Maker's Curse

by Trudi Canavan

  Rielle smiled at him, the expression warm but also tired and still a little wary. She looked no different to how he remembered, despite losing her ability to halt ageing five cycles ago. Her brown skin glowed with health, and her dark eyes sparkled with vitality.

  “Tyen,” she said, getting out of one of the garden chairs. She was wearing an elegant, though crumpled, dress and her scarf was still draped over her head. “How are you?”

  “Currently homeless,” Tyen replied.

  Tarren waved Tyen towards a chair. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

  “A little of both,” Tyen admitted.

  Tarren reversed out of the door. “I’ll find an idle student to attend to you.”

  “Idle? Weren’t you just telling me how dedicated they all were?”

  The old man shrugged. “I didn’t say all of the time.”

  He left, and Rielle returned to her seat as Tyen sat down.

  “So why are you homeless?” Rielle asked.

  She listened patiently as he went through the story again.

  “It is sad, the death of this student,” she said when he was done. “Do you think the mercenaries acted beyond their orders?”

  He spread his hands. “They weren’t ordered to kill students, but they weren’t ordered not to either.” He shook his head. “However, they were told to kill me, if they could. That is new. In the past their task was simply to force my school to close or move.”

  “What will you do?”

  He shrugged. “Look for a new home. Keep teaching.”

  “Why don’t you join Tarren here?”

  “Tarren doesn’t teach mechanical magic. The Liftre inventors are particularly determined to ensure they are the only ones teaching it, so if I set up here Tarren would be in even more danger.” He grimaced and shook his head. “But enough about me. How are you?”

  “I’ve had an interesting time lately.” She smiled. “Qall decided it was time to return to the worlds.”

  Tyen paused as he comprehended the implications of both. “Qall is free?”

  “I read his mind and saw no sign that Valhan was in control.”

  “Where is he now?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. He didn’t say what he planned to do.”

  “What would I do if I were him?” Tyen wondered aloud. “Probably seek out loved ones.”

  “The Travellers. Yes.” She smiled briefly, then became serious again. “Or maybe his original family. He saw his identity in Valhan’s memories. Oh – and he has changed his appearance.”

  “Does Baluka know?”

  Her left eye twitched. “I sent a message.”

  He looked at her closely. “Has something happened between you and Baluka?”

  She looked away. “No… well… he asked me to do some things I wasn’t happy about.”

  “Can you tell me?”

  She sighed. “The first was to strip a world. I refused. Then he sent me to top up a world’s magic, but he didn’t tell me it wasn’t fully depleted, or that there were political issues between it and a neighbouring world that I’d have to solve. Nothing too difficult, but I don’t want to be put in that kind of situation. I visited Qall after that, and while Baluka doesn’t know what I do when I take time off each cycle, he knows it will take several days. But I’ve been gone longer than usual now.” She frowned and looked away. “I know I’m avoiding it. Maybe just to remind him that I only work for the Restorers because I want to.”

  “Sounds like he needs the reminder.”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully and met his gaze. “Trouble is, I don’t want to go back. Not yet. It’s not because of what he asked me to do but… I’m tired of it.” She spread her hands. “I’ve barely spent a day doing anything else for, well, four or five cycles.”

  Though she looked perfectly healthy, she now did appear tired, her shoulders sagging and her expression weary and strained. As if her earlier vitality had been a coat hiding her true state, which she had relaxed enough now to shrug out of.

  “Then take a break,” he suggested. “Perhaps that’s all you need.”

  “Perhaps,” she agreed. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her back. “Do you know of any places where you could hide from Liftre?”

  He shook his head. “I was hoping Tarren might know of some.”

  “If he did, it would be easy for Liftre spies to read it from his mind.”

  He sighed. “That’s true. I guess we’ll have to find somewhere ourselves. You know, I’ve wondered occasionally if we’d be better off hidden in a dead world, like Qall was.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Would you be able to teach magic use without magic?”

  “Perhaps if we used other forces to demonstrate principles of magic. Or if we found worlds like your home world, with very little magic, and scaled down the exercises.”

  “I just restored my world, so don’t go there.” Her fingers briefly rapped on the edge of the seat, then she looked up. “What about your world? Are you still wary of restoring it?”

  Tyen’s heart skipped a beat, then began to race, but he was not sure if it was from sudden excitement or dread. He had always hoped to go back to his home one day. In recent years he’d thought about it more, all too aware that his father was getting older and deserved to know his son was alive and well, but he’d been too occupied with keeping his school safe to visit.

  “I was,” he said, “back when I feared some other knowledge from my world would spread and cause even greater havoc in the worlds than mechanical magic has. But I’ve thought of nothing that hasn’t already been invented and misused in some way elsewhere.”

  Her smile was grim. “Yes, it seems like there is little that humans can do that hasn’t already been done, and abused. If you do wish to restore your world, I recommend you enter and look around first to judge whether having sudden access to plentiful magic will have a detrimental effect on the people.”

  He nodded. “Oh, it will. And yet it will have benefits, too. I’d have to provide some guidance.” He rubbed his hands together slowly as he considered what would need to be done. “Some things must be sorted out first, however. How can I get in touch with you when, and if, my world is ready to be restored?”

  “Would you mind if I came with you and looked around while you make preparations?”

  He blinked in surprise. “What about Baluka and the Restorers?”

  “It has occurred to me that if Baluka is sending me to strengthen rather than restore worlds, there probably aren’t so many worlds needing help now. Maybe he wants those that do to wait a little.” She shrugged. “I’ll let Baluka know where to send a message if something requires urgent attention, and how long I will be absent for. How much time do you think you’ll need?”

  He paused to consider. “A quarter-cycle, at most.”

  “That much.” Her eyebrows lifted again. “Sounds like you have quite a few things to sort out.”

  “Only an accusation of theft to have quashed, a fundamental misconception about magic to disprove, an ancient school run by hard-headed fossils to take over and an emperor’s approval to gain.”

  “Sounds like fun.” She smiled, but it quickly faded, and her worried expression sent a chill down his spine. “This feels familiar. In a bad way.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Last time we attempted to manipulate the situation in a world the result was disastrous.”

  “And this time it’s your home world. I don’t want you hating me for helping you if we get this wrong.”

  Tyen paused to consider that. “Well, if it’s any assurance, the people of my world aren’t at war with another,” he said slowly. “Unless big changes have happened, nobody in my world is aware that sorcerers can read minds when there is enough magic about. We will have the advantage once magic is restored.”

  “We won’t be able to read minds until it is,” she warned. “Except where we release enough magic to make it possible.”

  “Then we will do that. I won’t be making the same mist
ake I made in Doum – not reading minds. And with you there, we won’t have to worry about running out of magic and becoming stranded.”

  Her smile returned. “No.” She stretched. “So, will you take your students with you, or wait until you’re sure the locals are friendly?”

  “I’ll wait. I’ll have to move them to a safe place while I’m gone.”

  She nodded. “Perhaps I can restore another dead world for them. One that’s unoccupied and known to have been dead for a while, so nobody will risk visiting it. I know of one, but you’ll have to bring food and water in for them. Would they be prepared to live independently and isolated?”

  “As long as they are safe, my group will be willing to live just about anywhere.”

  The door to the atrium opened and Tarren walked in carrying glasses and a bottle, followed by a student carrying a tray laden with food.

  “That took a while,” Rielle told the old man teasingly. “Did you cook it all yourself?”

  Tarren hooked the toe of his shoe around the leg of a nearby table and dragged it close to her seat. “Oh, I kept changing my mind about what to serve,” he said, winking at the student. The young man smiled faintly and placed the tray on the table, then obligingly retreated when Tarren waved him away. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “So,” he said as he sat down bedside Tyen, then looked at Rielle. “Did you sort out what you came here for?”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, straightening. “Not yet. I’ll go get something from my pack.”

  As she hurried away, Tarren raised an eyebrow at Tyen. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “Is the spark still there?”

  Tyen chuckled. “It never left, for me, but I have no idea if she still feels anything for me. However, we have just made… I guess you’d call it a business arrangement.” Except they hadn’t discussed what Rielle would get in return. He had once offered to restore her youth, when she grew older. It seemed a bit soon to be doing so now. Close up, he had noted small signs of age and how they suited her, from the way her more prominent cheekbones caught the light and how the soft skin around her eyes creased a little when she smiled. It gave her a maturity and confidence that was very appealing.

  “Don’t tell me about it,” Tarren said. “So that there’s no risk of it being read from my mind.”

  “Hmm. Yes, we’d better not. Thank you,” Tyen replied.

  A look of disappointment crossed the old man’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous smile. “Besides, it’s more fun to guess.”

  “Guess what?” Rielle said as she pushed through the door to the atrium.

  “What you two are going to be up to next,” Tarren replied.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teased. Then she grew serious. “I’m sorry, Tarren, but what we do next must be done in private.”

  “I’ll make sure nobody interrupts,” Tarren said, getting up.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “Not at all, I’m sure.”

  She sighed and crossed her arms disapprovingly. Grinning broadly, the old man left the atrium. Rielle waited a little longer after the door had closed, then unfolded her arms and dropped something into Tyen’s lap. “With thanks from Qall,” she told him.

  Tyen stared at her, then picked up the object. It was a small package wrapped in cloth tied with string. The size and weight were about right. He tore the string off, grabbed the edge of the cloth and lifted. A well-worn satchel slipped out and landed in his lap.

  Vella!

  Suddenly he was overcome with hesitation and a lingering guilt at abandoning his promise to create a body for her. The repellent experience of trying to resurrect Valhan was part of that decision. Mostly it had been realising, thanks to Qall, that much of her personality was actually his own expectations reflected back at him. To make her whole again wouldn’t put the person he thought she was into a body. Instead it would destroy most of what she was to make an almost entirely new human.

  And then it had been so obvious that Qall needed her more than him.

  Clearly that was no longer true. He felt a surge of gratitude to the young man for giving her back when he didn’t have to. She had passed from carrier to carrier for thousands of years.

  What would it be like to own her again? Would it be the same? Once he touched her, she would know everything he had done and learned in the last five cycles. But I have fewer new secrets in my head now than all those from the past. She, on the other hand, would have absorbed a great deal in that time. She had all of Qall’s memories. For him to trust me with all that… He felt a wave of surprise and gratitude.

  Qall’s memories weren’t the only new content within her. The Raen’s were in there too now, transferred there by Qall. Everything Valhan knew is available to anyone who reads her. That thought was sobering, and he realised that it wasn’t just his trust that Qall had given him. He has given me the responsibility of ensuring that knowledge doesn’t reach the wrong hands.

  Maybe that was why Liftre had sent sorcerers to kill Tyen. Maybe they knew that Vella was back in Tyen’s hands and hoped to steal her. But how could they know that? They didn’t even know she contained Valhan’s memories. Only Rielle and Qall knew. Unless Qall had told someone…

  “Does that change your plans?” Rielle asked.

  “No,” Tyen replied. “No, if anything it means I must find a secure hiding place sooner rather than later.” He looked up. “It means it is time I returned to my world, and I’d be honoured and very much in your debt if you would come with me to restore it.”

  CHAPTER 4

  A sparse forest landscape surrounded Tyen and Rielle. When he’d first visited this world, he’d been surrounded by snow and bare trees, but now green predominated. Yet as they emerged, cold air prickled his skin. The air smelt familiar, which surprised him. He’d stayed with the local people for several days after arriving in their world, but not long enough, he’d have thought, to remember how this world smelt. Still, his first experience of a world other than his own had been both profound and frightening, so perhaps that was why the details had lingered in his mind.

  To sense so much magic around him had been a shock, as was being able to read minds. What he’d already learned from Vella about other worlds had proved inadequate. He’d been asking the wrong kinds of questions. The people who had adopted him had very strong ideas about sharing personal possessions, so he’d kept Vella hidden, which gave him few opportunities to consult her. They treated him like a cross between a holy man and a child, feeding and protecting him, often laughing at him, but also encouraging him whenever he used magic.

  During the time he’d stayed here, it had not occurred to him to wonder how the vegetation could be the same as that of his world. Now he knew that it was a sign that humans had travelled to his world more often in the past, distributing plants and animals either deliberately or unintentionally. Did humans spread from, or to, Leratia? he wondered. He doubted his home was the original source of humans. The history of Leratia didn’t stretch back as far as that of some worlds. Where did we originally come from? Would it be possible to trace humankind back to one location if someone studied the histories of all worlds, digging deep into the past of those that had been inhabited the longest and looking for a pattern?

  “Is this your home world?” Rielle asked.

  She was watching him closely, no doubt noting his hesitation. He shook his head, at the same time bringing his thoughts back to the present. “The next,” he told her.

  She squeezed his hand lightly. Communicating reassurance, he guessed. It had been so long since he’d been unable to read anyone’s mind, it was taking some time to get used to reading mannerisms again. She might mean that she was ready, or that he would be fine. Or both.

  He ought to be easing her worries, not she easing his. She’d listened to all his warnings about Leratian prejudices against women and other races. He’d told her about Veroo and Sezee, the Princess and h
er niece who had travelled to Beltonia seeking schooling in magic only to be turned away by the Academy – and establishments such as hotels and the like – because of their gender and race. To her question whether he should change her skin colour to make their task easier, he’d said no. Leratians, indeed the whole world, would be in her debt once she restored magic, and it would help a great many people if their saviour was a brown-skinned woman.

  Making sure that this fact could never be erased from history was part of his increasingly complicated plan.

  Squeezing her hand back in thanks, he drew in a breath to signal that she should too, then when she had, he pushed into the place between worlds. He could feel their fresh track leading back the way they’d come. Ignoring it, he sought a faint sign of a fifteen-cycle-old one.

  In vain, however. Nothing remained of his earlier path out of his world. The substance of the place between worlds, like magic within worlds, eventually evened out, smoothing over any signs of passage. It would have been reassuring to follow a trace of his former journey to where he’d left his world, but he shouldn’t need one. As long as he left this world from near where he’d arrived in it, he should return to a place close to where he had exited his own.

  Which was a prospect he’d been dreading. Knowing that he would see the remains of Spirecastle roused memories of its fall and a guilt he’d never completely shaken since that day. Though he knew with certainty that it had been Kilraker who had stripped the magic within the tower, causing its structure to fail, he still felt partly to blame. If he hadn’t been at Spirecastle, Kilraker would never have been there either. Tyen had brought the source of destruction to its door. He should never have cooperated with the man.

  He knew he and Rielle had reached the midpoint between worlds when all signs of the forest had disappeared, but as he travelled onwards no new features appeared. They ought to be seeing a cliff to one side, a flat plain to the other, and the ruins of Spirecastle surrounded by hills, roads and houses below. Rielle looked at him, questioning. He frowned and shook his head, but did not want to voice his worries.

  Had something happened to his world? He’d heard about worlds vanishing after a cataclysmic natural disaster. Should he retreat, and try to re-enter from somewhere else?