The Melaki Chronicle by William Thrash Page A

follows.
    She shook her head. “I thought to persuade you--”
    “Your desire to see me succeed is a sentiment and gesture I
will not forget.” He stepped forward and gave her a one-arm hug. She smelled
good and her frame was soft and frail in his arms.
    She stiffened in shock.
    He ignored it and stepped back. “I will not return.”
    He moved around her and she watched him go.
    Fear followed him.
    With every step he took, he expected the Rukha and wizard's
area to erupt in action calling for his seizure.
    “Are you going for testing?” Agak said.
    He looked back at the wizard of the third ward. “No, I am
not.”
    An eyebrow twitched on the wizard's face and a small quirk
of one side of his mouth said he was pleased Melaki would not attain the final
and most coveted rank in less time it took Agak to reach the first ward.
    Melaki was sure he was the object of jeers and scorn. He had
heard some of them. Some claimed he was the worst wizard ever, for having taken
almost three years to attain the first ward and failing six times. All passed
within a year and a half and none ever failed more than twice. Some claimed he
could be positioned among the most powerful. Some laughed at his difficulties
with healing – considered the easiest of wards. Some thought he was too strong.
Others too weak. He wanted no more of it.
    He growled at Agak's leer.
    The sudden intensity of Melaki's frustration wiped the look
from the lower wizard's face in an instant. Agak gulped.
    But Melaki was not itching for a fight, he was itching for
escape. He turned and stalked off.
    Agak called to him. “I will be informing the headmistress of
your refusal--”
    Melaki turned his head, still walking. “Silence, dog.”
    Agak could inform the headmistress all he wanted; Melaki did
not care.
    “There you are,” Talin said.
    He had about collided with the tenth ward wizard again, as
he had just a week before when wearing initiate's robes.
    “Yes, here I am.”
    “The boat leaves tomorrow morning--”
    “I am aware. I am leaving here, though.”
    “Not testing for the tenth ward?” His voice was curious.
    “No. I refuse. It is my choice.”
    Talin nodded, appearing happier.
    Swine. You just do not want competition. Pathetic.
    “Well, then. I shall see you onboard tomorrow.” The smile
was satisfied and arrogant.
    At least he will not give me trouble.
    But the fear hounded him all the way out the gates.
Initiates jeered him. Wizards in the lower wards scorned him. Those of the
tenth ward queried him and met his refusal with confusion.
    Being outside the gate of the Rukha gave him some relief.
Some. He would likely not feel relief until he was on the boat to the
Northlands.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Melaki boarded the sleek runner in the darkness of night
just before the brightening of morning. He held aloft a blue ball of light and
walked across the plank.
    The ship was typical of Altanlean passage. It could hold a
dozen passengers with horses and cargo. Its tall, triangular sail speared up
into the sky fifteen paces to its tip.
    Other passengers were boarding, too.
    The tough sailor at the plank nodded at the names, recalling
from memory. No one who was not on the First Charter tried to get on.
    He was shown to his bunk. It certainly could not be called a
room. But on a boat, space was at a premium. The door to his room was about as
wide as his shoulders and the room itself only twice as wide as the door. The
bunk was so slim that his arm would dangle off if he laid flat. A stool and a
small shelf for writing were the only other furnishings. Above his bunk was a
shelf. He stored his packs up there.
    Talin leaned in. “I will be harnessing weather first. You
can watch.” He said it as if Melaki still needed instruction.
    He grunted. Although he did not want to give Talin the
satisfaction of his presence on the deck, he did not want to stay cooped into
this room the whole voyage.
    The upper deck was a slow bustle of preparation. The crew
knew their