Trudi Canavan - The Novice

Sonea nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

Satisfied, he stalked to his door and disappeared. Looking around, she saw that all of the novices but one had disappeared. She watched the remaining boy wipe the ink off her door. By the sullen look he gave her before he hurried away and disappeared into his room, she guessed he had been merely one of the audience, not the one who had written the message.

Though the corridor was empty, Sonea could imagine ears pressed against doors, listening to her conversation with Cery.

“Let’s go outside. Wait here. I’ll just get something.”

Slipping inside her room, she collected a small package, then returned to the corridor and led Cery out to the gardens. They found a sheltered bench. As she created a barrier of warmth around them both, Cery’s eyebrows rose and he gave her an approving look.

“You’ve picked up a few useful tricks.”

“Just a few,” she agreed.

His eyes darted around, constantly watching the shadows. “Remember when we were in this garden last,” he said. “Creeping through those trees. That’s nearly a year ago now.”

She grinned. “How could I forget?”

Her grin faded as she remembered what she had witnessed beneath the High Lord’s Residence. At the time she had been too eager to get away to tell Cery what she had seen. Later, she had told him she’d watched a magician performing magic, but she hadn’t known it was forbidden black magic. Now, of course, she had promised the Administrator that she would keep the truth hidden from all but Rothen.

“That boy is the leader isn’t he? The one who hid when he saw that magician—Lord Ahrind, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“What’s this boy’s name?”

“Regin.”

“He been bothering you much?”

She sighed. “All the time.” As she told him of the pranks and jibes, she felt both embarrassed and relieved. It felt good to be talking to her old friend, and satisfying to see the anger on Cery’s face.

He swore colorfully. “That boy needs a good lesson, if you ask me. Would you like me to teach him?”

Sonea chuckled. “You’d never get close to him.”

“Oh?” He smiled slyly. “Magicians aren’t supposed to hurt people, are they?”

“No.”

“So he can’t use his powers in a fight with a non-magician, can he?”

“He won’t fight you, Cery. He’d consider it beneath himself to fight a dwell.”

He made a rude noise. “Is he a coward, then?”

“No.”

“He’s got nothing against giving you some rub, though. You were a dwell.”

“He’s not fighting me. He’s just making sure everyone remembers where I’m from.”

Cery considered this for a while, then shrugged. “Then we’ll just have to kill him.”

Surprised at the absurdity of the suggestion, she laughed.

“How?”

His eyes flashed. “We could... lure him into a passage, then cave it in.”

“That’s all? He’d only have to shield himself, then push the rubble away.”

“Not without using up his magic. How about we cover him with a lot of rubble? A whole house.”

“It would take a lot more than that.”

He pursed his lips, thinking. “We could trip him into a vat of sewage and seal him in.”

“He’d blast his way out.”

“Then we’ll trick him into boarding a ship, then sink it far out in the sea.”

“He’d make a bubble of air around himself and float.”

“Ah, but he couldn’t hold it forever. He’ll get tired, then drown.”

“We can hold a basic shield for a long time,” she told him. “All he has to do is communicate with Lord Garrel by mind and the Guild would send out another boat to rescue him.”

“If we sank the ship a long way from any magicians, he might die of thirst.”

“He might,” she conceded, “but I doubt it. Magic makes us robust. We survive longer than ordinary people—and besides, we’ve learned how to extract salt from water. He wouldn’t go thirsty, and he could catch and cook fish to eat.”

Cery uttered a small gasp of impatience. “Stop it! You’re making me jealous. Can’t you wear him out for me first? Then I’ll give him a good softening.”

Sonea laughed. “No, Cery.”

“Why not? Is he stronger than you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What then?”

She looked away. “It’s not worth it. Whatever you do, he’d get me back.”

Cery sobered. “Seems he gets enough fun out of you already. It’s not like you to just put up with something like this. Fight him, Sonea. Sounds like you’ve got nothing to lose.” His eyes narrowed. “I could do it the Thieves’ way.”

She looked at him sharply. “No.”

He rubbed his hands together. “He hurts my kin, I hurt his.”

“No, Cery.”

His expression had grown distant, and he didn’t appear to be listening. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t kill them or harm the weaker ones, just scare some of the men in the family. Regin will work it out eventually, ’cause he’ll twig that one of his kin always gets visited by a messenger just after he does something to you.”

Sonea shuddered. “Don’t joke about it, Cery. It’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. He wouldn’t dare touch you.”

She grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “This isn’t the slums, Cery. If you think Regin will keep silent because he’d have to admit what he’s doing, you’re wrong. You’d be playing right into his hands. Harming his family is a far greater offense than giving another novice a hard time. I’d have used connections with the Thieves to harm another novice’s family. They might throw me out of the Guild for that.”

“Connections with the Thieves.” Cery’s nose twitched. “I see.”

“Oh, Cery.” Sonea grimaced. “I appreciate that you want to help. I really do.”

He scowled into the trees. “I can’t do anything to stop him, can I?”

“No.” She smiled. “But it is fun thinking about dunking Regin in the sea or dropping a house on him.”

His lips curled into a smile. “Sure is.”

“And I’m glad you dropped by. I haven’t seen you since before I started at the University.”

“Work’s kept me busy,” he said. “You heard about the murders?”

Sonea frowned. “No.”

“Been lots of them lately. Strange ones. The Guard are out for the killer, causing everybody a lot of rub, so the Thieves want him got.” He shrugged.

“Have you seen Jonna and Ranel?”

“They’re well. Your little cousin is strong and healthy. You going to drop in soon? They say it’s been a while.”

“I’ll try. I’m so busy. There’s so much studying to do.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the packet. “I want you to give this to them.” She pressed it into his hand.

He tested its weight, then looked at her in surprise.

“Coins?”

“Part of my allowance. Tell them it’s a little of their taxes going to a better cause—and if Jonna still won’t take it, give it to Ranel. He’s not so stubborn.”

“But why give it to me to deliver?”

“Because I don’t want anyone here to know. Not even Rothen. He’d approve but...” She shrugged. “I like to keep some things to myself.”

“And me?”

She smiled and shook a finger at him. “I know exactly how much is in there.”

He pushed out his bottom lip. “As if I’d steal from a friend.”

She laughed. “No, you wouldn’t. Just everybody else.”

“Sonea!” a voice called.

They looked up. Lord Ahrind stood outside the Novices’ Quarters, his head turning to and fro as he searched for her. Sonea stood up and the magician located her. He gestured imperiously for her to come inside.

“I’d better go,” she said.