Trudi Canavan - The Novice

The talk turned to other subjects. Remembering the boy’s gesture when he spoke of Regin, she glanced to her right. Familiar faces watched her from a few tables away. She wondered what they had thought when she hadn’t appeared for lessons that morning. They had probably expected her to fail the mid-year tests.

It had been hard work. Three months had passed since she had started at the University, and in that time she had completed six months’ work. Next, she had to catch up on the work the winter class had covered, which meant squeezing another six months’ work into three. It was not going to be easy.

Sensing her gaze, Regin looked up from his plate and stared at her. She met his gaze levelly. His eyes narrowed and he pushed his chair back.

A stab of apprehension chased away her satisfaction and she quickly looked away. What did he plan to do? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kano lay a hand on Regin’s arm. They spoke for several minutes. Regin drew his chair back to the table and Sonea let out the breath she had been holding.

She looked up as a servant offered a platter of food, then waved the woman away, her appetite gone. Regin may not be in her class any longer, but that would not stop him harassing her in the Foodhall, or on the way to and from the Novices’ Quarters. In the corner of her eye she could see him turn to stare at her again. No, she wasn’t rid of him completely.

But she had a chance to make a friend now. Looking at the faces around her, she felt a stirring of hope. She might even become friends with all of them.

Rothen felt a presence at his side and looked up.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Lord Jullen said stiffly, “but I would like to close the library now.”

“Of course.” Rothen nodded, rising. “We’ll be out as soon as we’ve packed up.”

As the librarian moved back to his desk near the door of the Magicians’ Library, Sonea sighed and closed the large book she had been reading. “I never knew people’s bodies were so complicated.”

Rothen chuckled. “This is just the beginning.”

They packed everything away efficiently. Books were snapped shut, paper was slipped into boxes, pens and ink bottles safely stowed. Rothen returned a few volumes to the library shelves, then ushered Sonea out of the library.

The University was dark and quiet, and Sonea was silent as she walked beside him. Unable to work in his rooms for fear of raising suspicions again, he had suggested they use hers instead. She had shaken her head, pointing out that Regin could easily persuade another novice to come up with a story of suspicious noises or overheard conversations.

Her suggestion of working in the Magicians’ Library was brilliant. The lessons were observed by the librarian, Lord Jullen, and she had access to books other novices needed special permission to use. Regin, like her, could only enter the library under the supervision of his guardian.

Rothen smiled. He had to admire her ability to turn a bad situation to her advantage. As they stepped outside, he surrounded them both with a shield of magic and warmed the air within. Nights were growing increasingly chilly. Fallen leaves skittered over the courtyard, making quiet scraping noises as they touched the pavement. Winter was only a month away.

Reaching the Novices’ Quarters, they walked inside. The corridor was empty and silent. Rothen escorted her to her door, then murmured a farewell. He turned away and heard the door click behind him.

He had taken only a few steps when a figure entered the corridor. Recognizing the boy, Rothen slowed and narrowed his eyes.

Their gaze locked. As Rothen passed, Regin turned his head to maintain the contact, his gaze unflinching despite the disapproval Rothen knew must show in his expression. The boy’s mouth curled upward slightly before he finally turned away.

Snorting softly, Rothen continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. Regin had only harassed Sonea once or twice since she had moved to her new room, and not at all since she had changed classes. He had hoped the boy was losing interest in her. But as Rothen considered the confidence and malevolence in the boy’s gaze he felt a growing certainty that his hopes were in vain.

—Rothen!

Recognizing the sender immediately, he froze in mid-step and almost tripped over.

—Dorrien! he replied.

—I have good news, Father. Lady Vinara has decided it’s time I reported to her again. I will be visiting the Guild soon—probably in a month or so .

Behind Dorrien’s sending were complex feelings. Rothen knew that travelling to Imardin for the sake of formality irked his son. Dorrien could not help worrying how the village he lived in would cope without a Healer for several weeks. There was also a reassuring eagerness in Dorrien’s sending. They hadn’t seen each other in over two years.

But it wasn’t just that. Every time Rothen had communicated with his son lately he had detected a reluctant curiosity. Dorrien wanted to meet Sonea.

—That is good news . Rothen smiled and continued out of the Novices’ Quarters. It’s been too long since you visited me. I’ve been wishing there was some way I could order you home .

—Father! Dorrien’s sending was tinged with half-serious suspicion. You didn’t arrange this, did you?

—No . Rothen chuckled. But I might keep it in mind for the future. I shall have your old room readied for you .

—I’ll be staying for two weeks, so be sure to stock up on that good wine from the Lake District of Elyne. I’m heartily tired of the local bol .

—Done. And bring some raka with you. I’ve heard that the raka from the Eastern District is the best. Sonea is very fond of it .

—It is the best , Dorrien said proudly. All right, raka in exchange for wine. I’ll contact you again when I leave. I must go now .

—Take care, my son .

Rothen felt the familiar presence fade from his mind. He smiled as he reached the Magicians’ Quarters. Dorrien may be curious to meet Sonea, but what would she make of him? Chuckling, he started up the stairs to his room.

“I feel better tonight,” Tayend told the ceiling of his cabin. “I told you I’d get used to it eventually.”

Looking over the narrow passage to where his friend lay, Dannyl smiled. Tayend had dozed most of the day. It had been stiflingly hot, and the evening’s humidity made sleep impossible.

“You didn’t have to suffer so long. Surely a day of seasickness would have been enough adventure for you.”

Tayend glanced at Dannyl, his expression shameful. “Yes I did.”

“You’re afraid of being Healed, aren’t you?”

The scholar gave a quick nod, more like a shiver.

“I’ve never encountered anyone who was, but I’ve heard of it happening before.” Dannyl frowned. “Can I ask why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Dannyl nodded. Rising, he stretched as best he could. It seemed that all merchant ships had cramped living spaces—which was probably due to the small stature of their makers. Most ships that roamed the seas around the Allied Lands were built and sailed by the Vindo.

It had taken two weeks to sail to Capia, and he had been heartily thankful to greet dry land again when he arrived. Lonmar’s capital city, Jebem, was four weeks’ journey from Capia, and Dannyl was already tired of his surroundings. To make things worse, there had been little wind in the last few days and the captain had informed him that the ship would be delayed as a result.

“I’m going up for some air.”

Tayend grunted a reply. Leaving the scholar, Dannyl started down the passage and entered the common room. Unlike the previous crew, this one kept quiet at night. They sat in pairs or on their own, some huddled in the bag-like beds they used. Walking past, Dannyl climbed the stairs to the door and pushed through to the deck.