It was the beginning of a workable plan. As Rielle continued to eat, she looked for weaknesses or ways it might backfire.
Dahli might have left someone watching every world Lejihk’s family had visited, anticipating that she would try to find them that way. She would have to search minds wherever she went. And if a watcher did see her …? Could she deal with a hunter or enemy without actually killing them? Leaving them in a dead world was one possibility, though she was reluctant to even do that. However, if she only wanted to delay them delivering a message to Dahli, she could leave them in a void large enough it would take several days for them to travel out of it.
When she was too full to eat another mouthful, she apologised to Tarran for her short visit, thanked him for the food and bade him farewell as affectionately as she would have before if she’d known she’d been about to become Qall’s guardian.
“Give Tyen my best wishes,” she said to him as they reached the courtyard. He nodded, then made a shooing gesture.
“Go on. I know you’re in a hurry. Don’t let this old man hold you up any longer.”
She smiled and pushed away from the world. Though the sooner she left this part of the worlds the better, she travelled slowly, making her way towards the world the Travellers had settled in by a winding, indirect route. Many of the arrival places she passed through were surrounded by signs of recent fighting. Once, she held off from arriving completely when it was clear that a battle was underway; instead she skimmed away from the conflict. Another time she arrived in a peaceful, bustling town only to find the world’s magic was nearly completely depleted, her habit of carrying enough magic to leave a world again saving her from becoming stranded.
At last she approached the world where she had met up with Lejihk’s family. She skimmed slowly towards the former camp; then, when close, she drew further from the world and travelled in almost total whiteness. Soon she detected an old, faint path leading away from the world. Following it until the next started to come into sight, she broke away from it and continued parallel to it.
That put her in a field outside a village. Skimming to a copse of trees, she arrived and began searching minds. It was early evening and most of the locals were absorbed in tasks like cooking and eating, while a few were asleep. Eventually a couple said goodnight to their neighbours and, as they donned coats for the walk home, the husband recalled how, three-quarters of a cycle ago, the famed Travellers had driven their carts through the village and sold them the coats.
The traders had continued north. Rielle stilled the air below her and levitated up into the sky, following roads and searching minds in the villages she passed over. The people who had bought items from the Travellers thought themselves lucky because the family wasn’t intending to visit this world again.
Everywhere Rielle went, she searched but found no sorcerer keeping watch for Dahli. After Rielle found no more memories of the Travellers’ visit, she began looking for paths into the place between. When she found one, old and faint, she followed it to the next world. There she sought and found more memories of the family’s passing.
In this way or similar, she slowly tracked the path of Lejihk’s family. After eleven worlds, she finally found one in which they’d bought goods to sell, but still with no arrangement to return in future. They didn’t trade in the next world, or the one after, but in the third she learned, after waiting for the locals to wake up, that a permanent arrangement had been discussed but not made.
Yet in the next few worlds, no trade had been made or proposed. She realised that it was likely they would avoid making permanent arrangements until they’d travelled the circuit a few times. If that was right, she would have to abandon her plan and find another way to get Qall’s message to Givari.
In the next world, Rielle found a watcher.
He was living across the road from a merchant Lejihk’s family had traded with. Rielle had stopped in the shadows of a storeroom, her cloak turned shabby side out.
… might never come here, the man was thinking. But this place is comfortable enough and the food is good. Not as nice as the place Dahli is staying in though.
An image of a room flashed into the watcher’s mind. Tiles covered the floor. Steam rose from a deep, rectangular pool. Scantily-clad servants provided anything a customer needed. The thought of that stirred lust and jealousy in the man, but he quickly turned his mind away from picturing anything in more detail. What if Dahli found him too caught up in pleasure to watch the locals’ minds.
Dahli, Rielle thought. From the impression she’d gained, he was only a few worlds away. If I could get close enough to read his mind without alerting him to my presence, I might learn what his precise plans are—and find a weakness. She might not find a way to prevent him blackmailing Qall—or her—but she could discover something else she could use against him.
Getting close enough to Dahli to read his mind was risky, however. She observed the watcher, gathering information. Dahli was in Yolin, a town in a nearby world famous for its natural springs and heated waters. When she had a clear picture of the location, she took a circuitous route through the local worlds and arrived at a distance to Yolin. She changed her appearance further, shortening her nose and narrowing her mouth. Joining a steady stream of people walking to the town, many of them sick and hoping the waters would cure them, half of one of the long, local days passed before she crested a rise and looked down on the town.
It nestled in a shallow valley, surrounded by lush vegetation and shrouded in steam. The upper slopes were covered in terraced fields. Perching on the wall of one of these as if to rest, she read the character of the place, taking information from the minds of the inhabitants.
Finding Dahli among the thousands was easier than she’d hoped. Establishments with a natural supply of water made greater profits than those who had to buy it from them. Few new sources had been found in recent times, but recently an otherworlder sorcerer had created a spring in exchange for free use of a bathhouse. Searching that establishment, a rush of cold set her skin prickling as she found the mind she sought.
Dahli was eating a meal while receiving a messenger’s report. None of his watchers had noticed her, she was relieved to learn.
She’s smart, Dahli was thinking. She’s not going to come back. I’m wasting my time. The man’s dark mood lightened hers, but she could see his determination to keep waiting. The sighting of the boy was the only lead he had after more than five cycles since Valhan’s death. What else is there to do while Tyen works? Dahli asked himself.
Rielle’s heart stopped. Tyen?
Was he lying when he said he needed to work alone with no distractions? Dahli wondered. What would he gain from that? While he couldn’t escape the suspicion that Tyen was delaying, he couldn’t see a good reason for it. Except, perhaps, to use the information I gave him to restore the woman in the book before resurrecting Valhan.
Rielle stood frozen, unable to look away from Dahli’s mind.
I’ve seen no sign he has though, Dahli reminded himself. I’ll keep visiting, no matter what he says. I must keep the pressure on him. I’ll go in a few days. He mentally traced the path from this world to the one Tyen was working in, considering how he would avoid a few worlds that had exploded into war recently. But if he sees my memories of the devastation there, it will emphasise the urgency. Though I doubt it’ll convince him to stop insisting that we don’t use a living vessel …
Breath caught in Rielle’s throat. Tyen was not trying to find a way to deal with the mechanical weapons. He was seeking a way to resurrect Valhan!
Why would he? Had Dahli blackmailed him? She saw no thought of it in the man’s mind. As far as Dahli was concerned, Tyen was partly doing this in exchange for the knowledge of how to resurrect Vella, partly in order to save the worlds.
Dahli had finished eating. At least I’ve finally convinced him that this is the only way to prevent the worlds’ self-destruction, he thought.
Rielle hissed out a
breath as her frustration increased. Didn’t we agree that Valhan wasn’t the solution to the worlds’ troubles? That they didn’t need one all-powerful leader? That they would sort themselves out in time? Or had she assumed agreement from his lack of arguments against her opinion?
She couldn’t remember. She was too angry. Then she gasped as Dahli’s thoughts revealed more.
… Valhan warned me that Tyen must feel he has chosen the path of least harm. Tyen only continued to spy on the rebels in order to keep them alive longer—not realising this was what Valhan wanted. Dahli smiled, but his satisfaction at the success of the Raen’s plan quickly withered away. Ultimately it failed. Valhan misjudged Rielle. She did not return him to me. Dahli ran his hands through his hair, fighting a familiar despair.
Seeing the grief within her former mentor, Rielle’s anger began to wane. Though she should not sympathise with the man who wanted to kill Qall, she could not help it. He has lost someone he loved. A man he adored and served despite receiving no love in return.
It must have been unbearable, but there had been no escape. Valhan had not allowed strong sorcerers to live who weren’t under his control. Dahli had no choice but to stay and serve him. What sort of man would Dahli have been if he’d been free to leave and seek a person who could return his love?
Knowing that Valhan could not have been blind to his most loyal servant’s pain and longing only made Rielle hate him more.
And she could see how much Dahli hated her.
And yet, I don’t hate him. I think I would if he harmed Qall or the Travellers, though.
Tyen, however …
She scowled. She had assumed that, as long as Dahli never located her and Qall, everyone would be safe and no chance of the Raen returning remained. But nobody would be safe if Tyen succeeded in resurrecting Valhan. The Raen had allowed the Travellers to trade between worlds, but would he revoke that favour when he learned that they had actively worked against his return? If Valhan had believed he must eventually kill Rielle because she was too close to him in strength, he would not tolerate Qall’s existence either.
Tyen, having resurrected him, would be spared. Had Dahli promised as much? She looked into the man’s mind again.
Either way, I have no choice but to trust Tyen. Once he manages to resurrect a test subject, he’ll have all the knowledge he needs to give Vella a body. If he breaks our agreement, then I can do nothing, but at least I’ve not had to risk trusting him with Valhan’s hand. To ensure he keeps his promise, I will have to make sure he keeps seeing the increasing chaos in the worlds …
The hand. Valhan’s hand. Rielle drew in a deep breath. Qall was only one ingredient in the recipe for a resurrection, and if Tyen was working on producing another vessel for Valhan’s mind, then he wasn’t vital. While the hand existed, the Raen could return.
If it didn’t exist, Valhan could never come back.
It was Dahli’s weakness. It must be destroyed. Her heart skipped a beat. She looked into Dahli’s mind again, hoping that he would continue to think of it and betray its location. All she discovered was that he had hidden it and blocked his memory of its location. He would not unblock that memory until Tyen had proven himself and had a vessel ready to imprint.
She couldn’t wait around until then. Qall needed protecting and training.
But she knew of someone who could wait and watch, and strike when the moment was right. Someone who would be very interested to know what the Spy had done, and planned to do. Someone who could deliver Qall’s message.
She pushed out of the world and went in search of Baluka.
PART THREE
TYEN
CHAPTER 11
By now I ought to be used to regretting making alliances and ending up on the wrong side, Tyen mused. Looking down on the ruins of Glaemar’s palace, he watched the minds of both conqueror and conquered. The gentle Doumians, unused to subjugating others, feared those they now ruled and so kept order with an edge of wary cruelty. The Muraians, familiar with an unfair social hierarchy, were adapting to their circumstances with a remarkable acceptance.
He’d checked on his former employees before coming here. Fortunately, none of them had suffered for their association with him. Some had set themselves up as makers of magic-driven wheels, which he was happy to see. They’d told him the Claymars were insisting no acknowledgement be made of the source of the invention, claiming instead that it had been a rediscovered secret of a long-dead potter, but assured him they were recording the truth in other ways.
What did I do to the Claymars to deserve that? he wondered. Was negotiating peace with Murai on their behalf, even when they never intended to honour any agreement, really such a great crime?
At last, he found the mind he sought. Claymar Fursa now lived in one of the grander Glaemar homes, taken from one of the merchants who had attacked Alba’s market. Tyen smiled. Despite the wrong the Claymars had done to him, he could not help enjoying a little satisfaction at that.
He pushed out of the world a little and skimmed down to the city, through walls and into the passageway Fursa was striding down. She jolted to a stop, catching sight of his form, and backed away as he arrived.
“It wasn’t my idea,” she blurted out.
He nodded as he read from her mind the names of the Claymars who had hatched and proposed the plan to invade Murai. But I agreed with them, she thought. I guess that’s just as bad.
It was, but Tyen wasn’t here for revenge, or to punish anyone. “I was honest and did everything for the benefit of Doum,” he said. “In return you deceived me and robbed me of my home. So why pretend the wheels are a Doumian invention?”
Her lips pressed tightly together, but her mind answered clearly.
So nobody would have cause to respect you, she thought. You were meant to have failed. We told the people that the Emperor did not sign the treaty, and it was your fault. She shivered, knowing that he was reading these thoughts but unable to stop them. What now? Will he punish me? Will he kill all of us?
“Are you enjoying your new role in Murai?” he asked.
She stared at him, wondering at the change of subject. As she considered the question, the self-loathing and homesickness that assailed her when she first woke up every day returned.
He shook his head. “I don’t need to punish you.”
Relief was etched in deep lines on her face. Lines he didn’t recall seeing when they’d last met. He pushed out of the world, and as she faded from sight he wondered if being conquered by the Doumians would bring improvements to Murai. The Doumian system of electing rulers and holding artisans in greater esteem might create a fairer society. But if you are willing to kill and dominate others to impose such changes, how do you convince those others not to kill and dominate if you give them back their freedom?
What do you think, Vella?
“Creating laws is the most common way humans maintain a peaceful and fair society,” she replied, her voice clear in his mind. “A mix of incentive and punishment encourages the following of those laws. I’ve never encountered or heard of a society that was able to maintain them on incentive alone, though some successfully restrict their punishments to social, non-violent ones.”
Doum was one of those, Tyen said, but it took so little to change it. I must admit, I’m relieved that I can’t return. I’d have to try persuading the Claymars away from violence, or else sit back and watch everything change for the worse.
“You have more important tasks now.”
He reached the next world and skimmed to the arrival place. It was a raised wooden platform inside a hall, a painted design flaking away beneath his feet. He pushed on.
Yes. Challenges against which the problems of Murai and Doum are commonplace. Keeping an eye on Dahli and stopping him pursuing Rielle, resurrecting the Raen, destroying all the weaponised insectoids, and restoring you.
“Restoring my body is not important,” she reminded him. “At least not to the worlds.”
It is
to me. I made a promise. While I won’t kill to do it, I can try to find another way.
“The price for doing so is bringing back the Raen. Is it too high?”
I don’t know, he admitted. Restoring you is not the only reason I am doing it, however. Helping Rielle and being able to warn others that he is about to return is more important.
“Rielle is gone. She does not need you to stop Dahli chasing her.”
The next world was in darkness, the stars illuminating crystalline stones thrusting up from the ground. The area he arrived on had been levelled and a narrow road led away. He pushed on.
Yes, but Baluka will also need to know. The worlds will need to know and prepare.
“How certain are you that Dahli could resurrect the Raen without your help?”
Not completely. He is, though. Given time—and he has plenty since he is ageless—he will find someone strong enough and willing to help him. I can’t take that risk. As long as he has Valhan’s hand, there is always that danger.
“The hand may be deteriorating, according to Dahli.”
Yes. But Dahli blocked his memory of how quickly, and that makes me distrust his claim. Why hide that piece of information?
“So that you don’t waste time or delay. So you are forced to make decisions without spending time in deliberation.”
Did I decide too quickly?
“I don’t know enough to judge.”
Short, stumpy trees surrounded him in the next world. In contrast, the men and women guarding the arrival place were tall and thin. He skimmed away.
Working with Dahli bothers me but at the same time his arguments have merit, he admitted. The Restorers aren’t as effective as Valhan was at maintaining order. They didn’t even know about the world of the meteors, and they have no idea how to save it. If Dahli believed I was the only one who could ever help him, I might have still agreed to try resurrecting the Raen eventually.
“And yet you don’t want to.”