“I hoped we could talk as friends, but instead we speak as if we are our nations. I should go.” But he didn’t move away. He chewed his lip. “I can at least assure you that Lorkin is fine. The king won’t dare to harm him. Don’t stop trying to see him, though. Goodbye, for now.”
“Good night.” Dannyl watched the Ashaki walk to the entrance corridor and disappear. He waited until he heard the front door open and close, then moved to the chairs, sat down and let out a long breath.
“I know you won’t like me saying so, but I don’t buy any of that.”
Looking up at the voice, Dannyl frowned as Tayend moved into the room.
“How long were you spying for?”
“Long enough.” Tayend moved to a chair and sat down. “You don’t believe him, do you?”
Dannyl considered. “Which part?”
“That he wants to be your friend only for the sake of being friends.”
“I don’t know.”
“Surely you don’t trust him?”
Dannyl spread his hands. “Trust was never part of it.”
The Elyne’s eyebrows rose. “Well, then. Perhaps I should have asked if you still like him?”
Looking away, Dannyl shrugged. “I haven’t made up my mind. However I decide, it won’t stop me obeying orders or helping Lorkin.”
Tayend nodded. “I know it won’t. I admit I was worried about you, but you are still your old self, underneath.”
Dannyl straightened in protest. “Underneath what?”
The Elyne stood up, waving one hand in Dannyl’s direction. “All... that.”
“I’m reeling at your descriptive clarity,” Dannyl told him.
Tayend opened his mouth to say more, then closed it again and shook his head. “Never mind. I’m going back to my room. I have a trade agreement to negotiate. Are you still copying your notes?”
“Yes. No. I’ve run out of ink again. The slaves mustn’t have refilled the bottle this morning.”
“Actually, they put the last of the House’s supply in my pot last night. I sent one off to buy more this morning but he came back empty-handed.” Tayend’s expression became serious. “It was hard to get any sense out of him. Seems someone took it off him, but he claimed he didn’t know who in that way people do when they’re lying and they want you to know it.”
Dannyl frowned. “Someone took it from him? A thief?”
“Or someone working for the king. Maybe they don’t want us writing-up documents.”
A chill ran down Dannyl’s spine. “Or making copies of research notes.”
“Surely not. How would they know you were doing that?”
“The slaves,” Dannyl replied.
Tayend’s eyes narrowed. “Who won’t know you’re only writing about your research, not about Lorkin’s discoveries.”
Dannyl sighed. “I’m not going to be able to get that second copy to the Guild safely, am I?”
“I could be wrong about the king’s men taking the ink,” Tayend said. He looked at Dannyl thoughtfully. “Or not. Maybe you had better lock those notes up with magic in case the slaves are ordered to steal them from you.” He took a step toward the corridor, then stopped and looked back. “I’ll bring my ink pot over for you. Maybe Merria or I can get more ink from our Sachakan friends.”
Chapter 10
No Good Choices
Lorkin lay on the hard, cold floor of the cell and tried not to listen to the slave woman struggling to breathe. I don’t even know her name, he thought. Surely he should at least know the name of the woman who was suffering so much pain because of him. Because of the Traitors as much as me, he reminded himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. Not when he was deliberately avoiding Healing her.
If he did, the interrogator would hurt her all over again.
If he didn’t, she might die. Then the interrogator would find another slave to hurt. At first Lorkin had reasoned that it was better for fewer people to be hurt and killed than more, but she had hissed at him to stay away when he’d approached her, and again when he’d tried to explain that he could at least stop the pain. Though she could not have stopped him Healing her, if she wanted to escape her predicament by dying he felt he ought to respect her wishes. Or perhaps, eventually, the pain would be too much and she would ask him to help her.
It had been a very long day. One horrible moment was followed by another, and another. Time stretched out beyond his ability to judge its passing. At times he felt as if he was trapped in a nightmare that would never end. The interrogator didn’t appear to tire of his work, or run out of ways to cause a human as much pain as possible while causing minimal damage. Lorkin had seen things he would never forget. He had heard sounds that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He had smelled aromas no civilized person should ever smell.
He knew sleep was beyond possible, but he tried. When he gave up on trying, he pretended he was asleep.
A contorted hiss came from the slave and he was instantly alert, heart beating fast. He told himself she was just voicing the pain, not calling for attention, but the same pattern of sounds came again. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned to look at her.
She was lying on her side, curled up and cradling her broken arm. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him. As he met her gaze her lips moved and though no sound came the words were clear, as if she’d spoken in his mind. He went cold all over at their meaning.
Kill me.
He stared back at her in disbelief. No, not disbelief. Death is the only escape she is going to get. I can stop the pain, if she’ll let me, but that is only the physical part of torture. I can’t stop the horror, humiliation and fear.
But...
His insides twisted. I can’t kill her. He felt guilt deepen and turned away. It’s all my fault. He shook his head. No. It isn’t. But I can’t pretend I’m not partly responsible for what’s happening to her. If there’s anything I can do...
Anything? But I’ve never killed anybody. It’s not that I wouldn’t if I had to defend myself or someone else, but to kill someone who isn’t trying to hurt anyone is wrong.
Her lips shaped the plea again.
He remembered his mother’s words, from long ago: “As Healers we can do much to prevent death, but the limits of what we can do sometimes clash with what we should do. When a person is beyond saving and only wishes to die, keeping them alive is a kind of cruelty.”
Listening to the slave’s shuddering breaths, he knew it was cruel to let her suffer with no hope of escape.
How would I even do it? The Ashaki guard was sitting outside the cell, watching them. Whatever Lorkin did, it would have to be gentle and subtle enough that it didn’t attract attention.
I can’t believe I am actually contemplating it.
Eventually the slave’s death would be noticed. What would they do once they knew Lorkin had killed her? He felt a traitorous relief as the answer came to him. She is the king’s property – or somebody’s. I don’t know how bad a crime it is to destroy someone’s property, but it would definitely be something they’d hold against me.
Perhaps they were hoping he’d kill her. Perhaps it would give them the excuse they needed to read his mind, or worse. Once he was officially a criminal they could do anything to him.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that this was their plan. Why else were they locking her in the cell with him every night? If he went on Healing her he would soon use up all the power Tyvara had given him. But that couldn’t be their only aim. There were plenty of other ways they could sap his strength, if that was what they wanted. If they only intended to break his resolve by torturing others, why leave the slave woman in his cell? They could always lock her up close by, just out of reach, so he witnessed her suffering but couldn’t help her.
Suddenly he wanted to kill her, just to spite them.
No, I don’t, he told himself quickly, shuddering at the thought he might be turned into a murderer so easily.
“Kill me,” came the whisper again. It sent a shiver down his spine.
Was there a way he could kill her that would leave no evidence he had done it? If the injuries the interrogator gave her are bad enough... No, he would have made sure they weren’t. Yet from the sound of her breathing something inside her chest was damaged. Perhaps a rib was cracked or broken. If he could manipulate it...
But that would be using Healing power to kill. Healers were supposed to heal, not harm.
Well, that’s always been a complicated philosophy. Cutting open a body to remove a tumour involves harming in order to heal. And then there’s the argument for helping people die. And my mother used Healing in defence, to kill some of the Ichani invaders.
“Www...”
A soft scraping noise came from the girl, and he reluctantly turned his head to look at her again. She was reaching toward him. No, he corrected himself, she’s reaching toward my legs.
“Wwwater,” she gasped.
Relief came as he realised that now she was only asking for something to drink. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. The food-bearing slave had brought a meal. Lorkin had tried to share it with the slave woman but she’d refused to eat. He reached for the jar of water and froze, remembering the warning glyphs that had indicated it was unsafe.
I wonder how unsafe...
He shrank from the thought, but it sprang straight back into his mind. If the water was poisoned and she drank it, she might gain the death she wanted without anyone but him knowing it was his fault. Well, except for the Traitors who left the warning. He felt a shiver go up his spine.
If the slave woman was a Traitor, she might know about the warnings. She might know the water would kill her. He turned to look at her. She gazed back at him, her eyes seeming to say, Yes. Free me.
If she was a Traitor, they must know she was here. Had they provided her with a means to kill herself?
But would the water kill her? He dropped his arm. The Ashaki must be the one adulterating Lorkin’s food. Surely they weren’t trying to kill him? He was of no use to them dead. Most likely the poison in the water was meant to make him sick, or force him to use up more strength by Healing himself. Still, they might reason that the stronger the toxin, the more magic he would be forced to use. It could be a lethal dose.
The woman made a low noise and stretched her unbroken arm toward the bottle. Outside the cell, the watcher eyed them both.
Kill me. Free me.
Lorkin looked from her to the water. He had to make a choice. And there was no right one. No matter what he decided, the consequences would be shocking. No matter what he decided, afterwards he would never be the same person again.
* * *
By the way Lilia had admitted to telling Sonea’s aunt that Cery, Gol and Anyi were living under the Guild, it was clear she thought they would be angry. Which is amusing and endearing, considering that she is a magician and we are mere commoners, Cery thought. She had paced a little as she explained how the servant had followed her and the discussion it had led to. Now she looked surprised that nobody was concerned by the news.
“Better that Jonna knows, than anybody else up there,” Anyi said. “In fact, she could be useful.”
“Jonna never liked me,” Cery told them. “But that was back when I was a youngster and she thought I was leading Sonea astray. She knew I was slipping into Sonea’s room now and then these last twenty years, but she never told anybody about it. Good odds she can be trusted.”
“If Sonea trusts her, I reckon she’s all right,” Gol agreed.
Lilia’s eyes had lit up with a peculiar light. “You’ve been seeing Sonea for the last twenty years?” she asked Cery.
He shrugged. “Of course. You didn’t think some rule about associating with criminals would stop her talking to her old friends, did you?”
“No, I can’t see that stopping either of you. I wonder what people would say if they knew. It would be a scandal, I’m sure.” Lilia smiled and sat down next to Anyi. “They’d also finally know why Sonea never got married.”
Cery frowned as he realised she had assumed his visits had been romantic. “Wait. I didn’t... that’s not what I was visiting her for.”
Gol began to laugh. “You certainly made it sound like it was. For a moment there I thought you’d managed to hide something from me all this time.”
Anyi shook her finger at Lilia. “My father was happily married for most of the last twenty years,” she said indignantly. Then she grimaced. “Well, during the second marriage, anyway – but he was married to my mother before that, even if it wasn’t exactly what you’d call ‘happily’ married.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest he was unfaithful,” Lilia apologised.
Gol chuckled in a knowing way.
It was time to change the subject, Cery decided. “I’ve been thinking about what we should do next,” he said. Immediately all eyes turned to him. Anyi looked eager, Lilia relieved and Gol narrowed his eyes, no doubt ready to find the holes in whatever schemes Cery thought up. “What we should do is obvious, once I started thinking less about how we are stuck here and more about how we can turn being here to our advantage.”
Now Lilia was looking a little worried.
“We’re safe here – not because Skellin won’t have guessed we sought the Guild’s protection but because he won’t risk coming here,” he continued. “He’ll assume if we’re here we’re in one of the Guild buildings, under magical protection. If he learned that we were under the Guild, and that the magicians don’t know we’re here, he’d would slip in and kill us all – and feel smug that he did it without the Guild noticing.”
“But the Guild would notice,” Anyi pointed out. “Lilia knows we’re here and will stop him, or if she can’t then she’d get help.”
“Yes, but Skellin doesn’t know that,” Cery pointed out.
Gol gave a low growl. “No,” he said.
Cery turned to his friend, amused by the one-word disapproval. “Why not?”
“This is our last and only safe place,” Gol said. “We can’t risk losing it.”
“We do have one more safe place.” Cery pointed upwards. “The protection Skellin thinks we’re enjoying.” He gestured around them. “This, here, is our last and only chance to lure him into a trap.”
“A trap that, if it goes wrong, will see you dead,” Gol said.
“Lilia will protect him,” Anyi said, her eyes bright with the prospect of finally doing something.
Lilia nodded. “And Kallen. You are planning to tell Kallen, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Cery replied. “It’s a bit much to ask Lilia to shoulder all the burden of magical protection or to confront two rogue magicians, if Skellin brings his mother along.”
Anyi rubbed her hands together eagerly. “So what will we use as bait?”
Gol snorted. “It’s obvious. Your father intends to lure Skellin here with something he wants more than anything else.”
Lilia’s face went a little pale. “Black magic?”
“No,” Gol said. “Skellin wants to know he has full control of the entire underworld. If he finds out Cery is alive, he’ll know there’s always the danger Cery will try to get it back – with Guild help. He’ll risk a lot to kill him.”
Anyi’s eager grin vanished. She stared at Cery, searching his face as if hoping for a sign he was joking. When he nodded she scowled and crossed her arms. “Gol’s right. That is too much of a risk.”
“What else do you suggest? What else would tempt him to risk coming this close to the Guild?”
Anyi looked at Lilia. “Black magic—”
“He won’t risk trying to capture her. She could be many times stronger than him. In fact, for this to work it has to be obvious that Lilia isn’t here. He might believe the Guild doesn’t know I’m here, but he won’t as easily believe she doesn’t. Lilia will have to be seen somewhere else before he’ll come looking for me.”
“But you’ll need a magic
ian here,” Lilia pointed out. “Or you won’t be able to stop him killing you all.”
He nodded. “Yes. Kallen. Tell him that we have a plan to trap Skellin and ask how we should contact him when we’re ready. Don’t tell him where the trap will be sprung of course. I have a feeling he’d decide keeping people out of these passages is more important than catching Skellin.”
Lilia nodded. Anyi was shaking her head. “I don’t like it,” she said.
Cery crossed his arms. “Why?”
“I...” She looked away and scowled. Abruptly she got up, grabbed a lamp and stalked out of the room.
The room was silent for several heartbeats. Lilia glanced at Cery and Gol, then hurried after her.
Cery stared at the empty doorway. His heart twisted in a way that was both painful and pleasant. He did not want to risk anybody’s life. Certainly not his own. But they could not stay here forever.
Thinking back, he remembered the angry, defiant young woman he had tried to keep in contact with after parting from her mother. Anyi had hated him – or at least she had behaved as if she did. Knowing that he had somehow won her over was a bittersweet pleasure. It had come at the price of her safety.
But then, being related to him was all it took to make life dangerous, especially while a rogue magician Thief ruled the underworld, and that rogue hated Cery.
“For once your daughter and I agree,” Gol said in a low voice. “It is too dangerous.”
“Let’s see what Kallen says to that,” Cery replied.
* * *
Within a few paces, Anyi slowed down to let Lilia catch up, but did not stop walking.
“Are you all right?” Lilia asked.
Anyi shook her head. “No. Yes. I... I need to think.”
Her tone suggested that she wasn’t in the mood for talking, so Lilia stayed silent. She drew magic to create a globe light, and Anyi wordlessly turned her lamp’s flame down low to conserve oil. They didn’t travel far. After a few hundred paces Anyi’s stride became purposeful and soon it became clear she was leading Lilia to some rooms nearer to the University that she’d recently discovered.
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