Free The Unmage by Jane Glatt

that, been prepared for it. Santos had trusted his student, too much as it turned out, but he had trusted him.
     
    “I’M TELLING YOU that it’s not natural.”
    “So you keep saying,” Arabella said. She poured more tea into Rorik’s cup and frowned when he closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his temple.
    “The Healer could not help,” Rorik said. He opened his eyes and stared down at his cup.
    “Then try another Healer,” Arabella said. “Surely there’s at least one who is an expert at getting rid of headaches.”
    “Yes, the one I went to.” Rorik looked up and met her eyes, and Arabella shrank from the pain she saw there. “She couldn’t help because it’s not natural.”
    “There’s no proof.”
    “Not that you would believe,” Rorik said. “But Timo is my Apprentice.”
    “Stop it!” Arabella said. “Don’t you dare involve my son.”
    “He saw it,” Rorik mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. “I didn’t have to ask—he saw it, and it startled him. Scared him, even. Inigo cursed me.”
    “Shhh, quiet,” Arabella said. “You don’t know that. And you can’t say things like that here. This room isn’t shielded.”
    “Who else could it be?” Rorik asked. “Inigo has always wanted more than the council—it seems he’s tired of waiting.”
    Arabella shook her head and sipped her tea. If Inigo wanted to be elevated from council he would target her—not Rorik. She set her cup into its saucer. Rorik was weak; Inigo knew that. With the right incentive, Rorik could be persuaded to select Inigo as Secundus if her position were to become . . . vacant. She, on the other hand, would never choose Inigo for anything. He knew that too.
    “I fail to see how targeting you would benefit Inigo,” she said.
    “Make sure you are shielded,” Rorik said. “And Timo . . .”
    “What about my son?”
    “We should warn him,” Rorik said. “Or better yet send him away. He’s in danger.”
    “Send him where?” She met Rorik’s gaze.
    “There’s one place where he’d be safe,” Rorik said. “One place we’ve never been able to attack successfully.”
    “What? No! I will not send him there,” Arabella said. She couldn’t believe Rorik was even suggesting it—not after all these years of trying to destroy them. “I forbid you to say anything to him. The boy belongs here—as my Journeyman—not on some pile of rocks with his witch of a sister and the mad mage.”
    “They can keep him safe,” Rorik said. “They may be the only ones who can.”
    Arabella followed his gaze to his hands. To her horror they were trembling. She looked up and studied Rorik’s face. She’d always thought of him as a Mage in his prime but now he looked broken and old. Perhaps he was seriously ill, too far gone for the Healers to help.
    She leaned back in her chair, worried. She’d assumed Rorik would live for many years yet, that there was plenty of time for Timo to be her Journeyman and then become a full Mage. It would only make sense that she would appoint him as Secundus when she became Primus, even though he was her son.
    But if Rorik died now . . . Who could she trust? She closed her eyes and breathed out. There was no one. Inigo controlled the council. There may be a few Mages who weren’t as loyal to Inigo as they professed, but that didn’t mean she could trust them.
    She’d always thought she’d manipulated Rorik into choosing her as Secundus, but she’d be grateful if she had someone as trustworthy as she’d been. Rorik had wondered if he hadn’t made a mistake by not having a Journeyman and perhaps another Apprentice. Now she wondered if she hadn’t made an even bigger one. Inigo hated Timo almost as much as he hated her. She’d been counting on his unmagic to protect them both, but who knew how strong and reliable that was?
    If . . . she looked at Rorik . . . when Rorik died she would have no political allies. Was it too late? There was no one on council she could