When he finally stopped they stood before a sturdy but unremarkable travellers’ house. Everything looked colourless and quiet in the muted light of dusk.
“This should do,” he said, then opened the door for her.
She stepped inside and stayed silent as he spoke to the owner. They inspected a room and Izare bartered down the price. He told the woman that Rielle was visiting Fyre and, because of a sick relative, could not risk staying with her family. She might leave in a few days or stay longer. Though the woman nodded and made the appropriate murmurs of sympathy, Rielle suspected she didn’t believe a word of it. Which seemed to be confirmed when the woman made no comment or objection to Izare staying in the room after she left.
Rielle was too tired to worry about what the woman thought of her. The room was tiny – space enough for a bed, a small table and a chair. Rielle didn’t have anything but the clothes she was wearing and her purse – which was considerably lighter than usual since she had bought that terrible yellow scarf the corrupter had kept as payment.
The corrupter. Magic. Rielle’s knees felt weak and she sank down onto the bed.
“It has been an incredibly awful day,” she gasped.
Izare drew the chair up to the bed and sat down.
“Not all of it. You didn’t seem to mind the way it started.”
The painting lesson. It seemed like days ago now. She looked up, and he gave her a lopsided smile. Of course, he doesn’t know what happened after I left his house. And he won’t. Ever. She forced her face into a happier expression.
“No. You are the one good thing.” Then she looked away – down at the floor – before her eyes could betray what she had done.
He reached out and slipped two paint-stained fingers under her chin, lifting her head so she had to meet his eyes.
“If you try, you will find something good comes out of even the darkest times.” Then he leaned down and kissed her.
Perhaps he was right, she thought, as the room seemed to brighten and the weight of gloom began to lift. As the kiss continued, and he drew her closer, a thought slipped into her mind.
At least there’s no danger of me falling pregnant now.
It ought to have stirred horror. Instead, she felt a weary relief that she had one less thing to worry about. Yet if they did what she was contemplating, she would no longer be a virtuous bride for whoever she eventually married.
That was, if she dared …
But why not? If her parents dragged her home and made her marry into one of the great families, her husband would be some fool or monster nobody else would take anyway. He could hardly complain if she, too, had a flaw in her character.
And she was heartily sick of thinking of herself as carefully preserved stock, anyway. She wanted to be like Izare’s female friends – bold and free of the obligations of her class.
Izare pulled back and frowned as she rose to her feet. She moved to the tiny window. The view outside was of a wall, so close she could have reached out to touch it. Even so, she drew the blind. He chuckled as she turned to look at him.
“Lock the door,” she told him.
His eyebrows rose. As he turned away to do as she asked she pulled off her scarf and laid it on the table. Then she took off her tunic. The air on her bare skin was exhilarating.
He turned back and stilled.
“Well, well,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve decided then.”
She nodded. “Yes. If you…? I mean, I will understand if you don’t want me to stay. It will bring you a lot of trouble.”
His gaze rose to her face. He closed the distance between them. Staring in her eyes, he nodded. “Of course I want you to stay. I love you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
His eyes were bright, but his expression serious. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.”
He sighed and reached out to run his fingers down her bare arms. “I can think of nothing but you. I want nothing but you.” Then he grinned. “And lots of commissions from wealthy clients so we can be rich and have a big happy family.”
Rielle winced, then tried too late to hide it.
Izare frowned, then shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean … Why am I still talking?”
“Why indeed?” she asked.
Then he kissed her, drew her over to the bed, and they did not say much more for quite some time.
PART THREE
TYEN
CHAPTER 11
Looking upward, Tyen wondered if aircarts were circling above the fog. The only sign that dawn had arrived was that the fuzzy glow around the railsled station lamps was receding into a general paleness. The fog was a small stroke of luck, if a damp one, since the station was small with no waiting room to hide him from aerial searches.
Soon it wouldn’t matter. He had decided, as the long flight cleared his head, that he must go back to the Academy and prove his innocence. But not until Vella was safe.
It was almost light enough now for him to read. He had been itching to talk to her since leaving the Academy. Driving Kilraker’s aircart and keeping watch for pursuers had taken all his attention the night before. Being a clear night, there had been plenty of traffic to hide among. A few times he’d thought someone was following him, and breathed a sigh of relief when the other aircart descended or turned in another direction.
He opened Kilraker’s pogbag. It was the smallest of the bags and cases Drem had strapped to the aircart chassis. With magic, it had been easy for Tyen to force the servant away from the vehicle without hurting him and to untether the craft. He’d had no time to untie the luggage, however. Though he’d been tempted to ditch it in flight he’d decided to search it all for evidence that Kilraker had set him up. He’d landed in an aircart field on the outskirts of Belton and made a quick but thorough inspection, but found only clothing, items for personal grooming and correspondence, and a considerable amount of money.
He’d put everything he thought might be valuable in the pogbag, using some of the money to pay for the rest of the luggage to be taken to the closest Academy Hotel. He’d almost left it all behind in the field, vulnerable to thieves, but by then he knew he’d be going back to the Academy, and it would be better to appear considerate than spiteful when he came to face the professors.
When he did, he would need to be armed with as much knowledge of Kilraker’s plans as he could be. Vella might have read something in the professor’s mind that Tyen could use to prove his innocence. Hoping she wouldn’t be affected by the damp air, he drew her out. He thought about his plans, then opened to the first page. His heart lifted as black marks began to form.
You will be taking a great risk, Tyen.
He shook his head. I have to, he told her. I have to tell them the truth about Kilraker and clear my name. What other choice do I have? To keep running?
It is a choice.
It seems like the wrong thing to do. If there is the tiniest chance I can convince them of my innocence I should try. But don’t worry, I won’t let them get hold of you. I’ll find a place to hide you.
Thank you.
Before I do, I need to know everything you know about Kilraker’s plan to steal you. Tell me what you read from his mind.
When he first took me from you he was thinking that, from what Miko had told him, I might be the opportunity for the wealth and fame he and Tangor Gowel were looking for. But since Professor Delly had seen me, Kilraker had limited time before he had to deliver me to the Director. He returned to his room and questioned me about many things. Mostly he sought clues as to where the great treasures of the past might be hidden, but also if there was any magical knowledge lost to history that might profit him. He decided then to steal me out of the vault and it occurred to him immediately that you were the obvious one to shift the blame onto. He then arranged to have as many other professors as possible hold me, so that later he might learn their secrets, before he handed me over to Director Op
hen.
The next time I read his mind he had already taken me from the vault. He had recruited Gowel and his plan to shift the blame to you was already under way. He questioned me more, this time about the diminishing magic of the world, its causes and possible solutions. The idea that he might be the one to solve the problem appealed, as it would make him even more rich and famous. He wasn’t in a great hurry, and he was interrupted, perhaps by you.
As the words stopped appearing, Tyen considered what he had learned. The news that Kilraker wanted to leave the Academy to seek his fortune was new. A tight knot of anger formed in his gut as he realised Kilraker had formulated his plan to frame him so quickly and easily.
Was there anything that he could use to prove his innocence and Kilraker’s guilt? The fact that Kilraker and Gowel were friends but pretending otherwise might help establish that they were being deceitful, but it didn’t prove anything. And something didn’t make sense …
Kilraker and Gowel had been pretending to be enemies before they knew you existed. Miko said they’d argued that night in Palga, after I left. Why would they do that?
They weren’t pretending to be enemies. Their disagreement was real but there was no rift. Gowel thought Kilraker should simply leave the Academy and join him, but Kilraker didn’t want to lose his connection with it if he didn’t have to. He wanted a guarantee that he would make his fortune before he left the Academy’s support.
How long had he been waiting and planning to leave?
Five years.
Did he write down those plans anywhere?
He kept notes on possible sources of treasure in a notebook.
Which any archaeologist would. No, I need something more damning. Did he write down his plans to frame me?
No. He kept a diary, but took care never to mention anything that might incriminate him.
What about anything you told him that might prove he had you after you were stolen? Something he learned about other professors?
No, he didn’t ask about them. He didn’t have time to, before he was interrupted.
Tyen sighed and looked away. Kilraker could have written down something incriminating since then, but Tyen would have to convince the Academy to get hold of Kilraker’s diary, without Kilraker finding out and destroying it first, and hope that the man’s careful avoidance of recording information that could be used against him had slipped. He looked at the page.
Is there anything else that Kilraker has done that the Academy would disapprove of, that might convince them he is less than trustworthy?
He has kept some of the valuable items he and his students have found. Occasionally he has stolen ideas and research from his students, and from another student when he was one himself.
He wouldn’t be the only one. He was breaking rules, but not ones that would make the rest of the professors suspicious of him. Tyen sighed. What he needed was evidence that Kilraker had entered the vault, or had planned the theft. The sort of evidence he’d find in the Academy and nowhere else. But first he must think of a safe place to hide Vella. His thoughts turned to his father. He’d have to travel through Belton to reach home, transferring to a different railsled line …
Professors will be waiting there for you, Vella told him. Either they’ll capture you there or wait until you leave to do it so they can find out what you told your father and whether you left anything with him. And if you post anything to him they’ll intercept it.
Tyen grimaced. She was right. Was there anyone else he could trust? Someone less obvious?
They’ll visit all members of your family, all the friends you ever had. Anyone they know you might trust.
I could give you to the papers – or the police.
You don’t want to reveal the Academy’s secrets to the papers, and the police obey the Academy when it comes to matters of magic.
A rich collector? He shook his head. No, I don’t know anyone well enough. I wouldn’t want you to end up in the hands of someone unscrupulous.
And someone with scruples would give me back to the Academy when they realised I was stolen.
Tyen muttered a curse. Vella was telling him what he already knew but hadn’t acknowledged. He considered the only other idea he’d had.
I could bury you somewhere.
If you thought that was a good idea, you would have done it already. But you know that the most likely consequence of you returning to the Academy is you’ll be locked up as a thief.
And you’ll be stuck wherever I buried you, Tyen finished. For ever, if something happens to me. So what am I doing, Vella? What chance do I have of succeeding?
Very little chance. You have no evidence that Kilraker stole me or even planned to, whereas he has witnesses who saw you take me from him in the tunnel. You stole his aircart and ran away, which makes you doubly a thief.
Tyen sighed again. If only they trusted you to tell them the truth. But they won’t even try to work out if you can be trusted. They think you are a danger to me, but now I am a danger to you. You would be safer with a new owner.
I regret to say it, but you are right. But if you are to find one, you have little time to do it.
He rubbed his eyes, feeling the lack of sleep weigh down on his shoulders.
I need more time. I guess I have to delay returning to the Academy. Go somewhere the professors won’t find me. I have to … I will have to—
A distant shriek cut through the fog. He looked up, recognising the sound of the railsled horn. It was early, and the sound was coming from the wrong direction.
Or is it? If I am to avoid capture, I will have to keep running. And that means heading away from Belton.
Another, louder wail set the air vibrating, then a great hulking shadow emerged from the mist. Heat radiated from it. Steam hissed from the engine. As it passed, Soot billowed above it as magic was drawn down to heat the water within the boiler. The great machine slowed to a stop.
Looking left and right, Tyen saw that a small crowd had formed, mostly shadows in the fog. He had deliberately chosen to sit at the end of the station, away from as many other travellers as possible. Those closest enough to see him were all looking towards the engine.
He stood up, crossed the line, walked around the end of the railsled and climbed aboard the end carriage. It was empty, since few people needed to travel away from the city this early in the morning. He sat down.
A whistle sounded, then the carriage jerked into motion. Slipping Vella into the pocket of his coat, he began to invent a story for the ticket checker about how, disoriented by the fog and not used to rising early, he’d bought a fare going the wrong way.
CHAPTER 12
Before long, Tyen had sunk into a misery of realisation as he thought of everything he was giving up and leaving behind. His father would be worried. Ashamed, too, if he believed the Academy’s accusation of theft. I will write him a letter, when I’m far enough away. Though I’ll have to take care to ensure they can’t trace where it was sent from.
He thought of his friends, but the pang of regret was not as strong as he’d expected. Miko had betrayed him. Neel’s loyalty was to himself and his family. Tyen hadn’t seen his old friends from before he joined the Academy for a few years, and it bothered him to think that they might believe he’d become a thief.
What would happen to his belongings at the Academy? He supposed they would be sent to his father. As he began a mental inventory of his possessions he thought of his desk, covered in partly made insectoids, and his heart lurched.
The thought of leaving Beetle behind was unexpectedly painful. It was silly to be attached to a mechanical device. Silly to feel worse about abandoning it than anything or anyone else. He might see his father again one day, even if only as a visitor to his cell. Who knew what would happen to the little insectoid? He doubted anyone who took possession of it would appreciate the work that had gone into creating it. The Academy might even throw it away.
The Academy. Tyen’s chest constricted. His dreams
of becoming a professor had been all but stripped away. He’d completed a few years of classes out of the eight required to qualify as a sorcerer or historian. Not enough to broaden his employment choices beyond those of a mere machine operator. Though the chances of ending up bored and forgotten in a mundane job now weren’t as great as ending up bored and forgotten in a prison.
The door between carriages opened and Tyen’s heart skipped as he saw a uniformed man enter carrying a ticket punch and a satchel. The old man saw Tyen and strolled over with the practised ease of someone well used to the swaying of the carriage.
Tyen produced his ticket, then pretended surprise when it was the wrong one. The ticket checker’s eyebrows lowered.
“Where’d you tell the seller you were going?”
Tyen searched for a believable reply. Was there a town on this line that sounded enough like Belton that the ticket seller would have mistaken it? The checker grunted at Tyen’s hesitation.
“You told him you were goin’ to the city, right?”
Tyen grimaced. “I think so. I can’t remember.”
“Well, either you don’t travel much or you must’ve thought that tickets to Barral had got cheaper. A lot cheaper.” The man opened a satchel and began searching inside. “It’ll cost you another two-plat and four.”
Tyen took his wallet out of his coat and paid the man. “When do we arrive?”
“If all goes well, fifteen past two. We make a longer stop at Millwend at around twelve for those who wish to stretch their legs.” He handed Tyen a new ticket.
“Thanks,” Tyen said. He stowed his wallet again and watched the man walk back to the door and disappear into the next carriage. Then he reached in his other pocket for Vella, thinking that when the man returned he would buy as many maps and timetables of the different rail networks as he could and read them while holding her. Something tickled the ends of his fingers, and he felt a vibration through the lining of his coat.
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