Akkarin sat in his room, staring out the moon. He could hear faint sounds from Sonea's room and imagined she was not yet asleep either, but he had expected that. He was sure she was thinking hard about the revelations he had made to her earlier in the day. He, too, was still thinking about that conversation. After many years, he had finally taken someone into his confidence, had finally confessed the dark secret that he had kept closely guarded for so long. It was freeing in a way, as he had somewhat expected, but what he had not expected was a second feeling that came with the freeing feeling—worry. He was not worried about Sonea telling anyone of his secret; he knew enough about her character to know she would never disclose what he had told her without his permission. He was worried, however, about her safety. She was stubborn and determined, and he was sure that she was going to ask to take a more active role in his nighttime activities now that she knew about them. And though he knew deep down that she would be an asset, he also knew she would be a distraction for him. He could not afford to be distracted.
He sighed, turning away from the window. He knew he should at least try to sleep, but he was feeling restless. In the past few weeks, he had fewer requests to appear in Court than usual. At first, he was happy about that, for it gave him the time to focus on his plan of bringing Sonea into his confidence. However, after two weeks without any meetings with the King, Akkarin realized that Merin was avoiding him. He knew why immediately as well—Merin was still upset about the situation with Edgar. And while Merin's anger at Edgar was certainly justified, Merin of all people should have known that Akkarin had no control over his brother's actions nor any desire to do so. But his concern for his sister had blinded him to the facts of the situation. Though generally grateful that Merin was a kind-hearted man at heart who genuinely cared about those around him, there were times where Akkarin wished he could be a bit more coolly rational.
Like you? The voice in his head mocked. That, of course, was the crux of the problem. By taking Sonea into his confidence, he had essentially bound her future to his. If he were ever found out—and he knew that some day he must be—she would be tried as an accomplice. He did not want that for her, did not want to destroy the future of such a promising young magician, but he simply did not see another way to proceed. Takan was right that someone else needed to know. There was too much at stake for him to not prepare for the possibility that he would one day no longer be around to protect Kyralia. If—when-suspicion fell on him, he would do whatever he could to push it away from Sonea, hopefully leaving her in the Guild so she could provide them with the information they needed to protect themselves and Kyralia. He had even put instructions in place for learning black magic, instructions that Takan was to reveal to the Higher Magicians only in the event of his death. It was not as easy to learn from the written word as from the mind of another, but it could be done. No matter the preparations he made, however, he could not stop the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he was missing something and that something had the potential to destroy them all.
With those melancholy thoughts, Akkarin began stripping off his black robes, wishing for the moment that he never had to put them on again. But he knew that he would, for he had made his choices and now had to bear the burden of them.
A week later, Merin announced his official engagement to the Lonmar princess. Akkarin was invited to the engagement ceremony, but he had a suspicion he only received an invite because custom demanded Merin give him one. Indeed, when he arrived at the palace and found that he was the only one at his table who was a member of the King's inner council, he knew that Merin was still upset with him. Akkarin did not need his mind reading skills nor even his years in Court to realize that every person attending the function had noted his lowered place and surmised the likely reason. For his part, Akkarin ignored the whispers, focusing instead on trying to pick out the princess's mental voice. There were only a dozen or so people left from the original Lonmar delegation, for most had returned home soon after the princess arrived, so Akkarin would have far fewer mental voices to sort through. Unfortunately, due to the seating arrangements, he heard very few Lonmar voices and doubted any belonged to the princess given his distance from her.
Damn you, Edgar, Akkarin cursed mentally. And damn you, too, Merin for not seeing the situation for what it is and insisting on alienating an ally because of your cursed pride. Though skilled in the game of politics due to years of practice, Akkarin often wished that he did not have to play. He knew that even if he did gather information about the princess, it would be viewed with suspicion because of his brother's mistake. Not for the first time, Akkarin wondered if it was worth it. Perhaps he should not even be trying to gather information which would likely be ignored anyway. But of course, Akkarin was not the type of person to give up or dismiss a situation as hopeless. He had decided long before that he would follow things through to the very end.
For once, Akkarin did not slip out once the dancing started after dinner. He hoped that perhaps he could use the opportunity to move closer to the princess and catch a glimpse of her thoughts. He had no shortage of choices for partner, and he picked a noblewoman about his age from House Thorin, a woman he had met before who he knew was a decent enough dancer and had a tendency to chatter on without expecting a response. Given that tendency, Akkarin was able to focus his attention on moving them subtly closer to the King and his new fiancee, his mind open. The dance floor was crowded which meant the mental voices were more distracting, but Akkarin was able to sort through them by focusing his full attention on the task.
A sudden jolt caused him to stop suddenly, glancing around the ballroom and ignoring his partner who was questioning why they had suddenly ended their dance. He had felt unshielded magic. It was a brief, but he had no doubt what it was. He glanced first at the King's Advisors, Lords Teos and Walken, who were still deep in conversation, obviously not affected by the magic. For a moment, Akkarin wondered if it might have been their magic he felt, but that made no sense. The Guild carefully trained magicians to shield their magic, and both Advisors had been in their robes for many years. It seemed unlikely they would slip up in such a way.
A feeling of dread settled in the pit of Akkarin's stomach as he considered the likely source of unshielded magic, a dread that only increased when he heard Takan's mental call. Master, you should return as quickly as you can. Our contacts have news for you. Akkarin sent a quick assent, excusing himself from the dance and ducking out of the room as quickly as he could. Fortunately, most people were accustomed to his lack of enthusiasm for Court events, so no one stopped him.
As he rode back to the Residence in the carriage, Akkarin considered the possible sources of unshielded magic. The slaves were often not trained, having just had their magic released before being sent to the city. For that reason, once he had a general idea of where they were, it was not too difficult to track them. However, he had never tracked one to the Inner Circle before, much less near the palace. Given the brevity and low intensity of what he had sensed, Akkarin doubted the slave was actually in the palace, but it was also unlikely that Akkarin would have felt the magic he did if the slave was deep in the Slums. It seemed that the slaves were growing bolder, and that made them all the more dangerous.
Takan had the rough clothing Akkarin wore in the Slums already waiting, and he quickly changed and entered the tunnels as soon as he arrived back at the Residence. He found a guide already waiting for him, looking around impatiently. The boy set a quick pace through the tunnels, finally emerging near some old warehouses. Akkarin frowned, for they were obviously quite far from the Inner Circle. He likely would not have felt unshielded magic so far away, even with senses as keen as his were, but that would mean there were two people who did not know how to shield well, something that increased the feeling of dread forming inside Akkarin.
He forced himself to move to the warehouse, knowing that he needed to focus on one problem at a time. He did not want the slave to get away, for every day he spent in the city was one more day where he might be adding strength to himself. Akkarin followed his senses to the upper level of the warehouse, a skin-tight shield around his body. There were no windows upstairs, so it was quite dark, but Akkarin did not need his eyesight to find the location of the other magician. He sensed him in a corner and immediately struck, hoping to catch his opponent unaware. Unfortunately, a shield hummed into existence around the person before Akkarin's strike reached him. He stood then, unfolding his body from its huddled position, and Akkarin realized he was wrong in his assumption of gender. The person facing him was definitely female, a fact that was obvious from the graceful curves under her tight-fitting clothes and the delicate features of her face. Akkarin frowned. They had never sent a female slave before.
He did not have long to puzzle over the situation, however, for she suddenly sent a strike at him, battering his shield with more power than he had expected. His frown deepened as he automatically poured more power into his shield. Cery's spies were very good. She could not have been in Imardin long or they would have noticed her which meant that she did not have long to strengthen herself in the city. So how was she so strong? Had they let her take strength before she left? That did not track with the Ichani's previous behavior, for they would be wary of letting a slave grow strong enough to overtake them, but perhaps they were growing desperate.
Akkarin sent a series of strikes at her, curving them around to try and find a weak point in her shield. She continued to batter his shield with powerful strikes, focusing them all on the front. Akkarin felt it waver slightly and poured more power into it. He had never faced a slave this strong before, and it was beginning to worry him. Though he had an ample store of power, especially now that Sonea was giving him power as well, he knew that the longer he fought, the more likely it was that he attracted attention. The last thing he wanted was word of a magical battle in the Slums to reach the Higher Magicians. Trying to end it more quickly and keep their fight contained, he created a second shield behind her and used it to nudge her towards him.
As he continued to rain strikes down on his opponent from all sides, Akkarin also sent a few up from under the floor, hoping to catch her off guard. He felt himself relax slightly when he saw her falter as one of his strikes hit its mark. He sent a few more, watching as she fell to her knees, her shield winking out of existence. As soon as it was down, he moved forward, already reaching for his knife. Before he could draw it, however, he felt a searing pain across his forearm and looked down to see blood oozing from a fresh cut. Immediately, he drew his arm back, his shield springing to life just as his opponent pushed herself to her feet. Her strikes began anew, but this time, they lit up the entire room, nearly blinding. With a start, Akkarin realized she was attempting to draw attention to his fight. Akkarin paused his strikes for a moment while she continued to batter his shield with her strikes, slowly backing away. In addition to the light, some of her strikes were veering off in unexpected directions, making a good deal of noise as they shattered various objects in the warehouse. With a noise of frustration, he dropped the shield behind her, letting her turn and run out of the warehouse and into the night. He knew she would be killing soon to strengthen herself, but he could not think of another option at that point. Cradling his cut arm, he started back toward the tunnels.
He made his way quickly back to the Residence, not even bothering to heal the cut on his arm yet despite the fact that it was quite painful. He was not sure if the woman's plan had succeeded—if they had attracted attention, he needed to be back at his Residence as quickly as possible to keep suspicion away from him. He could not move as quickly if he had part of his attention focused on healing, and he knew the wound was not fatal, so he decided it could wait. He knew he should also wait to fully consider the implications of meeting the woman tonight, but as he entered the familiar tunnels directly outside the University, he could not stop his mind from turning to that topic. He had sensed for weeks that the Ichani were increasing their efforts, and he could not help but feel that it would not be long before he was no longer able to hold them at bay. That was certainly a sobering thought.
The following evening, Akkarin lay awake in bed long after he retired. Noises from the room next door told him he was not the only one to do so either. For a brief moment, he considered going to her, but what could he honestly say? And why would she want to speak with him anyway? It was not as if they were friends or even had a normal Guardian/Novice relationship. Until a few weeks before, she had hated him, and he was not sure that feeling had ever completely disappeared. She was certainly still not completely comfortable with him, and despite her acceptance of everything he had told her, he could still see a hint of fear from time to time before she managed to tamp it down. Of course she still fears you, the voice in his head reminded him. You worked very hard to ensure that she did. He had, in fact, worked very hard over the years since his return to make sure that all of the Guild was a bit afraid of him. After spending most of the journey home from Sachaka thinking about what to do, it was the only workable solution he had found. If most of the Guild felt he was aloof and a bit frightening, no one would ever grow close enough to start questioning him about his travels and risk learning his secret. Even his relationship with Lorlen, as close as it had been before he left, had turned quite formal upon his return. And then when Lorlen had discovered his secret. . .
Akkarin pushed those thoughts from his mind. His solution had worked and that was what mattered. He had worried a bit about accepting the post of High Lord, but in the end, his mysterious persona had actually worked in his favor for that as well. The Administrator saw to most of the day-to-day running of the Guild, and he was the one magicians went to if they needed something. As High Lord, Akkarin was called upon for the larger concerns, and he found that the mystery which surrounded him, coupled with the fact that everyone knew he was quite powerful, gave him an authority which few could match. Generally, it did not take much effort to sway others to his way of thinking, and on the few occasions when he did feel it necessary to make a declaration without a vote, no one questioned him. As for his dealings in Court, he had been training for those for many years. They were almost second nature to him.
His mind slowly came back to the real reason he lay awake in bed that night. He had broken yet another vow, this time a vow he had made to himself to never teach another magician the dark skills he had learned so long ago. And not just any magician either—he had taught a novice, his novice, a student he had committed to helping. Yes, he had taken over as her Guardian in order to keep his secret, but he had truly intended to take his duties as Guardian seriously. He was not planning to ruin the future of such a promising young woman. And yet somehow, he had done just that.
Finally, he rose from bed and donned fresh robes. It seemed that he would once more be healing away exhaustion. But perhaps he could use the opportunity to clear some of the paperwork that had been cluttering his desk for far too long.
For the next two weeks, Akkarin spent every night teaching Sonea more about black magic. He resolutely pushed his doubts about teaching her aside. It was done, and there was no going back at this point. All he could do was impart as much knowledge as he could, for a black magician with only rudimentary knowledge was quite dangerous. He tried to console himself that at least she would not have to spend years accumulating knowledge as he had done, but it was a small consolation.
She had proven a quick study, but he had expected as much. After two weeks of learning about the taking and storing of power, he felt she was ready to learn another important part of black magic—the making of blood gems. Part of him had wanted to delay the lesson, knowing she would only be able to practice with him and fearing what she might learn from his mind, but he had quickly dismissed those thoughts. He was quite skilled at hiding his thoughts—even with a blood gem, she would not be able to see things in his mind that he did not want her to see.
It was in the middle of that lesson on blood gems that everything had changed.
A/N: Sorry for the length of time between these chapters. I didn't realize just how hard it was going to be to write about the events that are in the books. I don't want to go too slowly and bore readers, but I also don't want the text to seem too choppy. I'll probably have at least 3-4 more chapters to get through the content in the books, but after that, things should speed up significantly, especially since I already have a few chapters written.