Successor's Promise

by Trudi Canavan

  Qall’s gaze flickered to Rielle, then away again, and his expression made her wish she could read his mind. Was it disbelief she had seen? Or simply a measuring look?

  At last, the two Travellers stepped away, gesturing as if to say, “He’s all yours.” Rielle slung her pack on, Qall following suit. She stepped forward and held out a hand to him. After a slight hesitation, he took it. His skin was warm and grip firm. She looked for Timane, and the girl stepped in to grab her other offered hand. Timane and Qall linked their free hands.

  Without Rielle having to tell either, they both drew a deep breath. She nodded to Lejihk and Ankari, then pushed out of the world.

  Qall looked around at the camp as it faded. Some of the Travellers had stopped to watch, and a few raised hands to wish him farewell. As all became white, Qall’s expression went blank.

  Rielle had discussed which way to travel with Lejihk and Ulma the night before. This world was just outside of those that the Travellers’ trading routes covered, yet still well within what Valhan had dominated. Ulma had advised her to seek a home where nobody had ever heard of the Raen. That meant travelling a long way—further than Rielle had ever explored. It would take as much as a quarter cycle, perhaps more.

  Once there, we’ll have to find a world with enough magic for me to teach Qall what he needs to know and how to defend ourselves from attack. One with a society where sorcerers aren’t disliked or so rare we attract attention, where people aren’t so different to us in appearance that we won’t fit in, where we have to find a way to earn a living, or at least hunt, gather and grow enough to eat.

  She faced a similar difficulty to the one Tyen had, when searching for a world in which to become ageless. Unpopulated, hospitable worlds rich in magic were extremely rare, and often did not remain so for long. If people could live somewhere, they would. Tyen had improved his chances by selecting a world that had become inhospitable—well, she had chosen it for him. It was suitable because he did not need to stay long. She did not know how long they would have to stay, so it needed to be hospitable, which meant she could not avoid unpopulated worlds. Instead they would seek one where three strangers could make a home without attracting much notice.

  It was generally believed that the further you travelled, the stranger and more hostile the worlds became. Ulma disagreed. She said the worlds were like trees of a forest, which grew around obstacles like mountains and lakes, forming arms in fertile valleys. Some of these arms linked with other forests. If Ulma was right, Rielle could eventually find an arm that led to a forest Valhan had never visited.

  Fortunately, she could begin their journey at speed. Lejihk had recommended a safe path through the neighbouring worlds. If someone followed them, she would be able to travel quickly to shake off pursuit without worrying that she would flee into an area of dead worlds.

  Even if someone saw Qall and thought he was Valhan, it was unlikely they would follow them. But news of the sighting would spread quickly, and once Dahli heard, he and his supporters would rush to track her. So it would be better if nobody saw Qall. As they arrived in the next world, she turned to him.

  “Put up your hood.”

  He paused, surprised, then reached back and pulled his coat’s hood over his head. It wouldn’t hide his face from anyone approaching from the front, but it would conceal him from casual glances.

  Pushing away from that world, she concentrated on following Lejihk’s instructions. In places, the paths between worlds were faint; in others, they were deeply tracked. Most of the time she had to skim to new locations from which to leave, but occasionally a new path led from the arrival site. Now and then she skimmed away from the arrival place and made a new path running parallel to the one Lejihk had recommended, practising using Tyen’s method of concealing his path to hide the beginning and end of their journey.

  After they had travelled through twenty or more worlds, she reached a thoroughfare Lejihk had told her was the main route to a great market. Assured it was safe, she was able to pass through several worlds in quick succession before stopping to allow Qall and Timane to catch their breath in a night-shadowed alcove of the market.

  When they had, she gathered more power.

  “Wait,” Qall said.

  Turning to look at him, she saw in the lamplight that his brow was furrowed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He let go of her and Timane’s hands and pushed back his hood. “We’re going too fast. Can you slow down?”

  “Why?”

  “So I can memorise the path.”

  “You don’t need to, Qall.”

  “How will I find my way back?”

  “Your family won’t be there.”

  He looked away, his frown deepening. “How will I find them?”

  “By searching through the worlds for Travellers, then asking for Lejihk. They will lead you to him.”

  “But … I … When will you teach me how to travel between worlds?”

  “When we find somewhere safe to live.”

  His lips pressed firmly together. “What if we get separated before then? Wouldn’t it be better—for Timane too—if I could do it now?”

  Rielle shook her head. “It takes time to learn how to do it safely.” A movement in the corner of her eye made her tense. “Put your hood back up.”

  He obeyed reluctantly. “It’s not as though anyone will recognise me.”

  “In some worlds, people are paid to watch and memorise or record descriptions of people using arrival places. If anyone discovers that you were hiding with Lejihk’s family they will try to track you using the memories and records of these observers.”

  “If they know you took me away from them, they’ll look for you in these records.”

  Rielle nodded. “They might. But I need to be able to see where I’m taking us. Still, it would be wise to make some changes.” Taking a little extra magic from the world, Rielle stared at a lock of her hair lying against her chest. She concentrated her will, stripping them of colour, then spreading the change across all of her hair. The next alteration was easier, introducing a twist that made her hair shorten as it curled.

  Timane was staring at her in astonishment. She tugged at her hood. “Ah … should I?”

  Rielle shook her head. “The people we are avoiding aren’t looking for a young woman of your colouring, build and age. Keep your hood down. I need you to warn me if any danger appears behind me.” She held out her hand to Qall. Air hissed out of his nose as he sighed. He took hold of her hand, his mouth turning down at the corners.

  She pushed out of the world.

  Quickening their pace, she had only time enough to spare the occasional glance at him. His frown changed from one of annoyance to worry, then it vanished and he simply looked forlorn and a little ill. She stopped.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He nodded, but his shoulders sagged.

  “Really?” she asked, both sympathetic and disbelieving.

  “So far,” he said, grimacing. “I didn’t think we’d go so far.”

  She squeezed his hand. “We have barely begun. Don’t worry—you’ll be able to travel like this one day. It won’t seem so far then.”

  The tightness in his face eased a little. Timane smiled sympathetically.

  They continued on. Soon after, they reached the end of the path Lejihk had recommended. Anticipating this, Rielle had taken extra magic from the last five worlds of the route. Qall’s head rose the first time she did so, and as she paused to let them catch their breath, he turned to her again.

  “Are you expecting trouble?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “But you’ve been gathering magic.”

  “In case we arrive in a dead world. This is as far as Lejihk’s suggested path goes. I’m surprised he travelled this far actually.”

  “Why would you be?” He sounded defensive.

  She met his gaze. “Lejihk is a strong sorcerer, but not so strong that he could easil
y gather enough magic to escape a dead world. Before he visits a world unknown to him, he has three options: travel around a neighbouring world drawing enough magic to escape the new world if it proves to be a dead one; glean what he can of that world from people in neighbouring ones and hope the information is still correct; or simply enter the world and hope it contains magic. Since he’d never risk being unable to return to his family, he must have been choosing the first two options, and they take time. He has spent a lot of effort, and been absent from the family a great deal to map this path—not to establish a new trade route, as this is further than the family would normally travel, but to give us a safe start to this journey.”

  Qall considered that, and nodded. “So what do we do now?”

  “I now have plenty of magic in reserve to escape a dead world if we encounter one, so we continue on—but carefully. We will take recently used paths as they are less likely to lead to dead worlds. It is still possible they could lead to a world that has been recently drained of magic, but it is unlikely.”

  He shuddered. “What happens to the people in a world if that happens?”

  “To most ordinary people, little changes. It depends how much they rely on sorcerers. Those sorcerers will find themselves without magic to call upon. The ageless will no longer be so. Eventually, depending on how populated and prosperous a world it is, it will recover as people generate more magic, but by then most ageless will have grown old and died.”

  “If the sorcerers held power over the ordinary people, the lives of all would change dramatically.”

  She nodded. A chill ran down her spine, but she ignored it. Just because he can see the political implications of such a situation doesn’t mean he is thinking like Valhan.

  Qall looked away and she guessed from this that he had no more questions. Pushing into the place between, she turned her mind to travelling again.

  With no way to measure time, and her body healing away weariness and hunger, it was impossible to judge how much was passing. From time to time, she paused to read Timane’s mind. When the girl grew hungry and weary, Rielle decided to stop and look for food.

  The next arrival place was in an ocean world where people lived on clusters of islands. She flitted over the minds of people as Valhan had once taught her, to judge the general character of a society. It was welcoming to visitors, used to trading with neighbouring worlds. Even so, she hid her path then skimmed to another island, in case these traders arrived and recognised Qall.

  There she found a woman willing to let out the seaside hut her husband stored his boat in, currently empty because he was away fishing for a few days. They bought food from the woman as well, and ate it as the sun descended below the horizon, leaving the island lit by the blue light of a moon with a band of light around it; then Timane and Qall crawled into sling beds and fell asleep, while Rielle set her back against the wall to watch over them.

  Listening to the sound of their breathing, Rielle healed away weariness. She doubted she would sleep until they were far beyond the worlds the Raen had ruled. How long that would be, she couldn’t guess. But she’d reach it eventually. Only then would she rest.

  CHAPTER 5

  Once dawn arrived, the hut grew unbearably warm. Timane and Qall woke and threw off the jackets that had kept the chill of night at bay. Qall moved to the door.

  “Qall, stop,” Rielle warned. He froze and looked back at her. She nodded at the coat at the end of his bed. “Hood up, or wait here.”

  He looked appalled. “But it’s so hot.”

  “We won’t be here long.” She took a square of gold out of her purse and handed it to Timane. “Buy some food.”

  The girl nodded and slipped out of the hut.

  Qall crossed his arms. “I need to pee. Do you want me to do that in here too?”

  She nodded. “Wait here. I’ll get a bucket.”

  The sun’s heat made her wince. Timane was already several strides away, heading towards a fan-shaped shelter under which several locals were lounging. Rielle cast about, but found no suitable vessel nearby. She started after Timane.

  A short while later, she and the girl returned carrying a bucket, a bowl full of some kind of salted and fried sea creature and a crisp, slightly slimy vegetable that looked like the pith from the centre of a reed. As Rielle reached the hut door, she froze. It was slightly open. Grabbing the handle, she pulled.

  The room inside was empty. Qall’s coat lay on one of the beds.

  Muttering a curse, she grabbed the coat and searched the area with both eyes and mind. In the thoughts of two children, brother and sister, she found him. They were leading him towards the altar around which most of the villagers were now gathered for their daily worship. To the statue of the Hero, brought by the missionaries many generations before, worn but still recognisable.

  Rielle grabbed Timane, pushed out of the world and skimmed towards them. The thick vegetation along the beach blurred past. The trees beyond whipped to either side. A cluster of huts surrounded them, all radiating out from a mound around which a crowd had gathered. Qall was less than a hundred strides away.

  Skimming to a stop in front of him, Rielle returned to the world with Timane.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed at Qall.

  He smiled down at the children. “There’s no danger here. They think I’m their saviour. The Hero they worship.”

  The two children repeated the word “hero” in the local language, gazing up at his face. They were holding tight to his hands.

  Qall looked up at Rielle. “We could stay here. They won’t hurt us. They’ll—”

  “You can’t stay here,” she snapped.

  The children regarded Rielle with suspicion, not at all surprised that she had just materialised in front of them. Familiar with sorcerous ways. That’s a bad sign.

  She gently pushed the girl away and took Qall’s hand. “There is danger even here,” Rielle told him, keeping her tone quiet and persuasive. Timane, guessing her intention, freed his other hand from the boy child’s grip.

  “But they would never harm the one they worshipped.”

  “Others would hear about you, and come to see for themselves. Other more powerful people,” Rielle told him. “People who don’t worship this Hero; who would be jealous of your power or seek to gain from it. Who would harm these people in order to manipulate you.”

  “We wouldn’t let them.”

  “As a living god, you would attract attention outside this world. Your enemies would eventually notice.”

  “And you are not who they think you are,” Timane added. “You’d be deceiving these people. That’s not fair.”

  Rielle glanced at the girl in surprise and dismay. When had Timane learned that he looked like the Raen? A quick look in the girl’s mind revealed that Timane had only seen that the children thought Qall looked like their Hero, not that the Hero looked like the Raen.

  Qall’s shoulders fell. Pushing out of the world, Rielle took them back to the hut.

  “Get our packs,” she said to Timane. “I’ll take us somewhere more comfortable to eat.” Timane set down the bowl and hurried to obey. Qall looked down at his wrist, which Rielle was still holding. She let it go, took his coat and held it out. Reluctantly, he slipped his arms in and pulled up the hood. He stood with his back to her, which she took to be in sullen protest until she caught a movement in the direction he faced.

  People were pushing through the vegetation fringing the beach several hundred paces away, and when they saw Qall and Rielle they began running towards them. Looking in their minds, she read hope and delight from those who had believed the children’s claims that the Hero was on the beach, and anger from those who thought the visitors had made just a preposterous, blasphemous claim.

  “Hurry, Timane,” Rielle called.

  The girl emerged and handed them their packs. Shouldering hers, Rielle didn’t wait until the others had done the same before grabbing their arms and pushing out of the world. Immediate
ly the heat was gone—and she saw her relief mirrored in her companions’ faces. The villagers were nearly upon them. She skimmed quickly out over the water, then higher so they could see further into the distance. The island disappeared over the horizon.

  Ahead, the arc of a sandbank appeared, as white as snow. Heading for that, she set them down on the grassy centre. Only then did she realise that they’d left the bowl of food back beside the hut.

  Sighing, she fished out of her bag some of their dried travelling rations and handed it around. They all brought out their water flasks. Qall looked less annoyed now, Rielle was glad to see.

  “So who is this man they call the Hero?” he asked suddenly. “The village elders also called him the Raen and believe he is a hero in all worlds.”

  Timane coughed, choking on a mouthful of water. She looked from Rielle to Qall, her eyebrows high with disbelief.

  Rielle shook her head. “I don’t know about the Hero, but I know about the Raen. He was a very powerful sorcerer, hated in some worlds and loved in others. You are not him either.”

  “He was a sorcerer?”

  “He died.”

  “Well, then I don’t have to fear him at least.”

  “No.” Rielle rose and held out her hands. “Let’s move on.”

  Qall paused. “These people we’re hiding from … they’d have harmed my family if I’d been found with them?”

  “Perhaps.”

  He nodded and took Rielle’s hand. “Then it is good that I left.”

  A wary relief filled her. Was this the first sign of him accepting his new future? Linking hands with her two companions, she skimmed across the world. Hoping to avoid more encounters with worshippers of the Hero, she stopped here and there to search minds whenever they encountered small settlements. It became apparent that he was one of this world’s most popular deities. Travelling away from the sun, she reached a city still in darkness and found an arrival place with an established path leading away.

  From there, they barely paused in each world, only standing long enough on solid ground for the young man and woman to catch their breath and Rielle to draw enough magic to replace what she’d used. The arrival places were situated in greater and more elaborate city locations. Some were outdoors—a vast plaza or raised dais. Some were enclosed—sheltered by delicate pergolas or protected within soaring, highly decorated domes. Sometimes hundreds of uninterested citizens walked by; sometimes they were surrounded by a circle of watchful guards.