Trudi Canavan - The Novice

Gathering power, he released it in a spray of stunstrikes. A shower of leeches fell back into the sea. They would probably survive the stunstrike, but he did not want to risk using forcestrike or firestrike on the hull. As more leeches fell away the ship slowly righted itself, then began to tilt toward the other side.

Crossing the deck, Dannyl leaned over the railing on the other side. Once more he forced the leeches to loose their hold, and the ship straightened again. As he made his way back to the port side, Dannyl noted that the sailors had turned their efforts to cleaning leeches off the deck. One man was roaming about dealing with the ones that had curled around ropes or slipped into cracks or corners.

The sense of danger had passed, but the grim work continued endlessly as the leeches kept climbing onto the ship. Soon Dannyl lost count of the times he had crossed the deck. He refreshed himself with Healing magic, but as the hours passed his head began to ache from the constant mental exertion.

At last the onslaught lessened and dwindled, and only a few sluggish leeches remained. Hearing his name called, he straightened and turned to see that all was lit by the faint light of dawn. A small crowd had gathered around him. The captain raised his arm, then a cheer rose among the sailors.

Surprised, Dannyl smiled, then joined in the cheering. He felt exhaused, but also elated.

From somewhere a small barrel was produced, and a mug was passed from sailor to sailor. As Dannyl accepted the mug, he smelled the familiar tang of real siyo. The mouthful sent warmth spreading through him. He looked around for Tayend, but the scholar was nowhere in sight.

“Your friend sleeps,” one of the sailors said.

Relieved, Dannyl accepted another mouthful of siyo. “Do you encounter eyoma often?”

“Now and then,” the captain said, nodding. “Not like this.”

“Never seen swarm so big,” another sailor agreed. “Good that you passenger. If not with us, we be fish bait today.”

The captain looked up suddenly and said something in Vindo. As the crew moved to the ropes, Dannyl realized that a mild wind had risen. The captain looked exhausted, but pleased.

“You get sleep now,” he suggested to Dannyl. “Helped us good. May need help tonight.”

Nodding, Dannyl made his way to his cabin. He found Tayend asleep, a frown creasing the scholar’s forehead. He paused, concerned to see dark circles under the young man’s eyes. He wished that he could heal his friend, then considered administering a little Healing power while Tayend was asleep.

But to do so would be a betrayal of trust, and Dannyl did not want to risk ruining this new friendship. Sighing, he lay down on his own bed, closed his eyes and gave in to exhaustion.

Sweet juice filled Sonea’s mouth as her teeth broke through the skin of the pachi. She held the yellow fruit between her teeth and turned the pages of Poril’s book until she found the right diagram.

“There it is,” she said after taking the fruit out of her mouth again. “The blood system. Lady Kinla said we had to memorize all the different parts.”

Poril looked down at the page and groaned.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “We’ll work out some way to help you remember. Rothen has shown me some really useful exercises for remembering lists.”

Seeing his doubtful expression, Sonea smothered a sigh. She had quickly discovered why Poril was having trouble with his studies. He was neither smart nor strong, and tests sent him into fits of terror. Worst of all, he was so demoralized by this that he had given up trying.

But he was also hungry for companionship. Though she had not seen the other novices being deliberately cruel to the boy, they obviously didn’t like him. He was from House Heril, which was out of favor in court for reasons she had not yet discovered. She didn’t think that was why he was avoided, however. He had several irritating habits, the worst being a ridiculous, high-pitched laugh that set her teeth on edge.

The rest of the class ignored her, too. She had quickly realized they were not purposefully avoiding her though, and that they did not dislike her in the way they disliked Poril. It was simply that each had formed a close friendship with another classmate, and had no wish to include a third.

Trassia and Narron were clearly more than just friends. Sonea had seen them holding hands a few times, and noted that Lord Ahrind kept a close watch on the pair. Narron was already determined to become a Healer, and his results in that subject were the best in the class. Trassia was also most interested in Healing, but in a passive way that suggested her interest was due only to Narron’s enthusiasm—or the expectation that women were most suited to Healing.

The only Elyne in the class, Yalend, spent his time with the talkative Vindo boy, Seno. Hal, the stiff-faced Lan boy, and his Kyralian friend, Benon, formed the other pair. Though quieter than the boys in Regin’s class, these four still talked endlessly about the horse races, told unlikely stories about girls in court, and fooled about as if they hadn’t reached the end of their childhood.

Which they hadn’t, she was coming to understand. The children of the slums grew up fast because they had to. These novices had lived their lives in the midst of luxury, and had less reason to mature quickly than their brothers and sisters outside the Guild.

Until they graduated, they were free from family responsibilities, such as presenting themselves at court, marriage, and managing whatever income-producing “interests” in farming or manufacturing their family was involved in. Joining the Guild extended their childhood for an extra five years.

Though Poril was a year older, he was sometimes the most childish of all the novices. His friendliness seemed genuine, but she suspected he was pleased that he wasn’t the novice from the lowest social background anymore.

Regin, to her surprise and relief, had ignored her since she had left his class. She glimpsed him in the Foodhall each day, and occasionally saw his gang gathering in the corridors before classes, but he didn’t attempt to harass her. Even the rumor that had circulated concerning her relationship with Rothen had been forgotten. Teachers no longer eyed her with suspicion, and she rarely heard Rothen’s name whispered as she walked down the corridor.

“If only we knew which parts she’ll ask us to name,” Poril sighed. “The big ones, I suppose—and a couple of small ones.”

Sonea shrugged. “Don’t waste your time trying to guess what she’ll ask. It will take as much effort as memorizing them all.”

A gong rang out. Through the trees, Sonea could see other novices reluctantly gathering their belongings and hurrying toward the University. Like them, Sonea and Poril had spent the midbreak outside enjoying the rare warmth of a sunny autumn day. She stood and stretched.

“After class, let’s go to the library and study.”

Poril nodded. “If you want.”

Walking quickly, they hurried out of the gardens and into the University. The rest of the novices were already seated in the classroom. As Sonea took her seat, Lord Skoran entered the room.

Putting down a small pile of books, the magician cleared his throat and faced the novices. Then a movement in the doorway drew his attention away. All of the class turned to watch as three figures stepped into the room. Seeing Regin among them, Sonea felt a chill of foreboding.

University Director Jerrik looked around the room. His eyes skipped over the other novices’ faces. As they met hers he frowned, then he glanced at the novice at his side.

“Regin has succeeded in completing the half-year tests.” Jerrik’s usually stern voice held a hint of reluctance. “I have moved him to your class.”