Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (25 page)

Melisanda sat back and sipped her taillin. ‘Now, before we continue, do either of you have any questions about what you’ve seen so far?’

Chiannala was desperate to ask outright what was bothering everyone, but didn’t dare; not on her first day. In any case, she knew she wouldn’t get a straight answer.

Haslen pushed back his untidy hair and nervously raised his hand. ‘What will we be expected to do here? At first, I mean.’

‘For the first few days you’ll mostly be observing the rest of us work.’ Melisanda gave him a tired smile. ‘Don’t worry – unless there’s a desperate
emergency we’ll ease you in gently, and you’ll be supervised and helped at all times. We’ll put you with a mentor and you’ll accompany them on their daily work, fetching and
carrying for them and lending them an extra little boost of power when needed. They’ll introduce you to the simpler, hands-on magic as they work, and of course you’ll also have lectures
on the theory from the senior—’

‘I thought you said we would be thrown in at the deep end,’ Chiannala interrupted sharply.

Melisanda gave her a hard, appraising look. ‘I said if an emergency should arise you might be thrown at the deep end, and in this place there is always that possibility. If we have a
serious crisis we may need all hands to help out – even if only temporarily. But had you been listening, Brynne, you would have heard me say that
unless
there is such an emergency,
you’ll be eased in gently.’

Her voice was winter-cold as she continued. ‘One of the most important things you must learn while training in Healing magic – any sort of magic really, but this discipline in
particular, since it deals so directly with life and death – is to listen carefully. We can’t spare the time to keep repeating ourselves to lazy or careless students. Remember, any
sloppiness or mistakes on your part could easily cause the death of another Wizard.’

With that she pushed her chair back and walked out of the refectory, heading to the covered walkway that led to the main building and leaving Chiannala, whose face was burning in mortification,
fuming in her wake.

Melisanda has no right to speak to me like that. Who does she think she is, the arrogant cow! I have a right to ask questions and voice my opinions, don’t I? It’s not even as if
I wanted to be here in the first place, studying her stupid Healing magic.

She didn’t realise how loudly she was thinking, until they reached the main infirmary building and Melisanda, with one hand on the door latch, swung back to face her. ‘You know,
Brynne, I just can’t understand you. Only a few months ago, when you came to the Academy for your pre-training assessments, you professed a tremendous interest in Healing and said you
couldn’t wait to study it further, yet now you don’t want anything to do with it. What has happened between then and now? You seem to have done a complete about-turn on your earlier
wishes.’

She took a deep breath, controlling her annoyance. ‘Be that as it may, I know you don’t want to be here now. You’ve been making that perfectly clear ever since the assignments
were given out. But at this stage of your life you need to be broadening your horizons and learning that magic, at the bottom of it, is all one and the same, and though we’ve broken it up
into Luens for our own convenience there are numerous crossover points. I’ve shown you today, for instance, how we work closely with other disciplines – in this case the Nurturers and
the Spellweavers – and we sometimes work with others too. It’s all knowledge, it’s all magic, and at this point in your life it’s all adding to your experience and your
skills. You have years and years ahead of you to specialise, and narrow your focus, but it’s just too early for you to do that now.’

Unexpectedly she smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Don’t think I can’t remember what it’s like. When you first come here it’s all so
exciting. You want pursue your particular interests, to devour them all in one gulp. Don’t worry – you’ll get your chance to do exactly that as you grow older, but initially we
can show you other interests, other options; skills that you didn’t know you were good at, or hadn’t even considered before. It’s our job here at the Academy to open your eyes to
all the amazing possibilities of magic, and teach you the basics of each. Only then can you make an informed choice of which aspects you want to pursue. Only then can you call yourself a proper
Wizard. Don’t close yourself off to all those possibilities, all that potential, Brynne. You’ll be missing so much.’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned and went into the
infirmary, leaving Chiannala, for once, without anything to say.

As they toured the main infirmary area, with its airy white rooms and comfortable beds, Chiannala could not help but be aware of the air of subdued activity around the place. Despite the fact
that everything they could see was calm and under control, there was a muted bustle in the background, with people rushing back and forth. Was this something to do with the uneasy atmosphere she
had sensed? Somehow, she got the feeling that it was not. These people were busy and purposeful; more concerned and preoccupied than afraid and frustrated. It seemed to Chiannala that this must be
one of the emergencies Melisanda had talked about; probably the mystery patient that Lameron had mentioned earlier. Her curiosity burned hot and bright, and she longed to be given a chance to
participate, to prove herself to these Healers; all the more so because whatever the secret was, she wanted to be in on it. Knowledge was power, and she wanted all the power she could get.

While the Healer was showing them around the infirmary Chiannala kept a careful eye on all the comings and goings, and noticed that most of the activity centred around a door at the far end of
the right-hand wing. Whenever she tried to casually drift in that direction, however, the eagle-eyed Melisanda deflected her with a seemingly casual comment or question and steered her away –
until suddenly the door burst open, and a harried-looking Healer came out. ‘Melisanda, can you come at once? He’s fading on us again – and without Tinagen—’

‘I’ll be right there.’ Melisanda turned to Haslen and Chiannala. ‘I’m sorry, but you see how it is. You can go early today, but be back in good time tomorrow
morning, ready to start your proper training.’ She hurried away from them without a backward glance. Clearly, she had already dismissed them from her mind.

Chiannala didn’t care. After Melisanda’s lecture, she thought it might be wise to stay out of the way for a while, and not be seen hanging about trying to pry into matters that were
clearly (according to the Healers) none of her business. There would be time enough to find out what she wanted to know, and right now, her only wish was to get out of this place and back to her
room, where she could be alone. Melisanda’s lecture to her had stung, of that there was no doubt, but it had also contained a lot of things to ponder and brood upon. Haslen wanted to linger
with her and talk about their day, but she brushed him off as quickly as she could, abandoning all pretence at tact or good manners, and ignoring the hurt looks he was sending after her as she
hurried away to her own little sanctuary. Not that that there seemed to be much peace there at present. Normally she would have put the unexpected free time to good use in the library, or
practising spells in her room, but today she found herself oddly distracted, unable to settle to anything while the Healer’s words were still echoing in her head.

‘At this stage of your life you need to be broadening your horizons and learning that magic, at the bottom of it, is all one and the same.’

‘It’s all adding to your experience and your skills.’

‘It’s our job here at the Academy to open your eyes to all the amazing possibilities of magic, and teach you the basics of each.’

‘Don’t close yourself off to all those possibilities, all that potential.’

‘You have years and years ahead of you to specialise, and narrow your focus.’

After pacing for a time she went to lean on her windowsill, and stood there looking out over the city. Nightfall found her there still, staring out unseeing as the lamps were kindled, glittering
in the twilight all over Tyrineld.

She was chilled to the core by the thought of how close she’d come to having her deception discovered. How could she possibly have known that Brynne had professed such an ardent interest
in becoming a Healer? That the wretch had spent her assessment at the Academy choosing the absolutely last thing that Chiannala would want to do? It was the farm girl’s revenge from beyond
her watery grave.

It was all very well for Melisanda to talk about years, she thought. Though she had to admit that there was good sense in the Healer’s advice, she finally admitted to herself the fear,
deep in her most secret heart, that she wouldn’t have time to waste broadening her horizons and exploring her options. She had to learn all she could as quickly as possible; to make the most
of every opportunity, every precious moment, just in case—

Her thoughts pulled up short. The truth hit her as though she had slammed into a brick wall.

Just in case this was all taken away from her.

Just in case they penetrated her deception and discovered who and what she was.

A despised half-breed with the taint of mortal blood.

A murderer.

An impostor who had no right to be at the Academy.

She tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, finding no respite from her fears, and was back at the Healers’ complex the next morning before Haslen had even finished breakfast. At
some point during the night she had come to a decision: if Healing was the only magic she could learn right now, then by all Creation she
would
learn it. She realised now that by kicking
so hard against the choices her mentors had made for her, she had only made them suspicious, and brought herself to their attention. And of course, stupid Brynne wanting to be a Healer hadn’t
helped. Well, she thought, she would just see about that. Once she had spent some time with the Healers, it should be easy enough to invent reasons why it just wasn’t for her after all.

The idea of pretending to be no good at it never even crossed her mind. Chiannala was determined to excel at whatever she tried. Her pride would permit no less.

~

T
he high tower room, tucked away in the most isolated, least used part of Hellorin’s sprawling palace, was a far cry from Tiolani’s
spacious, luxurious chambers. The walls were stone, cold, stark and unadorned, and a single mat of fraying woven straw was all that protected her bare feet from the chilly flagstone floor. The bed
was hard and narrow, and a flimsy wooden chair and table were the only furnishings. Across every surface, floor, walls, ceiling and even the window glass and the door, she could faintly discern the
silver shimmer of spells set in place against the use of magic. There would be no apporting in or out of this chamber, Cordain had made absolutely sure of that.

Tiolani, with nothing else to do, paced endlessly from door to window and back, savage and frustrated as a caged wild beast. From a physical point of view it was the means of exercising herself
in her cramped prison; emotionally it was a way to vent the savage turmoil of anger and hate that had consumed her since she’d been incarcerated by that treacherous snake Cordain, her ailing
father’s chief and most trusted counsellor.

Since she had been imprisoned, Tiolani had viewed the world through a haze of fulminating rage. Everyone had betrayed her. First, and worst of all, her lover Ferimon, aided by his sister Varna,
had been using her as his stepping stone to power. Over and over, she shuddered at the memory of the way she had listened to him, believed him, and confided her deepest secrets while she lay
trustingly in his arms.

He had persuaded her to rely on him, isolating her from the other courtiers who might have helped her, but she had desperately needed all the comfort he could provide after the murder of her
brother and the near-death of her father in the same ambush – which, she had subsequently discovered, he had caused. It had been Ferimon who roused the feral humans of the forest to ambush
the Wild Hunt. He had caused her brother’s slaughter and bribed certain so-called healers to keep the Forest Lord hovering on the brink of death while he used his twisted charms to seduce
Hellorin’s daughter, now suddenly the heir apparent. And she, gullible, stupid innocent that she’d been, had walked open-eyed into every one of his honeyed traps, and let him do as he
would with her person and her realm.

No one was there to comfort Tiolani as she paced away the torment of her captivity. No one was there to tell her that she’d been young, alone, felled by terrible grief, and easy prey for
the slick and handsome schemer. Aelwen, her mother’s half-sister and Hellorin’s former Horsemistress, might have supported her in this blackest of times – but Aelwen had betrayed
her too.

Aelwen and her head groom Kelon had fled the city, taking with them several of the precious Xandim, including Hellorin’s mount Corisand. When Tiolani, Ferimon and the Wild Hunt had pursued
them, Ferimon met his death at Kelon’s hand, but not before the terrible extent of his treachery had been revealed. Tiolani’s eyes had been opened to the truth and reluctantly she had
joined the Horsemistress’s new companions, one of whom – she still could scarcely believe it – had been Corisand herself, now revealed as the Windeye, or Shaman, of the race of
shapeshifters who’d been enslaved and trapped in their equine forms by the Forest Lord.

She had returned to Eliorand with Aelwen and Taine as part of the plan to free the Xandim, but when they were arrested by that traitor Cordain, the Horsemistress had apported her lover out of
danger, leaving Tiolani behind to shift for herself.

I don’t owe her anything.

In her father’s absence it had been her responsibility to rule the Phaerie, and she had failed miserably, thanks to those she had mistakenly relied upon. They were all false and
treacherous. Not one of them could be trusted. She must save herself.