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    It was late when the knock came. Looking up from her desk, Sonea regarded the door of her room. Was it her servant bringing a late cup of hot raka? She lifted a hand, then stopped. Lord Yikmo, the Warrior who had trained her in preparation for the Challenge, always said a magician should avoid the habit of gesturing when using magic—it gave away a magician’s intent. Hands still, she now willed the door to open. Takan stood in the corridor beyond.
    “My Lady,” he said. “The High Lord requests your presence in the library.”
    She stared at him and felt her blood slowly turn cold. What did Akkarin want with her at this time of night?
    Takan gazed at Sonea and waited.
    Pushing her chair back, she rose and approached the doorway. As Sonea entered the corridor, Takan started toward the library. When she reached the door, she peered through.
    A large desk stood at one side. The walls were covered in bookcases. Two large chairs and a small table were arranged at the center. Akkarin was sitting in one of the chairs. As she bowed, he gestured to the other, where a small book lay.
    “This book is for you to read,” he said. “It will help you with your studies on the construction of buildings with magic.”
    Sonea entered the room and approached the chair. The book was small, bound in leather and very worn. She picked it up and opened it. The pages were filled with faded handwriting. She read the first few lines and drew in a quick breath. It was the diary of Lord Coren, the architect who had designed most of the Guild buildings, and who had discovered how to shape stone with magic.
    “I don’t think I need to tell you how valuable that book is,” Akkarin said quietly. “It is rare and irreplaceable and,” his voice deepened, “is not to leave this room.”
    Sonea looked at him and nodded. His expression was serious, and his dark eyes bore into hers.
    “You will not speak of it to anyone,” he added softly. “Only a few people know it exists, and I would prefer it stayed that way.”
    She took a step away as he pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the door. As he moved into the corridor she found that Takan was watching her with uncustomary directness, as if he was assessing her closely. She met his eyes. He nodded, as if to himself, then turned away. Two sets of footsteps faded into the distance. She looked down at the book in her hands.
    Sitting down, she opened the cover and began to read:
    I am Coren of Emarin, House Velan, and this is to be a record of my work and discoveries.
    I am not one of those who writes an account of himself out of pride or habit or any need for others to know his life. There has been little in my past that I could not discuss with my friends or my sister. Today, however, I discovered a need to transcribe my thoughts to paper. I have encountered something that I must keep a solemn secret, yet at the same time I feel an urge to tell of it that cannot be denied.
    Sonea looked to the top of the page and noted the date. She realized from her recent studies that at the time of writing this diary Lord Coren had been young, restless and in disfavor with his elders for drinking excessively and designing strange, impractical buildings.
    I had the chest brought to my rooms today. It took some time to open it. I disengaged the magical locks easily enough, but the lid had rusted shut. I didn’t want to risk damaging anything inside, so I took great care. When I finally had it open I was both disappointed and pleased. It was filled with boxes, so my first sight of the contents was very exciting. But as I opened each box I found only books inside. When I opened the last box I was greatly disappointed. I had found no buried treasure. Just books.
    From what I have seen they are all records of some sort. I have been reading late into the night and much puzzles me. Tomorrow I will read some more.
    Sonea smiled as she pictured the young magician locked away in his room reading. His