The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,157
it falling into other hands.”
Dannyl took the ring. “It’s Sonea’s?”
“Yes.” A movement caught their attention. Dust rose from the pile of rocks behind them. Lorkin’s gaze flickered to them, and he stood up. “I have to go.”
At the movement, Unh turned to look at them. Once more Dannyl remembered the cave full of gemstones.
“My friend here – he’s from the Duna tribes, by the way – told me something interesting the other day. He said that his people have knowledge of how to make gemstones like those in the Cavern of Ultimate Punishment.”
Lorkin’s eyes brightened with interest.
“He also said,” Dannyl continued. “That the Traitors stole that knowledge from his people. You might want to keep that in mind. Your new friends may not be without a few nasty traits.”
The young magician smiled. “Who is? But I will keep that in mind. It is interesting information. Very interesting.” His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he looked at Dannyl and grasped his upper arm. “Goodbye, Ambassador. I hope your new assistant is more useful than I’ve proven to be.”
Dannyl returned the gesture. Then he jumped as sound returned. Lorkin moved away, pausing to say something to the tribesman as he passed. Dannyl rose and moved to Unh’s side and they watched the lone magician stride away.
“What did he say to you?” Dannyl asked when Lorkin finally moved out of sight.
“He said, ‘You’re the only one in danger’,” Unh replied. “He means the Traitors fear I may lead you to their city.”
“Not without the help of a magician, I suspect.”
The tribesman looked at him and smiled. “No.”
“So we’d better get you out of here sooner rather than later. How about we levitate over that pile of rocks and see if any of our Sachakan companions have dug themselves out yet?”
“Is a good idea,” the tribesman agreed.
When she had finally left Skellin, Sonea had simultaneously wanted to scream in frustration and cheer in relief.
By now, not only could Dannyl have found Lorkin, she’d thought, but there could have been a battle, funerals for the dead arranged, and a victory celebration held. Osen must have progressed from wondering where I am to discovering I haven’t been at the hospice all night to ordering Kallen to start strengthening himself ready to hunt me down.
And all for nothing. Well, not nothing. They had found one rogue. Just not the one they were looking for.
But at least she was away from Skellin, she’d reasoned, and headed back to the Guild at last. Then something happened that negated all her desire to rush back for news. She’d heard Lorkin’s voice in her mind. And felt hints at what he’d been feeling.
It had been very enlightening.
She’d forgotten how effective a blood ring could be at conveying the mind of the wearer. In a short time she had not only learned that Lorkin was alive, but that he did not fear for his life and was full of hope. Though he was not entirely certain how the people he was with would treat him, in general he respected them and believed they were benevolent. He was smitten with the woman who had rescued him, but the obligation he felt toward her was not entirely based on lust or fondness.
Ah, Lorkin. Why does there always have to be a woman involved?
Lorkin was as safe as she could hope, considering the situation. She’d rather he was home, and she did not like the possibility these Traitors would not let him leave their city, but he had decided to risk that and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
At least he’s a long way from the people who tried to kill him.
She’d got into the cart feeling much better. But before they had travelled far, Forlie had begun to groan and hold her head and stomach. A quick check told Sonea the woman was particularly susceptible to carriage sickness, so they had been forced to tell the driver to slow down.
She wondered if Lorkin had met Dannyl yet. And if Osen was now looking for her, to tell her the good news.
The cart slowed even further. Outside, someone was shouting, and the driver began shouting back. Sonea exchanged a frown with Regin as the vehicle stopped. Forlie began to whimper with fear.
They all jumped as someone began hammering on the side of the cart.
“Black Magician Sonea,” someone called. A young woman, Sonea guessed. “You have to come out. You’ve got the wrong woman.”