Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

When he asked himself what else they might want with him, the answer made his heart beat faster with both fear and anger.

No matter what they intend to do with me, they are going to read my mind. When they do, they’ll dig up all I know about Healing.

This had led him to wonder what he would do if they demanded that knowledge in exchange for his life. It was highly unlikely they would do so, since there was no need for them to gain his cooperation, but while you could pick up the basics of Healing from a mind-read, there was no substitute for experience and practice.

If they do … would I give it to them? Is keeping this knowledge from them more important than my life?

Sometimes he didn’t think it was. He had never liked having to withhold knowledge that would help these people. He couldn’t blame them for resorting to unscrupulous tactics to gain it.

But it wasn’t his decision to make. The knowledge was the Guild’s to give. Would the Guild expect him to die to protect that right?

Do I really have to bow to the Guild’s authority? I told Dannyl everyone should act as if I’d left the Guild. Did I really mean that? Do I still consider myself a Guild magician?

He didn’t get the chance to consider that for long. The sound of a door opening and closing set his pulse racing again. He heard footsteps. Something about the rhythm of them made his heart sink and anger stir within him. He’d know that short, crisp gait anywhere.

Kalia.

“Where have you been? We’ve guarded him for hours,” a woman complained. One of the guards who had been watching over and draining him, Lorkin guessed.

“I couldn’t get away sooner. I was being watched,” Kalia replied.

“Of course you were. Someone else should be doing this,” the second guard pointed out.

“I am Sanctuary’s healer,” Kalia replied archly. “It is my responsibility to ensure our people get the best treatment.”

The two women said nothing to that. Footsteps came closer. He heard the creak of joints. His skin itched under the blindfold. Something cool and alive touched his forehead.

He jerked reflexively, shaking off the hand. Then a pressure gripped his head, holding it firmly against the floor. The rough surface dug painfully into the back of his head. The cool touch returned.

He felt a presence at the edge of his mind. He felt it effortlessly slip into his mind. Though it made his headache increase, he tried to fight the will that took hold of his memories. But it was useless. Nothing stopped the greedy mind in its searching and examining.

— You won’t get away with this , he thought at the invader. If you use magic to Heal people they will know you stole the knowledge from me.

— But you gave it to me willingly , Kalia replied. Right before you left for home. I’ll tell them I tried to talk you out of it, of course. Said you should wait so I could organise a guide for you or you would freeze to death. But, being the ignorant Kyralian that you are, you were too proud to accept the offer. It will be your own fault you died.

— They won’t believe it .

— Of course they won’t. But they’ll have to accept it, since there will be no other witnesses.

Lorkin felt despair threatening to overcome his self-control. He pushed it aside and, as Kalia delved into his memories again and called knowledge of magical Healing to the surface, he tried to distract her with other thoughts. She ignored them, too eager to learn what he knew. Only when her curiosity was satisfied did her attention stray. And when it did, she prompted his mind for memories and facts he would not want her to see.

The mind was a traitor, and did not need much prompting. Normally he would have been able to put those memories behind imagined doors in his mind, safely out of sight. Normally the magician who stepped inside his mind would politely ignore those doors. But not Kalia.

She chased after memories of his childhood in the Guild, amused as she saw how he had been mocked over his mother’s low origins and unmarried state; gleeful at learning how he’d had his heart broken by his first love, Beriya; derisive of expectations that he would do something as heroic as his father; and contemptuous of his attraction to Tyvara …

A sound broke Kalia’s concentration. Lorkin’s ears told him it was loud, but with his attention locked within his mind he did not feel it. Then his awareness snapped back to the physical world. His senses reeled.

“What?” Kalia snapped.

“You were followed. We’ve distracted them, but we don’t have long until they realise.”

Silence followed. Lorkin could hear Kalia’s breathing.

“Is it done?” one of the guards asked.

“Perhaps,” Kalia replied, in a speculative tone that sent a chill down his spine. “Get him up. I know the perfect place to hide him.”

Head still reeling, though now more from lack of food and water, Lorkin felt hands haul him to his feet, then push him forward into the close-sounding space of a passage.

The snow that had fallen the night before lay in drifts on either side of the road. It lingered in the shade of the trees, where the sunlight had not yet touched. Sonea leaned closer to the window to look up at the Lookout, wondering if the building was colder than those of the city. Something drew her gaze to the third row of windows.

Is that someone looking out? She frowned and looked closer, making out the face of a young woman in one of the windows. Lilia.

The girl was watching the carriage. It seemed as if their gazes met, though Sonea was too far away to tell if it was her imagination or not. Then the carriage turned and they were no longer in sight of each other.

Ten years is a long time , Sonea found herself thinking. But at least she’s alive and safe.

Her thoughts turned to Naki. The girl had been missing for a week. Her servants had not reported her absence until Naki had been gone longer than usual. Apparently she had occasionally disappeared for a few days without explan ation. All of the household staff had been questioned by magicians and their guesses at her location followed up, but investigations had proven them wrong. Relatives had been contacted but none had heard from the girl.

Naki had received no visitors recently, but plenty of letters. One servant had told how Naki had not looked happy after receiving the letters, and had burned them with magic immediately.

But when Kallen pointed out that Naki’s powers had been blocked, so she couldn’t have used magic, the servant looked thoughtful. She said she had seen Naki throw a letter into the fire recently, but thought it was out of anger. It didn’t occur to her that it was because Naki couldn’t use magic any more.

Kallen had asked if the letters had stopped since Naki had left the house. The servant had thought about it, then nodded. Clever Kallen , Sonea thought. I was thinking about asking when the letters started, not if they stopped coming.

The carriage slowed to a halt at the base of the tower. Sonea climbed out and felt the chill air surround her. The guards standing around the tower were well rugged up. She resisted the habit of creating a shield about herself and heating the air within. The crisp air was refreshing and she had always loved to see her own breath mist. It had seemed magical to her as a child, even though it usually meant she was shivering with cold.

A memory flashed into her mind of being huddled in an old coat, her feet aching as the cold penetrated her thin-soled boots. Then the door of the Lookout opened and the memory faded. A guard was bowing and beckoning hastily at the same time, eager to avoid letting cold air into the building.