Trudi Canavan - The Magicians' Guild

Opening the cover, she found a folded piece of paper. Picking it up, she immediately noticed the thickness of the parchment. A sheet of paper this well made usually cost more than a meal for a large family or a new cloak. Unfolding it, she looked at the black characters curling in perfect lines across the page, then she drew in a breath as she saw the symbol stamped onto a corner. A diamond with a “Y” dividing it—the symbol of the Guild.

“What is it?” she breathed.

“A message,” Faren replied. “For you.”

“Me?” She looked up at him.

He nodded.

“How did they know how to get it to me?”

“They didn’t, but they gave it to someone they knew had connections with the Thieves, and he passed it on.”

She held it out to him.

“What does it say?”

He took the paper from her. “It reads: “To the young lady with magical powers. As we cannot speak to you in person, we are sending this message through the Thieves in the hope that they will be able to reach you. We wish to assure you that we do not intend to harm you in any way. Be assured, as well, that we did not intend to hurt you or the young man on the day of the Purge. His death was a tragic accident. We only wish to teach you how to control your power, and to offer you the opportunity to join the Guild. You are welcome among us.” It is signed: ‘Lord Rothen of the Magicians’ Guild.’ ”

Sonea stared at the message with disbelief. The Guild wanted her, a slum girl, to join them?

It must be a trick, she decided, an attempt to draw her out of hiding. Remembering the magician who had invaded the attic refuge, she recalled how he had called her an enemy of the Guild. He hadn’t known that she was listening. That, more likely, was the truth.

Folding the parchment, Faren slipped it into a pocket. Seeing his sly smile, Sonea felt a twinge of suspicion. How did she know whether what he had read out was truly what the message said?

But why would he make it up? He wanted her to work for him, not go running off to join the magicians. Unless he was testing her ...

The Thief lifted an eyebrow. “What do you think, young Sonea?”

“I don’t believe them.”

“Why not?”

“They’d never take a dwell.”

He rubbed the arm of his chair. “What if you were to discover that they did want you to join them? Many ordinary people dream of becoming a magician. Perhaps the Guild is anxious to redeem itself in the eyes of the public.”

Sonea shook her head. “It’s a trick. It was a mistake that they got the wrong dwell, not that they killed one.”

Faren nodded slowly. “That is what most witnesses say. Well, we shall decline the Guild’s invitation and get onto more important business.” He pointed at the book in her lap. “I don’t know if that will be useful. I will have to get someone to read it to you. It might be better if you learned to read yourself.”

“My aunt taught me a little,” Sonea told him, flicking through the pages. “But it was a long time ago.” She looked up. “Will I be able to see Jonna and Ranel soon? I’m sure Jonna could teach me to read.”

He shook his head. “Not until the magicians stop—” He frowned and tilted his head slightly. A faint ringing reached her ears.

“What’s that?”

Faren rose. “Wait here,” he said and disappeared into the darkness behind the panel.

Sonea put the book aside and moved to the fireplace. The panel slid open again and Faren stepped back into the room.

“Quickly,” he snapped, “follow me—and keep silent.”

He strode past her. Sonea stared at him for a heartbeat before following him across the room.

Drawing a small object from a pocket, Faren ran it back and forth over the panelling. Sonea drew closer and saw a knot in the wood slide forward until it protruded half a finger length into the room. Faren grasped this and pulled.

A section of the wall swivelled inward. Taking her arm, Faren pulled her into the shadows. After pushing the knot flush with the panel again, he closed the door.

They stood in darkness. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that five tiny holes were spaced across the door at shoulder height. Faren’s eye hovered close to one.

“There are faster ways out of the room,” he told her, “but since we had the time, I thought it better to choose the door that is near impossible to open. Look.”

He moved away from the peephole. She blinked as a flame suddenly lit the darkness. Faren lifted a tiny lamp and slid the shutter across until only a thin ray of light spilled into the passage. Holding it up, he pointed out several metal bolts and complicated-looking gears on the back of the door.

“So what’s going on?” she asked.

Faren’s yellow eyes glinted in the dim light as he slid the bolts into place. “Only a handful of magicians are still searching for you. My spies now know what they look like, their names, their movements.” Faren chuckled. “We’ve been sending false informers to them, keeping them busy.

“Today they’ve been acting strangely. More came into the slums than usually do, and they wore cloaks over their robes. They took positions all around the slums and seemed to be waiting for something. I don’t know what, but they kept moving to new positions. Each time they did, they came closer to this place. Then, just now, Ceryni told me that he thought the magicians were tracking you. He said they must be able to sense you using magic. I didn’t believe it until...”

Faren paused, then the sliver of light from the lamp suddenly vanished and darkness filled the passage. Sonea heard him move to the wall. She crept forward and put her eye to one of the little holes.

The entrance to the room stood open, a rectangle of darkness. At first Sonea thought the hideout was empty, then a figure suddenly strode into sight from one of the side rooms, his green robes swaying as he stopped.

“My people managed to stop them by caving in the passage,” Faren whispered, “but one got through. Don’t be alarmed. No one can get through this door. It’s ...” He sucked in a quiet breath. “Interesting.”

Sonea put her eye back to the hole and felt her heart skip. The magician appeared to be staring right at her.

“Can he hear us?” Faren murmured. “I tested the walls many times.”

“Perhaps he can see the door,” Sonea suggested.

“No, he’d have to look very closely. Even if he did start looking for doors, there are five exits leading from this room. Why would he choose this one?”

The magician walked toward them and stopped. He stared at the wood, then closed his eyes. Sonea felt an all-too-familiar sensation pass over her. When the magician opened his eyes again, his frown was gone and he was staring directly at Faren.

“How does he know?” Faren hissed. “Are you doing magic right now?”

“No,” Sonea replied, surprised at the confidence in her own voice. “I can hide myself from him. It’s you. He’s sensing you.”

“ Me ?” Faren turned his head from the hole and stared at her.

Sonea shrugged. “Don’t ask me why.”

“Can you hide me?” Faren’s voice was strained. “Can you hide us both?”

Sonea drew away from the hole. Could she? She couldn’t hide what the magician was sensing without detecting it herself. She looked at Faren, then she looked at Faren. It was as if she had extended her senses—no, another sense that wasn’t sight or hearing—and could feel a person there.

Faren uttered an oath.

“Stop whatever you’re doing!” he gasped. Something brushed against the wall. Faren backed away.

“He’s trying to open it,” he told her. “I was afraid he’d try to blast it down. That gives us some time.” He opened the lamp’s shutter and gestured for her to follow him.