Trudi Canavan - The Novice

Nodding, Sonea waited until he had moved back to his desk, then concentrated on the sphere. Unlike lighting a candle, this needed only a warming energy. Drawing in a deep breath, she shaped some magic into a gentle mist so that it would heat the glass evenly. As she released it, the liquid darkened to a deep red.

Satisfied, she looked up and found Elben in discussion with Regin.

“I don’t understand,” the boy was saying.

“Try again,” Elben said.

Regin stared at the candle in his hand, his eyes narrowing to slits.

“Lord Elben?” Sonea ventured. The teacher straightened and began to turn toward her.

“So it’s like focusing magic into the wick?” Regin asked, drawing Elben’s attention back to him.

“Yes,” Elben said, a note of impatience entering his voice. As Regin stared at his candle again, the teacher turned to look at Sonea’s sphere. He shook his head.

“Not hot enough.”

Looking down at the sphere, Sonea saw that the liquid was cooling to a purple. Frowning, she focused her will on it again, and the purple brightened to red again.

Regin jumped in his seat, and uttered a bark of surprise and pain. His candle was gone, and his hands were coated with molten wax, which he was frantically trying to peel off. Sonea felt a smile pulling at her lips, and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Are you scalded?” Elben asked, concerned. “You can go to the Healers if you wish.”

“No,” Regin said quickly. “I’m fine.”

Elben’s brows rose. He shrugged, then collected another candle and set it on Regin’s desk. “Back to work,” he snapped at the rest of the class, who were staring at Regin’s reddened hands.

Elben moved to Sonea’s desk, then looked down at the sphere and nodded.

“Go on,” he said. “Show me.”

Once again, Sonea concentrated on the sphere, and the liquid warmed. Elben nodded, satisfied. “Good. I have another exercise for you.” As he returned to the box, she saw Regin watching her. A smile pulled at her lips again, and she saw his hands clench. Then Elben rapped on the boy’s table as he passed.

“Back to work, all of you.”

Leaning back on the deck railing, Dannyl breathed in the salty air with relish.

“Sick belly not so bad outside, yai?”

He turned to find Jano approaching, the little man walking along the rocking deck with ease. As Jano reached the railing, he turned and braced his back against it.

“Magicians not get sick on boats,” Jano observed.

“We do,” Dannyl admitted. “But we can Heal it away. It takes concentration, though, and we can’t keep our minds on it all the time.”

“So... you not feel sick when you think about not feeling sick, but you not be able to think about not feeling sick always?”

Dannyl smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

Jano nodded. From high on the mast, one of the crew rang a bell and called out a few words in the Vindo tongue.

“Did he say Capia?” Dannyl asked, turning to look up.

“Capia, yai!” Jano swung around and stared into the distance, then pointed. “See?”

Dannyl gazed in the direction his companion was pointing, but could see nothing but a spray-clouded line of nondescript coast. He shook his head.

“You have better eyes than me,” he said.

“Vindo have good eyes,” Jano agreed proudly. “Why we are sea-riders.”

“Jano!” a stern voice bellowed.

“Must go.”

Dannyl watched the Vindo sailor hurry away, then turned to regard the coast again. Still unable to see the capital of Elyne, he looked down and watched the bow cutting through the waves, then let his gaze wander over the surface of the water. Throughout the voyage he had found the constant ripple of the water soothing and quite hypnotic, and had been fascinated by the way it changed color depending on the time of day, and the weather.

When he looked up again the land was closer, and he could see rows of tiny pale squares above the shore—distant buildings. A shiver ran over his skin, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He drummed his fingers on the railing as he watched the coast drawing closer.

A large gap between the buildings proved to be the entrance to a bay, well protected from the pounding waves of the sea. The houses were sprawling mansions, surrounded by walled gardens that descended in levels to a white beach. All were constructed of a pale yellow stone that glowed warmly in the morning light. As the ship drew level with the bay entrance, Dannyl caught his breath. The houses on either side formed the arms of a city that embraced the entire bay. Within, he could see grander buildings rising above a high sea wall. Domes swelled behind them and towers rose toward the sky, some linked by great stone archways.

“The captain want you to stand by him, my lord.”

Dannyl nodded at the crewman who had addressed him, then made his way along the deck, to where the captain was standing by a large wheel. The sailors were hurrying about, checking ropes and tossing Vindo words to each other.

“You asked for me, captain?”

The man nodded. “Just want you to stand here, out of way, my lord.”

Positioning himself where Numo had pointed, Dannyl watched as the man stared alternately at the coast, then the sea. Then Numo bellowed an order in his native tongue and began turning the wheel. At once the crew leapt into action. Ropes were pulled. The sails swung about, falling limp as they no longer caught the wind. The ship rocked and tilted as it turned toward the coast.

Then the sails billowed and snapped, filling with wind again. The crew bound ropes into new positions, called confirmations to each other, and settled down to wait.

When they had sailed considerably closer to the coast, the scene was repeated again. This time the ship took them through the entrance of the bay. The captain turned to regard Dannyl.

“You been to Capia before, my lord?”

Dannyl shook his head. “No.”

Numo turned and nodded at the city. “Pretty.”

Simple facades of arches and columns were visible now. Unlike the mansions of Kyralia, few of the buildings bore elaborate decoration, though some towers and domes were sculpted into subtle spiral or fan-like patterns.

“Better when sun sets,” Numo told him. “You hire boat one night and see it.”

“I will,” Dannyl replied quietly. “I definitely will.”

The captain’s mouth twitched into the closest expression of a smile that Dannyl had seen so far. It vanished quickly as the man began shouting orders again. Sails were rolled at their base to make them smaller. The ship slowed, drifting toward a gap between the thousands of watercraft that were anchored in the bay. Ahead, several ships were moored at the high sea wall.

“You get things from room now,” Numo said, glancing over his shoulder at Dannyl. “We arrive soon, my lord. Send man to tell your people you here. They come get you.”

“Thank you, captain.” Dannyl walked down the deck and below to his cabin. As he tidied his room and checked his bag he felt the ship slow and swing about. Muffled orders reached him through the roof, then everything shuddered as the hull met the wall of the wharf.

When he climbed out onto the deck again, the crew was lashing the ship to heavy iron rings on the wall. Large, bulging sacks hung from the side of the ship, protecting it from the wharf. A narrow walkway ran along the side of the wall with stairs at either end leading up to the top.

The captain and Jano stood together beside the rail. “You can be on your way now, my lord,” Numo said, bowing. “It was honor to transport you.”

“Thank you,” Dannyl replied. “It was an honor riding with you, Captain Numo,” he added in Vindo. “Sail well.”