The Magician's Apprentice (24 page)

Healer Orran chuckled. “Now the pieces fall into place. Good old Healer Berin. Stirred up the guild then vanished to the country.”

“We owe your grandfather a small debt for questioning our over-reliance on the star code and steering us back towards rational observation,” the other healer said. “Berin’s granddaughter, eh?” His gaze slid over Tessia’s shoulder and his eyes brightened. “Ah! Here is our corpse!”

Tessia turned to see a stretcher being carried in, a pale figure lying upon it. She felt a thrill of excitement. Most of the corpses she had seen had been of old people. This was a young male, the pale skin of his chest marred with a wound.

“Have you seen a dissection before, Apprentice Tessia?” Healer Orran asked.

“No, but I have seen a few corpses, and more of the inside of a body than most people do,” she replied. “This should be very interesting,” she added quietly.

She heard Kendaria chuckle.

“Well then,” Healer Orran said. “You had better find yourselves some seats. Most are taken, and you won’t want to sit up at the back or you might become giddy. You there!” He waved an arm at two young men sitting in the front row. “Find your manners and make space for the ladies.”

There was laughter all around as the two young men grumbled and left their seats, resignedly moving up to the back of the staircase. Kendaria smiled and winked at Tessia as they sat down.

“I think he likes you. Any time you want to see a dissection, let me know.”

Cloth sheets were brought into the room and handed to those sitting in the front row. Kendaria showed Tessia how to drape hers across her shoulders and over her knees.

“Sometimes there’s a bit of splatter,” she whispered.

The corpse was half lifted, half rolled from the stretcher onto the table. Healer Orran moved to the collection of tools, then looked up at the crowd.

“Today we will be examining the heart and lungs…”

As he explained the purpose of the dissection and told the audience what to look for, Tessia sighed happily.
Father would have loved this. What will he say when he hears I was here? And he won’t believe that grandfather is now remembered with gratitude!
Then she sobered.
Will there be anything I can tell him that will be useful to him? I wonder…I had better pay close attention.

From his pallet in the stable loft, Hanara could see the signal light. For three nights now it had appeared, slowly flickering dimmer and brighter in a pattern all slaves were taught to read. Each time it shone from a different location, so that if anyone in the village did notice and looked for the light in the same place the following night, they would not see it. Each time it pulsed the same message.

Report. Report.

Every waking moment since first seeing it – and there had been far too many waking moments and not enough sleeping ones – Hanara had been sick with fear. There was only one person in the village that message could be for: himself. And only one person who would expect Hanara to report to him: Takado.

So far Hanara hadn’t obeyed. For three nights he had curled up on the pallet, unable to sleep until exhaustion claimed him, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen the signal or didn’t know what to make of it.

But I
have
seen it and I
do
know. When Takado reads my mind he’ll know I disobeyed him.

He was not Takado’s to order about any more, he reminded himself. He was a free man. He served Lord Dakon now.

But Lord Dakon isn’t here. He can’t stop Takado coming to get me.
It was possible Takado would conclude that the lack of response to his signal meant that Hanara had, indeed, been freed. Or had left the village. He might give up and leave.

Hanara almost laughed aloud.

What will he do, really?
he asked himself.

Takado did not like to waste magic, so he would try to avoid conflict. He’d enter the village with the intention of asking Lord Dakon to give Hanara back to him.

Lord Dakon would say that the choice was Hanara’s to make. It was too easy to imagine that moment. Takado would then look at Hanara. So would Lord Dakon. So would everyone in the village. They would all know terrible consequences would come of Hanara’s refusing. If Takado attacked the village and anyone died as a result, they would all blame Hanara.

But Lord Dakon was not in the village. He would not emerge to meet Takado. When Takado realised there was no magician to protect Mandryn, what would he do?

He will kill me for disobeying him.

Would he then leave? Or would he, having already killed one of Lord Dakon’s people, attack the villagers as well? It was possible that, despite their dislike of Hanara, the villagers might try to protect him on Lord Dakon’s behalf. If they did, they would die.

The only other choice I have is to go to Takado.

Then Takado would read his mind and learn that Lord Dakon was absent. Would he still attack the village? Not if he wanted to avoid conflict.

Beside, he’ll also learn from my mind that there is another magician nearby ready to defend Mandryn if needed.

Hanara managed a smile, but it quickly faded. The trouble was, Takado wouldn’t learn this if he didn’t read Hanara’s mind. The one piece of information that would deter Takado from coming to get Hanara was the one piece of information that he could only learn from Hanara.

That’s not entirely true. He could learn it from other villagers, if he had reason to talk to them or read their minds.

But Takado would never deign to talk to commoners, and reading the minds of anyone here would be seen as an act of aggression. He’d only do it if he had decided to attack the village, at which point he would act swiftly and wouldn’t waste time with mind-reading.

Hanara sighed and resisted the urge to sit up and look through the loft window to check if the signal was still blinking in the distance.

Hasn’t anyone else noticed?
He hadn’t heard the men in the stables or people in the village say anything about it. If they had seen it, surely someone would have investigated. They would not find Takado unless he wanted them to. If they found nothing, would they still send a warning to this other magician who was supposed to protect Mandryn?
Where is this other magician, anyway?
The signal was coming from the ridges and hills surrounding the village. From what Hanara had learned during Takado’s travels, villages in the outer leys were usually a day’s wagon ride from each other. The only other habitations were small farmers’ cottages and shacks.

He doubted this other magician lived in a cottage. So where did he live? And if Mandryn was attacked, how long would it take him to arrive?

There had to be some way he could find out. Moving to the edge of the loft, he looked down at the stables. A lamp had been set on a table where the servants had been playing a game using small pottery tokens and a board. The men were gone, their game unfinished.

He could hear faint voices somewhere behind the stables. “Hanar!”

He jumped and looked at the stable doors, where the stable master was standing.

“Come down,” Ravern ordered.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Hanara stood up, dusted straw off his clothing, and climbed down the ladder to the stable floor. He followed the stable master out. Ravern led him behind the building, to where three familiar figures were standing, the two stable boys and Keron, the servant master. Their attention was fixed on something beyond the stables.

His stomach sank as he realised they were looking at the signal. Keron turned towards him. It was too dark for Hanara to make out the man’s expression. An arm rose and a finger pointed towards the signal.

“What do you think, Hanar? Know what it is?”

The servant master’s tone was friendly, but there was a hint of worry in it.

Hanara turned to regard the signal.

Report. Report.

If he told them what it was, they would send for the other magician. But if they had seen the signal on other nights, they might wonder why he hadn’t told them earlier. They might grow angry, and throw him out of the village.

They were already worried. They might send for the magician anyway, if prompted.

“I don’t know,” he told them. “Is it not normal?”

Silence followed, then Keron sighed. “No. Not normal.” To the others he said: “Someone should take a look.”

A longer silence. Hanara could make out enough to see the two youths exchanging looks. The stable master sighed again. “In the morning, then.”

Fools
, Hanara thought.
Cowards, too. They’re too scared to do anything. They’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist and hope it goes away.

Just as he had.

They weren’t going to seek the other magician unless they were sure they needed to. Trouble was, once they knew Takado was here and a threat there’d be little time to seek the other magician’s help. Was there a way he could convince them to call for help sooner? Perhaps there was.

“Is there danger?” he asked the stable master in a low voice. “I don’t know,” the man admitted. “You said another magician would come and protect us. Would he know if this is something bad?”

The man stared back at him, then nodded once. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Go get some sleep.”

As he walked away he caught snatches of conversation. A protest came from one of the younger workers. Climbing back up to the loft, Hanara listened carefully. Sure enough, when the men returned a horse was brought out and readied.

“It’s dark so take it slowly, but the moon will be up soon and then you can step up the pace,” the stable master advised. “Deliver the message and come straight back. Lord Narvelan will give you a fresh mount. I expect you back tomorrow night.”

Hanara’s heart froze.
Tomorrow night? The other magician must live a full day’s ride away!

Takado was much closer than that. Much, much closer.

As the sound of galloping hoofs faded into the distance, Hanara rolled onto his back, his heart racing.
This changes everything!
Did Takado know that the only other magician nearby lived a full day’s ride away?
He probably does
, Hanara thought;
he paid attention to those sorts of details while he was travelling here. He probably took note of where all the Kyralian magicians live.

So the only thing that was keeping him from entering Mandryn and killing or reclaiming Hanara was the belief that Lord Dakon was here.

He was going to work out that this wasn’t true eventually. Hanara could hope he didn’t before the other magician arrived, or Lord Dakon returned. Or he could leave and go to Takado. Takado might not kill Hanara, if he came willingly.

Yet Hanara could not make himself move. He could not yet abandon the hope that by waiting a little bit longer he might not have to confront Takado. After all, there was still a chance that Takado would kill him anyway, for disobeying his signal for so long. He lay still, waiting, as time crept by with excruciating slowness.

Then a sound below caught his attention. He rolled over and looked down. Ravern was standing with arms crossed, the other young stable servant emerging from an empty stall. They were both staring at a sweat-stained horse pacing the length of the building. The same horse that had left with the messenger had returned, riderless.

Terror rushed through Hanara, leaving him gasping.
He’s here. Takado is here. And now he knows everything!
He barely heard the stable master ordering two more horses to be saddled, cursing and mumbling that the messenger had probably just fallen off the horse. He couldn’t bring himself to watch the men prepare themselves with futile weapons, and leave.

But once they were gone, he climbed, shaking, down the ladder and slipped out into the night. He told himself he was leaving to save the village, but he knew with a familiar certainty that he was leaving to save himself.

It had surprised and impressed Tessia to learn that Everran and Avaria owned two wagons, one for their own everyday use and one kept for visits to the Royal Palace. Since the journey to the palace consisted of half the length of two streets, it seemed frivolous to own a vehicle especially for it.

But she had to admit the palace wagon was spectacular, and using it for ordinary journeys, bumping up against people and other vehicles, would mean constant repairs. Made of highly polished wood and gold fittings, with a cover of fine leather impressed and painted with the family’s incal – a revived heraldic fashion from before the Sachakan invasion – it declared to all around it that the occupants were rich and important. The four guards in uniform carrying whips also made it clear that such a wagon should not be delayed.

Inside the wagon a tiny globe light kept the chill of the night air at bay as well as providing illumination. Everran and Avaria sat opposite Dakon, Jayan and Tessia. All wore fine clothes in the latest fashion. Everran was in a long over-robe, the same style of clothing that Jayan and Dakon had worn when Tessia and her family had come to dinner at the Residence, made of the red cloth Avaria had bought in Vanity Street. Avaria wore a purple dress cinched in closely at the waist, with a narrow opening below the buttoned collar that would have been scandalously low if the glimpses it offered beneath had been of bare flesh, not a layer of red cloth. The skirt also had been “slashed” down each side, revealing more of the red cloth underskirt.

Tessia was as tightly clad in a dress of the green cloth bought by her hostess a few days before. To her relief, it was plain at the front, and while it did have slashes in the skirt, and along the sleeves, the cloth beneath was a demure black.

Dakon and Jayan wore over-robes, too, in black and dark blue. Back in the village the fashion had seemed extravagant and a little silly, but now it looked dignified and appropriate. It suited them both, she decided, then wondered if that meant they suited the city life better than life in Mandryn.

Perhaps Jayan
, she thought.
But maybe not Dakon.
Her master did not look particularly relaxed. Black clothes and a frown combined to give an impression of distracted moodiness. In city clothes, Jayan looked calmly confident and she could even see a hint of why Avaria and her friends thought him handsome.