Trudi Canavan - The Novice

“I can’t see him evading the Thieves for long,” Sonea mused.

“But it’s been going on for months,” Ranel said. “And some dwells say they remember similar killings happening a year ago, and before that.”

“Does anyone know what he looks like?”

“Stories are all different. But most say he wears a ring with a big red gem.” Ranel leaned forward. “The strangest story I heard was from one of our customers. He said that his sister’s husband owns an inn down Southside. This man heard someone yelling in one of the rooms one night, so he checked on them. When he opened the door, the murderer jumped out the window. But instead of falling to the ground, three stories down, he fell upward like he was flying!”

Sonea shrugged. Many people of dubious employment used the paths across the rooftops of the slums, known as the High Road. It was possible the man had swung out on a handhold and climbed up to the roof.

“That wasn’t what was strange,” Ranel continued. “What spooked the innkeeper was that the man staying in the room was dead, but all he had on his body were shallow cuts.”

Sonea frowned. Dead, but without any wounds except a few shallow cuts? Then her blood turned to ice. A memory flashed into her mind of Akkarin in the underground room.

Takan dropped to one knee and offered his arm. In Akkarin’s hand was a glittering dagger. He ran the blade over the servant’s skin, then placed a hand over the wound ...

“Sonea. Are you listening?”

She blinked, then looked at her uncle. “Yes. Just remembering something. From a long time ago. All this talk of murderers.” She shivered. “I must go.”

As she stood, Jonna enveloped her in a hug. “It is good knowing you can protect yourself, Sonea. I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Hmph. You could at least worry about me a bit.”

Jonna laughed. “All right. If it makes you feel better.”

Sonea said goodbye to Ranel, then stepped out into the street. As she continued through the slums, she could not help remembering Lorlen’s words during the truth-read.

“I fear that, though I do not like to think it, you may be an attractive victim for him. He knows you have strong powers. You would be a potent source of magic .”

But Akkarin could not kill her. If she disappeared, Rothen and Lorlen would tell the Guild of his crime. Akkarin would not risk that.

Yet, as she walked through the city gates into the North Quarter, Sonea could not help worrying. Had he made the slums his hunting ground? Were her aunt and uncle in danger?

He will not kill them, either, she told herself. Then I would tell the Guild the truth .

But then it suddenly occurred to her that visiting her aunt and uncle was the worst kind of foolishness. She had all but disappeared; only Tania knew where she had gone. If Lorlen and Rothen had heard she was missing, they might decide it was Akkarin’s doing. Or Akkarin might have concluded that she had left the Guild, and be preparing to silence the others right now.

Shivering, she realized she would not feel safe until she was back in the Guild, even though it meant living under the same roof as the man who might be the very murderer the slum dwellers feared.

The sound of birdsong and wind greeted Dannyl as he woke. He opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings, momentarily confused. Stone walls stood on all sides, but there was no roof above. He lay on a thick bed of pulled grass. The air had the feel of morning.

Armje. He was in the ruins of Armje.

Then he remembered the chamber, and the domed ceiling that had attacked him.

So I survived .

He looked down at himself. His robes were charred around the hem. The skin around his calves above where his boots had been was red and stinging. Looking up, he saw his boots standing neatly together a few steps away. They were blistered and charred.

He had come very close to dying, he realized.

Tayend must have taken him out of the cavern to this place. Dannyl looked around, but saw no sign of the scholar. Catching a splash of color on the ground nearby, he recognized Tayend’s blue jacket lying folded beside another bed of grass.

He considered getting up and looking for his friend, but remained on his grass bed. Tayend would not be far away, and he felt an overwhelming reluctance to move. He needed rest—not because his body needed it, but because he needed to recover magically.

Focusing on the source of his power, he found he had almost no magic to draw upon. Normally, he would have slept until at least partially recovered. Perhaps the lingering memory of danger had woken him as soon as he had regained enough strength to pull out of his exhausted slumber. Knowing that he lacked magic should have made him feel vulnerable and uneasy, but instead he felt freer, as if released from something.

Hearing footsteps, he drew himself up onto one elbow. Tayend stepped into the room and smiled when he saw that Dannyl was awake. The scholar’s hair was a little ruffled, but otherwise he still managed to appear well groomed despite having slept on a bed of grass.

“You’re awake at last. I just refilled our flasks. Thirsty?”

Realizing he was, Dannyl nodded. He accepted his flask and drained it.

Tayend crouched beside him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. A bit cooked around the ankles, but nothing worse.”

“What happened?”

Dannyl shook his head. “I was about to ask you that same question.”

“Your part comes first.”

“Very well.” Dannyl described the chamber, and how it had attacked him. Tayend’s eyes widened as he listened.

“After you went in, I kept reading the glyphs,” the scholar said. “The writing said that the door led to a place called the Cavern of Ultimate Punishment, and a little farther I worked out that it was made to execute magicians. I tried to call to you—to warn you—then I heard you call me and you made the lights. Before I could reach the end of the passage, they went out.”

Tayend shivered. “I kept going. When I got to the cavern, you were pressed up against something invisible. Then you fell forward and you didn’t move. I could see more of those lightning things on the walls. I ran forward and grabbed your arms, and pulled you off the platform. The lightning touched it, then everything went dark. I couldn’t see, but I kept pulling you along, into the passage and back outside. Then I carried you here.” He paused, and his mouth curled into a half-smile. “You’re really heavy, by the way.”

“Am I?”

“It’s your height, I’m sure.”

Dannyl smiled, and suddenly felt overwhelmed with affection and gratitude. “You saved my life, Tayend. Thank you.”

The scholar blinked, then smiled self-consciously. “I suppose I did. Looks like I’ve returned the favor. So, do you think the Guild knows about this Cavern of Ultimate Punishment?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Dannyl shook his head. He didn’t want to discuss the Guild, or the cavern. I’m alive, he thought. He looked around, at the trees, the sky, then Tayend. He really is a beautiful man, he thought suddenly, remembering how he had been struck by the scholar’s fine looks that first day, at Capia’s docks. He felt something at the edge of his thoughts, like a memory just out of reach. It grew stronger as he concentrated on it, and he felt a familiar uneasy feeling steal over him. He tried to push it away.

Suddenly he was acutely aware of his lack of magical strength. He frowned, wondering why he had reached for his powers unconsciously. Then realization came. He had been about to use his Healing powers to take away the uneasiness, or at least the physical reaction that had caused it. As I always do, without realizing it .