They were debating ways they might all escape the Raen, should he detect one of them travelling to and from the market for supplies.
“They say he can travel faster than all other sorcerers, and doesn’t need to arrive fully in a world before he travels to the next,” one was saying.
“That can’t be true. Even the Raen needs to breathe.”
“Does he?” another asked. “He’s immortal. Maybe he doesn’t have to breathe.”
“Whether it is true or not, we should expect him to be faster than us,” Ceilon said. “We have to be smarter. If we travel in pairs or threes, then we can scatter if we think we’re being pursued. He can’t chase more than one.”
“Ah!” the first said. “If each of us travels with two new rebels, who don’t know anything important, then they can act as bait, drawing him away while we safely escape.”
A familiar mind drew Tyen’s attention. Yira. She was thinking that nobody would want to join the rebellion if they were to be sacrificed so offhandedly. But Tyen could see that the man who’d suggested it believed that ignorant rebels would be less likely to be punished by the Raen.
“They could try to draw him into a dead world,” another was saying. “That’s what some people thought had happened when he disappeared.”
“Then they were wrong,” Ceilon pointed out. “Or he’d still be there.”
“Unless his allies worked out where he was and gathered enough magic between them to enter the world and take him out again.”
Ceilon shook his head. “Can we get back to the subject?” He looked around, and his eyes met Yira’s. She tensed and Tyen understood that Ceilon often asked her for her opinion when she clearly had nothing to contribute, and ignored her when she did.
“What do you think, Yira? What would the warriors of Roihe suggest?”
To explore all other options before resorting to battle, she thought. But that’s not going to go down well here.
“To become one of a crowd,” she replied. “Find a well-populated place and blend in.”
Ceilon nodded. “Yes, he wouldn’t want people to witness him slaughtering innocent sorcerers.”
She snorted. “From what I’ve been told, he’d be delighted to have the opportunity to make an example of us.” Tyen was intrigued to see the depth of Yira’s hatred for the Raen, yet she had never mentioned a personal reason to loathe him. “And we’re hardly ‘innocent’, in the eyes of his allies.”
“I suppose we aren’t,” he said. As he smiled at Yira in a knowing way, she resisted looking at the two rebels who were her former lovers, yet she imagined she could feel their mood darkening as they were reminded of their connection to her. Curious to see if she was right, Tyen sought these men. Sure enough, he found the angry, bitter thoughts of a man named Piello, nursing both a wounded pride and a lingering hope to regain her favour. He’d thought she’d invented her other “friends” to keep him jealous and interested in her, and had been dismayed to find she hadn’t.
The other, Frell, had assumed she had brought her “friends” together in order to let them fight for her loyalty. He’d arrived prepared for battle only to be told conflict between rebels would not be tolerated. And now this third one arrives. The one she kept talking about, exaggerating his abilities. Though… maybe she wasn’t exaggerating about Tyen. I couldn’t read anything of his mind, and I can read everyone else’s.
Tyen nearly laughed aloud at that. He wasn’t the only one secretly invading other rebels’ thoughts. And yet Frell had clearly avoided reading Yira’s mind before coming here, or he’d have known she had only invited him in order to fight the Raen, and had no intention of doing anything with him but that.
They’ll see her inviting me to sleep on her mattress as a statement of preference, though. I should find a new sleeping place as soon as possible.
He’d discuss that with her later. Seeking Ceilon’s mind again, he saw that the man had noted the dark looks the rivals had exchanged. This is why we can’t have women in our group, he was thinking. To Tyen’s amazement, the man recollected turning away other female sorcerers. Even this ugly warrior woman is a distraction. One we don’t need. But perhaps this newcomer provides a way to exclude her. If I tell her to keep an eye on him whenever we have meetings, it’ll keep them both out of the way. And having a second tier of membership means we can make use of other women without them causing problems…
Once again, Tyen felt his doubts easing about the task he’d agreed to undertake. Collectively, these fools were no threat at all to the Raen. The trouble is, they aren’t safe here. If they provoke the Raen he may be forced to retaliate. Do I encourage them to find a safer place, both for them and their families? He wished he could ask Vella what she would suggest, but to take her out and read her was too risky. Someone might notice the words appearing on the page. For now, I need to find a position here in which I have enough influence to hold them back, but not so much that they expect me to make them a greater threat to the Raen. If his mind was the only one Frell couldn’t read he must be the strongest sorcerer here, so he had best emphasise his lack of fighting experience to dissuade them from making him a key part of their battle plans.
And if he could convince them to send their families away, he’d feel a lot better about spying on them.
CHAPTER 6
A half-circle of faces watched Tyen, with expressions of rapt attention.
“So, do you all understand the rules?” he asked. He looked at each member of his audience in turn, looking for any hint of incomprehension. Not everyone in the cavern understood the Traveller tongue and he’d noticed some of the older children translating for younger ones.
All nodded, and he saw no confusion. Opening his bag, he peered inside. The gathering was silent. Expectant. He looked up at them and smiled.
“Come out, Beetle. Come out and meet my new friends.”
At the command “come out” Beetle immediately scurried onto Tyen’s arm. A collective gasp greeted him. None of the children looked frightened, he was relieved to see. Fear was a reasonable reaction when confronted with a bug the size of an adult hand. In the bright light of the cavern the insectoid’s wing covers reflected iridescent blue, but its legs and antennae joins were grimy from dust in the bag mixing with oil.
“Circle around, Beetle,” Tyen instructed.
The wing covers snapped up and the internal wings sprang open and blurred as they began to beat. As the insectoid rose and flew over the heads of the children they exclaimed in delight. Tyen lifted his arm as it completed a circle and it landed, its wings snapping safely out of sight.
“Again!” one of the children exclaimed, and the others followed suit. Tyen grinned. He lifted his arm and repeated the instruction. Beetle buzzed into life again, starting another circuit. As it reached the halfway point one of the boys leapt up, making a grab for it. Beetle swooped away, easily avoiding him, but as it landed Tyen opened his bag.
“Inside bag, Beetle.” A chorus of objections followed. “I told you,” Tyen reminded them. “Nobody is to touch Beetle. It will sting you if you grab it.” The boy who had tried to catch the insectoid looked neither chastised nor even concerned about the danger of being stung. Tyen suspected that, like many children of sorcerers, his family were wealthy and had indulged him.
Beetle always fascinated children. After a few unfortunate incidents, he’d remade parts of the insectoid out of tougher materials, added wing coverings and the ability to withdraw legs and antennae into the shell. Sending Beetle flying over the heads of a group like this first usually told him who to watch out for. The stingers weren’t meant for deterring children, however, but were a defence against theft–of Beetle or the belongings it guarded.
Rather than let disobedient children disappoint others, Tyen had devised a series of tricks he could get Beetle to perform without it coming near them. He was halfway through his repertoire when he saw Yira step out of the meeting room, her expression dark. She looked around, saw him, took a few
steps, then noticed the children and changed direction to head for her belongings.
“That’s enough for today,” Tyen said. “It’s Beetle’s nap time,” he told the children as they objected. “Beetle needs lots of rest. Inside bag, Beetle.”
Once the insectoid was safely inside, he stood, smiling at the excited chatter he left behind as he walked towards Yira. She was sitting cross-legged on her mattress, sipping from her flask.
“Drinking already?” he asked as he reached her.
She nodded, then held it out to him. He shook his head. “It’s too early for anything that potent. Besides, you must be running low. I’m afraid of what you’ll do when you run out.”
She plugged the top and stowed it away. “Probably kill someone.”
“What have they done this time?”
She grimaced. “They sent me to look after you again. As if you need it.”
“Someone has to watch me.” He shrugged. “Though getting my closest friend to do so does make it obvious it’s not me they’re worried about.”
“Is it that obvious to everyone?” She scowled. “That Ceilon is keeping me out of the decision making.”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “We had some powerful, smart women try to join, and he turned them away. I’m not sure why he accepted me, though it’s clear he regrets that decision now.” She curled her hands into fists. “It’s so frustrating! Going to Liftre showed me why the men of my world complain so much, but I didn’t understand how they felt until now. And I know it’s impossible to change anything, because I tried at home and everyone laughed and kept doing the same thing.” She shook her head. “There must be other rebel groups forming elsewhere that we could join. Or you and I could start our own. Or I could just go back to Roihe.”
Tyen shook his head. “The Roihe have been the same way for… what? Hundreds of cycles? This group of rebels has been together for less than thirty days. Change is possible. It’s more likely than no change. Even if you left and joined another rebel group, or formed your own, at some point we’ll all have to unite if we are to defeat the Raen. Better that you overcome their prejudice here and now.”
She spread her hands and shrugged. “But how? This is not the sort of battle I’ve trained for.”
Tyen looked towards the entrance of the meeting room. “Use your enemy’s momentum against him. Focus on something they’ll expect you to be concerned about, as a woman. Convince them to move the families to somewhere safer. Let Ceilon think it’ll get you out of his way for a while, then, when you get the leaders’ agreement, delegate the task, as a true leader would do.”
She straightened. “That might just work. But who do I delegate it to?” Her eyes widened. “You. Of course!”
Tyen’s stomach sank as he realised his mistake. The rebels might decide he should stay with the families to protect them. He’d not know what they were planning, or be able to influence their decisions. “It needs to be someone they’ll trust.”
“This will be the perfect way for you to gain their trust,” Yira told him, her eyes bright with eagerness. “You’ve already won the children over, and you’ve only been here ten or so days. Use that charm of yours to befriend the families. And if you convince them they aren’t safe here, and are endangering others, they’ll demand to go elsewhere.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the rebels wind up so grateful to you for getting their families out of danger that they make you leader.”
A chill ran down his spine. “I don’t want to be the leader. I’m not a leader type.”
Yira nodded. “No. You’re not the type. What do you see yourself as, then?”
“I don’t know. An adviser?”
“Well, I’m glad you’re my adviser.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Thanks.” Then she sniffed and looked around the room. “I smell cooking. It’s nearly mealtime. The rebels will emerge soon to eat. Wait until they go back before approaching anyone. I’ll start suggesting we remove the families. We’ll raise the pressure slowly. Chances are, Ceilon won’t realise what we’re doing until it’s too late. And if he does… he might not send me out to watch you for fear of us hatching any other plots. Ah, here they come.”
As rebels emerged from the meeting room and wandered over to eat, Yira and Tyen joined them. Each family was responsible for preparing their own food, and this meant most of the rebels did not need to cook or clean up.
Is this the real reason why they are so reluctant to send their families away? Tyen wondered. They might have to make their own meals, and do their own cleaning. Are they risking the lives of their loved ones in order to avoid domestic chores?
If they were… Ceilon’s claim that they were willing to live rough for the sake of the cause was a lie. But he doubted they were doing so intentionally. It simply hadn’t occurred to them.
How did their families feel about their situation? Well, it’s time to find out. As Yira and the others returned to the meeting room, he took her bowl and utensils along with his to a pair of women washing theirs.
One of them looked up and held her hands out for the bowls. Tyen shook his head.
“I can clean my own,” he said.
“We don’t mind,” she replied. “This gives us all something useful to do.”
“I could do with something useful to do as well,” he told her.
Her eyebrows rose. “Well… if you have magic you’d be useful fetching some more supplies for us.”
He sighed and looked back towards the meeting room. “I’m not supposed to leave without permission.”
“Well…” She cast about. “Illy and Tandila do most of the work requiring magic, since they can’t join the meetings…”
“I have hands, too,” he pointed out, holding them up and wiggling his fingers.
She smiled. “Very well, then, take this”–she nodded at the basin she had been washing dishes in–“and dump the water in one of the latrines. I’ll go ask Rea what else needs doing.”
From then on he made sure the women kept him busy, first with the many small tasks they had been putting off because they required lifting heavy items, or magic; then, as they grew used to him working among them, he joined them in their regular chores.
Soon he was included in their chatter. He asked a few women if they were happy being here or were afraid for their safety. Most said they wanted to help the cause and take care of their loved ones. They weren’t oblivious to the danger of living in the base and were aware that having so many mouths to feed meant more trips to acquire supplies, and a greater danger of the base being found.
He also heard stories of the Raen and had to admit their grudges against him sounded justified. Reading their minds, he knew where they exaggerated, or how much of the tales were from personal experience or hearsay. It was doubtful that anyone who’d joined a rebellion had good stories to tell of their enemy, though. When they asked him why he had join the rebellion he said he believed all sorcerers should be free to roam the worlds and teach others how to do so. After all, if he hadn’t learned to do it he’d still be stuck in a magically poor world.
In the middle of describing aircarts to three of the women, he was interrupted by someone speaking his name. Turning, he found Brev, the rebel who had shown him the tunnel to the base, standing behind him.
“You’re to come with me.” Brev turned on his heel and strode away towards the sleds.
Tyen put down the nut splitter he’d been using, and bowed to the women. “It has been a pleasure,” he said, then hurried after Brev. He heard a laugh, quickly stifled, then low voices, and he smiled.
But his satisfaction soon evaporated as he considered what could happen to the women if the base was discovered. They shouldn’t be here. Not unless they truly intend to participate in the fight, and then they should be treated as equals, not servants. He’d not seen the rebels make any effort to acknowledge their families’ help. They should at least tell them that their efforts are appreciated.
Then he remember
ed that they would all hate him, if they knew why he was here. He wasn’t sure if he’d been more uncomfortable being unfairly labelled a thief in his world, than secretly being a spy now. But my intentions are good, he told himself. If all goes well I can both save Vella and keep these people safe.
Brev stopped at the sleds, set his pack down on the front of one and began pushing it towards the tunnel. Following suit, Tyen hurried to catch up.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
When the man didn’t answer, a chill ran down Tyen’s spine.
“So that’s how it is,” he muttered as Brev sent his sled into the darkness. He sought the other man’s mind. To his relief, Brev’s orders were nothing more sinister than to get Tyen away from the women. One of the husbands had noticed, and his jealousy had prompted Ceilon to worry that leaving the newer members of the rebellion sitting around with nothing to do was inviting mischief.
What if that’s what Tyen’s really here to do? Brev wondered. For someone who had shown a near-stranger how to get to the base, this shift in attitude was a surprise. As Tyen listened to the man’s thoughts he realised his refusal to allow a mind-read, and Brev not realising that Tyen had been the one to point out their poor security measures, meant the man now distrusted and feared him.
The man maintained a sullen silence throughout the journey along the tunnel, his only instruction being a wave to indicate Tyen should cross the bridge first. They did so with large, empty packs on their backs. When they emerged from the other end of the tunnel it was into a night landscape. Brev took hold of Tyen’s arm and moved them both into the space between worlds.
The speed the man set and the lack of light made the landscape hard to distinguish, but Tyen could sense they were moving left and right and even up and down as they wove through the many already established paths in this world. Brev stopped now and then so they could both take a few deep breaths. When they reached the market he chose a dark alley between two rows of stalls to arrive in. They slipped out of it onto the main road and joined the crowds.
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