Canavan Trudi - The Traitor Queen

“Wait, Lilia,” he said as they emerged.

He said nothing as the other novices strode away, but then sighed. Looking up at him, Lilia saw that he was scowling, but his expression smoothed as he noticed her looking at him. She looked down and waited for his assessment.

“You’re improving,” he said. “It may not feel like it, but you are learning how to respond to different challenges.”

“I am?” She blinked at him in surprise. “You looked so… disappointed.”

His mouth thinned into a grim line and he looked over at the University. “I am merely annoyed at my own deficiencies.”

Looking closer, she saw a tension in his face. Something about his eyes brought a sudden jolt of pain as a memory of Naki rose. Naki with that same distressed look about her, which usually led straight to the lighting of her roet brazier.

A shiver of realisation ran down Lilia’s spine. She had smelled roet smoke on Kallen, wafting from his robes, once or twice before. Never before a Warrior lesson, thankfully. She did not like the idea of fighting against or relying on the shield of someone taking a drug that reduced their ability to care about their actions.

If he hadn’t smoked any roet before this lesson, was he now craving it as a result? Was that why he’d ended the class early?

Taking a step away, he opened his mouth to speak. “Well that’s all-”

“I have a message from Cery,” she said.

He stopped, his gaze sharpening. “Yes?”

“He was attacked. Someone betrayed him. He has had to go into hiding and let people think he’s dead. You won’t be able to meet him for a while. It’s too risky.”

Kallen’s brows lowered. “Was he injured?”

She shook her head and felt a small pang of gratitude at his concern. Not what I would have expected. Maybe he isn’t as cold and rigid as I thought. “One of his bodyguards was, but he’s fine now. He asks that you not tell anybody that he is alive, and that you send messages through me and Anyi.”

“You see Anyi often?”

She nodded.

His eyes narrowed. “You aren’t leaving the Guild grounds to see her, are you?”

“No.”

He regarded her thoughtfully, as if pondering whether she was lying or not.

“Cery would like to know if you have made any progress in finding Skellin,” she told him.

“None. We’re following a few leads, but nothing promising has come from them so far.”

“Anything I can ask Cery about?”

The look he gave her did not conceal his scepticism. “No. If I find out anything that he needs to know, I will pass it on.” He looked toward the University again. “You may go now.”

Lilia suppressed a sigh at his dismissal, bowed, and walked away. After several paces she looked back, and caught a glimpse of Kallen before he disappeared behind the University building. From the angle of his path, she guessed he was heading for the Magicians’ Quarters.

Off to have a dose of roet? she wondered. Did he avoid telling me anything about his hunt for Skellin because he doesn’t think Cery or I need to know, or was it going to take too long, keeping him from the drug?

And why don’t I have this craving for it? She hadn’t smoked roet for months. The smell of it sometimes made her want it, but not in a way that overcame her determination never to use it again. Donia, the bolhouse owner who had helped Lilia hide from Lorandra and the Guild, had said it affected people differently.

I’m just lucky, I guess. She felt a pang of unexpected sympathy for Kallen. And he obviously isn’t.

“Tell us what you know and you can go free.”

Lorkin could not hold back a chuckle. The interrogator straightened a little at his reaction, his eyes brightening.

“Why do you laugh?”

“I could tell you anything. How would you know it was the truth?”

The man smiled, but there was no humour in his eyes. He knows I am right. Meeting the man’s eyes, Lorkin felt a chill run down his spine. There was a sharpness to them. A patience that suggested he would enjoy the hours of interrogation to come. That he was just beginning. This was only the second day of many to come.

They hadn’t tried to read his mind yet. Something was holding them back. A reluctance to damage relations with the Allied Lands? But then why lock him up in the first place?

They can’t have dismissed the idea entirely. Eventually they would try it. Once they attempted and failed to read his mind, they would realise they had sacrificed good relations with the Allied Lands for no benefit. With restraint for the sake of diplomacy abandoned, nothing would stop them torturing him — but they would face the same problem: not knowing if what he said was true.

Perhaps they would verify his words in other ways. Perhaps they hoped imprisonment, discomfort and fear would drive him to give them permission to read his mind.

He almost wished they’d get it over and done with. He was tempted to offer a willing mind-read, to speed things up. Instead he thought of a range of ridiculous lies he could tell the interrogator. It would be fun, at least temporarily, to lead the man on for a while. But not yet, he told himself. It’s only the second day. You can hold out for much longer than this.

The interrogator’s companion appeared in the doorway carrying a bowl. Glancing at him, the Ashaki questioner smiled, then looked back at Lorkin.

“Tell us something about the Traitors — just one small thing — and we’ll give you something to eat.”

A delicious smell reached Lorkin’s nose. His stomach clenched then growled with hunger. He’d been given water that morning, which he’d sipped cautiously, but still no food since being brought down here. He had resisted using Healing magic to dull the growing hunger, not wanting to use the magic that Tyvara had given him. It couldn’t be replaced, and he might need it.

The smell of the food was strong and set his head spinning. He thought of the lies he’d considered telling them, and felt a strong impulse to speak rising within him. Osen had said he should avoid revealing that his mind could not be read for as long as possible. Leading the interrogator along a false path might delay that.

Don’t be ridiculous, he thought. It might distract him for a short while, but the more I test that man’s patience the sooner he’ll give up on persuading me to speak. Tyvara would expect me to have more willpower than this.

She also intended him to use the magic she’d given him to protect himself. It would never get him out of the prison, or stop an Ashaki torturing or killing him, but it could help him resist these less direct attacks on his determination to keep silent.

Closing his eyes, he drew a little magic and sent it out into his body to dull the gnawing in his stomach and stop his head from spinning.

When he opened his eyes, the interrogator was watching him closely. The man stared at Lorkin thoughtfully, then beckoned to his assistant. The pair of them, with a great display of relish, began to eat.

The servant who had answered Sonea’s knock had told her Lord Regin was at a meeting with Black Magician Kallen. She had asked him to inform her when Regin returned, then retreated to her rooms for a much-needed cup of raka.

The wait was excruciating.

This is ridiculous. I chose him to be my assistant. I’ve worked with him before. But since he had agreed to travel with her to Sachaka she had begun to worry that she had chosen too quickly. He had all the right qualifications for the role: he was intelligent, a strong magician, a well-trained Warrior, adept at political manoeuvring, and fiercely loyal to the Guild and Kyralia.

But will we get along?