Angel of Storms

by Trudi Canavan

  I see why he lied. I’d not want anyone to see my mistakes.

  Exploring further, she stopped when she saw an old memory of Inekera in his mind and was able to link back to more recent encounters.

  He thought she had killed me, she discovered. Wait… he ordered Inekera to kill me! After the woman had tested Rielle’s strength she had chased after him and offered to dispose of the new sorceress, knowing that he always killed powerful sorcerers before they could gain the skill and courage to become a threat. He had agreed, and felt only mildly disappointed at the necessity. But it had turned out he didn’t need a Maker after all. His world was still intact.

  But then he learned from another new and powerful sorcerer of a method to preserve all his knowledge and memories. It had given him an idea. A daring idea that would deal with both his allies and the inevitable rebellion that would rise after his long absence. An idea that required someone very powerful, who he could be sure would perform the task. The one with the sentient book was of more use as a spy. He’d regretted ordering her death. When he learned that the Travellers had adopted a powerful Maker he had investigated, and discovered that Rielle had survived.

  Rielle let that thread of his memories go, disturbed by his assessment of her. What would he have done if I’d decided to stay with the Travellers and marry Baluka? Would he have ordered Baluka’s death? Was he that ruthless?

  But she might just as well wonder if she’d have killed Sa-Gest deliberately, rather than accidentally, if he’d attacked her that day on the mountain road. He hadn’t. She hadn’t. Valhan hadn’t. And she had never deluded herself about Valhan’s willingness to kill in order to protect himself and the worlds. She’d only accepted it because she believed his ultimate motive was good: peace throughout the worlds.

  This death and resurrection isn’t only to save himself. It’s about getting rid of the allies. He’s taking a huge risk in order to achieve that. If a safe life was all he wanted it would make far more sense to live quietly somewhere nobody paid much attention to.

  She couldn’t imagine him doing that, though. He was not a man who would be satisfied with a simple existence. He was a man who burned himself alive in order to ultimately return to rule.

  Despite everything she had learned, despite knowing he had used her, and had even ordered her death, she couldn’t help admiring him.

  As abruptly as before, the pattern stopped flowing from Dahli. She blinked, looked up at him, then down at the casket.

  One more step.

  Reaching for more magic, she discovered that the world was running low. The others and Dahli still held more than enough to leave the world, so she took what remained in the world. Seeking the life below her, she relocated the young man’s mind.

  It was not as it had been before.

  Where there had been no mind there was consciousness. Thoughts were forming. Memories were waking. None of them were Valhan’s.

  What is doing this? At once, she recognised pattern shifting. The mind within the body was undergoing the same constant habit of preservation and restoration that hers had gained when she’d become ageless. But of course it is. That was part of the pattern I imprinted. Valhan’s pattern, as an ageless man.

  But it meant the original mind of the young man was being restored.

  It was happening slowly and unevenly. As with Valhan’s memories imprinted in the hand, the most recent woke first.

  She saw Valhan. She saw confusion. Is this really how a sorcerer became ageless? he wondered. He knew something was not right, but it was too late. His struggles were ineffective, and he gave up, terror fading at the same time as awareness.

  Rielle shuddered as she realised the truth. This was no young man who had been born mindless. This was an ordinary young man whose body had been stolen, and mind suppressed.

  Why hadn’t I seen this in Valhan’s memories?

  She turned back to them, searching, and found nothing. Only then did she remember Valhan telling her that memories could be erased. She found knowledge of the experiments he’d undertaken to develop the method of resurrection, but none of the details.

  She sought the mind of the young man. He was half awake, shivering and panting with terror.

  If she imprinted Valhan’s memories over his, it would be as close to killing him as plunging a knife into his heart.

  She had killed before, she reminded herself. And this was the only way the Raen could be resurrected. If she did not continue Valhan would die–properly this time. She had to do this.

  And yet… she could not bring herself to. It was wrong to obliterate the mind of someone who had barely lived his life. A young sorcerer who had so much potential. Anyone, really.

  But who will maintain peace in the worlds?

  What would the worlds be, without Valhan? She couldn’t answer that question. She almost laughed aloud as she remembered what he had said. “I have never met anyone who could predict the future.” He had admitted he could never anticipate the consequences of his interference in a world. He was only certain that, without him, the worlds would fall into chaos.

  But if he could not predict the consequences of anything, was he even right about that?

  The death of the young man might save the worlds from ruin, or it might make no difference at all.

  Which means Valhan’s resurrection might save the worlds from ruin, or make no difference at all.

  That thought brought a rush of clarity.

  If the outcome was uncertain either way, the choice was really between the life of a young man who had barely lived, and that of a powerful ruler who had lived a thousand cycles.

  She knew too little of either to know who deserved that life more, but the one thing she was certain of, which her own actions had taught her, was that killing someone should not be done lightly or selfishly.

  And maybe it was the person who was willing to obliterate another’s existence in order to cheat death who didn’t deserve to live. Maybe it was the person who killed powerful sorcerers just in case they became a threat who didn’t deserve to be resurrected. Maybe it was the person who would do anything–from making alliances with people who abused their power to manipulating young sorcerers into rebelling so that they and the allies would kill each other off–to remain in power who deserved to die. Or rather, to remain dead.

  “Rielle,” Dahli said.

  She started, catching herself before she could look up at him. His mind was closed now, but she looked beyond the block to see he was growing concerned.

  Her resolve weakened. What she was about to do would hurt Dahli in a way he would never forgive. He would be devastated. He might even kill her, thinking his suspicions about her had been true all along. The Raen’s friends would help him. She did not have enough magic to fight them, or the knowledge how.

  No, he won’t. He believes I’m the only person who can do this. Looking into his mind she saw that she was wrong. The sorcerer with the mechanical insect was strong, too. Maybe not as strong as Rielle, but perhaps strong enough.

  The only hope for the young man in the casket was for her to flee, taking him with her.

  That would require reaching him within the coffin of ice somehow. Once she touched him she could take him with her. How to do it before Dahli stopped her? She had barely more magic than she needed to leave the world. But the casket was only ice, so she did not need much.

  Placing her hands on the back of the coffin, out of sight, she warmed the ice to melt a hole.

  Dahli looked down at the casket and frowned.

  “What is he…?” he began.

  Her hand slipped inside the casket as the hole she was melting reached the interior. Bending down, she reached inside and groped around, seeking a foot.

  “Rielle!” Dahli exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

  She looked up at him.

  “This is wrong, Dahli,” she said. “He is no mindless vessel.”

  He shook his head. “There is no other way, Rielle.”

/>   “Isn’t there? What about putting his mind into truly a mindless body instead of stealing this man’s? Or growing a new body from other living matter?”

  “He must have a body that has developed fully,” Dahli told her, struggling to keep panic and anger out of his voice. “And a mind that is capable of using magic.”

  How does he know this? She looked within his mind. He doesn’t. Valhan only left orders, not explanations. He trusted that Dahli would not question any of it. And he was right.

  “All things come at a cost,” Dahli told her, moving around of the casket.

  “The cost is too high,” she told him.

  Dahli scowled and strode towards her. “Who are you to decide?” he shouted. “You’re a few cycles old. You know nothing. You’ve seen a handful of worlds–and you don’t even know how to travel between them.”

  Her hand encountered cold flesh. She grabbed it, let the memories written into magic dissipate, and pushed out of the world. In the fading room she saw him turn to the others, his voice a muffled shout.

  “Kill her.”

  She pushed away from the world as hard as she could.

  The shift to white was instant. She lost awareness of the world. Her senses told her she was still moving, propelled onward. A landscape of shifting grey and black slammed into her. She fell into warm liquid and sank.

  Keeping her grip on the young man’s leg, she pushed again. She had no idea where she was going, let alone how to hide her trail from her pursuers. Thankfully she didn’t return to the icy world, but somehow steered herself down another path. She knew she ought to try some of the methods Dahli had used earlier to hide his trail, but she wasn’t sure how to forge a new path.

  Five worlds on, one of the Raen’s friends caught up with her.

  He materialised in the whiteness, grabbed her arm and yanked her in another direction. They emerged on a great flat plain of white spikes, from the size of her littlest finger to ones as large as towers. Those she landed on broke and rolled under her feet. She managed to stop the young man falling onto them, suspending him in the air.

  The sorcerer still held her arm. It was the handsome one. The one the mechanical insect belonged to. The one who’d given Valhan the idea of how to resurrect himself. He stared at her face intently. He was breathing heavily.

  “If you want… to escape… trust me,” he panted.

  She gaped at him, then closed her mouth. What choice did she have?

  “Wait a moment.”

  She brought the young man closer. He was semi-conscious. She gathered him in her arms, where he slumped, an awkward weight. Then she nodded to the sorcerer.

  “Go.”

  They travelled fast–as fast as Valhan had taken her. After she lost count of the worlds she concluded that he must be keeping his word.

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked when they reached the next world.

  To her surprise he smiled, but with sadness. “Because you are right.” He nodded at the young man. “It is wrong, what they want to do to him.”

  She looked closer, seeking the truth. “I can’t read your mind!”

  “No,” he replied. He sounded as if he wanted to say something more, but a woman walked out of a door nearby and froze, staring at them.

  The sorcerer closed his mouth and propelled them onward.

  How can I be sure he’s truly helping me? What if he is taking me in circles until Dahli catches up?

  “Stop!” she demanded, as they reached another world. They stood on the soft sand of a wide, undulating beach.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He shrugged. “Away from the Raen’s friends.”

  “Have we lost them?”

  “I think so. I told Dahli I would pretend to save you. Then we’d have a chance of persuading you to reconsider.”

  Her heart froze. “You… pretend…”

  “I was pretending that I would pretend,” he said. His mouth twisted to one side. “I know that sounds confusing. I didn’t have much time to come up with a plan. I think I will find you somewhere safe to hide and then go back and say that I lost you.” He frowned. “Hmm. Dahli said you couldn’t travel between worlds, so how can I explain losing you? Though he was wrong about that, so maybe he would believe me.”

  She shook her head. “I learned… very recently. He’ll know I can’t do it well.”

  “I thought so.”

  “So… where are you taking me?”

  He grimaced. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “You don’t have to. Let me go on from here.” She stared at him, challenging him to refuse. “Go back. Tell him I tricked you, or I had help.”

  “But… I ought to make sure you find somewhere safe to hide.”

  “Then you’ll know where I am, and I’d rather you didn’t.” She winced at her own bluntness. “Though I am grateful for your help, it would be safer for us.”

  He looked at the young man, who was twitching and tossing his head from side to side. I have to wake him up soon, Rielle thought. Get him out of the nightmare.

  “Do you know where you are?” the sorcerer asked.

  “No.”

  “There’s a world of healers near here. People in this world know of it and can give you directions. They might be able to heal him. Just go through the—”

  “Now you’ve told me,” Rielle said, “I won’t be able to go there.”

  The sorcerer gave her a long look. She stared back. He lowered his eyes, nodded and let go of her arm. “Avoid worlds that have no paths in or out,” he advised. “Especially out. Those are likely to be dead worlds.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He took a step back, then–still watching her, still frowning–faded from sight.

  When he was gone, she travelled through another three worlds. The young man grew more twitchy, so she stopped in a field and gently let him slump to the ground. As she saw his face for the first time she froze.

  He had Valhan’s colouring, but his face had the roundness of a boy reaching the physical change to adulthood. She wondered if the pattern shifting hadn’t been permanent, after all, and the first change back to his original pattern was a reversion to the boy’s true age. Or had the pattern automatically settled into the age of the boy? Or had Valhan been this age when he’d become ageless?

  His expression held a torment she had never seen on the Raen’s face.

  He moaned and his eyelids fluttered.

  “Soon,” she said. “Just a few worlds more then I’ll wake you up properly.”

  Taking the young man’s hand, she pushed out of the world.

  PART TEN

  EPILOGUE

  TYEN

  Familiar, elegant handwriting spread across the page. Tyen smiled. He had missed Vella a great deal. Long stretches of time had passed among the rebels when he had no opportunity to talk to her safely. Now he was free to converse whenever he wanted.

  You could rejoin the rebels. They don’t know you were a spy.

  Baluka knows about you, he reminded her. Anybody who can read his mind can learn that I carry a book that contains the secret of agelessness.

  Then share the knowledge. If it is no longer a secret there is no reason for them to covet me.

  He considered that. I suppose the worlds aren’t in danger of being overrun by ageless, and with all the allies being killed the number of them is reducing. I could trade the secret of agelessness for help finding a way to restore you, too, once the rebels aren’t preoccupied with punishing their enemies.

  That will take some time.

  Yes. Perhaps more time than I’m willing to wait. Besides, there is still Rielle. She might be persuaded to help you.

  Her reason for stopping the resurrection of the Raen will also apply to me.

  Remembering the young woman who had defied Dahli and the Raen’s loyal friends, admiration stirred again. Strong, beautiful and admirably scrupulous, she had impressed him a great deal.
Watching her refuse to kill another person in order to resurrect the Raen, he’d known he would make the same choice, even to restore Vella.

  There has to be a way to do it without destroying another person’s mind. If only I’d had the chance to ask Rielle what she had been doing during the resurrection. All I saw from Dahli’s mind was the Raen’s memories–and they flowed so quickly it was impossible to grasp much.

  Dahli would be a more useful ally than Rielle. If anyone knows where the Raen performed his experiments, he will. It is unlikely the Raen did not have plans in place in case the resurrection failed.

  Dahli will want me to kill someone to resurrect the Raen. I won’t do that.

  A movement in the corner of Tyen’s eye drew his attention away. A figure was materialising, and as it grew more distinct he smiled. Baluka had received his message and deciphered it.

  The rebel leader sucked in a deep breath as he arrived. Giving his visitor time to recover, Tyen closed Vella, slipped her into her bag and tucked it under his shirt. Baluka moved over to the window and leaned against the smooth, mud-rendered sill. Behind him, the view of Doum shivered in the hot air.

  “Tyen,” he said, “how have you been?”

  “Well,” Tyen replied. “Keeping out of sight. Waiting for you.”

  Baluka grimaced. “I’ve not been able to slip away, and you know how much I wanted to.”

  “Yes.”

  “So?” The rebel leader’s eyes were full of hope and fear.

  “I found her,” Tyen told him. “She is–well, at the time she was alive and well.”

  “Where is she? Is it safe to tell me?”

  “I don’t know where she is,” Tyen admitted. “I was able to get her away from the Raen’s friends, but then she decided I wasn’t to be trusted either and continued on her own.”

  “Have you looked for her since?”

  “Looked out for her, but not looked for her.” Tyen shook his head. “The Raen’s friends want to find her, and I’d hate to be the cause of them succeeding.”