sonea nodded. "How are our supplies?"
"Low, as always," Darlen replied. "I'll talk to Lady Vinara when I get back.
"
"Thank you, Lord Darlen," Sonea said.
Darlen nodded, then headed to the door. Sonea paused to look around the room. Following her gaze, Rothen took in the crowd of waiting patients, the handful of guards who had been employed to manage them, and the curies who had been hired for their knowledge of medicine to help with minor cases. Sonea suddenly drew in a sharp breath, then turned to a guard standing nearby.
"That woman over there with the child wrapped in a green blanket. Bring her to me in my room."
"Yes, my lady."
Rothen started to look for the woman, but Sonea was already walking away. He followed her into a small room furnished with a table, a bed and several chairs. She sat down and drummed her fingers on the table. Rothen pulled up a chair beside her.
"You know this woman?"
She glanced at him. "Yes. It's—" She paused at a knock on the door. "Come in."
He recognized the woman instantly. Sonea's aunt smiled and took the seat on the other side of the table. "Sonea. I was hoping it would be you."
"Jonna," Sonea replied, smiling fondly—but tiredly, Rothen noted. "I wanted to come see you, but I've been so busy. How is Ranel? How are my cousins?"
Jonna looked down at the baby. "Hania has a terrible fever. I've tried everything . . ."
Sonea placed a hand gently on the baby's head. She frowned. "Yes. She's got the beginning of bluespot disease. I can give her a little boost." She was quiet for a moment. "There. You will have to wait it out, I'm afraid. Give her liq-
uids. A little marin juice mixed in will help, too." Sonea looked up at her aunt. "Jonna, would you . . . would you come live with me?"
The woman's eyes went round. "I'm sorry, Sonea. I just couldn't."
Sonea looked down. "I know you don't feel comfortable being around magicians, but. . . please consider it. I'd . . ." She glanced at Rothen. "I guess it's time you knew too, Rothen." She looked at Jonna again. "I'd like to have someone familiar and ordinary around." She nodded at the child. "I'd exchange all the Healers in the Guild just for your practical advice."
Black Magician 03 - The High Lord Page 52