Disclaimer – I do not own BMT world – it belongs to Trudi Canavan

At Last

He was surprised to find himself quite nervous and smiled crookedly at his reflection in the mirror. You aren't afraid of black magic, so why should you be afraid of a witch? he asked himself mockingly. She's just an old woman using women's magic. But he knew that it wasn't just Morwhellin who made him feel this way, it was Sonea and the uncertainty about whether she'd been cured or not.

He reached for the note and reread it. It didn't actually use the word "cured" and that concerned him. Like all the notes Morwhellin had put in the box outside the room, it was bare of any pleasantries and straight to the point.

"The treatment is over and Lady Sonea will be coming downstairs this morning. Wait for her in your library."

He wondered briefly why the old witch had specified the library, then realised that it was probably nothing more than a small demonstration of her power over him. He shivered slightly. Ever since she had scanned him with her magic and had penetrated his thoughts so easily, he had been wary of Morwhellin's powers. He could readily believe how easily the young Temsin had been enchanted by Krysterne, so much so that he had revealed all his secrets to her, including his work on balefire.

Akkarin stared at his reflection, willing his features into their usual calm and distant expression. He finished tying back his hair and gave his robes a slight tug to smooth out any creases. He smiled as he remembered that he used to use magic to ensure his appearance was perfect, but Sonea's mocking comments on how lazy magicians were to use magic for even the most ordinary things in life had cured him of that habit.

He made his way to the library. Morwhellin's note had not mentioned any time, so he supposed that the old woman would make him wait. He was determined not to let any sign of his nervousness show and he ensured that his thoughts were well shielded. He sat down and reached for a book, prepared to wait as long as needed.

Some time later, he realised that although he had turned the pages and stared for a time at each one, he couldn't recall a word. He sighed and glanced at the clock. It had been almost an hour and still no sign of Sonea. He sent a mental command to Takan for some refreshments, avoiding the temptation of asking for wine this early in the day.

He got to his feet and began to pace around the room. What is the old witch doing? he fumed. Is it something more than just making me wait! Has something happened? Did the treatment really work? What has gone wrong?

His gloomy thoughts chased round and round, each one gloomier than the previous one and he seemed powerless to stop them. It was if his thoughts were caught in a fast running narrow stream, with no way out and he simply had to let them run.

Takan came in with the tray of fruit juice, tea and sweet cakes. He glanced at Akkarin, but decided not to speak. He was conscious through the blood gem link of some of his master's swirling emotions. When he was in that sort of state, Takan knew from experience he was best left alone. Having placed the refreshments on a side table, he silently withdrew.

It was only when he heard the small click of the door closing that Akkarin realised that Takan had been and gone. The High Lord returned to his desk and picked up the book again, vowing to concentrate this time. He heard the clock strike the hour and thought that if Sonea didn't emerge soon, it would be time for lunch.

Akkarin? Akkarin? Her mental voice sounded clearly in his head, strong and joyous.

Sonea! He fought to keep his mental voice calm.

I'm coming down now! she replied. I'm almost at the bottom of the stairs. I'm now in the Hall.

Her mental voice chattered on and on, giving him a step-by-step description of her journey. It was almost as if, having been unable to use any magic for months, she never wanted to stop using it again.

The door opened and she was there in the room, her face alight with happiness as she held out her hands to him. He caught them in his own and pulled her into a close embrace, all the while her mental voice sounded in his head, saying his name over and over again. He was conscious of the old woman standing in the doorway behind his wife and didn't want to give her the satisfaction of showing what he was feeling, so he gently moved Sonea from his embrace and guided her to a chair.

She was dressed in the simple linen garment Morwhellin had insisted on and he noticed that her hair had grown so that it almost reached her shoulders. He remembered his shock at finding her in the kitchens of the inn, her hair cut closely to her head, as it had been when she was a slum child. Now the curls had grown back, just how he liked it.

"So, Black Magician, you are pleased your wife can use her magic again?" The old woman's voice was full of amusement. "Perhaps you should read her mind, just to make sure my treatment has worked!"

Akkarin, who had fully intended to do just that, was annoyed that Morwhellin had suggested it. It would reinforce the impression that he danced to her tune. He stared at her coolly.

"Do you feel it necessary, Morwhellin?"

The old witch smiled openly, pleased at his response, "It would set your mind at rest, Black Magician. Lady Sonea has told me how much her Dark Lord cares about her and I'm sure she would want you to know."

Suddenly, he wished she would stop using words like Black Magician to refer to him.

"Address me as High Lord," he snapped. "It is not appropriate to refer to magicians by the colour of their robes."

Her smile broadened, "I am not describing your robes…High Lord."

It was if someone had poured cold water down his back. He remembered that the father of the child, Alysa, was an Ichani. Just how much does the old witch know?

Morwhellin turned towards Sonea, saying, "Don't be concerned, Lord Akkarin, your secret is safe with me. Who would believe an old Elyne witch, anyway…"

He watched as she placed her hand over Sonea's forehead and he felt buzzing again. She murmured something he couldn't catch and he saw his wife nod.

"Come, Akkarin, read my mind and tell me if the balefire has gone." Sonea's voice was firm. "I want you to know the truth."

He took her hand and concentrated. He slipped into her mind and went to the door which covered Sonea's magic source. As usual, it wouldn't open to his touch, but he could see the light shining brightly underneath, clean, white light with no hint of purple to dampened its brightness.

He opened his eyes and smiled down at Sonea, "All is as it should be. There is no trace of the purple tinge. The balefire has gone."

Thanks be to the Eye of Heaven, she sent. And thanks to Morwhellin too. Be kind to her Akkarin. She has worked very hard.

He nodded and turned to the old woman, "My wife and I are very grateful to you, Morwhellin, for all your hard work in treating Sonea. We will pay your price and accept Alysa into the Guild. Is there anything else you require?"

"Thank you Lord Akkarin, Lady Sonea. My price is simply that you train Alysa in her Kyralian magic and make her a good, strong magician, nothing more. She has learned everything she needs to know about my magic. It is up to you now." For once, the old woman seemed sincere, with no hidden traces of maliciousness. She went on, "I shall be returning to Elyne in a day or so and you will not see me again."

"Akkarin?" Sonea turned to him eagerly, "There's just one thing. I would like Alysa for my novice, so she can live here in the residence and we can work together."

His blood ran cold, "I don't think that a very good idea, Sonea. You have a lot to do without having a novice to take care of."

Sonea's face settled into determined lines, "I will have her for my novice, Akkarin. You cannot stop me!"

He glanced at Morwhellin and saw the triumph in her eyes. He moved towards her swiftly and grabbed her arm in a painful grip, "What have you done, you old bitch?" he hissed, ignoring a cry of protest from Sonea.

The old woman let her triumph spread across her features, "I have bespelled your wife and all she wants is to have the child as her novice." Her voice was low, so Sonea couldn't hear. "If you refuse her, she will hate you for the rest of your life…"

There was nothing he could do. He couldn't force Morwhellin to lift her spell, as there was no telling what hidden damage could be caused to Sonea. He was sickened by the knowledge of his powerlessness and the fact that he would have to give in to Sonea's request. He dropped the witch's arm and turned away. He needed a good slug of wine, but there was none in the room.

"Akkarin?" Sonea's voice was full of impatience, "What's wrong? Why don't you want me to have Alysa as my novice?"

He could feel her tension rising as he remained silent and he didn't want to provoke any feelings of hatred in her. He forced himself to smile reassuringly at her, "You've been so ill and a novice is quite a responsibility, are you sure you can cope with the workload? There's also the fact that you will soon have two little children of your own to look after. I don't want you to be overworked."

Sonea grinned in relief, "Oh, that's what's bothering you! Don't worry, Morwhellin says I am back to normal and there won't be any effects from the balefire to worry me. Anyway, Alysa will be able to help me with the children." She laughed softly, "It's time there was another occupant of the Novice's Room. Think how cheerful the Residence became, the last time there was a novice here!"

Alright, Sonea, he sent, you may have your little novice, but if she becomes too much trouble, she will have to live in the Novices' Quarters.

He was rewarded by Sonea rushing into his arms and kissing him several times. Over her head, his eyes met those of Morwhellin. The old witch was smiling back at him, but her eyes remained cold and calculating.

"You are wise indeed, High Lord," she said mockingly. "My Alysa is a good child and I shall ensure she understands what she has to do."

She turned and left them in the library, closing the door quietly behind her, well pleased with the progress of her plan.