Warlock Read Free Page A

society and was answerable principally to Moragan for her conduct. Safely knit into the cultural fabric, Marika felt more comfortable teaching herself by exploring and observing.
    Marika liked little of what she did learn.
    Within the cloister the least of workers lived well. Outside, in the city, meth lived in abject want, suffering through brief lives of hunger, disease, and backbreaking labor. Everyone and everything in Maksche belonged to the Reugge silth Community, to the tradermale brotherhood calling itself the Brown Paw Bond, or to the two in concert. The Brown Paw Bond maintained its holdings by Reugge license, under complicated and extended lease arrangements. Residents of Maksche who were neither tradermale nor silth were bound to their professions or land for life.
    Marika was bewildered. The Reugge possessed meth as though they were domestic animals? She interrogated Moragan. The teacher just looked at her strangely, evidently unable to comprehend the point of her questions.
    “Grauel,” Marika said one evening, “have you figured this place out? Do you understand it at all? That old carque Moragan cannot or will not explain anything so it makes any sense.”
    “Take care with her, Marika. She is more than she seems.”
    “She is as All-touched as my granddam was.”
    “She may be senile and mad, but she is not harmless. Perhaps the more dangerous for it. It is whispered that she was not set to teach you but to study you. It is also whispered that she was once very important in the order, and that she still has the favor of some who are very high up. Fear her, Marika.”
    “I should fear someone I could break?”
    “As strength goes? This is not the upper Ponath, Marika. It is not the strength of the arm that counts. It is the strength of the alliances one forms.”
    Marika made a sound of derision. Grauel ignored her.
    “Marika, suppose that some of them hope you try your strength. Suppose some of them want to prove something to themselves.”
    “What?”
    “Our ears are sharp from many years of hunting the forests of the upper Ponath. When we go among the huntresses of this place — and sorrier huntresses you will never see — we sometimes overhear whispers never meant for our ears. They talk about us and they talk about you and they talk about the thinking of those around Senior Zertan. In a way, you are on trial. They suspect — maybe even know — about Gorry.”
    “Gorry? What about Gorry?”
    “Something happened to Gorry in the final hours of the siege. There was much speculation, overheard by everyone. We said nothing to anyone about that, but we are not the only survivors brought out of the ruins of Akard.”
    Marika’s heart fluttered as she thought of her one-time instructress. But she felt no remorse. Gorry had deserved the torment she had suffered, and more. All Marika felt was a heightened apprehension about being ignored. It had not occurred to her that it was that sort of deliberateness. She would have to be careful. She was in no position of strength.
    Grauel watched expectantly while Marika wrapped her mind around the implications.
    “Why are you looking at me that way?”
    “I thought you might have some regrets.”
    “Why?”
    “She was —”
    “She was a carque of an old nuisance, Grauel. She would have done it to me if she could have. She tried often enough. She got what she asked for. I do not want to hear her mentioned again.”
    “As you wish, mistress.”
    “Have you found Braydic yet?”
    “She was assigned to the communications center here, as you might expect. Students are not permitted entry there. And technicians are not allowed out.”
    “Why not?”
    “I do not know. This is a different world. We are still feeling our way. They never tell you what is permitted, only what is not.”
    Marika realized that Grauel was upset with her. When Grauel was distressed, she insisted on using the formal mode of speech. But Marika had given up trying to interpret