he stepped inside, lowered the tray to the floor and backed out again.
The watcher paused to regard Lorkin thoughtfully after he’d relocked the gate. Lorkin waited until the man returned to his
seat before approaching the tray. He picked it up and carried it to the far side of the cell.
The bowl was full of a cold, opaque soup. The goblet contained wine. There were no utensils.
If any of this is poisoned, I won’t know until I try eating it. I’ve never had to Heal away poison before. It’ll use up more
of Tyvara’s power than simply quashing hunger. Should I risk it? Do I need to eat badly enough?
The particles in the soup were settling to the bottom, leaving most of the liquid clear. But the growing sediment was not
forming a flat layer. It clung to something lying at the bottom. Something square and thin. He felt a tingle run down his
spine.
Aware that the watcher was observing his every move, he drew a tiny amount of magic and used it to gently nudge the particles
away from the object. At first the soup clouded at the slightest stirring, but soon it settled allowing him to confirm what
he’d suspected.
The object was a piece of paper.
‘
Boil soup to make safe. Bread good. Wine bad
.’
Beneath was a squiggle. It would have been taken as a flourish or hastily drawn initials by someone else, but Lorkin recognised
it as one of the code signs the Traitors had told him to look for.
They know I’m here
, he thought, his heart lifting in relief andhope.
They’re going to get me out of here
. But even as the thought crossed his mind he knew he could not expect that much. The prison was under the very palace itself
and guarded by Ashaki and the independent, fiercely loyal guard class that was unique to this place.
It was nice to know the Traitors were trying to help him, though. Drawing more magic, he set the soup boiling. That at least
explained to the watcher why he’d been staring at it so intently. He still drank it slowly and paid attention to his body
in case the note was a clever lie. The bread was stale, so he dipped it in the soup to soften it.
He didn’t touch the wine. Would the interrogator, or whoever had poisoned it, wonder how Lorkin had known to avoid it, or
would he assume Lorkin simply didn’t want his senses fogged by wine during the next session?
Not long after he’d finished eating, the slave returned for the tray. Lorkin held it up for the man to take. The slave’s gaze
rose to meet his.
“Lord Dannyl says King Merin wants you to tell them everything,” the man said, his words barely a whisper.
Lorkin nodded to show he understood, and turned away so that the watcher would not see his smile.
As if I’d believe that! They must think I’m stupid, if they think I’d accept such an order from anyone but Dannyl himself.
Even then … I’d have to consider that Dannyl was being blackmailed or threatened
.
Administrator Osen had given Lorkin a code word as well, in case the Sachakans tried something like this. Forcing the smile
from his face, Lorkin leaned back against the wall and waited for the interrogator to arrive and the day’s questioning to
begin.
* * *
The Foodhall was almost vibrating with noise, despite the midday meal finishing some time ago. Lilia resisted the temptation
to roll her eyes at the other novices. The sudden announcement that lessons had been cancelled for the afternoon while the
entire Guild attended a Meet had sent them into a mix of giddy exhilaration at their unexpected freedom and excited speculation
as to the cause of the meeting.
Lilia already knew the reason for it, but nobody was asking her and she had much more important things to worry about. Like
keeping Cery, Gol and Anyi fed and supplied with lamp oil and candles. Lilia had decided Jonna, Sonea’s servant, was the key
to both. She had to find a way to persuade the woman to bring more supplies these things to Sonea’s rooms,
The watcher paused to regard Lorkin thoughtfully after he’d relocked the gate. Lorkin waited until the man returned to his
seat before approaching the tray. He picked it up and carried it to the far side of the cell.
The bowl was full of a cold, opaque soup. The goblet contained wine. There were no utensils.
If any of this is poisoned, I won’t know until I try eating it. I’ve never had to Heal away poison before. It’ll use up more
of Tyvara’s power than simply quashing hunger. Should I risk it? Do I need to eat badly enough?
The particles in the soup were settling to the bottom, leaving most of the liquid clear. But the growing sediment was not
forming a flat layer. It clung to something lying at the bottom. Something square and thin. He felt a tingle run down his
spine.
Aware that the watcher was observing his every move, he drew a tiny amount of magic and used it to gently nudge the particles
away from the object. At first the soup clouded at the slightest stirring, but soon it settled allowing him to confirm what
he’d suspected.
The object was a piece of paper.
‘
Boil soup to make safe. Bread good. Wine bad
.’
Beneath was a squiggle. It would have been taken as a flourish or hastily drawn initials by someone else, but Lorkin recognised
it as one of the code signs the Traitors had told him to look for.
They know I’m here
, he thought, his heart lifting in relief andhope.
They’re going to get me out of here
. But even as the thought crossed his mind he knew he could not expect that much. The prison was under the very palace itself
and guarded by Ashaki and the independent, fiercely loyal guard class that was unique to this place.
It was nice to know the Traitors were trying to help him, though. Drawing more magic, he set the soup boiling. That at least
explained to the watcher why he’d been staring at it so intently. He still drank it slowly and paid attention to his body
in case the note was a clever lie. The bread was stale, so he dipped it in the soup to soften it.
He didn’t touch the wine. Would the interrogator, or whoever had poisoned it, wonder how Lorkin had known to avoid it, or
would he assume Lorkin simply didn’t want his senses fogged by wine during the next session?
Not long after he’d finished eating, the slave returned for the tray. Lorkin held it up for the man to take. The slave’s gaze
rose to meet his.
“Lord Dannyl says King Merin wants you to tell them everything,” the man said, his words barely a whisper.
Lorkin nodded to show he understood, and turned away so that the watcher would not see his smile.
As if I’d believe that! They must think I’m stupid, if they think I’d accept such an order from anyone but Dannyl himself.
Even then … I’d have to consider that Dannyl was being blackmailed or threatened
.
Administrator Osen had given Lorkin a code word as well, in case the Sachakans tried something like this. Forcing the smile
from his face, Lorkin leaned back against the wall and waited for the interrogator to arrive and the day’s questioning to
begin.
* * *
The Foodhall was almost vibrating with noise, despite the midday meal finishing some time ago. Lilia resisted the temptation
to roll her eyes at the other novices. The sudden announcement that lessons had been cancelled for the afternoon while the
entire Guild attended a Meet had sent them into a mix of giddy exhilaration at their unexpected freedom and excited speculation
as to the cause of the meeting.
Lilia already knew the reason for it, but nobody was asking her and she had much more important things to worry about. Like
keeping Cery, Gol and Anyi fed and supplied with lamp oil and candles. Lilia had decided Jonna, Sonea’s servant, was the key
to both. She had to find a way to persuade the woman to bring more supplies these things to Sonea’s rooms,
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