Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

“Is this a Duna tradition?” Tayend asked.

Vakachi shrugged. “It is and it isn’t. The tribe of Naguh Valley have their own traditions, different to the rest of the Duna. Though they are a settled tribe, and more civilised than their cousins, they are regarded as inferiors and pay tribute to those of the escarpment.”

“Is it possible that any of them are Keepers of the Lore?” Dannyl asked.

Vakachi spread his hands. “I couldn’t say for sure. Since the Keepers remain hidden by living ordinary lives and saying nothing of their status, there could be some here but nobody knows it.” He smiled. “No, your best chance to meet one is to climb up to the escarpment and seek one among the full blood tribes. Not that your chances are good even then. The Duna have a unique and effective habit of being uncooperative.”

“So I have heard, and read,” Dannyl said.

Vakachi nodded. “Still, it’s possible a foreigner will have greater luck than a Sachakan. I have arranged transportation to the escarpment for you all, setting out tomorrow. It will take a few days. In the meantime,” he gestured to the slaves filing into the room, “eat, rest and be welcome.”

As Sonea entered the treatment room, Dorrien looked closely at her and frowned.

“You look pale,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she told him as she sat down.

“How long has it been since you saw sunlight?”

Sonea considered. She’d been working the night shift for some weeks now, only taking time off to meet with Cery. The morning after the failed attempt to catch Skellin had been the last time she’d seen sunlight, though surely—

“If it’s been so long you have to think about it this much, it’s been too long,” Dorrien told her sternly.

Sonea shrugged. “The short winter days mean it’s dark when I leave the Guild.”

“If you wait until the days get longer, you might not see the sun for weeks.” He crossed his arms. “You’re like some sort of creepy nocturnal creature, and the impression isn’t helped by the black robes and black magic.”

She smiled. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

He chuckled. “Not one bit. But I’d hesitate to invite you over to dinner. You might scare the girls.”

“Hmm … it’s probably my turn to host a dinner.”

“You don’t have to take a turn,” he told her. “You’ve got too many other things on your mind. Have you heard from Cery lately?”

She shook her head. “Just a few cryptic messages. He believes Lorandra will have joined Skellin by now.”

“How is Kallen’s search for Lilia and Naki going?”

“He and his assistants have printed out flyers with drawings and descriptions of the girls, and hired people to hand them out around the city. A few have reported seeing one or both of the girls, but none of the sightings has led him to either of them.”

“People have seen Naki? At least that means she’s alive.”

“If the girl they saw was Naki. Still, the Guard hasn’t found any bodies of young women that look like her.”

Dorrien looked thoughtful. “We should put some of those flyers up in the hospices.”

Sonea nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“I’ll send a messenger to Kallen before I leave. Pity we didn’t get a picture drawn of Lorandra before she escaped.”

“Her appearance is much more distinctive than the girls’, and so is Skellin’s, but the descriptions we put out of those two haven’t attracted any reports of sightings.”

“No, I suppose—”

A knock at the door interrupted him. Sonea turned in time to see it swing open. Healer Gejen nodded to her politely.

“Black Magician Sonea,” he said politely, before turning to Dorrien. “Your wife is here to see you, Lord Dorrien.”

“Tell her I’ll be out as soon as I’ve finished briefing Sonea,” Dorrien replied.

As the door closed, Dorrien sighed. “I was wondering how long it would take before she gathered the courage to check on me here.”

“Check on you?”

“Yes. To make sure we’re not up to anything she wouldn’t approve of.”

Sonea shook her head. “I don’t understand. What does she think we do here? Is she afraid I’ll corrupt you?”

“In a way.”

“She thinks I might teach you black magic?” Sonea threw up her hands in exasperation. “How can I convince her to trust me?”

“It’s not that she distrusts you. She’s in awe of you. And she’s jealous.”

She looked at Dorrien. He wore an expression she had seen before. Before she could put a name to it, he spoke again.

“It’s me she doesn’t trust.”

“You? Why ever not?” “Because …” He paused, then looked at her as if meeting her gaze was difficult.

“Because she knows that if there was ever a chance you and I could be together, I’d take it.”

She stared at him, surprised and shocked. Suddenly she understood the look on his face. Guilt. And a cautious longing . An answering guilt rose up within her and she had to look away. All these years, and he has never stopped wanting me. I thought he had, when he met and married Alina. I was relieved to be free of the burden of not returning his feelings.

She had been caught up in grief then, still in love with a man she had lost. There had been no room in her heart to consider another.

Was there now?

No , she thought, but a traitorous feeling rose to contradict that thought. Panic rose but she pushed it aside. I can’t desire Dorrien , she told herself . He is married. It will only make things awkward and painful for all of us. She needed to say something that would end the possibility before it had a chance to take root in her mind. Something tactful, but clear. Something … But she couldn’t think of the right words.

Dorrien stood up. “There. I’ve said it. I …” He broke off as she looked up and met his eyes, then smiled crookedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he finished. He moved to the door, opened it and left the room.

It doesn’t matter what I say , she realised. This is already awkward and painful, and has been for months. I’m just a latecomer to the situation .

Cery’s home was a hole in the ground. However, it was a surprisingly luxurious hole, with all the comforts of an Inner City mansion. It was so luxurious that it was easy for Lilia to forget that she was underground. The only reminder was the small size of the place – it contained only a few rooms – and lack of servants.

Hiring servants would have meant people coming and going, and that would defeat the purpose of having a secret location. Cery’s bodyguard, Gol, had assured her that there were food supplies like dried beans and grains, salted meat and preserved fruit and vegetables stored here in case it became too dangerous to leave. She had never seen anyone cook them. Instead, Gol brought fresh food to the hideout every few days.

Now that Lilia and Anyi were staying there, he had to bring more food more often, which must have made it harder to keep the hideout location secret, or perhaps just have increased the risk that someone would recognise and follow him. Cery had been very insistent that they stay, however. Anyi had argued with him, and lost.

It had amazed Lilia to see how uncowed Anyi was around her employer, considering that he was a Thief. The young woman expressed a mix of loyalty, protectiveness and defiance, and he tolerated the latter with surprising patience. Instead of exerting his will with orders and discipline, he deftly skirted around her demands or objections.

To get Anyi to agree to stay, he didn’t bother trying. He simply turned to Lilia and suggested a deal: he would help her find Naki and keep her hidden from both the Guild and Skellin in exchange for her protecting him and Anyi. She had agreed.