Trudi Canavan - The Novice

The young guard smiled, then bowed. “Good night, Administrator.”

Watching Barran walk away, Lorlen sighed. He looked down at the ring on his hand. Are you the murderer? he projected at it.

There was no answer.

The passage turned again and Sonea paused to get her bearings. At first she tried to picture the plan in her memory, but after several tries she gave up and reached into her robe pockets.

It was a week since she had first entered the passages. She had visited them every night, each time leaving the map in her robes until she was forced to use it. She wanted to memorize it all in case Regin and his allies ambushed her and looked through her box or pockets once they had exhausted her.

Sonea’s searching fingers found nothing. The map wasn’t there. Her heart skipped and started racing. Had she lost it? Had she dropped it somewhere in the passages? She didn’t think there’d be much hope of retracing her steps. All those turns and intersections behind her...

Then she remembered that she had hidden the map inside the fraying cover of one of her medicine books, which was in her box—and she had left her box at a passage entrance, not wanting to lug it around while exploring.

She cursed herself for forgetting and started back the way she had come. After several hundred paces she stopped, shaking her head. She should have reached familiar ground by now, but the turns and intersections were all wrong.

She was lost.

She didn’t feel frightened, only annoyed at herself. The Guild grounds were big, but she doubted the tunnels would go far beyond the area covered by the buildings. If she kept going, she was bound to find herself under the University eventually. So long as she didn’t wander aimlessly, and paid attention to the general direction they took her, she would find her way out.

So she started walking. After several twists and turns, and the discovery of a small complex of rooms including one with a blocked fireplace and a tiled room that must have once been a bath, she came to a dead end where the roof had collapsed. It was not one of the dead ends she had encountered before. Doubling back, she chose another path.

Eventually she found herself in a straight passage with no side entrances. Her curiosity grew stronger as she continued down this passage. A straight tunnel like this must lead to something. Perhaps another Guild building. Or perhaps it led out of the Guild altogether.

After a few hundred paces she encountered an alcove. Stepping into it, she discovered the mechanism for a hidden door. She found the spy hole that all of the doors contained and put her eye to it.

A room lay beyond, but she could not see much of it. Not only was the room dark, but a piece of dirty glass had been placed over the hole, blurring the view.

But she could see enough to know that the room was empty. Reaching for the mechanism, she pulled a lever and the door swung open. She looked around the room and felt her blood turn to ice.

It was the room underneath the High Lord’s Residence.

For what seemed an age all she could do was stare around, her heart hammering in her chest. Then slowly her legs obeyed her need to get away. Her hands groped for the lever that would close the door and found it.

As it slid shut her muscles unfroze and went limp. She sagged against the wall, heedless of faren or other insects, and slid to her knees.

If he’d been there ...

It was too terrifying to think about. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to stop shaking. She looked up at the door and down at herself. She was kneeling next to a secret entrance to Akkarin’s room. Not a good place to be, particularly if he was in the habit of using these passages.

Strengthened again by fear, she stumbled to her feet and hurried away. Though the passage continued past the alcove, she no longer felt any need to know where it led. Breathing quickly, she broke into a run and fled in what she hoped was the direction of the University.

The road twisted about, following the curve of the land as it wound through the foothills of the Grey Mountains. As Dannyl, Tayend and their servants rode around a corner, a striking building came into sight. It rose straight up from the edge of a precipice. Tiny windows dotted the walls, and a narrow stone bridge led to an unadorned opening.

Dannyl and Tayend exchanged glances. By Tayend’s expression, Dannyl knew the scholar found the building as unwelcoming as he did. He turned to the servants.

“Hend, Krimen. Go ahead and see if Dem Ladeiri will grant us a visit.”

“Yes, my lord,” Hend replied. The two servants nudged their horses into a trot and disappeared beyond the next turn of the road.

“Not a friendly-looking place,” Tayend muttered.

“No,” Dannyl agreed. “More like a fort than a house.”

“It was a fort once,” Tayend said. “Centuries ago.”

Dannyl slowed his horse to a walk. “What can you tell me of Dem Ladeiri?”

“He’s old. About ninety. He has a few servants, but lives alone otherwise.”

“And he has a library.”

“Quite a famous one. His family has collected all sorts of oddities over the last few hundred years, including some books.”

“Perhaps we’ll find something useful here.”

Tayend shrugged. “I’m expecting to find much that is strange, and little that is useful. Librarian Irand said he knew the Dem when they were both young men, and called him an ‘amusing eccentric.’ ”

Dannyl watched for glimpses of the building through the trees as they continued along the road. They had been travelling for three weeks, staying no more than a night in any place. Introducing himself to country Dems and testing their children was becoming a chore, and none of the libraries they visited contained anything they had not already learned.

Of course, this may have been the case for Akkarin as well. His quest for knowledge of ancient magic had ended without him producing any great discoveries.

At last the bridge appeared before them. It spanned a dizzying drop to a ravine far below. Deep within an opening in the front wall of the building were two large wooden doors, hanging from hinges so rusted that Dannyl wondered why they hadn’t yet given way. A thin, white-haired man wearing clothes that looked a size too large stood between the doors.

“Greetings, Ambassador Dannyl.” The old man’s voice was thin and wavering. He bowed stiffly. “Welcome to my home.”

Dannyl and Tayend dismounted and handed the reins to their servants. “Thank you, Dem Ladeiri,” Dannyl replied. “This is Tayend of Tremmelin, scholar of the Great Library.”

The Dem turned and peered short-sightedly at Tayend. “Welcome, young man. I have a library too, you know.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. A library famous throughout Elyne,” Tayend replied with convincingly affected eagerness. “Full of curiosities. I would love to see it, if you do not mind.”

“Of course you can!” the Dem exclaimed. “Come inside.”

They followed the old man into a small courtyard, then through a rusty iron door into a hall. Though the furnishings were luxurious, a smell of dust hung in the air.

“Iri!” the old man called shrilly. Footsteps hurried to a doorway and a middle-aged woman wearing an apron appeared. “Bring my guests some refreshments. We’ll be in the library.”

The woman’s eyes widened as she saw Dannyl’s robes. She bowed hastily and backed out of sight.

“There’s no need to take us to the library straightaway,” Dannyl said. “We do not wish to inconvenience you.”

The Dem waved a hand. “It’s no inconvenience. I was in the library when your servants arrived.”