“Thank you. I can take you through to the base if you want to save your strength.”

  “Yes. Please. I can only just gather enough magic to travel through to the base, and that means if Dahli’s world is drained I’ll never be able to leave without help.”

  Tyen took hold of Zeke’s arm again and pushed out of the world.

  The arrival place in the dead world was guarded by Dahli’s followers. They recognised Tyen and Zeke, and did not approach. Tyen only paused long enough for Zeke to catch his breath before moving on. The place between the dead world and Dahli’s base was riddled with new pathways, all leading to the black marble hall. In the safe area between the lamps, Dahli and Qall lounged on seats. Dahli leaned forward, placing his elbows on the arms of his chair, and steepled his fingers as Tyen and Zeke arrived.

  “So, Tyen …” he began, intending to ask where Tyen had been, but then Zeke’s thoughts caught his attention. The young man was all but radiating guilt at having questioned Tyen about Dahli.

  While Dahli was distracted, Tyen looked at Qall. I found your family, he thought. They are well.

  Qall’s face relaxed a little, but as Tyen thought of the girl and her reaction to receiving the braid—and how infatuated she was with the young man from another family—Qall’s shoulders sank and his gaze slid away. A moment later, he straightened, his mouth pressed into a firm line.

  Tyen looked away. He’d assumed that Qall had sent the braid back in order to release the girl from any obligations she might have to him, but perhaps Qall had genuine feelings for her. Perhaps he’d only given the braid back in the hope that she would be in less danger if she wasn’t betrothed to him.

  Zeke, all too conscious of Dahli’s stare, glanced at Tyen and rubbed his hands together.

  “So has anything interesting happened while I was away?”

  “Depends what you consider interesting,” Dahli replied. His gaze shifted to Tyen, then to Qall. “I’ve been occupied in preparations for the Restorers’ attack. Qall has been studying.”

  Knowing that Tyen would be watching his thoughts, Dahli turned to look at something in Qall’s hands. It was the kind of box a bottle of expensive liqueur would be stored in. Reading from Dahli’s mind what it actually contained, Tyen’s body went cold.

  Valhan’s hand.

  It was here, almost within his reach. He thought of all the people who wanted it destroyed. Rielle. Baluka. All of the Restorers. The Travellers. Maybe even Zeke, if he knew its significance. And me, Tyen added. But not straightaway. If he could possess it for just a little while, he might discover everything Valhan knew about resurrection. He might learn how to restore Vella.

  Qall ought to be topmost on the list of people wanting to destroy it, yet here he was, holding the box in his lap as if it were a gift. That Dahli had trusted Qall with the hand was extraordinary. That the young man had not destroyed it was worrying.

  “Qall?” Tyen said.

  The young man looked up. “Dahli and I have come to an agreement: he’ll let me access the information in it in exchange for me resurrecting Valhan.” Qall smiled. “I’d appreciate your help in the latter, of course.”

  “Ah … yes,” was all Tyen could think to say. With great difficulty, he pushed aside his astonishment and gathered his thoughts. He looked at Dahli. “So you no longer need to threaten the Travellers.”

  Dahli’s smile became cold. “Of course I do. There’s plenty of scope for betrayal. If the hand is harmed or I die, the Travellers perish. But if all goes well, nobody needs to die. That’s a much better arrangement.”

  Tyen nodded. If Dahli wants to get rid of me now, he can. He has made me redundant. Has he guessed I was only helping him to help Rielle and Qall? Perhaps he’ll keep me around if he is still willing to honour our deal. “Is the work I have done enough to gain whatever information I need to resurrect Vella?”

  A fleeting expression of smugness came and went as Dahli nodded. “If you stay and help Qall resurrect Valhan, yes. Will you?”

  Tyen looked at Qall and nodded.

  “Even if it means destroying the person who becomes the vessel.”

  “I will leave that choice to Qall.”

  The young man’s eyes widened slightly, then he nodded once. “Thank you,” he said, though to what wasn’t clear. Perhaps only that Tyen had agreed to help.

  Dahli straightened. “In the meantime … both of you come and sit with us. It is time you knew our defence strategy.”

  Tyen and Zeke did so, turning their chairs so they faced Dahli and Qall.

  “As you know,” Dahli began, “the six neighbouring worlds to this one are now dead worlds. Most of my followers are waiting in them, having gathered plenty of magic over the last few days. The Restorers will have to pass through at least one of those worlds to get here and, when they do, our people will try to stop them.”

  “Will we fight with them?” Qall asked.

  “No,” Dahli said firmly. “We will stay here. If the Restorers make it through to us, I will awaken my memory of the trap in this room. All I recall is that it can be very effective, and we will be safe if we remain within the lamps.” Dahli glanced around, but no inkling came to him of the trap’s location or nature.

  He turned to Qall. “When they begin to arrive, you must remove all of the magic in this world.”

  Qall nodded. “So they have nothing to use against us.”

  “Yes.”

  “So what do I use it for?”

  “Our defence, of course.” Dahli turned to Tyen. “As for Tyen … well, I suppose I must ask him what he is willing to do.”

  “I will shield us,” Tyen said holding Dahli’s gaze. “But I will not kill.” He met Qall’s gaze. “Not even for you.” The young man’s eyebrows rose slightly.

  Dahli nodded, unsurprised. “Valhan respected your determination to avoid resorting to violence, Tyen, as do I. You no doubt see that I’ve been unsure how useful you would be in this confrontation. Are you also willing to transport us out if we must flee?”

  “Yes.”

  Qall’s eyebrows had risen even higher, but now they lowered as Dahli turned to him.

  “Rielle is among and possibly leading the Restorers,” Dahli told the young man. “You will have to decide if you are willing to let her die.”

  Tyen’s throat froze and his heart began to race. And yet he felt oddly reassured. Qall wouldn’t kill Rielle. Or would he? He’d known her less than a cycle.

  Qall frowned and nodded, but said nothing.

  “It is not me who forces you to choose,” Dahli reminded him, lowering his voice. “They don’t have to attack us.”

  “I know,” Qall muttered.

  “You did try to protect her by leaving her somewhere safe.”

  Qall’s lips paled as he pressed them together. “I might not be able to … make the final blow.”

  “Then give the magic to me and I will do it.”

  Unable to breathe, Tyen fought to hide the shudder Dahli’s words sent through him. Qall won’t let Dahli do it. Surely, at the last moment …

  “I promise I will not do so unless it is necessary,” Dahli assured the young man. “Remember, she was my student. I liked her. I still respect her.”

  As Dahli began to turn back, Tyen forced his facial muscles to relax, sending the anger and horror and fear deep inside himself, to gather within a hollow in his stomach.

  If Dahli knew that I care for Rielle, would it save her? Tyen wondered. He wouldn’t destroy a means to blackmail me, surely. But Dahli didn’t need to blackmail Tyen now that Qall was willing to resurrect the Raen. I can’t help Rielle without abandoning Qall, and she would not forgive me if I did. Either way, I lose her.

  Dahli was watching Tyen now, his gaze sharp as he searched for clues of Tyen’s mood. “Any questions?”

  “I have one,” Zeke replied.

  Dahli turned to the young inventor, his initial irritation fading as Zeke smiled. “Yes?”

  “How can I help?”
/>
  “You’ll stay here with us,” Dahli replied. Out of danger, he added silently. Maybe I should have tried to do what Qall did to Rielle, and leave him in a dead world for his own protection, but then what would happen to him if I die and can’t retrieve him? “In the beginning, there will be plenty of messages arriving and leaving,” he added, knowing that giving the inventor a purpose would ensure he didn’t find something more dangerous to do. “I’ll need help receiving and sending them.”

  “Message wrangler,” Zeke said, then pursed his lips. “I can do that.” He frowned. “Do you think the Restorers will bring war machines?”

  A small shock went through Tyen, but it quickly faded as he realised how unlikely it was.

  “No. They would be a nuisance, but ultimately not a threat,” Dahli replied, in agreement with Tyen’s thoughts. “Still, if you think of a way they may be effectively used on sorcerers, do tell me. And find a way to counter them.”

  Zeke nodded. “I will.”

  “I have a question,” Tyen said. “Why don’t we just leave? Why must there be a battle?”

  “I doubt we’d get far,” Dahli replied. “The Restorers are watching. They probably let you back in here because they’re not ready for battle, and their leader is convinced your pacifist views mean you are no threat. If we try to leave with all our followers supporting us, they’d engage us in battle anyway. If you, Qall, Zeke and I try to slip away unnoticed and fail, we’ll be outnumbered and lose.” Dahli shrugged, though his expression was grim. “This way, if we lose, our enemy will be in disarray when we flee.”

  “Will we win?” Zeke asked.

  “Yes.” Dahli’s smile was full of confidence. “With two of the strongest sorcerers in the worlds with us, even with one only defending, how can we lose?”

  PART TEN

  RIELLE

  The time for planning and discussion was over. The time to act had arrived at last. While Rielle knew that the attack must be carefully planned in order to give them the best chance of rescuing Qall, she’d spent the last few days gritting her teeth to hold back her impatience.

  Even now, the wait seemed unbearable. They stood within the same meeting room they’d occupied when the Travellers had first joined the effort. A small room for an army, she mused. But that is what magic allows. Thousands of volunteers gather magic for a hundred fighters, so that only those hundred need risk their lives.

  Though Rielle had been generating magic, she’d produced little compared to what would be used in the battle. It was hard to concentrate on drawing when her mind kept turning to the coming fight, whether Qall was still himself or they were about to attack a restored Valhan.

  If Valhan is back, he’ll find the worlds have changed in ways he may not have anticipated. It won’t be so easy to take control. We won’t be the only ones to fight him.

  Volunteers had travelled as far as possible to gather magic so that the worlds around the Restorers’ base weren’t depleted. The generals were also worried about the state of magic in all of the worlds. They’d gathered for a fight, but in the process had discovered all were making the same observations about the worlds in general. The number of dead worlds was increasing, and where wars had been fought, strong worlds were now so weak it would take hundreds of cycles for them to recover. Conflicts were decreasing, not just because they had been resolved by a victory, but as the result of the depletion of magic—whether because that made fighting harder, or because it had become a motivation for seeking peace.

  The cause of magical depletion was twofold. In war, people created less, and when many people died there were fewer creators around to generate magic. While the creating of weapons might increase magic, battles used more than went into their making.

  While magical machines were only a minor threat to sorcerers, they, too, used magic. This was exacerbated by the fact that war machines were usually introduced when a side in a conflict was desperate—and often that coincided with the supply of magic running low, by which time they made little difference to the conclusion. Baluka was hoping that war machines might eventually go out of favour for these reasons.

  Rielle looked up as a few more fighters entered the room, this time a trio of ageless sorcerers representing a set of worlds allied with the Restorers. Baluka greeted them, talking rapidly. He had been going over all the details with everyone who arrived, despite the fact that none of the battle plans had changed.

  He’s nervous, Rielle mused. He channels it into checking that everyone is ready and informed, which makes him appear well prepared and in control of every detail rather than relying on underlings to ferry information back and give orders.

  “He’s a natural leader.”

  Rielle jumped and turned to face the speaker. Lejihk stood beside her, watching his son. His expression was serious, but he radiated pride. Yet she could see in his mind the regret that his observation had stirred. While the worlds had gained by Baluka taking charge of the rebels, the Travellers had lost.

  “Everyone respects him, despite the fact he’s a weaker sorcerer than all of them,” Lejihk added.

  “He would have been a good family head,” she replied.

  He shook his head. “No, he’d have always been restless and unfulfilled, like I was in my youth. My son inherited an even stronger version of that trait.”

  She looked back to see that Baluka had turned to greet more arrivals. “He will tire of being the Restorers’ leader,” she predicted. “He’s halfway there already. Perhaps when he leaves, he’ll start his own trading family.”

  “He won’t.” Lejihk shook his head. “He’ll either exchange his role for the leadership of a smaller cause, or his enemies will force him to disappear entirely.”

  “Perhaps, if we win, he’ll have fewer enemies to hide from,” Ankari said, joining him.

  “Perhaps,” Lejihk echoed, but he did not sound convinced.

  The room was filling quickly. Most, if not all, of the Restorers’ fighters were present now. They made up over half of the army. Another thirty-seven represented allies of the Restorers. Seven were Travellers, the five other than Lejihk and Ankari being the strongest of their people. Nearly half of the fighters were ageless and most of those were newly changed. That made for an army with little experience compared to Dahli’s five hundred cycles. Of Dahli’s followers, at least those that the Restorers knew had joined him, several had lived more than a lifetime.

  In the corner of her eye, Rielle saw someone approaching from her right. She turned to find Ulma drawing near. Since hearing that Rielle had become a Maker again, the ageless Traveller had looked worried, and her anxiety seemed to infect Rielle. Now Ulma smiled with her more usual calmness.

  “Rielle,” she said. “I have thought a great deal about your situation, and I have come to a decision. When you are free to, if you wish to, I will help you search the worlds for information about Maker’s Curse. I know of a few ancient stores of knowledge, both accessible to outsiders and in private collections that we can visit. There must be others I do not know of, perhaps kept in secret by the Raen’s allies.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Rielle replied. She had been relieved to hear that Ulma would be transporting the non-fighting Travellers back to the Gathering after the army had left. Not only would it be a tragic loss to the Travellers if their only ageless sorcerer was to perish, but she liked the woman. The prospect of exploring the worlds with Ulma appealed a great deal. Perhaps they could become friends. That reminded her of poor Timane, left behind. “I’ll first have to retrieve a friend from where we were hiding at the edge of the worlds.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Ulma offered. “We may find a few sources of ancient knowledge out at the edge of the worlds.” She smiled. “It has been a long time since I was free to roam where whim and curiosity took me. Ah, here’s Baluka.”

  Rielle blinked in surprise as she saw him coming towards them: he’d made his way around the room as she had been talking to Lejihk and Ulma. Baluka smiled at
her, his parents and Ulma, looking calm and confident despite the anticipation and fear simmering inside.

  “There’s still no word from the scouts we sent to discover more about Dahli’s base and the world it is in,” Baluka told them. “I have decided we will not wait for them to return.”

  “It will be a risk to enter it then,” Lejihk pointed out.

  “Yes,” Baluka agreed. “We know the air is breathable, at least. We’ll approach slowly and shield the moment we arrive. The three of you, General Hapre and I will travel a little ahead of the army, at the centre and a little higher so we can see all around us. Once the layout of Dahli’s base is in sight we will reposition ourselves so that we are between our fighters and the enemy when we arrive.”

  “And in sight of Qall,” Ulma added. “So that he will hesitate to strike.”

  Seeing Ankari wince, Rielle looked over and shared a look of sympathy with her. She couldn’t imagine Qall striking at anyone either, but who knew what Dahli could force him to do under the threat of harming his foster family? Still, it didn’t make sense for Dahli to force Qall into killing two of the people he was threatening to harm if Qall didn’t obey him.

  Would Qall strike at me? she wondered. She didn’t think so, but then he had stranded her in a dead world. If faced with the choice between protecting her or the people who had raised him, he’d probably choose the latter. Though Rielle had saved him, he didn’t know her as well.

  Baluka turned to her. “It’s unlikely you’ll find time to generate magic during the fighting,” he said. “If you do, make sure sorcerers from our side are ready to take it. We don’t want to give the enemy more power.”

  She resisted the urge to remind him that they’d already discussed this, and nodded.

  “At the end, when we face Dahli,” he continued, “hold back enough power to get us out of there. But if you know that last bit of magic will defeat him, use it. We can always have you create enough to leave later.”

  “Yes, Baluka,” she said. A hint of amusement made it into her voice, despite her best effort.