Successor's Promise

by Trudi Canavan

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  “Why not?”

  “Killing is never something to be proud of, Qall. I wish that I hadn’t.”

  “Why did you, then?”

  She considered whether she would answer or not. Avoiding the subject would only make him more curious. She didn’t want him thinking of the deaths on her hands as victories from some glorious battle either. The truth was more brutal and shameful.

  “The first was accidental,” she told him. “I did not know my strength. The second … he gave me no choice. I killed him to save people who looked to me to protect them. Neither death was the result of fighting.”

  His expression was serious and he regarded her in silence for several heartbeats before he spoke again. “You’ve never fought in a battle, have you?” He crossed his arms, perhaps in imitation of her. “Shouldn’t I be learning from someone who has?”

  Her stomach sank. How could she answer without losing his respect for her as his teacher? “I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got, Qall. If we were to recruit a sorcerer with battle experience to teach you, we’d have to be sure we could trust them not to tell anyone about their remarkably powerful student. They’d be weaker than you too. Which raises the question, why would someone train you to fight? Would they do it out of kindness? I doubt it. They might agree if the price was right, but we don’t have the sort of wealth we’d need to offer.”

  “What about Tyen? He’s strong, and fought with the rebels.”

  “And we don’t know where he is.” She winced at the bitterness that crept into her voice. “I don’t know him that well anyway.”

  “He’s your friend but you don’t trust him?”

  She uncrossed her arms. “I’d trust him with my life, but that’s mine to risk. I won’t risk yours. While I believe he’s trustworthy, I’ve learned the hard way to be cautious with people whose minds I can’t read.”

  “So he’s stronger than you.”

  “He can’t read my mind either. We are equal in strength.”

  Qall’s eyebrows rose. “Was he the one who taught you to be cautious?”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out again. “No. It was Valhan. The Raen.”

  His mouth opened in a silent “ah,” then closed and his jaw tensed. “So you trusted him, and he betrayed you.”

  He held her gaze, and she knew she was never going to get him to learn any fighting tactics today. Sighing, she beckoned to him and walked towards a fallen column.

  “Very well. I’ll tell you what happened.”

  The chill of the stone seeped through her clothing immediately, so she warmed it with magic. Qall dropped onto one of the stone bricks nearby, too tense from anticipation to look truly as nonchalant as his pose suggested.

  “I’ve always intended to tell you, but I wasn’t ready until now,” she explained. “I’ll start at the start because I haven’t told anyone else the full story and I don’t want to miss anything relevant.” She drew a deep breath, let it out, then cleared her throat. “I met Valhan in my world, which was a weak world. He had been trapped there for twenty cycles …”

  As she continued through her story, she did not mention why she had met Valhan, since the story of her early life felt too personal and Qall didn’t needed to know she had been a criminal among her people. Instead she explained why she had accepted Valhan’s offer to take her to his world. She described how Inekera, Valhan’s ally, had left her to die in a desert world at his bidding when he realised how powerful Rielle was, but the Travellers had found and saved her. When she told Qall she had left them to join Valhan, he was puzzled.

  “But he tried to kill you.”

  “Yes. I know it sounds strange now. Every source of information, including the Travellers, described a man who was truthful. So I believed him when he said he still wanted me to join the artisans in his palace.”

  It was gratifying to see Qall’s scowl when she revealed that the lessons in magic, visit to Valhan’s home world and demonstrations of how he maintained order were intended to convince her to resurrect him. He shook his head when she explained Valhan’s plan for the rebels and allies to fight each other so he was free from all the deals he’d made with the allies when he returned, and there’d be fewer rebels to eliminate.

  “His own friends were planning to kill him?”

  “Not friends,” she corrected. “Allies. Powerful sorcerers he had exchanged favours with, who he allowed to retain power in their world or worlds in exchange for their support.”

  “So why did they want to kill him?”

  “For twenty cycles they’d had a taste of the power they could have without him around. They wanted that back—permanently.”

  Qall nodded. “So he lured the rebels to his world, knowing that the allies would arrive too late to help him, and then the rebels and allies would finish each other off.”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “Why didn’t he put someone else in his place who he’d changed to look like him, instead of killing himself?”

  “Someone among the rebels or allies might have been strong enough to read their mind and discover the truth. Or it’s possible that changing a person to another’s pattern means they also gain that other person’s magical ability, so he’d be creating a potentially dangerous rival.”

  “Ah.” Qall frowned. “So he put his memories into a piece of himself—his hand—ready to move them into a new body. A body he’d changed to look like himself.”

  “He didn’t change the body,” she corrected, then paused to swallow, her throat suddenly dry. “I did that.”

  His eyes widened. “You?”

  “It was the first stage of the resurrection. You were in a large coffin of ice. Dahli—Valhan’s most loyal friend, who was leading the resurrection—told me you did not have a mind. I didn’t know otherwise until I looked at Valhan’s memories. I don’t think he knew I would be able to see them. He might have gambled that I would not object to destroying a person so that he could live, but not that I’d overlook the fact that he planned to kill me after I’d restored him.”

  “Why would he do that, when you’d helped him come back?”

  “The same reason he always killed all powerful sorcerers he encountered—well, except his friends and the allies. We were a threat.” She shrugged. “Though maybe he knew me better than I did. Maybe if your mind had been empty, I would have resurrected him anyway.”

  Qall’s brows knit together. “Why?”

  She spread her hands. “He’d convinced me that the worlds would fall into chaos and destruction without him.” Qall did not look any less confused. “You’ve seen the effect he had on people,” she reminded him. “The statue. The Hero. People loved and worshipped him.”

  “But more hated him. You told me that.”

  “Yes. Love and fear. Both gave him a means to control others—though from what he’d shown me, it often took more than that. He also ruled through an exchange of deals and favours.”

  Qall kicked at the rubble. “So the strife in the worlds is happening because he’s not around to stop it.”

  She nodded. The Travellers might not have told him who he was, or much about the Raen, but they had made sure he was informed about the state of the worlds. “Partly. That doesn’t mean the worlds won’t eventually sort themselves out, with the help of the Restorers—what the rebels call themselves now.”

  “Tell me about the people who want to bring the Raen back.”

  “They call themselves his friends. Some do truly love him, as a follower loves a leader.” And more, in Dahli’s case. Which was why she believed the danger to Qall would not end—at least not until Dahli was dead. “Some want to be well placed when he does return.”

  “Why don’t you kill them?”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “The same reason the Travellers didn’t.”

  He lowered his gaze. “I wouldn’t expect them to. They weren’t stron
g enough.”

  “That isn’t the only reason, and you know it.”

  “Because they don’t interfere with worlds.”

  “No: because killing is wrong.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? Why shouldn’t I kill them when they effectively want me dead?”

  “Because you are strong,” she told him. “If you kill people because they want to take advantage of you or they don’t like you, you are as much a tyrant as they are.” Then she smiled to let him know she didn’t think he was a tyrant. “Once you can change your appearance, there’ll be less chance you’ll have to confront that dilemma.”

  “But … these people will always be out there, trying to find me.”

  Rielle wanted to laugh at that, though bitterly. “I don’t know that anyone has ever gone through life without making enemies. Certainly not the ageless.” Except maybe Ulma. “All you can do is make sure you only have enemies because you are a good person.”

  Qall frowned as he considered that. After a moment, he straightened. “I’m hungry.”

  She smiled at his sudden change of subject. He had the appetite of a growing youth. “Then go back to the cottage and get some food,” she said, getting to her feet and wrapping her scarf around her head. “I’m going to see if I can find a metalworker to make some tools for us.”

  He rose and strode out of the room. Rielle followed soon after, but headed out of the building towards the area of the ruins from where she usually pushed out of the world. She had been arriving and leaving in two separate directions to give the impression the ruins were a place someone regularly paused to catch their breath before moving on, rather than their destination.

  As she walked, she considered Qall’s questions. They had covered most of what he needed to know now, but she was sure he’d come up with more questions. She ought to try to anticipate them and be ready with answers. He might want to know more about Dahli, for instance.

  Reaching the open area she usually left from, she pushed out of the world and skimmed in the direction of one of the local cities along the path she had forged the last time she had visited it—and immediately stopped. The path had been freshly travelled, and she hadn’t come this way in several days.

  Backtracking, she moved past the point where she had pushed out of the world. The path’s freshness continued on. It had been used less than a day before. Whoever had taken it had used it to pass by the ruins.

  She couldn’t tell if this stranger had stopped in the ruins, but if she travelled for long enough along the path she would know the direction they had been going, because their tracks would either grow more or less fresh. Moving in reverse to the direction she’d intended to travel, she kept her senses attuned to the substance of the place between. After a few hundred paces, the stranger’s path split from hers.

  Curious, she followed it. Soon it became clear that it was heading towards the village. The path descended towards the houses, but stopped before reaching them, instead diverting to a ridge overlooking them. Guessing that the stranger had emerged in the world there, she did so as well.

  She looked around with her eyes and mind. The cottage couldn’t be seen from here, she was relieved to see. The minds of the villagers were within easy reach. Lightly touching on each, she jumped from man to woman to child, finding them occupied in their usual activities. Nothing unusual. No memories of strangers visiting them in the last day.

  Pushing out of the world, she found that the stranger’s path continued over the village, withdrawing further into the place between worlds, then skimming closer when they reached the other side of the valley. It led to the top of the ridge between the village and the cottage, and once more descended to the ground.

  Arriving in the world again, Rielle examined her surroundings once more. She looked first towards the cottage. It was shrouded by trees, so she was only able to locate it by seeking Timane’s mind.

  Next she scanned the area for minds. The closest was that of a young woman, Omity, who was waiting to meet someone beside a pool down in the valley. The girl’s excitement made Rielle smile. Omity was full of hope that the young man she loved would appear. He never came to the village. Her parents would not approve of their meeting, nor would his mother, so they had arranged to meet halfway between the village and the cottage he lived in. He tried to visit every day in the late afternoon, but sometimes his mother found something else for him to do. What will he show me today? Omity wondered. A memory rose of a pale-skinned, dark-haired man making rocks hover, or magicking them to grow so warm they turned water to steam.

  Rielle’s heart froze. Despite the glamour the girl’s infatuation had cast on his appearance, they had no doubt the young man was Qall. Air hissed out between her teeth. How long has he been seeing her? She, Timane and Qall had arrived less than a twelfth-cycle ago. The girl had met him several times now. Perhaps before Rielle had started teaching him. Hmm. Perhaps he did more than sulk that time he left Timane on her own for three days.

  The sneaky … what? Liar? He hadn’t deceived her. He simply hadn’t told her. She’d not forbidden him to meet villagers; she’d only said he shouldn’t leave the area on his own. So why hadn’t he said anything about Omity? Perhaps he thinks I’ll disapprove. The girl seemed to think so. And what’s with him calling me his mother? Do I look that old? Surely he’d call me his sister …

  Shaking her head, she made herself consider what to do, if anything. What harm would it do if Qall made a romantic connection here? Well, there’s the girl’s heart to consider. If we have to leave, she will be heartbroken. If we stay and she is right about her parents’ likely disapproval, it will cause trouble with the villagers. Was he as infatuated? He would be even more unhappy if he was forced to give up the girl, or move on.

  And they might be forced, if this stranger had seen them. She considered what she had learned about the mysterious visitor, and immediately realised that it might not be a coincidence that she should stop here and detect the pair.

  The girl’s excitement intensified suddenly. Qall had appeared. As he reached the pool, he drew her close and kissed her. Rielle retreated from the girl’s mind. Eavesdropping on such a personal moment felt intrusive, especially when she was seeing Qall through the girl’s eyes.

  Then flashes of light drew her gaze, followed by laughter. She sought the girl’s mind again. A cloud of coloured lights was swirling around the pair, spiralling up towards the treetops.

  Show-off, Rielle thought, amused. Moving along the ridge, Rielle found that she could see the couple between the tree branches. Then all her humour dissolved. If I can see them from here, then the stranger would have been able to.

  Her blood went cold. It was possible the stranger had viewed the valley from both sides, and no more, but it was also possible they had seen Qall showing off to Omity. If they were from this world or neighbouring ones, they would not have recognised Qall. But they might report seeing a sorcerer here to a local authority, and she needed to know if that was going to attract trouble. She would have to follow their path and locate them. A mind-read would confirm or dispel her fears. In the meantime, Qall and Timane ought to be alert and ready in case they all had to flee.

  That meant interrupting the entanglement below. She hesitated, and peered down at the pair. They were kissing again, and their hands were exploring in ways she was very sure the girl’s parents would not approve of. Pushing out of the world, she skimmed down to the pool, arriving behind Qall.

  They were so engrossed they didn’t notice her, so she cleared her throat. At once, they jumped apart, the girl quickly straightening her clothes. Qall gaped at her, then his face flushed a bright red. The girl regarded Rielle with wide eyes. In her mind rose guilt, longing and a little defiance. Rielle could not quite smother her smile. Memories of her own long-forgotten infatuation with Izare reminded her of how intense and important it had seemed at the time.

  “Qall,” she said, then turned to nod and smile at the girl. “Omity.” Looking back
at Qall, she held his still-fuming gaze. “Someone skimmed to the ridge above here yesterday,” she said in the Traveller tongue. “There’s a chance they saw you, if you were here.” She paused and glanced at the girl. “What were you doing yesterday?”

  “Nothing,” he replied through gritted teeth.

  She held back a laugh. “I don’t mean romancing this girl. What did you do with magic?”

  He blinked, then his brows knit together. “Making clouds into shapes.”

  She winced. He’d revealed how great his reach was, and therefore his unusual strength. “Ah. Go back to the cottage. Protect Timane. I’m going to see if I can find out what this stranger saw and what he or she plans to do about it.”

  He nodded. Glancing at the girl, he spoke an apology in her language, then strode away. Rielle nodded at the girl again, then pushed out of the world and returned to the ridge.

  She would have to travel fast. Finding the stranger’s path, she propelled herself along it. She was not surprised to find they had withdrawn further from the world again, as it made them less easy to see. But they did not skim towards a local city. They continued deeper into the place between, forging a new path out of the world.

  That is a bad sign, she realised. Whatever the stranger had seen, it had spurred them to leave the world immediately. She increased her speed. The stranger had a day’s head start. If they had continued on through more worlds it could take longer than that to catch up, if she didn’t lose their path.

  The next world emerged from the whiteness. The path led to the middle of a field, then skimmed on from there. It took her to a sprawling city, to an arrival place from which two paths led away. One hadn’t been used for days, so she took the other. It led to the next world, then single paths continued through two more. From the following world’s arrival place three paths led away, all recently used. She selected one, which skimmed to a circle of stones, tended by a group of women seers. In the minds of two she saw a memory of the last person to appear in the circle. A man, blond, short and with the paunch and sagging skin of middle age.

  Not an ageless sorcerer. That would make him easier to find, if he was the stranger. But she ought to check the other two paths first.