The Magicians' Guild (41 page)

Following the Healer through one of the open doors, Rothen watched as Sonea examined the room. It was small, containing only a bed, a cupboard and several wooden chairs.

“We do minor healing and simple treatments here,” Indria told Sonea. She opened the cupboard to reveal several rows of bottles and boxes. “Any medicines we can prepare quickly or mix beforehand are kept in easy reach. We have other rooms upstairs where more complicated preparations are made.”

Leaving the room again, Indria led them to a passage entrance next to the Treatment Room. She pointed to a door at its end. “At the center of the building are Healing Rooms,” she said. “I’ll just check this one’s empty.”

Hurrying down the passage, she peered through a glass panel on the door. Turning to look back at them, she nodded.

“It’s free,” she told them. “Come in.”

Moving down the passage, Rothen smiled as Indria held the door open for him. The room they stepped into was larger than the first they had seen. A narrow bed stood in the center and the walls were lined with cupboards.

“This is where we perform major Healing and surgery,” Indria told them. “No one is allowed in here during treatment except Healers—and the patient, of course.”

Sonea’s eyes roved around the room. She moved to a gap in the far wall. Indria followed.

“The medicine preparation rooms are right above us,” the Healer explained, pointing up into the alcove. Sonea leaned forward and peered up to the room above. “We have Healers who specialize in making medicines. They lower freshly made mixtures down these chutes as we need them.”

Her curiosity satisfied, Sonea moved back to Rothen’s side. Indria moved to a cupboard. She opened it and took out one of the bottles.

“We have the greatest store of knowledge on medicine in the world here in the Guild,” she said with unconcealed pride. “We don’t just cure people with our Healing power. If we did, we wouldn’t be able to keep up with the demand for our services.” She shrugged. “Not that we do anyway. There just aren’t enough Healers.”

Opening a drawer, she pulled out a small piece of white material. Turning to Sonea, she paused, then looked up at Rothen questioningly. Realizing what she was going to do, he shook his head. Indria bit her lip, looked at Sonea, then down at the objects in her hands.

“Ah, perhaps we’ll skip this part of the tour.”

Sonea eyed the bottle, her eyes afire with curiosity. “What part?”

Indria turned the bottle so Sonea could see the label. “It’s an anesthetic cream,” she explained. “I usually spread a little over a visitor’s palms to demonstrate the potency of our medicine.”

Sonea frowned. “Anesthetic?”

“It makes your skin go numb so you can’t feel anything. The effect wears off after an hour.”

Sonea’s eyebrows rose, then she shrugged and held out her hand. “I’ll try it.”

Catching his breath, Rothen stared at Sonea in surprise. This was remarkable. Where had her distrust of magicians gone? Pleased, he watched as Indria unscrewed the bottle and poured a little of the paste onto the square of material.

Indria frowned at Sonea anxiously. “You won’t feel anything straightaway. After a minute you’ll feel as if your skin is really thick. Do you still want to try it?”

Sonea nodded. Smiling, Indria gently wiped the paste over Sonea’s palm.

“Now be very careful not to get any on your eyes. It won’t make you blind but, believe me, having numb eyelids is a
very
peculiar sensation.”

Sonea smiled and examined her hand. Returning the bottle to its shelf, Indria dropped the cloth into a bucket inside one of the cupboards, then rubbed her hands together.

“Now let’s go upstairs and have a look at the classrooms.”

She led them out of the room and back to the main corridor. They passed several Healers and a few novices as they walked around the building. Some regarded Sonea with curiosity. Others, to Rothen’s dismay, frowned with disapproval.

“Indria!”

The Healer turned, her green robes flaring out at the abrupt movement. “Darlen?”

“In here.”

The voice came from one of the nearby Treatment Rooms. Indria strode to the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Give me a hand, will you?”

Indria turned and grinned at Rothen. “I’ll ask if the patient minds having an audience,” she said quietly.

She stepped into the room and Rothen heard several voices talking quietly. Sonea glanced at Rothen, her expression unreadable, then looked away.

Indria appeared in the doorway and beckoned. “Come in.”

Rothen nodded. “Give me a moment.”

As the Healer retreated, Rothen looked at Sonea closely. “I don’t know what you’ll see in there, but I don’t think Indria would invite us in if it was anything ghastly. If the sight of blood bothers you, however, we probably shouldn’t enter.”

Sonea looked amused. “I’ll be fine.”

Shrugging, Rothen gestured to the door. Going through, she saw that the room was set up the same as the one they had previously entered. On the bed lay a boy of about eight years. His face was white and his eyes were red from crying. The voice that called for assistance belonged to a young man in green robes, Lord Darlen, who was gently unwrapping a blood-soaked bandage from around the boy’s hand. A young couple sat on wooden chairs, watching anxiously.

“Stand over here, please,” Indria instructed, her voice suddenly stern. Rothen backed into a corner, and Sonea followed him. Darlen glanced at them, before turning his attention back to the boy.

“Does it hurt anymore?”

The boy shook his head.

Rothen looked at the couple. Despite signs they had dressed hastily, their clothes were opulent. The man wore a fashionable long coat with gemstone buttons and the woman wore a simple black cloak with a fur-trimmed hood.

Beside him, Sonea made a small sound. Rothen looked back to the bed and saw that the last of the bandages had been removed from the boy’s hand. Two deep cuts crossed his palm and blood was dripping from the wounds.

Darlen pulled the boy’s sleeve up and grasped his arm tightly. The flow of blood stopped. He looked up at the parents.

“How did this happen?”

The man flushed and his eyes slid to the floor. “He was playing with my sword. I forbade it, but he …” The man shook his head, his expression grim.

“Hmm,” Darlen turned the hand over a little. “He should heal well, though he’ll have scars to treasure for the rest of his life.”

The woman made a small choking noise, then burst into tears. Her husband put an arm about her shoulders and looked at the Healer expectantly.

Darlen turned to Indria. She nodded and went to the shelves. From a drawer she produced more pieces of white material, a bowl and a large bottle of water. Moving to the bed, she gently bathed the hand. When it was clean, the Healer carefully placed his palm over the boy’s and closed his eyes.

A stillness followed. Though the mother made the occasional sniff, all sound seemed to be muted. The boy began to fidget, but Indria leaned forward and lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay still. Don’t break his concentration.”

“But it itches,” he protested.

“It won’t for long.”

Catching a movement beside him, Rothen looked down to see that Sonea was rubbing her palm. Darlen drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at the hand and ran his fingers across it. Instead of deep wounds, fine red lines now crossed the boy’s palm. Darlen smiled at the boy.

“Your hand is healed now. I want you to bandage it every day. Don’t use it for at least two weeks. You don’t want to spoil all the work I just did, do you?”

The boy shook his head. He lifted his hand and traced the scars with a finger. Darlen patted his shoulder.

“After two weeks, exercise it gently.” He looked up at the parents. “There should be no permanent damage. Eventually he’ll be able to do everything he could before, including wielding his father’s sword.” He leaned down and poked the boy’s chest gently. “But not until he’s grown up.”

The boy grinned. Darlen helped him off the bed, smiling as the boy ran to his parents and was enveloped in their arms.

The father looked up at Darlen, his eyes glistening, and opened his mouth to speak. The Healer lifted a hand to stop him, then turned to look at Indria.

She gestured for Rothen and Sonea to follow her. They quickly slipped out of the room. As they began to stroll down the corridor, Rothen could hear the father expressing his thanks.

“Looks easy, doesn’t it?” Indria grimaced. “It’s actually very hard.”

“Healing is the most difficult of all the disciplines,” Rothen explained. “It requires a finer control and many years of practice.”

“Which is why it doesn’t appeal to some of the youngsters,” Indria sniffed. “They’re too lazy.”

“I have many novices who are far from lazy,” Rothen told her archly.

Indria grinned. “But you are such a wonderful teacher, Rothen. How could they not be the most dedicated pupils in the University?”

Rothen laughed. “I should come to the Healers more often. You’re so gratifying.”

“Hmm,” she said. “We don’t usually see you unless it’s to grumble about indigestion or the burns you get from your silly experiments.”

“Don’t say that,” Rothen put a finger to his lips. “I’m taking Sonea on a tour of the Alchemy rooms next.”

Indria gave Sonea a sympathetic look. “Good luck. Try not to fall asleep.”

Rothen straightened and pointed to the stairs. “Get on with the tour, you insolent girl,” he commanded. “Only a year since graduation, and already you think you can give cheek to your elders.”

“Yes, my lord.” Grinning, she gave a mocking bow, then started down the corridor.

Sliding aside one of Rothen’s windows screens, Sonea looked through the glass at the swirling snow. She rubbed her palm absently. Though feeling had returned hours ago, the memory of numbness was still strong.

She had expected Rothen to show her the Healers at work, and that she would have to resist the desire to be able to do it herself. Despite her determination to remain unaffected, seeing a child healed before her eyes had stirred up unwanted feelings. Though she had known she had the ability to do such things, only at that moment had she understood what she could be capable of.

Which had been Rothen’s intention, of course. Sighing, she tapped on the edge of the window screen. As she had expected, he was trying to tempt her into staying by showing her all the wonderful things she could do with her magic.

But surely he hadn’t expected her to be impressed by the previous day’s Warrior demonstration. Watching novices throw magic at each other was not going to tempt her to stay.

Perhaps he had only intended to show her that the fights were harmless. Guided by strict rules, they were more like games than real battles.

When she considered that, it was no longer difficult to see why they had reacted as they had when she had “attacked” them in the North Square. They were too used to “inner shields” and tallying “hits.” It must have come as quite a shock to see what magic did to an undefended person.

She sighed again. A tour of the Alchemy rooms would probably come next. Against her will, she felt a twinge of curiosity. Of all the disciplines, Alchemy was the one she understood least.

She frowned at a knock on the main door. Tania had bid them goodnight hours ago and Rothen had not been gone long. Her heart skipped as a name raced through her mind.

Fergun.

He would want an answer, and she hadn’t decided yet. She reluctantly crossed the room, hoping the visitor was someone else.

“Who is it?”

“Fergun. Let me in, Sonea.”

Taking a deep breath, she grasped the handle. At once, the door swung inward. The red-robed magician slipped gracefully into the room and closed the door behind him.

“How can you open it?” she asked, frowning at the handle. “I thought it was locked.”

Fergun smiled. “It was, but it will open when the door handle is turned by someone inside at the same time as someone outside.”

“Is it meant to?”

Fergun nodded. “It’s a precaution. Rothen might not be around to open the door in an emergency. Someone else can if, for instance, you started a fire.”

She grimaced. “Hopefully
that
will never be a problem again.” She gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat, Fergun.”

He glided to the chairs and sat down. As she took the seat opposite, he leaned forward eagerly.

“So, are your Control lessons going well?”

“Yes … I think.”

“Hmm, tell me what you did today.”

She smiled ruefully. “I had to lift a box off the floor. That wasn’t easy.”

Fergun drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening, and Sonea felt her heart skip in response. “What he is teaching you is not a Control exercise. He is showing you how to use your magic. If he is doing that, you must already have Control.”

Sonea felt a thrill of excitement and hope. “He said he was
testing
my Control.”

Fergun shook his head gravely. “All magic is a test of Control. He wouldn’t be teaching you to lift objects unless your control was sufficiently established. You’re ready, Sonea.”

Leaning back in her chair, Sonea felt a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
At last!
she thought.
I can go home!

An unexpected twinge of regret followed the thought. Once gone, she might never see Rothen again …

“So, are you satisfied that what I told you is true—that Rothen has kept information from you?”

She looked at Fergun and nodded. “Most of it. Administrator Lorlen explained the blocking of power to me.”

Fergun looked surprised. “Lorlen himself. Good.”

“He told me it would not be unpleasant, and that I’d never notice it after.”

“If it works properly. The Guild hasn’t needed to do it for many, many years.” He grimaced. “The last time they did, they messed it up a little—but you should not worry about that. Accept my help and you won’t have to take the risk.” He smiled. “Are we going to work together?”

She hesitated. Doubts ran through her mind.

Seeing her expression, he asked: “Have you decided to stay, then?”