Trudi Canavan - The Magicians' Guild

“I’m going to stay,” she told him.

He stared at her, momentarily too surprised to speak.

“You’re staying?” he exclaimed. “You changed your mind?”

She nodded.

He leapt to his feet. “That’s wonderful!”

Sonea stared up at him with wide eyes. He wanted to pull her to her feet and give her a hug, but he knew he would only frighten her. Instead, he strode to the cabinet at the back of the room.

“We must celebrate!” he told her. Taking out a bottle of pachi wine and some glasses, he brought them back to the chairs. She watched, still and silent, as he pulled the stopper out of the bottle and poured some of the yellow liqueur into the glasses.

Sonea’s hand shook as she accepted a glass. Rothen sobered, realizing that she must be feeling overwhelmed—and a little scared, too.

“What changed your mind?” he asked as he sat down.

She bit her lip gently, then looked away. “I want to save someone’s life.”

“Ah!” He smiled. “So it was the Healers that impressed you most.”

“Yes,” she admitted. Taking a sip, her face lit with delight. “Pachi wine!”

“You’ve had it before?”

She smiled. “A Thief gave me a bottle once.”

“You’ve never told me much about the Thieves. I didn’t want to ask in case you thought I was trying to get information from you.”

“I never found out much about them,” she replied, shrugging. “I spent most of my time alone.”

“I assumed they wanted you to perform magic in exchange for their help?”

She nodded. “But I never really gave the Thief what he wanted.” A crease appeared between her brows. “I wonder ... will he think I’ve broken our agreement by staying here?”

“He didn’t succeed in helping you,” Rothen pointed out. “How can he expect you to fulfil your side of the exchange?”

“He spent a lot of effort and used a lot of favors to hide me.”

Rothen shook his head. “Don’t worry. The Thieves won’t bother you. They told us where to find you.”

Sonea’s eyes widened. “They betrayed me?” she whispered.

He frowned, disturbed by the anger in her eyes. “I’m afraid so. I don’t think they wanted to, but it was clear that your powers were growing dangerous.”

She looked down at her glass and brooded in silence for some time.

“What happens now?” she asked suddenly.

Rothen hesitated as he realized he would have to explain the guardianship claims to her. The thought of being placed in the care of a magician who she did not know or trust might be enough to change her mind again, but he had to warn her of the possibility.

“There are several matters that must be resolved before you are sworn in as a novice,” he told her. “You need to have good reading and writing skills, and be taught basic calculations. You’ll also need to understand the rules and customs of the Guild. Before then, your guardianship must be decided.”

“Guardianship?” She leaned back in her chair. “You said only very gifted novices have guardians.”

Rothen nodded. “From the beginning, I knew that you would need the support of a guardian. As the only novice not from the Houses, you may find things a little difficult at times. Having a magician prepared to be your guardian might help to counter that, so I placed a claim on you.

“But I am not the only magician who wants the honor. There is another, a younger magician named Fergun. When two magicians claim a novice’s guardianship, the Guild must hold a Hearing to decide which claim will be granted. The Guild rules say that, if more than one magician wishes to claim a novice’s guardianship, the one who first recognized the novice’s magical potential is granted the honor, so it is usually a simple decision.” He grimaced. “But not this time.

“We didn’t discover your magic by the usual tests. Some magicians believe that I, being the first to see you, recognized your powers first. Others say that Fergun, being the one your rock struck, was the first since he experienced the effects of your powers.” Rothen chuckled. “Apparently, the Guild has been arguing about it for months.”

He paused to take another sip of wine. “The Hearing will be held after the next Meet, which will occur in a week’s time. Afterward, you will continue your lessons with either me, or Fergun.”

Sonea frowned. “So the novice doesn’t get to choose their guardian?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then I better meet this Fergun,” she said slowly. “Find out what he’s like.”

Rothen regarded her closely, surprised at her calm acceptance of the situation. He should be pleased, he told himself, but he could not help feeling a little disappointed. It would have been more gratifying if she had protested at the idea of being removed from his guidance and company.

“I can arrange for you to meet him, if you wish,” he replied. “He will want to meet you. So may others. Before then, I should teach you some of the rules and customs of the Guild.”

She looked up, her eyes brightening with interest. Relieved to see her curiosity return, Rothen smiled.

“For a start, there is the custom of bowing.”

Her expression changed to dismay. Rothen chuckled sympathetically.

“Yes. Bowing. All non-magicians—apart from royalty, of course—are expected to bow to magicians.”

Sonea grimaced. “Why?”

“A gesture of respect.” Rothen shrugged. “Silly as it may seem, some of us get quite offended if we are not bowed to.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you?”

“Not usually,” he told her. “But there are times when neglecting to bow is obviously intended to be rude.”

She considered him warily. “Do you expect me to bow to you from now on?”

“Yes and no. I don’t expect it in private, but you should bow when we are outside these rooms, even if just to accustom yourself to the habit. You should also use the honorific. Magicians are referred to as Lord or Lady, except in the cases of the Directors, Administrators and the High Lord, for whom you must use their title.”

Rothen smiled at Sonea’s expression. “I didn’t think you’d like it. You may have grown up in the lowest class in society, but you have the pride of a king.” He leaned forward. “One day everyone will be bowing to you, Sonea. That will be even harder for you to accept.”

She frowned, then picked up her glass and drained it.

“Now,” Rothen continued, “there are the rules of the Guild to cover as well. Here.” He reached forward and poured her another glass of wine. “Let’s see if these are any easier to stomach.”

Rothen left just after dinner, no doubt to spread the news. As Tania began to clear the table, Sonea moved to a window. She paused to look at the screen covering it, and realized for the first time that the complex pattern printed on it was actually made up of tiny Guild symbols.

Her aunt had owned an old, mold-spotted pair of screens. They had been the wrong shape for the window of their room in the stayhouse, but her aunt had leaned them up against the glass anyway. When the sun shone through the paper, it had been easy to ignore their flaws.

Instead of the usual pang of homesickness at the memory, she felt a vague longing. Looking around at the luxurious furnishings, the books and the polished furniture, she sighed.

She would miss the comforts and the food, but she was resigned to that. Leaving Rothen would not be so easy, however. She liked his company—his conversations, their lessons, and talking mind to mind.

I was going to leave anyway, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. I just hadn’t thought about how much I’d gained here.

Knowing that she would be forced from the Guild had made her realize what she was losing. Pretending that she wanted to stay was going to be far too easy.