Dannyl nodded in agreement. “Which is why they use cunning, secretive methods. I wonder… do you think they could overthrow the country merely by assassinating and manipulating the right people?”
Achati’s expression became serious. “It is possible, but if they could have done it before now, surely they would have.”
“The perfect opportunity may not have presented itself yet. It may require some new and extraordinary factor.”
Achati’s eyebrows rose. “Like the chance to abduct the son of a powerful Guild magician?”
“Do you think that would be extraordinary enough?”
“No.” He shook his head and smiled. “Manipulating Kyralia and Sachaka into a war would be too risky. What if Kyralia won? What if we resisted their manipulations, joined forces and attacked the Traitors together? The Guild may prove better at hunting them than we are.” He paused. “Which reminds me. Has the Guild responded to the news of Lorkin’s abduction yet?”
“No,” Dannyl looked away. I’m not going to be able to put this off any longer. Achati will start wondering why they’re taking so long. “That reminds me – I should check on their progress.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Achati rose. “It’s late and I should get some rest. Tell me what they say in the morning.”
“I will.”
As the door to the Sachakan’s room closed, Dannyl reached into his robe and drew out Administrator Osen’s blood ring. He stared at it, running through his mind all the ways he’d considered phrasing the bad news, and choosing what he hoped was the best.
Then he slipped on the ring.
As Sonea opened the door to her rooms, she was surprised to find Administrator Osen standing outside with one hand raised ready to knock. The startled look on his face faded and he straightened.
“Black Magician Sonea,” he said. “I must speak with you.”
“It’s lucky we caught you before you left for the hospices,” another voice added.
She turned to see Rothen standing behind and to one side of the Administrator. At once she felt her stomach sink and her heart start to race. There’s that look again. Something’s happened to Lorkin…
“Come in,” she said, stepping back and beckoning impatiently.
Osen strode inside, followed by Rothen. She closed the door and turned to stare at the Administrator expectantly. He regarded her soberly.
“I must inform you that your son has…” Osen paused and frowned. “I’m not sure what to call it. It appears Lorkin has been abducted.”
Sonea’s legs lost all strength and she felt herself sway a little. Rothen took a step toward her, but she gestured for him to stop. She drew in a deep breath, forced herself to stand firmly and turned back to Osen.
“Abducted?” she repeated.
“Yes. By a young female magician posing as a slave. Ambassador Dannyl believes there is a possibility your son went willingly, but he’s not certain of it.”
“Ah.” A traitorous and seductive relief trickled through Sonea. Women. Why is it always women with Lorkin? She felt her heart slow to a calmer rhythm. “So this is more of a matter of social impropriety than impending and certain death?”
“We certainly hope so. But it is more complicated than that. It seems we are not the only people with an underground, secret and not entirely lawful society, and they may be involved.”
“Criminals?”
Osen shook his head. “Ambassador Dannyl described them as rebels. They call themselves the Traitors. It is rumoured that they are all women.” Osen’s eyebrows rose, hinting that he thought this unlikely. “They are also magicians – black magicians. The woman who abducted Lorkin is one. She killed another slave the same night and drained her of power. Dannyl is not sure whether the abductor is the Traitor and the slave just got in her way, or the dead slave was a Traitor and the abductor is not. Either way, the Traitors have indicated that they want her and Lorkin found, and apparently they have such influence that this makes the likeliness of that happening very good.”
Sonea took a moment to absorb that. “So when was Lorkin taken away?”
“Three nights ago.”
Sonea’s heart stopped. “Three nights! Why wasn’t I told immediately!”
“You are being told immediately.” Osen smiled wryly. “When I impressed upon the new Ambassador that he only contact me in the gravest of emergencies, he took me far too seriously. He expected to find Lorkin quickly, and only told me of the situation tonight.”
“I’ll kill him,” she muttered, moving away to pace the room. “If this woman is a black magician – do they have any other kind over there? – how is Dannyl going to force her to give Lorkin back?”
“He has the assistance of the Sachakan king’s representative.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be found? Who knows what she’ll do to survive? Threaten to kill Lorkin?” Sonea stopped, suddenly out of breath. She felt as if her lungs weren’t expelling as much air as she was drawing in. Her head was starting to spin. Grabbing the back of a chair, she forced herself to breathe slowly. When her head had cleared she turned to Osen. “I have to go there. I have to be there when they find him.”