The Ambassador’s Mission

Healer Nikea met Sonea at the door of the hospice.

“I’ve arranged a room for us, Black Magician Sonea,” she said, smiling and turning to lead Sonea away. “It’s small but we’ll all squeeze in.”

“All?”

Nikea glanced over her shoulder. “Yes. A few of the Healers I talked to had some interesting stories that we all agreed you should hear first-hand.”

Sonea smiled wryly at the young woman’s back. Most of the time it’s a relief to be around someone who isn’t intimidated by or wary of me, but sometimes there are drawbacks. I wish Nikea had asked me about this first. I don’t want too many people knowing I’m asking questions about rich magicians associating with criminals.

The room the young Healer led her to was a narrow storeroom, worryingly low in supplies. Several chairs had been arranged around the walls. Nikea did not enter, but waited until another Healer stepped into the corridor and then called out to the man.

“Healer Gejen, could you gather the others?”

He nodded and hurried away. After a few minutes he returned with five other women. Two were helpers, Sonea noted. All filed into the room and sat down, then Nikea gestured for Sonea to enter, moved inside and closed the door behind her.

A globe light filled the room with sharp brightness. All but Nikea watched Sonea expectantly.

“Well then,” Nikea said. “Who wants to go first?”

After a short pause, one of the helpers cleared her throat. She was Irala, a quiet middle-aged woman. An efficient helper, though a little cold with the patients sometimes.

“I’ll speak,” she offered. Her gaze shifted back to Sonea. “It’s about time the Guild stopped ignoring this problem.”

“What problem exactly?” Sonea asked.

“Roet. And those who sell it. It’s everywhere. In the Houses they say it spread from the slums like a plague, but out here they say it’s spread by the Houses to control the poor and reduce their numbers. Nobody really knows where it comes from. I’ve heard gossip and stories, though, that say that the ones selling it are rich and as powerful as the Houses, but have their toes rooted in the underworld.”

“I’ve heard plenty say the Thieves are using it to take over the city,” Gejen added. “One person told me it was imported by foreigners to weaken us before they invaded Kyralia. They suspected the Elynes.” The others smiled at this. Clearly none of them believed it.

“Have any of you heard of novices or magicians who crave roet? Who can’t stop taking it?”

The other helper and one of the Healers nodded. “A… a relative of mine,” the helper said. She shrugged apologetically. “He made me swear never to tell anyone so I won’t say his name. He says no matter how long he resists, the need won’t go away. I tell him he just needs to stop long enough for his body to heal properly, but he won’t.”

Sonea felt her heart sink. “Do you know who he buys the roet from?”

“No, he won’t tell me for fear I’ll stop his supply somehow.” The woman frowned. “And he said something about the source being a friend. If he had to find another seller, that person might ask for more than money.”

Sonea nodded. She looked at the others. “Have any of you heard of novices or magicians becoming involved with criminals – whether roet sellers or not? I don’t mean visiting pleasure houses. I mean trading through or with them, doing magic for money or favours?”

“I have,” the other Healer said. In her thirties, she had a young family which her non-magician husband watched over while she worked at the hospice – a practical arrangement that only Healers seemed to find unremarkable. “A few years ago, before I married Torken, a friend I’d known since our University days stopped spending time with us – my University friends, that is. He preferred some non-magician friends in the city, who met in one of these pleasure houses. He told us he wasn’t interested in the things people bought there, just the arrangement he had with the owners. Some sort of importing arrangement. He would never tell us what. Now he doesn’t even live in the Guild. He moved out into a house in the city and spends all his time helping his new friends.”

“Do you think the trade is illegal?”

She nodded. “But I don’t have proof.”

“Is he addicted to roet?”

The Healer shook her head. “Too smart for that.”

Sonea frowned. This was bad news, and something Regin would be interested to hear about, but it didn’t prove that roet was being used to lure magicians into criminal activity.

“Well, it’s always been known that some novices from the Houses have dealings with Thieves,” the other woman said. She was a thin woman named Sylia, who was a powerful and skilled Healer.

“But is that rumour or is there evidence?” Sonea asked.

“There is never evidence.” Sylia shrugged. “But young novices have always bragged about it. Often to bluff their way out of trouble with other novices, but if you asked enough questions there were always some rumours that stuck more than others.”