The Librarian swallowed, then sighed. “As Qall said, it’s your choice, Director.”
Tyen turned back to the record. “Then I say it should be done. As the Librarian and expert on ancient treasures of the Academy, you should do it, Rytan Kep. Carefully.”
“Of course.” The Librarian slid along the rock until he was central to the alcove, Qall and Rielle moving out of the way. He stared intently at the record. Turning to watch the gold plates, Tyen held his breath as the leftmost one began to move. As it slowly revolved, the links tightened and the next plate began to turn, and as that turned it moved the next. In this way, from the left to the right, Kep slowly flipped the whole record over.
The rear of the first two plates were blank, sending a stab of disappointment through Tyen. The third held one glyph. The fourth, however, revealed writing of the same size as that on the front of the plates. Tyen let his breath out slowly as more and more of the text was revealed. Turning his head, he called back to Annad.
“Bring Vella!”
“Yes, Director!” the young man replied.
A short silence followed, then the sound of Annad’s clothes scraping across stone. As he reached Tyen he lifted the strap of Vella’s satchel off his head and handed it over. With slightly trembly hands, Tyen drew her out, held her up and began examining the marks closely.
Qall moved closer so he could see the text forming on Vella’s pages. The young man remained silent, not giving anything away. Tyen worked as fast as he dared, wanting answers but wary of missing something. When his gaze had finally settled on the last character, he let out a sigh of relief.
“What does it say? What does it say?” Rielle whispered.
Tyen looked eagerly at the pages before him.
What do you make of it, Vella?
Letters formed.
It is upside down, of course, she replied. But otherwise the same script as before. I will translate from here…
He read the words aloud for the others’ benefit. In several places they interrupted to seek clarification, and a few times he paused to exchange a puzzled look with them. When he’d finished, Rielle let out a small huff of frustration.
“I expect it will only make sense when you do it,” Tyen told her.
“I hope so,” Qall agreed. “Because if someone wanted to destroy a Maker, this would be a clever way to do so.”
A chill ran down Tyen’s spine as he saw the truth of that. The method was not dissimilar to that for learning pattern-shifting, which would make Rielle ageless but also remove her Maker ability. The instructions claimed that the differences would allow her to retain her particular gift. They said that she would have a new part added to her mind, and in doing so she would not quite be human any more. The tone of the text held a hint of warning, perhaps even disapproval, calling the change unnatural.
“It may have been written for a Maker who has never been ageless before,” Rielle pointed out. “I’ve been ageless, then returned to being a Maker. In fact, I made myself a far stronger Maker.” She pursed her lips. “I think I could restore my Maker ability again, if I failed.”
“If you haven’t used all the magic of a world trying to follow these instructions,” Tyen pointed out.
She shook her head. “All I had to do last time was sketch on a wall to generate enough magic to do it.” She smiled at him. “As you know, it’s the learning of pattern-shifting that takes so much magic. Using it takes not much at all.”
Tyen nodded. “That’s true. But will you need plenty of magic to relearn pattern-shifting?”
She frowned. “Yes. Fortunately, while I have my Maker ability I create more than enough to do that.”
Qall shifted restlessly. “Let’s return to a more comfortable room to speculate on this.” He looked over to Kep. “I suggest you turn the plates over again. It would be wise to hide instructions on how to become a god, even if the circumstances in which it can occur prove to be extremely rare.”
“A god?” Rielle shook her head. “I wouldn’t be a god.”
“You wouldn’t be human any more,” Qall pointed out.
“But not a god. Just a slightly altered human.”
“Some cultures would consider you a demon,” Kep added quietly. He shrugged as they all looked at him. “People’s ideas are as diverse as the worlds are infinite and diverse.”
“Then let’s hope that idea isn’t a common one,” Tyen said.
Kep nodded. He shifted towards Tyen, preparing to take his place and flip the scroll back over. “You can find your way back?”
Once in the vault again, Rielle and Qall did not speak, both standing silent and preoccupied. Annad regarded them nervously, wondering how he’d had the fortune, good or bad, to be in this place and moment, with three of the worlds’ most powerful sorcerers, all rendered speechless by what they had just learned. Eventually, Rielle shrugged.
“I have to try this,” she said. “It might be our only way to stop Kettin.”
“It’s too risky,” Qall disagreed. “We can’t risk losing your unique skills right now. We will find another way to defeat Kettin. She is not as strong as we. She can be killed. Her machines will be an ongoing threat, but they can be defeated.” He looked at Tyen. “And the inventors may still come up with a mechanical solution.”
Rielle turned to face Qall. “Yes, it’s a risk, but if it leads to fewer people being killed it’s worth taking.”
“Not if it leaves the worlds without a Maker.”
“It won’t. I can always change back if I fail.”
“You can’t be sure of that.” He took a step towards her. “At least take some time to consider the implications.”
“How long? Each moment we wait, thousands die.”
“That is not your fault.”
“No, but doing nothing when I could have helped is almost as bad,” she told him. “This is my decision. You know that I’ll try it eventually, when I’m old and dying.” Her lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Kettin was right about that. So I may as well try it now.”
Qall straightened. “You’ll need an ageless sorcerer to help you,” he pointed out. “Someone more powerful than you.”
“More, or equal,” Rielle reminded him, moving closer to Tyen.
Qall looked from her to Tyen. “Tyen needs to stay here and work on the machine solution.”
Rielle looked at Tyen expectantly. He regarded them both, considering their views, weighing his options.
“Actually, I don’t,” he told Qall. “I have people far smarter than me working on the problem, and with a common threat to unite and occupy the Academy, it is back to running itself quite well.”
Qall scowled. “If it is a long process, who will protect or evacuate your world should Kettin invade in the meantime?”
“I had hoped you—”
“On my own?” Qall’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“Well, if you can’t, what hope have I got?”
“Not much, but you do have one advantage: your people will follow you. Not me.” Qall glanced at Rielle. “Just as you could not unite and lead the Restorers again as easily as Rielle and I can. We can’t hang about here. We must gather our allies and continue the fight or there will soon be nobody left to use your inventors’ solution on the machines.”
“Perhaps Tyen and I could work the change here,” Rielle injected. “There would be no risk of us being recognised and our path traced back to this world. Tyen could watch over the inventors at the same time and—”
“No,” Qall said firmly. “If you do this, you must go to an unoccupied world.”
Tyen winced. He turned to Rielle. “He has a point. If you fail, you leave my world vulnerable.”
She looked at Tyen, her lips twitching as if she wanted to object, then turned back to Qall. “I’m not going with you. I will stay here, so that if Tyen’s world is attacked it has some hope of surviving long enough to find a solution to the machines.”
“But we need your ability to make mag
ic!”
“Not until you go into battle. You don’t need my help in gathering the Restorers together. Or to make plans for how to fight Kettin. But when you do, don’t dismiss Tyen’s idea of trapping her in an isolated world. It might be the best idea we have. Or the worst.” The stare she levelled at him was challenging. “In the end, it’s my decision, so you had better come back with a good argument for me not becoming an Ancient… or demon… or whatever we decide to call it.”
Qall held her gaze for a few moments before nodding. “I’ll consider it. As long as you also consider the possible pitfalls, and alternatives, to what you want to do before you try anything.”
She crossed her arms. “Of course I will. Do you really think I wouldn’t?”
“I’m not sure,” Qall replied softly, his eye narrowing. “At least agree to wait until I’ve had time to think it over – until I come back.”
Rielle nodded reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll wait.”
Qall smiled, somehow instantly shifting back into his usual friendly, obliging demeanour.
“Well then,” he said. He turned to Tyen. “Is there anything else you need to know or want to tell me before I go?”
Tyen considered, then shook his head. “But please do leave from the same path you entered along.”
Qall nodded. “Of course.” He glanced up. “I should talk to Zeke before I go.”
“No need,” Rielle said. “I’ll do it.”
The young man’s lips pressed together. “Then I guess I shouldn’t delay leaving any longer.”
CHAPTER 20
Tyen paused to look around the Grand Hall, taking advantage of a rare moment of quiet to be still for a moment. Little sounds he would not normally notice soon came to his attention. The shuffle of the watchers as they wondered why he was still standing there. The distant hum of the city. A muffled buzz from somewhere beyond the Academy walls he couldn’t place.
He thought back to the last conversation he’d had with Qall a few days ago, before the young man had left.
Looking around the hall, Qall had sighed. “She’s mad at me,” he’d said. “I thought she’d see me off before she went to talk to Zeke. Do you think I am wrong, telling her not to attempt the transformation?”
Tyen had smiled. “No. But I’m not sure you have the right to tell her what to do, either.”
“Not as the leader of the Restorers?”
“Did she swear loyalty to them?”
“No.” Lines of worry creased Qall’s brow. “I guess I took it for granted. I took her for granted. Have I lost her support?”
“I don’t think so,” Tyen had assured him. “She will always feel a little responsible for you.”
Qall had let out a small snort. “Yes, well, I’m not that foolish young man she took to the edges of the worlds. She’s not my guardian any more.”
“That doesn’t automatically make you her leader, either,” Tyen had pointed out. “I’d say you have to earn that right, but I have to ask: does she want or need someone telling her what to do? I think she’s had enough of that from Baluka.”
The young man’s eyebrows had risen as he’d considered that. “You’re right.” His lips had pressed together into a grim line. “Others need me to be that leader more than she does. I must work with what I have.” He’d then drawn in a deep breath, then let it out. “I can’t wait any longer. The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll find and reunite the Restorers.”
And then he had gone, leaving the hall as empty as it was now. And Tyen had paused to notice the quietness then…
… which had not included the distant buzzing noise he was picking up now. It was not the sort of sound normally associated with the city. As it continued, he realised it must be considerably louder outside. Extending his senses, he sought and found the mind of someone outside on the street.
They were gazing in awe and fear at a contraption circling above the city. It was no aircart, since instead of a capsule above the chassis there was a flat, broad paddle-like shape. At once, a memory leapt into Tyen’s mind of a similar contraption sliding off a ramp over a precipice. He drew in a sharp breath, then hurried towards the main doors.
At the same time, he searched for minds above. His heart leapt as he found them, and he laughed out loud with joy. Mig, and the young man’s wife, perched within the glider’s capsule, were searching the ground for a place to land. In Mig’s mind Tyen read what they needed: a long flat area. And if they didn’t find one soon, they’d have to fly away and hope to find something in the surrounding country.
Tyen reached the doors, pushed through and scanned the sky. He found the small craft circling above the Academy. Glancing around, he realised that nothing within the city matched their requirements. Unless…
A crowd of onlookers had filled the street before the Academy, effectively stopping the traffic. Tyen hurried down the stairs. He did not stop to wonder how he would persuade hundreds of people to obey him. If he hesitated, he might lose confidence. Instead, as he arrived at the Academy gates, he drew a deep breath and pushed through them.
“Back!” he shouted. “Make room!”
The closest people heard and turned to stare at him. As he repeated the order they began to retreat. Some even started instructing the people behind them. Slowly, then faster as more realised what was happening, a gap formed in the centre of the road.
More voices rose above the buzz of the glider and crowd. He looked around to see familiar faces among those urging people to get off the road: professors, teachers and other Academy staff – and even a group of the Emperor’s guards. A small crowd had formed on the steps of the institution as other Academy members emerged to see what was going on.
Now the clearing progressed more swiftly. Tyen paused to look up, seeking Mig’s mind. The young man was watching, thinking that even if Tyen managed to get the whole street clear he was not going to have much space to land, particularly as a sign for a store projected over the street about halfway along.
Seeking the obstacle, Tyen found it easily. He gathered magic and sent out a push of air. The signposts groaned as they were forced aside.
Mig silently thanked Tyen, drew a deep breath and told his wife to hang on.
The glider circled away, turned, aligned with the street and began a rapid descent. It skimmed over the tops of the buildings, then dove. The crowd gave a collective gasp as the flying contraption swooped down and levelled out; then people surged back as they realised the wide paddle-like arms were going to pass very close by. Surprisingly small and delicate-looking wheels, extending from the vehicle’s underside, touched the ground. The glider bounced a few times, then settled down. There did not appear to be a brake, or any method of halting the vehicle except letting it roll to a stop, and yet it did slow, the means becoming clear as Tyen read Mig’s gratitude to his wife, Delt, who had skilfully thickened the air in front of them with magic to halt the glider gently.
Tyen hurried forward, smiling broadly. The buzz was still coming from the glider, but it abruptly quietened and the source was revealed to be propellers that had been spinning so quickly they’d blurred out of sight. A hatch opened in the side of the chassis and a folding ladder flipped out, then the front top half of the capsule hinged upwards, revealing the two drivers.
A cheer broke from the crowd, making Mig and Delt start and look around. They both began to grin and wave.
“Mig! Delt!” Tyen exclaimed as he reached the glider. “Welcome to Beltonia!”
The young man looked down. “Thank you, Director Ironsmelter!” He caught his wife’s sleeve. “This is Tyen,” he said in their native tongue. “You met briefly when you were at Spirecastle.”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember,” she replied. “It is good to meet you again,” she said to Tyen, then she turned back to her husband and murmured, “Can we get out? I have no feeling from my butt down.”
Mig chuckled and held out a hand to steady her as she stepped backwards out of the capsule, finding th
e rungs of the ladder, then nimbly descending. He followed, wincing and rubbing his rump as soon as his feet were on the ground, earning a laugh from the crowd. Then he took a small wooden triangular block of wood from a compartment in the side of the glider and wedged it behind a wheel.
“We’re not here on a social visit,” he said as he walked over to Tyen. He lowered his voice. “We heard that our world was in danger, so we’re here to help.”
“How did you…?” Tyen began, then left the question unfinished as he read the answer in Mig’s mind. Spies. The south liked to keep an eye on matters in the north. “Any assistance will be most welcome, though I will have to seek the Emperor’s permission before I make that official.”
“Of course.”
The noise of the crowd was growing louder, and people had begun to edge forward to get a closer look at the glider. Tyen beckoned to the Emperor’s guards, who immediately hurried over.
“Watch over this machine,” Tyen ordered. “Don’t let anybody touch it.”
The pair nodded gravely, then positioned themselves between the vehicle and the crowd, who read the warning in their stance and backed away.
Tyen turned back to Mig. “May I have my people move the glider into the Academy?”
Mig nodded. “Of course. It clearly can’t stay here. Delt will move it, though. She is very protective of it. Just get them to show her where.”
“I will.” Looking around, he spotted Halyn standing nearby. At a quick jerk of Tyen’s head the man came forward and waited as formal introductions were made. When they were done, Tyen turned to his assistant.
“Is there somewhere safe we can store Mig and Delt’s glider?”
Halyn’s eyes narrowed as he summed up the machine. “It should fit in one of the guest aircart hangars.”
“Delt will move it herself. Make sure nobody tries to touch it unless she requests help.”
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