“Oh, he has returned,” a high voice said. “This is no rumour.”
All froze. Even those who had continued eating through the ruckus stilled, caught in the act of chewing. Heads turned to a thin, middle-aged woman sitting at one corner of the table. Demble taught the use of magic in art and music, Tyen recalled, and had shown him a method of shaping air to amplify noise. Her manner was reserved among the other teachers, but when she spoke it was often to cut to the heart of a matter.
He hadn’t seen her in a while, he realised.
“I returned today from my home world. During my visit Queen Hevinna requested I entertain her. The court was buzzing with the news that the Raen had been there a few days before. I broke the law against mind reading to learn if it was true, because I had to be sure.” To Tyen’s surprise, tears filled her eyes. “It is true. The Raen has returned. My queen says I must return to my family but…” She shook her head. “This is my home.”
A long silence followed. Tyen saw dismay on all faces. Even Kik did not look pleased.
“Will the school close?” someone asked.
Heads now turned towards Tarren and Corl, the oldest of the teachers. The two men exchanged glances.
“That’s up to the Heads to decide,” Corl said, his tone doubtful.
Ame huffed. “They can’t expect us to stay if we don’t want to. We’re all sorcerers. We’ve broken the Raen’s laws against teaching magic.”
“He does not forbid teaching magic,” Kik corrected. “He forbids the formation of schools, travelling between worlds without permission, and teaching others how to travel between worlds.”
“Everyone knows he kills sorcerers to prevent them uniting against him,” someone said.
“Nonsense! If he had there’d be no allies.”
“Who live only because they serve him!”
“If we return to our home worlds and stay put we will be safe enough,” another voice injected.
“How do we go home when travel between worlds is forbidden?” someone wondered.
“I suppose you’ll offer to serve him,” Ame said, glaring at Kik.
He shrugged. “I’d be honoured, but I doubt I’d be useful to one such as him.”
Voices rose in outrage. Tyen heard Tarren draw in a breath. “Quiet!” he called, pointing at a servant standing by the door. “Let the messenger speak.”
Others repeated the words until the noise lessened enough for the messenger to make himself heard. He looked around nervously and cleared his throat.
“The Heads have summoned all to attend a meeting tonight, an hour after dinner,” the man said.
A short silence followed his exit, then someone whispered. “Well, that confirms it. They’re closing the school.”
“No it doesn’t,” another disagreed. “They might want to wait and…”
“This will be the end of Liftre,” Tarren murmured as the teachers began to argue again. “Even if the Heads decide to stay put and see what happens, most will abandon it out of fear or respect for the Raen’s laws. Is was only his absence that made the creation of Liftre possible.”
Tyen stared at him in disbelief. “Close the school? Just like that?”
The old man nodded and resumed eating.
“Who is this Raen?”
“The ruler of worlds.” Tarren glanced at Tyen. “Could you go to the meeting and tell me what happens?
Tyen nodded. The room was quiet now. Many had resumed eating. Some looked pleased, some worried. A few regarded their plates as if suddenly nauseated by what they saw. Tyen picked up his utensils, though his appetite was not what it had been, and began his meal. The prospect of Liftre closing sent a shiver of apprehension through him, and he realised he had taken its safety and the companionship of fellow sorcerers for granted. He wanted it–perhaps needed it–more than he’d believed.
CHAPTER 2
Liftre’s corridors hadn’t been so crowded and noisy since the last founding anniversary celebrations. Clusters of teachers, students and servants formed suddenly and broke up as quickly, slowing traffic only briefly. While most conversations were held in low voices, shouts cut over them as people sought and found friends and relatives.
Tyen saw people appear and disappear. Some he recognised as parents of students, no doubt come to collect their offspring. Some were teachers. A few held items he suspected belonged to the school, and he wondered if they’d bothered to ask for permission to take them.
One of the younger teachers nodded to Tyen and, as he was about to pass, slowed.
“Are you going to the meeting?”
Tyen nodded. “Are you?”
“No.” The young man stopped. His attention kept shifting, drawn to every movement in the corridor. “The Heads will either tell us to leave, or wait, or fight. Fighting would be suicide, waiting might be fatal if the Raen decides to make an example of us, and the sooner we leave the better chance we’ll reach safety.” He frowned. “Have you got somewhere to go? Your home is a dead world, isn’t it?”