Berre blinked, his eyebrows rising. “I can. It’s… more than words. It’s…”
Tyen turned back to the Director. “Tell me, Director Ophen, how many Academy treasures did you sell to pay for your houses? What else have you sold them to pay for?”
As Berre sucked in a breath, the Director went pale. He glanced at the other professors, who were watching him closely. “Lies,” he said. “It is a trick.”
“It certainly is not!” Berre declared angrily. “Ironsmelter has not done anything but show me how to see your thoughts. I see your guilt, as plain as if you confessed it. And more so, for I can feel it!”
“I, too,” a quiet voice added. Heads turned to the speaker, the quiet professor of Biology. Tyen saw that the man’s shock at being able to see Ophen’s thoughts was greater than at the man’s guilt. It is so easy, the man thought. What can be seen in my mind?
In the corner of Tyen’s eye he saw Berre lean forward and begin to focus on other professors’ minds. At once, Tyen reached out and stripped the room of magic.
All the sorcerers winced.
“I apologise. That was abrupt but necessary.” Tyen took a step forward. “In a world where minds can be read, strict rules of privacy need to be established. There are also ways to block one’s mind from examination. This is one of the many reasons you will need my guidance, once magic is restored.” Tyen looked at Ophen, whose gaze now slid away. “Shall I elaborate on the other reasons?”
The Director remained silent. After a moment, another of the professors replied:
“Yes. Please do.”
Tyen bowed his head for a moment as he considered where to start. He so wanted to tell them of what happened at Spirecastle, but Kilraker’s crime would make Ophen’s seem diminished and the story would not drive home the point he needed to make.
“When I left this world, I was as ignorant and vulnerable as you are,” Tyen told them. He looked up and saw how they bridled. “Yes, ignorant. It has been far too long since this world was in contact with those beyond it. The Academy has forgotten not just that other worlds exist, but the benefits and dangers of links to the outside.
“It became immediately apparent that I had a lot to learn about magic, so I joined a school well respected in the worlds. I paid for my tuition with the one kind of knowledge this school lacked: mechanical magic. You see, in our isolation, the sorcerers here developed something unique to the worlds: the unification of magic and machinery. As our invention slowly depleted this world of magic, we made our machines ever more efficient and clever. When I brought that knowledge to the worlds, it was the first new field of knowledge seen in thousands of years.
“Many sorcerers out in the worlds would be eager to visit the place in which mechanical magic was invented, if they knew where it was.” Tyen paused, noting the pride they could not help feeling even as they struggled to believe him. “Those I taught it to passed the knowledge on to others, and as the concept spread it developed further and, as so often is the case, was turned to uses both good and terrible. The latter includes war machines of brutal efficiency and horror.” He shook his head. “I do not doubt that many peoples of the worlds would try to destroy the place in which mechanical magic was invented, and the people who created it, if they knew where it was.”
A murmur of anger and fear began to rise, but Tyen raised his hands to forestall it. “You might be tempted to hide from such a threat, choosing to give up all magic for the safety of isolation. But you already suspect that Leratian society will go backwards, diminishing to a primitive state, without magic. You know many will starve, as food production slows. I am here to warn you: a dead world can still be found and entered, if a sorcerer is powerful enough. Letting this world’s magic run low will not save it, if it is discovered.” He let his arms fall. “If this world is restored, we will have enough magic to protect it from such visitors… as long as sufficient sorcerers within it know how to defend against sorcerers capable of wielding large amounts of magic.”
He shrugged. “I have told you this world will be renewed whatever you decide. I do not need your permission to start a school of magic. However, I do need your support if I am to run it here, as part of the Academy. If you elect me as your new Director, I promise to help the Academy adapt to the return of magic, teach sorcerers how to defend this world and, in future, give advice on matters of trade and alliances with the outside. The decision is yours.” He took a step back, noting the Governors’ varied expressions, from doubt to dismissal. “Do you have any questions?”
Nobody spoke. As the silence stretched, Tyen watched the Governors exchanging glances and felt doubts rising. Finally, he let out a little magic, ignoring Berre’s chuckle as minds became readable. He learned that all were hesitating not because they had nothing to say, or were reluctant to speak, but because most wanted to do so without Tyen there. Some feared what he would do if they spoke against him, others did not want to admit they had been persuaded by him while he was there, in case they looked like they were grovelling, or seeking to ally themselves with him. And then there was the matter of Ophen, who many thought should be dealt with first.
“I will leave you to discuss it,” he said, then glanced at Berre and Xarol, “and also to consult with these two fine men, who the Emperor has sent to make his wishes clear on the matter. I will return to my hotel room and await your response.”
With that, Tyen bent in a shallow bow, then turned away. He walked to the doors, opening them with a small push of magic from the other side, then closing them behind him once he was through.
Then he allowed himself a small, brief smile before heading back to the hotel, Rielle and his father.
CHAPTER 9
The expressions on the faces of Tyen’s father and Rielle could not be more opposite. Deid was beaming with pride as he looked around at the polished wood cabinets filled with old books and treasures. Rielle’s eyebrows were raised as she considered the small, dingy room with ill-concealed dismay.
“This is really what you want?” she asked in a low voice.
Tyen smiled. “Yes, though I’m planning to move the Director’s office to somewhere more easily accessible to visitors as soon as possible.”
“And a little more impressive, I hope.”
Deid regarded her loftily. “The Academy is foremost a place of learning and knowledge, not of displays of wealth or power.”
She turned to face him, nodding respectfully. “If I believed Tyen cared more about the latter I would not be helping him. However, his work will be easier if he is respected, and it will help him to earn that respect if his office conveys authority as well as responsibility.”
Tyen’s father pursed his lips. “I suppose I agree with that, but there is also the philosophy of the Academy to maintain.”
“The one that allowed it to help the Emperor conquer other lands and grow rich by taking their resources?” she asked.
Deid winced. “Some Academy members did protest during that time, but they dared not speak too loudly against the Emperor.”
She smiled and touched his shoulder gently. “That is all too often the case. I’m glad to hear someone tried, at least.”
Tyen looked from his father to Rielle. His heart had lifted at her first words. She believes my motives are good. Did that mean she trusted him again? It’s not the same thing. He was all too aware that he was relying on her a great deal. If she changed her mind about helping him, he’d have to abandon his plan to establish a safe place here for his students. He’d be laughed at for his grand unfulfilled promises. It would likely lose him respect, his new position, and he’d probably have to leave his world out of shame.
Respect. Yes, it was important. As the pair turned to regard him, he glanced around the office. “The plainness of this room does seem like false humility now, considering Ophen’s theft from the Academy. I have seen similar guilt in the minds of more than a few professors since he was arrested. He was not the only one selling treasures.”
> “Kilraker was doing the same,” his father reminded him. “Sometimes people only join in a minor criminal activity because everyone else seems to be doing it.”
“And yet they made such a fuss about Tyen taking Vella,” Rielle mused.
“I’d wager she is more valuable and dangerous than anything the professors sold,” Tyen pointed out. “They would have sold items that wouldn’t be missed.”
Deid nodded. “But were there pieces more valuable than they realised? Something they didn’t understand. I wonder if there are any records of what was bought by whom.”
“I doubt it, but I could order an investigation.”
“Make it official and all traces of evidence may disappear,” Rielle warned.
A chime brought their attention to a small, ornate clock on the desk; then they looked up and exchanged glances. Tyen’s heart had quickened at the sound, and his father’s eyes were suddenly bright.
“I still can’t believe you convinced almost everyone to make you Director,” Deid said. “Especially the Emperor.”
“He seems like a smart man,” Rielle replied, “who has foreseen all the ways this could go, and chosen the path of least conflict. Perhaps he is also excited by the prospect of a revived and changed world – and not just because he may benefit from it. He does care about his people.”
“That is good to know.” Deid frowned. “Though maybe not for Tyen. I will worry even more that he will try to get rid of you, my son. You hold too much power.”
Tyen nodded. “He has no plans to at the moment, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t in future, if the threat I pose outweighs the benefits of having me around.”
“He’ll be looking for signs of weakness that he can exploit should you come into conflict,” Deid warned.
“As we inevitably will, I expect.” Tyen sighed.
“You should let him find one,” Rielle advised. “Something that appears to be a weakness but isn’t.”
They paused as a knock interrupted them. With a small application of magic, Tyen opened the door. One of the Academy message-carriers hovered nervously in the opening.
“They’ve left the palace, Director Tyen,” the young man said.
“Thank you, Simel,” Tyen replied. A look of surprise and puzzlement crossed the messenger’s face, as he wondered how Tyen had learned his name when he was new to the job. “You may go.”
As the boy hurried away, Tyen stood up and straightened his clothing. “Well, we had best make our way to the Grand Hall.”
“Can’t keep the Emperor waiting,” Deid agreed.
Once they were in the corridor, they remained silent. The details of the coming ceremony had been decided already, as well as how they would act if something did not go to plan. As they neared the Grand Hall the hum of hundreds of voices reached them, growing louder as they arrived at a side entrance. When the side doors to the ornate room opened, the sound rolled out over them, but not for long. As their arrival was announced, it became a hushed murmur.
Tyen paused. Even after everything that had happened to him these last fifteen cycles, he still found being the object of such attention disquieting. He looked at Rielle. She appeared elegant and otherworldly, clad in a silvery grey dress in the cut of Belton fashion, and with no ornament but the familiar silver lozenge pendant at her throat and a plain silver clip holding her long dark hair up in a neat arrangement upon her head. More eyes would be following her than him, he decided. As he glanced at Deid, his father smiled and stepped aside.
Ignoring the crowd, Tyen entered the hall and walked, with Rielle at his side, down the length of it towards the main doors. The interior was utterly empty of magic, to ensure the Emperor’s mind could not be read, and Tyen had agreed not to release any more during the ceremony unless magical defence was needed. The Emperor’s requirements were to be expected. It would not have surprised Tyen if Omniten had decided the world must not be restored in order to keep his thoughts private, but the ruler believed that it was a sacrifice he must make, and he would be able to find other ways to protect his privacy and secrets.
The main doors were open. As Tyen and Rielle stepped outside, two lines of royal guards in the palace’s elaborate formal uniform, bordering the stairs to the main street, came into sight. Beyond the open Academy gates, the street was crowded with onlookers hoping to see the Emperor, kept to either side of the road by city guards.
A roar of cheers rose from this audience, but as far as Tyen could see, nothing had changed. The faces of the crowd were turned towards the Academy, not the direction the royal carriage would arrive from. He glanced behind, looking for the source of their excitement.
“It’s you, Tyen,” Rielle murmured.
He looked at her in disbelief, only to catch a brief, amused smile.
“You haven’t skimmed the minds of your people lately, have you?” she said. “You’ve become quite the hero – a poor commoner with a rare gift who explored the worlds and has come back to save everyone, rich and poor alike.”
He snorted. “I wasn’t poor.”
“No, but you weren’t rich and powerful either. Wave to them. See what they do.”
Though it seemed a little silly, he lifted a hand, turning to include all in the gesture. At once, a cheer rose, louder than the last.
Rielle chuckled. “See?”
He gave her a sidelong look. “Your turn.”
Her smirk faded. One eye narrowed. Then she straightened and raised a hand. Another, though quieter, cheer broke from the audience. She smiled. “They don’t really know much about me, other than that I am a sorcerer from another world, who looks very different to them.”
He nodded. “We should address that. They need to know they will have you to thank for restoring their world, not me.”
He had wanted her to generate magic in a public place, so that as many people as possible would see they owed the return of magic to a dark-skinned woman, and perhaps would not be so prejudiced towards women or people of other races in future. The Emperor’s advisers and protectors had firmly disagreed with the plan. Their priority was to ensure that everyone understood that the Academy was the place for matters of magic. It was easier to see to the Emperor’s safety between walls than in the open, too. Tyen would have to be content with a few hundred people from the most powerful families, as well as diplomats from around the empire, witnessing Rielle’s miraculous act.
She shrugged. “I don’t mind if they don’t. You are the one who arranged for it to be done, after all.”
“But—”
“Here comes the Emperor,” she said.
Sure enough, a large carriage had turned into the street. It was entirely gilded, glinting in the sunlight like a ridiculously large but somehow still grand and imposing sweets jar. This was Tyen and Rielle’s cue to descend the stairs. He turned and bowed to Rielle before offering his arm. As he’d instructed, she did not dip in reply before hooking her hand under his elbow. The newssheet writers who wrote about etiquette would note this, as would those dedicated to women’s interests. Those concerned with matters of immigration and the purity of Leratian blood-lines would too, and would express their indignation. He knew change wouldn’t happen without resistance, even change for the betterment of all.
The carriage reached the gate just as they did. When it had come to a stop, the stepman jumped down and placed a small set of stairs before the door. Emperor Omniten emerged, accompanied by more cheers. The ruler – or perhaps his advisers on ceremony – had chosen a suit of old-fashioned style and cut, and Tyen had to admit the modern clothing the man usually wore suited him better. A walking cane was tucked under one arm. Once on the ground, the man turned and extended his hand to assist a woman out. She wore a dress with an old-fashioned skirt and a contemporary bodice, both in a fabric dyed a rich red only achievable with one of the modern dyes.
Tyen and Rielle emerged to meet them at the base of the stairs. There, after bows and long and formal greetings, he and Rielle parted so that she
walked beside the Empress and he beside the Emperor, as they climbed the stairs to the Academy doors.
“Ividian cannot stop talking about what he saw in our neighbouring worlds,” Omniten told Tyen. “He is most impressed.”
“I am fortunate that the worlds next to this contain some unusual landscapes and animals, and cities of a size and sophistication that they could not possibly be mistaken for those of this world. If we did not have such interesting neighbours it would have been difficult to convince him we’d left this world at all.”
“I would like to visit these places one day.”
Tyen glanced at the Emperor. “I imagine such a tour would be far more complicated to arrange and involve many more assistants than Ividian’s short trip.”
The Emperor chuckled. “Indeed, it would, as well as much research. I would not like to give the wrong impression to those who rule these cities and lands.”
“Could such an adventure wait until matters in the Academy are somewhat more settled?”
“It can and should. Don’t worry; I am not going to risk the stability of one of the empire’s greatest institutions out of desire for a holiday.”
“For that I am immensely grateful.”
“Yes, I imagine your hands are rather full at the moment.” Omniten looked up at the open doors of the Grand Hall. “How are you settling in? Have the professors given you any trouble?”
“Better than expected, but not without upheaval, your Imperial Majesty. As you can imagine, my appointment has not been received without objections. Some have left; some have stayed. A few are a little too eager to gain my favour, others are waiting to see if I survive for long before making any moves.”
“No surprises then.”
“Little will change in the studies of non-magical fields, of course, so those Heads only required reassurance. As for the Heads of magical studies… I have warned them to brace for change. Their new magical abilities will require new laws and etiquette, and they had best curb their enthusiasm for using them until they understand their new vulnerabilities as well as their strengths. I also warned them I will not allow disorder and selfish opportunism to ruin this ancient institution.”
Maker's Curse Page 19
