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

False Hopes

Any fears Sonea may have had about meeting Akkarin again so soon after their battlements encounter were unrealised. When she returned to Wilden's room, the guards were still at the door, inside Akkarin was deep in conversation with another Warrior and barely acknowledged her existence. Soon afterwards, he left her alone, with only Wilden for company. The Warrior was beginning to lose the cold and clammy feel to his skin and she was sure that there were little movements in his hands and feet. She gave him some more of the potion, pleased to see almost all of it go into his mouth and not come out again.

The problem of being left with an unresponsive person was that it gave her too much time to think. However, she was not left alone for long because one of Akkarin's Warriors came to watch Wilden as it was time for the evening meal. Leaving him with instructions to make sure Wilden swallowed regular mouthfuls of water, Sonea made her escape. She had enough time to use a bathing cubicle so went there first. She chose the one farthest away from the door. It was not one she had used before and it was a little dusty, as if it was not used very often. However, the bath was a good size and the water fragrant. She heated it quickly and stripped off her robes and her resemblance to Jalette. She allowed herself only a few minutes to soak as her hunger had returned and she didn't want to miss out on a meal.

She dried herself quickly and tossed the towel on to a nearby stool. To her annoyance, it slipped off onto the floor. She bent down to grab it and let out a grunt as her hand brushed along something gritty and sharp. There was blood seeping from a graze along the edge of her hand and as she sucked at it, her eyes were scanning the floor looking for whatever had caused her injury. She caught a glimpse of something glistening right in the corner. She knelt down to get a closer look; to her surprise she found it was some chippings of granite. She picked some up and felt the tell-tale tingling of magic. It was part of the walls of the Fort.

She carefully swept up all the pieces and looked at them lying in her palm. Exerting a milder aspect of a forcestrike, she reduced the material to powder, releasing the magic which she quickly absorbed. She felt its rush as it mingled with her own source. It was strong and already she could feel her depleted resources start to recover a little. But it was not enough. Where had the chippings come from? She shuffled along the floor, still on her knees, looking for a hole or an indentation in the walls. Eventually she found it, low down, near the floor and obscured from view by dust and a cobweb or two. It was a rough indentation, as if someone had tried to gouge out a stone, using a sharp piece of metal, but had given up after a while. She ran her fingers around it and inside it. It wasn't very big, only about two fingers' width across and half as much again deep, but the stone had crumbled inside. She was able to use her magic to enlarge the hole and break off some more chippings. Quickly she reduced them to powder and drained the magic, relishing the rush and growth of her own power.

At last, she had a method of supplementing her own natural magic which solved her most pressing problem. She would be able to return each day and take a little more of the granite and no one would ever need to know. She disguised the hole, just in case someone else spotted it and noticed the tell-tale marks where she had extended the opening.

She was in a cheerful mood as she made her way to eat. The room was half empty as servants had begun serving the meal some time ago. She found an empty table and settled down to enjoy a plateful of meat slices in gravy with a variety of vegetables. She was really hungry and couldn't wait to taste it. The food was certainly better than she was used to back in Imardin. She had barely started when Kelda slid into the seat opposite. Sonea could tell the Alchemist was excited.

"Thanks to you Jalette, we have been successful!" she whispered, not troubling to hide the exultation in her voice.

"Successful?" Sonea asked calmly, although a cold hard lump was starting to form in the pit of her stomach.

"Yes, Akkarin is captured!"

Sonea's mouth opened in shock and she shut it with a snap. It would not do to give Kelda the wrong impression. She congratulated the other girl and asked, "Where is he? Is he injured?"

Kelda grinned at her, "He certainly made an impression on you, didn't he?"

"I am a Healer," Sonea replied stiffly, furious with herself for reacting so sharply. "Call it a professional interest if you like; so tell me, is he injured?"

"Come and see for yourself!" Kelda replied and stood up. Sonea, with only a moment's regret for her uneaten meal, followed the Alchemist from the dining hall. Kelda scurried up two flights of stairs, then set off down one of the interminable corridors which seemed to honeycomb the Fort. At the end of this particular corridor, she paused before a narrow door. When she opened it, Sonea could see a spiral staircase which disappeared into the gloom. Kelda started up it, still moving quickly. Sonea managed to stay only a couple of steps behind her although she was conscious of a shortness of breath.

The climb seemed to take a long time, then at last, Kelda stopped so suddenly that Sonea ran into the back of her. She muttered an apology, but Kelda put a finger to her lips, before quietly opening another narrow door. They emerged into an extremely dusty room which looked as if nothing had disturbed it for years. There was very little in it, a few pieces of broken furniture, one or two large boxes and some material dropped in a heap. There was no sign of Akkarin.

Sonea opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Kelda again put a finger to her lips, then beckoned Sonea to follow. They crossed the room until they reached another door which Kelda opened quietly. Sonea followed her through it and found herself in a gallery which ran the whole length of a much larger room. It was the sort of place a noble household might use for musicians or a choir during a celebration. She could hear the faint sound of voices steadily rising and falling in a type of chanting. It was like nothing she had heard before.

Slowly, quietly and bent double following Kelda's example, Sonea shuffled forward until she could just see over the edge. There in the centre of the room, she could see Akkarin down on his knees, the heavy black skirts of his robes pooled around him. Standing in a circle were a number of magicians, their scarlet, purple and green robes creating a rainbow contrast with the black figure at their feet.

She must have made an instinctive movement to go to him, because Kelda tugged sharply at her arm, "Be still!" she hissed, "they know what they are doing."

"What are they doing?" Sonea whispered.

"They are dampening his power, so he can't respond. Then once it is firmly controlled, we can do what we like with him."

Did she mean they would kill him? Sonea was afraid to ask. The scene below was like something out of her nightmares. It reminded her of the time before the gates of the Guild, when Akkarin was lying on the ground, the knife in his chest and his life oozing out with his blood. I have to do something! She frantically considered her options.

She could overpower Kelda and leap down to disrupt the circle. There were only around half a dozen other magicians, and in total, their power would not be enough to overwhelm her. But what if the spell they are using damages Akkarin? This was not what she had imagined when she blithely stated she would protect Akkarin; then she had been thinking of something much more straightforward like a physical attack, not one using magic.

The rhythmic chanting seemed to change pace and Sonea noticed that one or two of the circle were exchanging anxious glances. At their feet, the figure of Akkarin remained still, his arms straight by his sides, his face impassive. Then Sonea heard a whisper of mental communication.

Is this all?

More glances were exchanged between the members of the circle which gave Sonea hope that somehow their plan was beginning to fail.

Is this all?

The whisper came again, but fractionally louder.

Is this all?

The mental voice was louder now.

Who is this? a different mental voice exclaimed.

Keep the circle! someone else all but shouted.

By now, Sonea had recognised Akkarin's mental voice. She also felt the tell-tale tingling along her nerves which showed that higher magic was being used. Akkarin moved suddenly, falling forward until his hands were flat on the floor. The circle around him were completely disrupted, their chanting ceased as they broke ranks. Sonea watched Akkarin. His fingers seemed to meld into the floor. The tingling sensation increased and she recognised it suddenly. It was the building's magic which somehow Akkarin was tapping into.

In one smooth movement he regained his feet. Around him shimmered a shield, but unlike any Sonea had seen before. It seemed to have impregnated within it an echo of the sparkling granite which permeated the Fort.

Some of the Warriors from the circle began to send a variety of strikes against Akkarin, but they could not penetrate his shield. Akkarin made no move to retaliate, instead he began to communicate with his erstwhile captors.

Your power cannot hold me, he sent. You cannot break my shield.

His mental voice was not triumphant, instead he sounded like a man repeating an undeniable fact. Despite this, the others continued to try, even though it was obvious Akkarin was telling the truth. He simply stood still until even the slowest or perhaps the most desperate among them gave up.

I am not your enemy, in spite of what you have been told, Akkarin went on. The Guild faces a threat and cannot afford to be divided. The time will come soon when your loyalties will be put to the test.

"We will never follow you!" one of the Warriors all but shouted. "You are a betrayer of everything the Guild stands for with your forbidden knowledge and tainted magic. We will find a way to destroy you!"

Akkarin made no answer but pointed to the door, "Go back to your leaders and tell them of your defeat. Tell them also that any attack on me will face the same lack of success as yours has done." His voice became icy, "Next time I shall not be so patient."

He stood and watched until the last one had left the chamber. Then he looked slowly around the room. Was it only Sonea's imagination that his glance lingered for a moment longer on the gallery and the place where she and Kelda hid? When next she risked a glance over the edge, he had gone.

Beside her, Kelda leaned back against the wooden panel and let her breath out slowly. "That was rather disturbing," she said and it was obvious that she was shaken. "We had no idea he could throw off that particular spell. It has worked against our most powerful magician and we tried it with several of our group at once and none could evade it."

"What do you know about his black magic?" Sonea asked curiously. "Have any of you read much about it?"

"Of course not!" Kelda snapped. "Do you think we want to contaminate our magic with any of that forbidden stuff?"

"No," Sonea said quickly, "but if you intend to fight a black magician, wouldn't it be better to know something about the sort of magic he uses?" I can't believe I'm saying this, she thought ruefully, but she had a part to play after all.

Kelda stared at her for a moment, a frown creasing her forehead, before eventually saying, "Enough of this, you need to get back in case he wonders where you are. Just keep with him as much as you can, continue to make him interested in you and I will let you know what you need to do next."

Back in Wilden's room, Sonea replayed recent events in her mind. There was no doubt that Akkarin could easily take magic from the Fort and that was a great relief to her because he had a plentiful supply of power literally at his fingertips all the time. She wished she understood how he did it, but at least she had an alternative, albeit one which was much slower to use.

She had recognised none of the circle around Akkarin and it made sense that the group would not use its leaders until they were sure that Akkarin was at their mercy. The setback they'd had today would make them stop and think more clearly about what they could do next. In the meantime, Sonea wondered if the Ichani would attack, as Akkarin firmly believed. If they did, what would the group do? Would they forget about Akkarin and turn their attention to defeating the common enemy, or would they refuse to have anything to do with Akkarin's defence?

She was still turning this over in her mind when Akkarin returned. She looked at him curiously, wondering if anything of his recent activities would show in his appearance or manner. Unsurprisingly, he looked the same as ever, calm and controlled. He drew his chair up to the side of the bed, but next to her rather than his usual place opposite, and asked about Wilden.

"He seems to be recovering," she said, "but very slowly. He can move his hands and feet slightly and he can swallow the potion more easily. My treatment is working as I expected."

"Good," he replied, before smiling at her, "but I hope Wilden's recovery won't mean I will not see you again. Have you thought about my offer?"

"I am flattered you think I could help your Warriors," she said, "but I would like a little more time to consider. My mother has been unwell, as you know and I may have to go away again."

He nodded, "Yes, I had heard. It was fortunate that you were able to return to the Guild in time for this expedition."

She glanced at him quickly but his face remained unreadable. What did that mean?

"My mother's illness has periods when she is much better," she explained hastily. "Each time, I hope that it will prove permanent."

"So do I, so do I," came the swift response.

He took her hand and gently turned her to face him, "I hope there will be a time when you can take your place among my allies and well-wishers. You are one of my well-wishers, aren't you, pretty Jalette?"

There was no disguising the flush of colour in her cheeks, or the dryness of her mouth which made speech difficult as she stuttered to respond. "Of course…I wish you well, Lord…err…Akkarin…"

And just as he did before, on the Warrior's Walk, he laid his hand against her cheek and whispered, "Good girl."