Trudi Canavan - The Novice

He looked at Tayend. Rothen would say I was cunning enough to discover—or hide—any secret, he mused.

—Dannyl .

Startled, Dannyl sat up straight in the saddle. Then he recognized the personality behind the mental call and was paralyzed by disbelief.

—Dannyl .

He felt panic rush over him. Why was Akkarin calling him? What did the High Lord want? Dannyl glanced at Tayend. Or had he heard that... but, no, surely that was not important enough to—

—Dannyl .

He had to answer. He could not ignore a call from the High Lord. Dannyl swallowed hard, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he closed his eyes and sent out a name.

—Akkarin?

—Where are you?

—In the mountains of Elyne . He sent an image of the road. I offered to take over Ambassador Errend’s biannual rounds of the Dems so that I might familiarize myself with the country .

—And so that you could continue your research despite Lorlen’s orders .

It was not a question. Dannyl was surprised at the relief he felt. If Akkarin had heard rumors about Tayend and... but he quickly turned his thoughts from that.

—Yes , he confirmed, deliberately thinking of the Tomb of White Tears and the mystery of the Charkan King. I continued out of my own interest. Lorlen did not indicate that I shouldn’t .

—Clearly your duties as Ambassador are not overly time consuming .

Dannyl winced. There was a definite feeling of disapproval behind Akkarin’s communication. Was he simply concerned that Dannyl was spending too much time on research or did he resent that another magician was continuing work he had abandoned? Or was he annoyed that someone was tracing a part of his own past? Does he have something to hide?

—I want to discuss what you have found in person. Return to the Guild at once, and bring your notes with you .

Surprised, Dannyl hesitated before asking:

—What of the rest of my journey to visit the Dems?

—You will return to complete your duties afterward .

—Very well... I will have to—

—Report to me when you arrive .

A tone of dismissal told Dannyl that the conversation was over. He opened his eyes and cursed.

“What happened?” Tayend asked.

“That was Ak— the High Lord.”

Tayend’s eyes widened. “What did he say?”

“He has learned about our research.” Dannyl sighed. “I don’t think he’s happy about it. He ordered me to return.”

“Return... to the Guild?”

“Yes. With our notes.”

Tayend stared at him in dismay, then his expression hardened.

“How did he find out?”

“I don’t know.” How had he? Remembering the tale of Akkarin’s ability to read unwilling minds, Dannyl shivered again. There was a moment there, when I thought of Tayend... did he detect anything?

“I’ll go with you,” Tayend said.

“No,” Dannyl said quickly, alarmed. “Believe me, you don’t want to be dragged into this.”

“But—”

“No, Tayend. Better he doesn’t learn how much you know.” Dannyl tapped the flanks of his horse with his heels, urging it into a trot. He thought of the long weeks of riding and sailing that lay between this day and facing Akkarin. He ought to wish he could delay that moment, but instead he wanted to hurry toward it because one thought bothered him more than any other.

What would happen to Tayend if Akkarin took exception to Dannyl continuing his research? Would the High Lord’s disapproval extend to the scholar? Could Tayend lose access to the Great Library?

Dannyl did not care what consequences he might suffer, so long as Tayend was not affected. Whatever happened, Dannyl would make sure the blame rested entirely with himself.

The garden seat was warm. Putting down her box, Sonea closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of the sun on her face. She could hear the chatter of other novices, and the deeper voices of older magicians, coming nearer.

Opening her eyes, she watched as several Healers strolled down the path toward her. She recognized a few as younger graduates. They burst into laughter, then as the two at the front of the group stepped apart Sonea glimpsed a familiar face.

Dorrien!

Her heart skipped. Standing up, she hurried along one of the side paths, hoping he hadn’t seen her. She moved into a small area surrounded by hedges, and sat down on another garden seat.

She had forced Dorrien out of her thoughts, knowing that it would be months, possibly more than a year, before he visited the Guild again. But here he was only a few months after he had left. Why had he come back so soon? Had Rothen told him about Akkarin? Surely not. But perhaps he had unintentionally given Dorrien the feeling that something wasn’t right during one of their mental conversations.

She frowned. Whatever the reason, Dorrien would probably seek her out. She would have to tell him she was no longer interested in him as anything more than a friend. Now that was a conversation she would have to prepare herself for.

“Sonea.”

She jumped and looked up to find Dorrien standing in the entrance of the little garden.

“Dorrien!” She fought down panic. He must have seen her, and followed. At least she hadn’t needed to feign surprise. “You’re back already!”

He smiled and moved into the garden. “Just for a week. Didn’t Father tell you?”

“No... but we don’t see much of each other now.”

“So he said.” His smile disappeared. Sitting down, he regarded her questioningly. “He tells me you’re attending lessons at night, and spend most of your time studying.”

“Only because I’m a hopeless Warrior.”

“Not from what I’ve heard.”

She frowned. “What have you heard?”

“That you’ve been fighting several novices at once, and winning.”

Sonea winced.

“Or have I got the winning part wrong?”

“How many people know about this?”

“Most.”

Sonea cradled her head in her hands, and groaned. Dorrien chuckled and patted her lightly on the shoulder.

“Regin is at the head of this, isn’t he?”

“Of course.”

“Why hasn’t your new guardian done anything about it?”

Sonea shrugged. “I don’t think he knows. I don’t want him to know.”

“I see.” Dorrien nodded. “I suppose if Akkarin came to your rescue all the time, people would say you weren’t a good choice. The novices are all jealous of you, not realizing that they would be in the same situation if they were the High Lord’s favorite, even if they are from the Houses. Any novice he chose would be a target. Always expected to prove themselves.”

He fell silent, and she could see from his expression that he was thinking hard. “So it’s up to you to stop these novices.”

She laughed bitterly. “I don’t think baiting Regin will make any difference this time.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that.”

“So what were you thinking?”

Dorrien smiled. “You have to prove you are the best. That you can beat him at his own game. What have you done so far to get him back?”

“Nothing. I can’t do anything. There are too many of them.”

“There must be novices who don’t like him,” he pointed out. “Persuade them to help you.”

“Nobody talks to me at all now.”

“Even now? I’m surprised. Surely some have seen an advantage in being a friend of the High Lord’s favorite.”

“I wouldn’t want their company if that’s all they wanted from me.”

“But so long as you know that is the reason they’re around, why not take advantage of the situation?”