The Rogue Read online

  If the historical records Lorkin and Dannyl had encountered were correct, then it was possible for a gemstone to store a vast amount of magic. There had been one such storestone in Arvice, the Sachakan capital, many hundreds of years ago. According to Chari, a woman who had helped him and Tyvara get to Sanctuary safely, the Traitors knew of storestones but did not know how to make them. She might have been telling the truth, or lying to protect her own people.

  If knowledge of making such storestones existed, it could free the Guild of the necessity of allowing some magicians to learn black magic in case Sachakan magicians invaded again. Magic could be stored within the stones instead, to be used in the country’s defence.

  Which was why he was risking this visit to the stone-makers’ caves. He did not want to learn how to make stones, he wanted to confirm that they held the potential he hoped. Then perhaps he could negotiate a trade between the Guild and the Traitors: stone-making for Healing. It would be an exchange that would benefit both peoples.

  He knew he would have to work hard to convince the Traitors to consider such a trade. Having hidden from the Ashaki for centuries, they were rigorously protective of their secret home and way of life. They didn’t allow any mental communication in case it drew attention to the city. The only Traitors allowed in and out of the valley were spies, with few exceptions.

  But as he followed Evar deeper into the underground network of passages, Lorkin worried that it was too soon to be visiting the caves. He did not want to give the Traitors reason to distrust him.

  But as a foreigner, they might never trust him fully anyway. He only needed them to trust him enough that he could persuade them to trade with the Guild and Allied Lands. Eventually they may realise I haven’t been officially forbidden to visit the caves, and do something about it. I must take this opportunity now.

  Evar had another view: “Traitors make their own decisions – or rather, they don’t like letting others make decisions for them. If you want us to do something, you’ve got to let us think the idea was ours. Should someone discover us visiting the caves, you will have, at least, reminded everyone that we have something the Guild might want in exchange for Healing.”

  “Here we are,” Evar said, glancing back at Lorkin.

  They had been walking down a passage so narrow they couldn’t walk side by side. Evar had stopped by a side opening. Over Evar’s shoulder Lorkin saw a brightly lit room. He felt his heart skip a beat.

  We’re here!

  Evar beckoned and stepped into the room. As Lorkin followed he looked around the huge space. It was empty of other people, as far as he could see. He turned his attention to the walls and drew in a quick breath.

  They were covered in masses of glittering, colourful gemstones. At first he thought the distribution was random, but as he gazed at the swathes of colour he realised there were bands, swirls and patches of similar hues. He turned to regard the wall behind them and saw that the stones varied in size from tiny specks to crystals the size of his thumbnail.

  It was beautiful.

  “Over here we make the lightstones,” Evar told him, beckoning and heading toward a dazzling section of wall. “They’re the easiest to make, and it’s obvious when you get them right. You don’t even need a duplication stone.”

  “Duplication stone?” Lorkin repeated. Evar had mentioned them before, but Lorkin had never quite grasped their purpose.

  “One of these.” Evar changed direction abruptly and led Lorkin over to one of the many tables around the room. He opened a wooden box to reveal a single gemstone sitting in a bed of fine downy fibre. “With the lightstones you just have to imprint the growing gems with the same thought that you use to create a magical light. But for stones with more complicated uses, it’s easier to take one that’s already been successfully made and project the pattern within it. It reduces the rate of mistakes and flawed stones, and you can also raise several stones at the same time.”

  Lorkin nodded. He pointed to another section. “What do these stones do?”

  “Create and hold a barrier. They’re used for temporarily damming water or holding back rock falls. Look over here …” They moved across to a wall of tiny black crystals. “These are going to be mind blockers. They take a long time to make because they’re so complicated. It would be easier if they only had to shield a wearer’s thoughts, but they also need to allow the wearer to project the thoughts a mind-reader expects to read, to fool them into not realising there’s anything going on.” Evar gazed at the tiny stones in admiration. “We didn’t come up with them – we used to buy them from the Duna tribes.”

  Dannyl’s warning that the Traitors had stolen the stone-making knowledge from the Duna people flashed into Lorkin’s mind. Perhaps that was only how the Duna people saw it. Perhaps it had been another deal gone wrong, like that between his father and the Traitors.

  “Do you still trade with them?” he asked.

  Evar shook his head. “We surpassed their knowledge and skills centuries ago.” He looked to the right. “Here are some we developed ourselves.” They approached a patch of large gemstones, their surface reflecting light with an iridescence that reminded Lorkin of the inside of exotic polished shells. “These are call stones. They’re like blood gems. They allow us to communicate with each other at a distance, but only with the gems they were raised next to. It can be hard to keep track of which ones are linked, so we can’t yet stop making blood gems.”

  “Why stop making blood gems?”

  Evar looked at him in surprise. “You must know of their weaknesses?”

  “Well … let me guess: the maker of these doesn’t constantly see the thoughts of the wearer?”

  “Yes, and only the message that the user sends is picked up by the gem receiving it, not all their thoughts and feelings.”

  “I can see how that would be an improvement.” Lorkin turned to regard the room. There were so many patches of gems, and tables laden with objects faced the walls everywhere. “What do those gems do?” he asked, waving at a large section.

  Evar shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I suspect that’s an experiment. Some sort of weapon.”

  “Weapon?”

  “For the city’s defence, if we’re ever invaded.”

  Lorkin nodded and said nothing more. Questions about weapons would be suspicious even to his new friend.

  “Weapon stones have to do things that a magician can’t already do,” Evar told him. “For someone with little skill or training, or a magician who has run out of strength. I’m hoping they make one’s strikes more accurate. I wasn’t much good at battle training, so if we are ever attacked I’ll need all the help I can get.”

  “Would you even be fighting?” Lorkin asked. “From what I understand, in battles with black magicians, lowly people like me and you are only useful as a source of extra magic. We’d probably give our power to a black magician then be sent somewhere out of the way.”

  Evar nodded and gave Lorkin a sideways look. “I still think it’s strange that you call higher magic ‘black’.”

  “Black is a colour of danger and power in Kyralia,” Lorkin explained.

  “So you’ve said.” Evar looked away, his attention moving around the room as if searching for something else to show Lorkin. Then his eyes widened and he made a low noise. “Uh, oh.”

  Turning to look in the direction toward which his friend was staring, Lorkin saw that a young woman had stepped into the room, entering from the larger main archway. He resisted casting about for the smaller back entrance; it must be several steps away and the woman was bound to see them before they got there.

  Looks like we’re going to get into that trouble Kalia wanted us to avoid.

  A moment later, the woman looked up and saw them. She smiled at Evar, then her gaze slid to Lorkin and her smile faded. She stopped, looked at him thoughtfully, then turned and walked out of the room.

  “Have you seen enough? Because I think it might be a good time to go,” Evar said quiet
ly.

  “Yes,” Lorkin replied.

  Evar took a step toward the back entrance and then stopped. “No, let’s go through the main way. We don’t want to look guilty now that we’ve been seen.”

  They exchanged a grim smile, took deep breaths, and started toward the archway the woman had disappeared through. They had almost reached it when another woman appeared, scowling angrily. She saw them and strode over.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded of Lorkin.

  “Hello Chava,” Evar said. “Lorkin’s here with me.”

  She looked at Evar. “I can see that. What is he doing here?”

  “I’m taking him on a tour,” Evar replied. He shrugged. “No rule against it.”

  The woman frowned and looked from Evar to Lorkin and back again. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and a look of annoyance crossed her face. “There may be no rule,” she told Evar, “but there are … other considerations. You know the danger in interrupting and distracting stone-makers.”

  “Of course I do.” Evar’s face and tone were serious now. “That is why I waited until these makers had gone home for the night, and didn’t take Lorkin to the inner caves.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “It is not up to you to decide when it is appropriate. Did you seek permission for this tour?”

  Evar shook his head. “Never had to before.”

  A flicker of triumph in Chava’s gaze set Lorkin’s heart sinking. “You should have,” she told them. “This must be reported, and I don’t want either of you out of my sight until the right people have heard about this, and decide what to do with you.”

  As she turned on her heel and strode toward the archway, Lorkin glanced at Evar. The young man smiled and winked. I hope he’s right about not needing permission, Lorkin thought as they both hurried after Chava. I hope there isn’t some law or rule that nobody told me about, too. The Speakers had instructed him to learn the laws of Sanctuary and follow them, and he’d been very careful to do so thoroughly.

  But he couldn’t be as unconcerned as Evar was. Even if they were both right, Chava’s reaction had confirmed Lorkin’s fears: that he had tested the Traitors’ trust in him by visiting the caves. He only hoped he hadn’t gone too far, and ruined his hopes of them ever trading with the Guild – or letting him go home.

  CHAPTER 2

  AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL

  Dannyl put down his pen, leaned against the back of his chair and sighed.

  I never thought that taking on the role of Guild Ambassador again, in a country like Sachaka, would have me sitting around doing nothing, bored and alone.

  Since Sachaka wasn’t part of the Allied Lands, he had no local youngsters hoping to join the Guild to test for magical ability, no matters concerning local Guild magicians to deal with, and no visiting Guild magicians to arrange accommodation and meetings for. Only the occasional communication between the Guild and the Sachakan king or elite came into his hands, or matters of trade to settle or pass on. That meant there was very little for him to do.

  It hadn’t been like this when he’d first arrived. Or rather, the nature of the work had been the same, but he’d also spent a lot of time – usually evenings – visiting important and powerful Sachakans. Since he’d returned from chasing Lorkin and his abductor all the way to the mountains, the invitations to dine and converse with Ashaki, the powerful elite of Sachaka, had all but stopped.

  Dannyl stood up, then hesitated. The slaves didn’t like it when he paced the Guild House. They flitted out of his way or peered around corners at him. He’d hear their whispered warnings preceding him, which was distracting. He paced in order to think, and didn’t need whispering interrupting his thoughts.

  Eventually they’ll learn to stay out of sight, he told himself, stepping out from behind the desk. Either that or I’ll have to get used to walking in circles around my room.

  As he emerged from his office into the main room of his apartment, a slave standing against the wall threw himself on the floor. Dannyl waved a hand dismissively. The slave gave him a cautious, measuring look, then scrambled to his feet and vanished into the corridor.

  Walking slowly, Dannyl crossed the room and entered the corridor. It was strange and a little ironic that the way Sachakan homes were designed made them appealing buildings for pacing. The walls were rarely straight, and the corridors of the larger private part of the house meandered in gentle curves that eventually linked together.

  The next cluster of rooms had been Lorkin’s. Dannyl paused at the main entrance, then moved inside. Any day now, a replacement assistant would arrive and take up residence here. Dannyl moved to the bedroom door and stared at the bed.

  I don’t think I should mention that a dead slave woman once lay there, he mused. I would find that knowledge disturbing, and probably lie awake at night trying not to imagine a corpse lying next to me.

  The body had been a nasty discovery, but worse had been finding that Lorkin had disappeared, along with another slave. At first he had wondered if Sonea had been right to fear that the families of the Sachakan invaders she and Akkarin had killed over twenty years before would take their revenge on her son.

  After questioning the slaves and following the clues he’d gathered, with the help of the Sachakan king’s representative, Ashaki Achati, he’d discovered that this wasn’t the case. The people who had abducted Lorkin were rebels, known as the Traitors. Achati had arranged for five Sachakan Ashaki magicians to join them, and they had chased Lorkin and his abductor into the mountains. Into Traitor territory.

  A mere six Sachakan magicians and one Guild magician could never have stood up to a Traitor attack, however. Dannyl had eventually realised that the only reason the Traitors hadn’t attacked was that it might have led to more incursions into their territory. If Dannyl and his helpers had come close to discovering the Traitor base, however, they’d have been killed. Fortunately, Lorkin had met with Dannyl and assured him that he wanted to go with the Traitors and find out more about them.

  Dannyl turned from Lorkin’s former bedroom and slowly paced out of the apartment, feeling a gloom settle over him. He’d been relieved to know Lorkin was safe. He’d even been excited at Lorkin’s hopes of learning about magic the Guild had no knowledge of. What he hadn’t grasped was how awkward the situation had been for his Ashaki helpers.

  They had been obliged to continue searching until Lorkin was found. Giving up out of fear of attack would have been a slight to their pride. Dannyl had saved them that humiliation by making the decision himself. It had seemed only fair, after they had put themselves in danger for him and Lorkin. But he hadn’t understood the harm it would do to his status within the Sachakan elite.

  The corridor curved to the left. Dannyl ran his fingertips over the rendered white wall, then stopped at the opening to another apartment of rooms. These were for guests, and had rarely been occupied in the many years the Guild had used the building.

  I’ve fallen out of favour, Dannyl mused. For giving up the hunt. For fleeing from the Traitors like a coward. And probably also for letting a Guild magician I was responsible for and outranked join an enemy of the Sachakan people.

  He would have made the same choice, if faced with it again. If the Traitors did have knowledge of a new kind of magic, and Lorkin could persuade them to teach it to him and let him return home, it would be the first time in centuries that the Guild’s store of magical knowledge had been added to. He did not count black magic as new; it was more of a rediscovery, and it was still considered dangerous and undesirable.

  Ashaki Achati had assured him that some regarded Dannyl’s “sacrifice” of his pride as admirably noble. Dannyl could have avoided it by asking his Ashaki helpers to help him come to a decision, thereby spreading the damage among them. But that would have risked a group decision to continue the hunt, and that wouldn’t have done anyone much good.

  Dannyl did not enter the guest apartment, instead moving on down the corridor. Soon he reached the Master’s Room, t
he main public room of the building. Here was where the owner or person of greatest status within a typical Sachakan house greeted and entertained guests. Visitors entered the property from the main courtyard, were greeted by a door slave and led through a surprisingly humble door, down a short corridor, and into this room.

  He sat down on one of the handful of stools arranged in a half-circle, thinking of the many delicious meals he’d been served while sitting on similar furniture in similar rooms. Achati, the king’s representative, had been given the role of introducing Dannyl to important people, and instructing him on protocol and manners. It was both interesting and a little worrying that this man was the only one who was still able to visit Dannyl without any disfavour rubbing off on him. Was Achati immune to such social rules, or was it something else?

  Is he visiting because his interest in me is more than political?

  Dannyl remembered the moment Achati had indicated he would like to have a closer relationship than friendship. As always, he felt a mix of emotions: flattery, trepidation, caution, and guilt. The guilt was not surprising, he reasoned. Though he’d left Kyralia feeling frustrated with and detached from his lover, Tayend, they hadn’t made any clear decision to part.

  I’m still not sure I want to. Perhaps I’m being sentimental, not wanting to let go of something that only exists in the past. Yet when I ask myself if I’m interested in Achati, I can’t answer either way. I admire the man. I feel we have a lot in common – magic, interests, our age …