The Ambassador's Mission

“Yes. But …” Regin frowned. “My informant was not sure of the timing. I fear it may be very soon. Today, perhaps. They said something about taking advantage of the Guild being distracted. I haven’t seen the ones I suspect are involved so far today.”

She looked at him. “I must return to the Hearing, Lord Regin.”

“Of course. But …” He grimaced. “If you can speak to him as soon as you are able to I … I think he would listen to you.”

“I will,” she told him. “But now I’d better return to the hall. Can’t keep Administrator Osen waiting.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but his gaze remained anxious. Turning away, Sonea hurried out of the classroom back into the corridor, where the remaining novices froze and didn’t recover in time to bow until she was well past. Once she was out of sight she broke into a jog, slowing only when she turned from one passage into another in case she collided with someone. Finally, she made it out of the passages into the Great Hall. To her relief, Dannyl and Lorkin stood outside the Guildhall, still waiting to be called inside.

An awkward wait followed. She did not want to increase her son’s discomfort by joining him and Dannyl. Nor was it appropriate for her to talk to the former Ambassadors and the trader, who were chatting together. None of the crowd seemed inclined to approach her, and she saw nobody she knew who wouldn’t mind her company right now. Pendel was not among them. So she had to stand alone and wait.

After several long minutes the doors to the Guildhall finally opened. Relieved, Sonea watched as Osen gestured for Dannyl and Lorkin to enter. He looked up and nodded to her. For once his expression wasn’t cold and distant. He almost appeared sympathetic.

Uh, oh. Does this mean they overruled my protest?

Her stomach sank. Then her heart began to beat faster. She kept her expression as neutral as she could manage as she walked past the crowd into the hall. Once inside, she could not help scanning the faces of the Higher Magicians. Vinara’s wrinkled face seemed to express guilt. Peakin was frowning with what might be uncertainty, but Garrel’s looked smug. She felt her stomach sink even further.

Looking higher, she met Balkan’s gaze. His expression gave away nothing. But Kallen … Kallen looked annoyed. Hope filled her.

Then she looked at Rothen and her heart stopped beating. He knew she could read him too well these days, so he wasn’t even trying to hide anything. His eyes were full of apology, and he was shaking his head.

“Black Magician Sonea, the Higher Magicians have considered your protest carefully. They find there is no strong evidence that Lord Lorkin will be in grave danger if he enters Sachaka, so long as he remains in the protection of Lord Dannyl and the Guild House and does not flaunt his parentage needlessly. Do you accept this decision?”

She looked at Osen, drew in a deep breath, forced her face to show no sign of the turmoil growing inside her, and nodded.

“I do.”

“Then I declare this Hearing over.”

Disbelief and then jubilation filled Lorkin after Administrator Osen announced the Higher Magicians’ decision and he felt a sudden desire to let out a whoop. But it would not have been appropriate in the dignified surrounds of the Guildhall, and not kind to his mother.

As always, she showed little of her thoughts or feelings. How she managed that he could not guess. Long practice? He hoped that one day he would inherit the ability. Still, he saw small hints that others did not. The slight sag of her shoulders. The hesitation before she answered Osen’s final question. As she walked over to him, he saw how wide her pupils were. But wide with anger or fear?

“Don’t worry about Lorkin,” Dannyl said quietly to her. “I will make sure nothing happens to him. I promise you that.”

She looked at him and her eyes narrowed. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Dannyl actually winced. “I know.”

“And you,” she said, her eyes snapping to Lorkin. “You had better be careful. If some Sachakan murders you in your sleep I’ll hunt you down and make you admit you were wrong.” The smallest twitch of a smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll remember that,” he said. “No getting murdered.”

The smile faded and she gazed at him in silence for a moment. Then she abruptly turned to Dannyl.

“When will you be leaving?” she asked.

“As soon as possible, I’m afraid,” he replied apologetically. “The Guild would rather someone had gone to Sachaka to learn from Lord Maron before taking on his duties, but Maron had to return to Kyralia in a hurry. Apparently if we leave the Guild House empty of an Ambassador too long they’ll find another use for it, and we’ll have to go live out in the country.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“How long is too long?”

“We don’t know. They’ve never told us.”