Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

Some of the questions were ones to which Sonea already knew the answers, some Sonea already knew Loranda didn’t know the answer to. Cery had recommended this, because it was important to avoid revealing how much the Guild didn’t know.

But Lorandra had said nothing.

So Sonea tried being more direct. Where was Skellin? How long had he lived in Imardin? Which Thieves were his allies? Which Houses were linked to him? Were any Guild magicians under his sway? Did he have allies in Elyne? Lonmar? Sachaka? How many Thieves had she killed? Had she tried to kill Cery? Had she tried to kill Cery’s family?

No shift of expression had betrayed Lorandra’s reaction to that last question. It was the one Sonea most wanted an answer to, aside from the whereabouts of Skellin.

If only Osen had chosen me to read Lorandra’s mind at the Hearing, not Kallen. I could have sought the answer there and nobody would have known I had done so but Lorandra. But that would have meant Forlie’s mind would have been read by Kallen, and Sonea would not have wished that on the poor, frightened woman.

Sonea remembered Lorandra’s dismay and surprise that she could not stop Kallen reading her mind. Hopefully that meant the magicians of Lorandra’s homeland did not know black magic – possibly did not even know of it. From what Kallen had described, Lorandra’s people forbade all magic, though those who imposed the ban were magicians themselves. Lorandra had broken the law and learned magic in secret. It was likely she did not know how powerful the law keepers were.

The Guild is so worried about offending the people of her land if they block her powers, but if what Kallen says is true, the Guild’s very existence would offend them. Lorandra is a criminal there as well as here. They would want not just her, but all of us, executed.

Igra was far away, with a reassuringly big desert between it and the Allied Lands. Chances were nobody there remembered Lorandra, since she had left many years ago, and if they did they probably thought she was dead. It was a pity she hadn’t approached the Guild from the start. They might have taken her in, or allowed her to live in Imardin with some sort of arrangement that allowed her restricted use of magic. Instead she’d adopted the life of an assassin and, with her son, made herself rich by selling roet.

Sonea thought of all the people who had suffered and died because of this woman. This time she didn’t push away the anger that rose or try to retain some compassion. This time she let it harden her resolve.

“I’m not here to question you,” Sonea told the woman quietly. “I’m here to inform you that the Guild will block your powers soon. You won’t be able to use magic. The good news is that you won’t be stuck in here any more. I can’t tell you what they’ll do with you after that, but they won’t be setting you free within the Allied Lands.”

Lorandra’s expression shifted slightly, from hatred to worry, and Sonea felt a surge of triumph far stronger than the change deserved. She turned away and stepped toward the door. A raspy croak sounded behind her and she paused, then forced herself on.

“Wait.”

Sonea stopped and turned. Lorandra’s dark eyes caught the light as she lifted her head.

“Will it hurt?” she asked in a whispery voice.

Sonea stared back at her. “Why should I answer your questions when you’ve answered none of mine?”

Lorandra’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Sonea turned away, then stopped and looked back.

“Not if you don’t fight it,” she told the woman quietly, so the guards couldn’t hear. Lorandra’s eyes swivelled to meet hers. “And … and it is reversible,” Sonea added in an even quieter voice.

She made herself turn away and step out of the door, wondering if what she had seen in the woman’s eyes was hope or suspicion.

“The first thing you need to remember is that pregnancy is not an illness or an injury,” Lady Indria told the class. “But there are many problems that can arise from pregnancy and childbirth. Unlike the majority of conditions that hamper or prevent pregnancy, which we have covered so far this year, the problems of pregnancy and childbirth can cause death, to either mother or child, or both.”

Lilia glanced at her friends. Both Froje and Madie were sitting with straight backs, listening to Lady Indria intently. They’re almost as captivated as they were during the lessons on preventing pregnancy , Lilia mused. She looked around the room. Most of the novices looked interested in the lesson. Even the boys were, which surprised her even though all Healers were expected to learn how to advise a mother and deliver a baby.

A few of the girls had been missing from class until now. All were snooties. The Houses had never objected to their daughters learning how to prevent conception until it had become an official part of the University’s Healing lessons. No parents of lowies had raised the slightest fuss. They couldn’t afford to raise grandchildren while their daughters finished their education in the Guild.

I should find this more interesting than I do , Lilia thought. I suppose I would, if I was in love with someone or likely to get married soon. That would give me reason to think about the future, and of having children. Right now that all seems so unlikely. Madie may be right when she says you can’t tell when you’ll find someone special, but even if that someone came along next week I doubt I’ll want to have children for many years yet.

She still needed to pay attention, though, because if she was to become a Healer she’d have to be able to help pregnant women. Forcing herself to listen, she started taking notes. When Lady Indria finally stopped lecturing and began answering questions, Lilia felt Madie’s breath on her cheek as the girl leaned toward her.

“You meeting Naki tonight?” Madie murmured.

Lilia smiled. “Yeah. She’s going to help me practise curved strikes.”

Madie drew in a breath to say something more, then made a small noise of frustration.

“What?” Lilia asked, looking up.

Her friend’s face was taut with indecision and worry.

“What?” Lilia repeated.

Madie sighed and glanced around the class. She leaned even closer.

“People are starting to notice you hanging out with her. You must know what they’re saying.”

Lilia’s stomach swooped lower, a sensation that left her nauseated.

“What are they saying?” she forced herself to ask.

“That you and her …” Madie straightened suddenly as Indria spoke her name. Lilia listened as her friend answered the Healer’s question. The teacher gave Lilia a stern look, then turned away and resumed her lecture.

Lilia leaned closer to Madie.

“What are they saying?”

“Sh. I’ll tell you later.”

For the rest of the class Lilia found it twice as hard to concentrate as before. What could people possibly find to gossip about concerning her friendship with Naki? Was it the lowie/snootie thing? Did it have anything to do with Naki’s father? Naki had said he disapproved of lowies. Maybe he was threatening to stop Naki seeing Lilia.

By the time the University gong rang out, Lilia’s notes were a fragmented mess and her thoughts not much better. She followed Madie and Froje out of the classroom.

“Well?” she prompted.

The two girls exchanged looks. Madie’s expression was almost pleading. Froje’s was expectant. Madie turned to smile thinly at Lilia.

“We’d better do this before we join the boys.” She glanced around the hallway, then led Lilia and Froje into an empty classroom, checking to make sure there was nobody there. She turned to Lilia.

“It’s said … people say …” She paused and shook her head. “Naki doesn’t like boys.”