The man he was frowning at was Administrator Osen. Sonea could not see the blue of the Administrator’s robe without remembering his predecessor and feeling a pang of guilt and sadness. Administrator Lorlen had died during the Ichani Invasion. Though Osen was as efficient as Lorlen, he lacked his predecessor’s warmth. And he had never forgiven her for learning black magic and joining Akkarin in exile.
Three other magicians waited patiently together, watching the rest and noting Sonea’s and Rothen’s approach. Sonea had grown to like Lord Peakin, the Head of Alchemists, in the last twenty years. He was open-minded and inventive, and as he’d grown older and settled into his role he’d revealed a wry sense of humour and compassion. Lady Vinara had survived the war and seemed determined to remain as Head of Healers for many years yet, despite advancing old age. Her hair was now completely white and her skin a mass of wrinkles, but her eyes were sharp and alert.
Seeing the Head of Warriors always roused a sour and uneasy feeling in Sonea. Lord Garrel had run the affairs of his discipline without scandal or major failure, and was always stiffly polite around her, but she could not forget that he had allowed and even encouraged his adopted novice, Regin, to torment her during their early years in the University. She might have been able to overlook that history if he wasn’t also linked with the Kyralian Houses’ clearing areas of the slums, involved in ruthless political manipulations, and rumoured to be profiting from dealings with Thieves.
Near to the Heads of Disciplines stood three more magicians. Two were Heads of Studies, Lord Telano and Lord Erayk, and the other was Director Jerrik. The old University Director had barely changed. He was still the same grumpy, sour man, but he was now stooped and wrinkles had made his scowl permanent, even during one of his rare smiles. She had been called to his office more than a few times in recent years, Lorkin being the perpetrator as often as the victim of some novice prank that had gone too far.
Rothen, as Head of Alchemic Studies, was clearly intending to join these three. It had always amused her how the Higher Magicians gravitated to those of the same rank. Yet as she caught sight of a figure striding toward them, wearing the same black robes as her, she felt no desire to do the same.
After the Guild had elected new Higher Magicians to replace those that had been lost in the Ichani Invasion, they had long debated over how to tackle the issue of black magic … and her. They knew they must not lose the knowledge of it again, in case any Sachakans sought once more to overtake Kyralia, but they feared that anyone they allowed to have that knowledge might seek to take control of Kyralia themselves.
It had happened in the past, after all, when Tagin, the Mad Apprentice, had learned black magic and almost destroyed the Guild. The Guild of that time had felt they must ban black magic completely to prevent any individual abusing that power again.
Unfortunately, that had left the Guild and all the Allied Lands vulnerable to attack.
The current Guild’s solution had been to allow only two magicians to know black magic. One could prevent the other from seizing power. Each was charged with monitoring their fellow black magician, watching for any sign of evil ambitions. Servants were regularly questioned, their minds read, for any sign that the magician they served was strengthening himself, or herself.
Sonea had no choice but to agree. It was not as if she could unlearn black magic. She had been introduced to several of the candidates for the position of her watcher, and asked for her opinion. She hadn’t liked or disliked Kallen, whom she had not met before as he had been an Ambassador in Lan before the invasion. But the Higher Magicians had seen something in him that they liked, and she had soon discovered it was his unfaltering dedication to whatever purpose he was given.
