Putting down the book she had been failing to concentrate on, Lilia looked around Sonea’s guest room and sighed. Though Sonea had been absent or asleep most of the time, her rooms felt strangely empty now that she had left for Sachaka. Lilia was suddenly more conscious of being alone, and that nobody — no magician, at least — was likely to visit.
Well, none except Kallen if I don’t turn up to classes on time, but it’s not like he makes social visits.
Anyi might still slip in at night via the secret opening in the room’s wall panelling but now that she, Cery and Gol were living under the Guild it was safer for Lilia to visit them. There had always been a risk that someone would discover Anyi in Sonea’s rooms and realise they hadn’t seen her enter or leave by the door.
The only other person who visited Lilia on a regular basis was Jonna, Sonea’s servant and aunt. Jonna visited twice a day to deliver meals. But she must also come here after I’ve left for classes to clean, too, Lilia thought, remembering how she usually returned to find everything tidy. While Jonna usually slipped into Sonea’s bedroom after the evening meal to change the bed linen and gather robes to wash, that was only because Sonea had worked night shift at the hospices.
Looking over at the open door of her room, Lilia regarded the bag she used to carry textbooks and notes around. It held the food she’d taken from the Foodhall that day, some soap, and clean wash cloths from the Baths, ready to take to her friends. She also had news from Kallen to deliver, but until Jonna arrived with the evening meal, Lilia wouldn’t be able to slip away.
In the meantime she tried to study. She looked down at the book in her hands. She’d never really caught up with the lessons she’d missed while a prisoner in the Lookout. Teachers would notice if she slipped even further behind.
Once Cery, Anyi and Gol have settled in, I’ll be able to get back to my studies, she told herself. Maybe I’ll study all next Freeday. If my plan works tonight at least there’ll be one less thing to worry about.
Her thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. She stood up in case it was a magician, and opened the door with magic. To her relief, Jonna bustled in. Though burdened with a lacquered box and a large jug, the woman managed to bow before placing it on the table.
“Good evening, Lady Lilia.”
“Good… evening.” Lilia hesitated as she opened the box and saw, to her disappointment, that it held one bowl of a thick soup and a single bread roll, as well as a creamy dessert. Of course. She won’t be bringing more than one person can eat now. Which made it even more important that Lilia’s plan worked.
“What’s wrong?” Jonna asked.
“I… I was hoping Anyi would visit tonight.”
Lilia had been surprised to discover Jonna already knew Anyi was Cery’s daughter, and of the secret entrance to Sonea’s rooms, until she learned that Jonna was Sonea’s aunt. It certainly explained the way Jonna bossed Sonea around in private, with no fear and little regard for status.
Jonna smiled as she moved the food from the tray to the table. “She drops by a lot these days.”
Lilia nodded. “At least she’s safe when she’s here.”
“And she can get a decent meal,” Jonna added. She straightened. “I’ll go find something for her. Something that will still be nice even if it has gone cold, so she can take it away with her if she has already eaten.”
“Could you…?” Lilia grimaced. “Could you bring something every night? Even if she doesn’t eat it, there are others she’d like to help. I’d like to help. And… can you bring lamp oil so she doesn’t have to find her way here in the dark?”
Jonna looked sympathetic as she nodded. “Of course.”
“And… I don’t suppose… if it’s not asking too much… What does the Guild do with old bedding and broken furniture?”
The servant’s eyebrows rose. “Most furniture here doesn’t break often. It’s so well made it lasts for hundreds of years. If anything does break, we fix it, and if it’s no longer good enough for magicians it goes to the servants.” She shrugged. “Same with old bedding. When it’s too worn for servants it becomes rags.” She looked at Lilia. “But there’s more old bedding about than furniture. Let me see if I can get my hands on some.”
Lilia nodded. “Thank you. I’d buy some things for her, but I’m not allowed to leave the grounds to go shopping.”
“I could get them for you,” Jonna offered, “if you write down what you want.”
“Do you have time? You must be busy.”
“Not as busy as you’d think, especially now Sonea’s not here. Fetching things for you is part of my job.”
“Well… thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
Jonna gestured at the bowl. “Now, you start on that before it goes cold and I’ll go fetch something for Anyi.”
As the door closed behind the servant, Lilia sighed in relief and triumph. Her plan had worked, though she felt a little guilty at suggesting that what she had asked for was going to needy people when it was only going to Cery, Gol and Anyi. But they do need it.
Looking down at the meal Jonna had brought, she decided to eat it and give the food she’d taken from the Foodhall to Cery and Gol. Soup was much too hard to transport, and the dessert was as likely to spill. At least if Jonna saw evidence that Lilia was eating some of the food she’d brought, she wouldn’t worry over Lilia eating enough — or giving it all away.
As she ate, she thought about how such small, everyday things could become so important. Cery and his friend and daughter were safer in the Guild passages, especially with the passage connecting them to the Thieves’ Road destroyed, yet something as trivial as getting food to them was a daily difficulty and risk. If Lilia didn’t have to constantly find them something to eat, it would be much easier to hide their presence from the Guild.
I want to do better than bring them food, too, she thought. I want them to be comfortable. I can’t ask Jonna to buy anything luxurious, or she’ll grow suspicious. Unless… I could say it’s for me …
Finishing the soup, she got up and gathered paper, pen and ink and began writing a list.
As Sonea blinked awake she marvelled that she had slept at all in the rocking carriage. Looking across at Regin, she saw that he was conscious and watching her. He smiled faintly and politely looked away.
How long was I asleep? She pulled aside the screen covering the window over the carriage door. Green hills surrounded them, tainted with the gold of a late-afternoon sun. Quite a while. Poor Regin. He’s probably been awake and bored for most of the day.
For the first few hours of their journey the previous night, their conversation had revolved around the arrangements they’d made to take care of things in their absence, Lilia’s progress and future, the places they would probably stop along the journey and some of the information they had been given about Sachakan society. When Regin began yawning she insisted he try to sleep. He’d eventually done so, a travel pillow braced between his head and the side of the carriage. The roads nearer the city were smoother than those further into the countryside, so he was not often jostled awake.
She’d spent the night staring out of the window, thinking about the tasks she had been given and worrying about Lorkin. Remembering the last time she had travelled this road, following Akkarin into exile, she felt echoes of emotions from twenty years before. Fear, rejection, hope and love, all softened with time. She let them come, held onto them for a little while, and then released them to fade into the past.
This journey brought some interesting new emotions. Aside from fear and worry over Lorkin, and anxiety at the potential for everything to go badly for herself and Regin, there was a strange elation. After twenty years of being restricted to the Guild grounds, she had suddenly been set free.
Well, not exactly free. I can’t just roam about wherever my fancy takes me. I am on a mission.
“What are you thinking?”
Regin’s question brought her back to her surroundings. She shrugged.
“About being outside the city. I’d assumed I’d never leave it again.”
He made a low noise of disgust. “They should trust you more.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think trust was the problem. They had no choice but to trust me. I think they feared what would happen if we were invaded again and I wasn’t around. Or if Kallen turned on them.”
“Do you think Kallen will take advantage of your absence?”
Sonea shook her head, then she remembered the one trait she did not like in Kallen and frowned.
“What is it?”
She sighed. If Regin can read me this easily, how am I going to fare when I meet with King Amakira and the Traitors? I suppose I’m not fully awake and on my guard yet. Though I wouldn’t forgive myself if I failed to free Lorkin or make an alliance just because I was sleepy.
What to say? Regin had clearly picked up that she had concerns about Kallen, and he would imagine all sorts of reasons if she didn’t give him one. She had to tell him something.
The truth. It isn’t exactly a big secret, anyway.
“Rot,” she said. “Roet. It is his weakness. If I was going to corrupt Kallen, I’d do it by controlling his access to the drug.”
Regin’s brows knit together. “Do many people know of his weakness?”
“Vinara does. Rothen, too. I suspect many of the Higher Magicians do, though we’ve not discussed it. Or, at least, they’ve not discussed it while I was present.”
“Whoever sells it to him knows as well,” Regin added.
“Yes.”
“Lilia used roet too, didn’t she?”
“When she was with Naki. Lilia doesn’t appear to have become addicted to it. In fact, she has a distaste for roet and roet users now. I think she blames it for some of the foolish things she and Naki did.”
Regin looked thoughtful. “So the Guild has one black magician addicted to roet, and one resistant to it.”
“And one who wouldn’t go near the stuff if you paid her to,” Sonea added, shuddering.
He looked at her and smiled. “You’re too smart for that. You don’t let anything back you into a corner.”
Sonea felt her cheeks warm. “Except the Guild.”
“A worthy exception.” He looked away. “I wish I’d had your determination and willingness to defy convention when I was younger.”
She shook her head. “You? Not determined? I always got the impression you were completely sure of yourself and what you wanted from life.”
“Yes… but I never had to make any hard decisions. I was told everything had to be a certain way because it kept everyone safe, powerful and wealthy, and I didn’t question that. But as I grew older I did begin to question. I saw that my lack of resistance came out of a fear of not being accepted by my peers. I saw that the only people we were keeping safe, powerful and wealthy were my family and House. That the Houses resist change because they fear it will diminish their power and wealth. And still do.”
“Kyralia has changed a lot in the last twenty years. The Houses haven’t lost power or wealth as a result.”
Regin shook his head. “They will. It may take a long time, but it is going to happen. The warning signs are there, if you know what to look for. And you know what I’ve discovered?” He looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t care. Let them fall. They’re built on lies and greed.”
Sonea felt a pang of sympathy. Since his rather public separation from his wife, Regin had been prone to the occasional sullen and defiant comment about the habits and expectations of the highest class. Part of her approved, another sympathised, yet she wondered how much of his disenchantment would remain once the personal pain faded.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t think so if you wound up a beggar on the street,” she reminded him gently.
He looked at her and his shoulders sagged a little. “Probably not. But maybe I’d be a better man. Maybe I’d even be a happier man. By taking in lower-class entrants, the Guild has made it possible for people to cross the barriers between classes. I see the newcomers boasting about it, and I want to warn them that there is a cost. Then
… then I see that the cost doesn’t apply to them and I feel, well, jealous. Somehow they get to have the wealth and power and magic, but they have no obligations to honour ancient agreements or traditions, or to only associate with the people their House approves of, or marry the woman their family selects.”
“They may have to eventually.”
Regin shook his head. “No. Look at you.” His eyes rose to meet hers. “You were never forced to marry.”
“I’m sure if I’d decided to, plenty would have been said about my choice.”
“Yet nobody would have dared tell you not to.”
“That’s only because I am the first black magician. I’m an exception. You can’t make predictions based on me.”
Regin gave her an odd look, opened his mouth to speak, then frowned and closed it again. His gaze slid away from hers. Sonea felt curiosity rising.
“What were you going to say?” she asked.
He glanced at her, his expression uncertain.
“I… I was going to ask you why you didn’t marry, but I guess it’s obvious — and rather rude of me to ask.”
She shrugged. “Not rude. Nor is it why you think. It’s true I couldn’t have entertained the idea for a long time after Akkarin died, but not for all of the last twenty years. I might have married Dorrien, if the timing had been better, but he met someone else long before I was ready.” And a good thing that is, too. “I don’t think we would have been well suited. For a start, he loves the countryside and would have had to live in the Guild grounds to be with me, since I could not leave.”
Regin watched her now with an almost guilty interest. It’s likely a lot of people have wanted to ask that question, she thought.
“By the time I was ready, nobody seemed interested,” she continued. “Men my own age hadn’t quite got over their prejudice toward magicians from the lower classes, and the only magicians from the lower classes were much too young. All were intimidated by black magic. Some of the Higher Magicians hinted to me that they thought a husband would be a weakness that someone might exploit through blackmail — as if Lorkin wasn’t that already. Then there was Lorkin. He was always very jealous of other men in my life.”
Regin frowned. “What…?” He paused and shook his head.
“Yes?”
He grimaced. “What will you do if King Amakira threatens Lorkin?”
Not expecting the change of subject, Sonea felt her heart freeze. She paused to draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, before answering. “I will point out that it is Lorkin who knows about the Traitors, not me. It would be far more sensible to torture me to get Lorkin to speak.”
Regin’s mouth dropped open, then he swallowed. “Is it wise for you to put the idea of torturing you into the king’s mind?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure it will occur to him the moment he learns I’m on my way to meet him. If he’s willing to torture me, then we must conclude that he has put aside any reluctance to rouse the anger of the Guild and the Allied Lands. There will be no chance of getting Lorkin back, anyway.”
She was desperately proud of herself for not letting her voice catch on that last sentence, though it was a close thing. If I can keep this up, maybe I will be able to hide my feelings in front of the Sachakans and Traitors.
“I hope for all our sakes that it doesn’t come to that,” Regin said, with feeling.
She nodded in agreement. If King Amakira was willing to torture her, then Regin would not be safe either.
He shifted across the seat so that he was sitting opposite from her, then held out his hands. “It’s been a full day since the Meet and my strength has recovered. You should take my power now, before we arrive at the Stayhouse.”
She stared at him as reluctance froze her again. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t hesitate to take power that’s willingly offered, when I’m allowed to and may need it. She hadn’t felt this embarrassment during the Meet, she realised. What was it about using black magic on another person in private that felt uncomfortably… intimate. And illicit. Perhaps because the only other time I’ve done it privately was with Akkarin.
Regin was watching her, his brow creased with growing puzzlement. Drawing in a deep breath, Sonea took his hands. She felt magic flow from him and began to store it within herself.
“I’m sorry. I can’t get used to this,” she told him, shaking her head.
He nodded. “That’s understandable. You were forbidden to for so long. In fact, I did wonder if you had forgotten how to do it, after all this time.” His mouth briefly widened into a teasing grin.
Sonea managed a smile. “If only that was possible.”
“It’s all clear,” Gol said.
Cery nodded. He’d sent Gol ahead to check that their room remained undiscovered. It was hard to give up old habits of caution. They picked up their burdens and carried them through the passages to the room. Cery set down two battered old chairs, Anyi dropped two bales of hay from her shoulders to the floor, and Gol tossed a bundle of sacks next to the box he’d been using as a seat.
Next, they emptied their pockets of the fruit, vegetables and other items they’d picked up around the farm sheds. Cery looked up at Gol as the man set down a reel of coarse thread.
“Where’d you find that?”
Gol shrugged. “In one of the sheds. There was a basket full of them, so I figured nobody would notice if I took one. And this…” He turned one side of his coat out to reveal a long, curved needle piercing the lining. “If I’m going to make mattresses, we’ll need it.”
Cery regarded his friend dubiously. “ You’re going to make mattresses?”
“Anyi said she doesn’t know how to sew.”
“Oh, did she?” Cery smiled at his daughter’s lie. “And you do?”
“Well enough for this. I used to help my da mend his sails.” Gol slipped the end of the thread through the eye of the needle with telling dexterity.
“You’re a man with hidden depths, Gol,” Cery said. Sitting down on one of the chairs, he smiled as he thought back to their raid on the farm. His assumption that servants were living in the sheds had been proven wrong. All were empty of occupants. Though free to move about, he, Gol and Anyi had taken care not to leave signs of their passing and hadn’t taken anything that wasn’t already there in abundance. Anyi had suggested relocating some of the other chairs around the place as if someone had simply moved them for some purpose and forgotten to return them, to hide the fact that a few were missing.
Anyi was poking at the fruit. “They’re not ripe,” she said. “A bit too early in the season. It was hard to tell in the dark. How are we going to cook these vegetables?”
“I only picked ones that didn’t have to be cooked,” Gol said.
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Eat them raw? I’m not that hungry.”
His eyebrows rose. “Some are better raw, especially when they’re fresh. Give them a try.”
Anyi didn’t look convinced. “I’ll wait for Lilia. She can cook them with magic.”
“She might not always be able to bring us food,” Cery reminded his daughter. “The fewer times she has to come see us the less risk of the Guild discovering us here.”
“Then I need to find us a secret entrance to the Guild kitchens.” Anyi stood up. “I’m going to see if she needs any help carrying something.”
Gol shook his head as she grabbed a lamp and left. “Doesn’t know what she’s missing,” he muttered.
Cery looked at his friend. “I hoped you two would take a lot more than three days before you started getting under each other’s skin.”
“We might not have any choice about the…” Gol stopped as he looked up and saw Cery’s expression. His lips twisted into a smile. “Yeah. I’ll try not to. She doesn’t like being stuck underground, either.”
“No,” Cery agreed. Hearing a sound, he rose and moved to the room’s doorway. High voices reached him, though he could not hear what they said. “Looks like Lilia was already on her way.”
Sitting down again, he waited for the girls to arrive. Lilia carried the usual lacquered box, this time full of bread buns stuffed with spiced meat and sticky seed cakes.
“Now that’s real food,” Anyi said as she seized a bun.
Lilia grinned. “I’ve made an arrangement with Jonna. She’s going to bring something each night for Anyi to eat and give to poor people, and is going to get me lamp oil and blankets. She thinks I’m being charitable.”
Cery felt a flash of alarm. “You didn’t tell her about us?”
“No.” Lilia looked at the chairs, straw and Gol sewing sacks. “All this came from the farm?”
Anyi must have told her about their raid. “Yes.”
“They won’t miss it?”
“We were careful,” Anyi assured her.
Lilia sat down on one of the boxes. “Well, don’t go back for a few days. I’ll see if I hear anything about trespassers or thieves. Now… I have news from Kallen.”
Cery’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes?”
“He says people in the city are starting to gossip about your absence. Some believe you must be dead. Others think Skellin has you locked up or cornered somewhere.”
“That’s not far from the truth,” Gol muttered.
Lilia glanced at him, then looked again as she noticed what he was doing. Her eyebrows rose but she made no comment on Gol’s sewing skills. “Skellin’s men have been taking over your…” She waved a hand. “Whatever it is that you do.”
“Loan money, protect people, run businesses, introduce people, sell-” Cery began.
“Don’t tell me,” Lilia interrupted. “As Sonea says, it’s better I don’t know so I can’t be accused of being involved in anything.”
“I thought I was doing a good job of making it all sound legitimate.” Cery looked at Anyi, who rolled her eyes.
“Do any of Skellin’s people think Cery’s dead?” Gol asked.
Lilia shrugged. “Kallen wasn’t that specific. He did want to know if Cery was planning to take back these… businesses.”
“Tell him I will be in no position to until he gets rid of Skellin. Has he made any progress?”
The young woman shook her head. “He didn’t say so. I think he was hoping you’d be as useful to him as you were to Sonea.”
Cery sighed and looked away. “You’d better make it clear to him that I’m no use to anybody now.”
Anyi made a wordless sound of protest. “You’re useful to us.”
Cery gave her a disbelieving look. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be stuck here. Down here I’m nothing but a problem for Lilia.”
Lilia frowned. “You’re not a problem. Not a big one, anyway.” Anyi put a hand on her shoulder.
He scowled. “The only mark I can make now is to be a nagging worry at the back of Skellin’s mind. People might say I’m dead, but he won’t completely believe it because he hasn’t seen a corpse. He has to consider I may be alive, and up to something.”
He’ll be moving in on my territory cautiously, and questioning everyone who might know where I am. Cery felt his heart spasm painfully with guilt. My people will want to believe I’m dead, because if I’m alive and not fighting Skellin it’ll seem as though I’ve abandoned them. If they find out I was hiding beneath the Guild, they’ll think I’ve been living in luxury with my magician friends, not this.
If only there was some gain to be had, other than mere survival, from being here under the Guild.
We’re isolated from the rest of the city. Magicians are not far away, and one in particular — Lilia — is able to help us. Few people would dare come here, knowing that. Cery frowned. Would Skellin dare?
Perhaps if he had a good reason to.
If he did come here, he’d be very wary. He’d send scouts to make sure it was safe first. Then there would have to be a good reason for him to enter the passages personally rather than send others. No matter where or how he learned about the existence of these tunnels, and how to get to them, he’d have to suspect the information was meant to fall into his hands, and was part of a trap.
After all, I would.
But if there was something here that Skellin wanted badly enough, perhaps he would take that risk. Cery just had to think of bait powerful enough to lure him into a trap. This time it would have to be something much more tempting than the books on magic.