They reached a patchy road and ascended towards low hills. The day grew older and the sun’s heat grew less comfortable. She wanted to suggest they levitate to move faster but trusted that Tyen would have already suggested it if it were safe to do so.
The hills drew closer, like arms drawing in on either side. They entered a cosy valley, the road surface succumbing to so much plant invasion it forced them to follow a small stream instead.
“Is that sunfruit?” Rielle asked as she spotted orange globes hanging from a tree. She plucked one and sniffed. “It certainly smells like it.”
“In my world we call it depple,” Tyen told her. “There are several edible species here that I’ve seen in cultivation in other worlds. I’ve seen decorations and lettering on the walls in the city that remind me of an ancient civilisation that once occupied part of my world. I suspect the same people lived here. Maybe the people of my world originally came from here.”
“If this place is still capable of producing food, why is it deserted?”
“It’s not entirely deserted,” Tyen told her. “There are remnant populations far from here, but they have reverted to simpler and somewhat barbaric ways of life. In neighbouring worlds, they tell stories of how the people here died from five calamities: drought, sickness of crops and animals, starvation, human diseases, and warfare.” He shook his head. “Of course, they also blame various groups or races for offending the gods.”
“What do you think was the cause?”
Tyen shrugged. “Too many people. They couldn’t feed everyone, so they either left and colonised other worlds or they starved.”
She looked at the sunfruit. “And now there is food but nobody to eat it.”
They continued a little further, then stopped to eat and drink at the edge of a pond.
“Will this do, do you think?” Tyen asked.
Rielle looked around and nodded. It was a quiet area, protected from wind by the steep banks of the valley. The water and food would help sustain them if her transformation attempt took longer than planned. Shrugging off her pack, she walked over to a rock beside the pool and sat down. From there she had a view down the valley to the city, with the creek meandering in the foreground.
“It’s been a while since I painted a landscape,” she said. “This should be challenging – which will definitely put me in the right frame of mind. You may as well get comfortable. I want to make plenty of magic.”
Tyen pulled a blanket out of his pack, draped it on the ground nearby and sat down. She set up a small easel and placed a cloth-covered frame upon it, then set out her paints. Tyen had taken her to a tiny shop in Beltonia that catered to artists. Oily paint had been developed centuries before and was available in convenient pre-mixed form in tins. The cloth-covered boards were a surface that she hadn’t used before, but the shopkeeper had enthused about the springy surface so much that she had given in to his urges to try it.
As she started to work, Tyen gave a quiet gasp. She knew he was detecting the magic that was flowing out of her, but she kept her attention on her work.
If anyone does visit this world now, they’ll definitely know I’m here, she mused. Nothing could be done about that. Nothing except work fast, so that she would use up the magic as soon as possible.
The scene was as challenging as she’d expected. She had not painted a landscape in a long time and was unfamiliar with the frames, but the oily paint allowed her to throw down colour without having to worry about it drying too quickly to blend. When the colours in one area blended too much and became muddy, she scraped them off and started again. Then she couldn’t get the texture of the grass to look convincing, so she grabbed a twig and tried scratching grooves in the paint.
Finally, she reached that point where she knew that if she worked much more, she would spoil the areas that were working well. She’d just have to accept the areas that weren’t. Turning away from the painting, she began cleaning her brushes. A soft scrape reminded her of Tyen’s presence, and she looked up to find him peering at the frame and easel from the side.
“Can I have a look?”
“Of course.” She stepped aside, rubbing and stretching stiff muscles. Sunlight was no longer beating down from above but filtering through trees on one side of the valley. Soon the space they were in would be filled with shadows.
“It’s really good.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“You’re too critical.”
She laughed softly. “You’re too easy to please!”
He straightened, his head tilting a little to one side. “Would you rather I was harder to please?”
A teasing look had entered his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and she looked away. She almost cursed Qall for putting ideas into her head. But I’ve been falling back in love with Tyen for some time now, she realised. Maybe I never properly fell out of love; I just resisted it because I was so angry with him, even though I knew why he did what he did, and thought I’d forgiven him. She recalled the words that had chased away the last of her distrust. “Because it’s your choice. Your life. Your body. Your risk to take. You’re not just the Maker. You are Rielle.”
“You’re better at portraits,” he amended, “but I’m sure that’s only because it’s what you paint most of the time.”
She nodded and glanced towards the sun. “And the light source doesn’t move and change everything. We should eat before it gets dark.”
Which meant her transformation must begin at night. A hollow, nervous feeling bloomed in her stomach. Had she made enough magic? She focused on the magic within the world. An intense brightness surrounded her, so dazzling that she could not sense any depth to it. “That’s strange. I can’t sense how far the magic stretches.”
A laugh burst from Tyen. “That’s because there is so much it overwhelms the senses.” He paused. “I wonder what would happen if we left the world like this?”
Rielle shook her head. “Even if I don’t need all this magic, I’ll leave this world as we found it. If worlds that have been weak for a long time produce strong sorcerers when they’re restored, I could create another Kettin.”
“You and I also come from weak worlds. We aren’t murderous world-conquerors.”
“Perhaps we are the exceptions. But even if we aren’t, one Kettin has a much greater effect on the worlds than a hundred Rielles or Tyens.”
“That is true.”
She sighed. “Well, we had better get started. If someone passes through and notices how powerful this world is now, they might look around for the reason and find us.”
Tyen examined the ground. “Are you okay with sitting on a blanket?”
She nodded. Tyen left the easel and they walked over to the blanket together. They sat facing each other, close enough to link hands.
“What next?” Tyen asked.
“I will open my mind to yours and begin creating. Hopefully you’ll be able to see the part of my pattern that makes me a Maker. Once you see it, copy it into the magic of this world.” She smiled. “If you’re not sure how, I’ll think about what I did at the start of Valhan’s resurrection.”
Tyen looked doubtful, perhaps even a little afraid.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “This bit is easy. Ready?”
He nodded. “You?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She straightened her back and closed her eyes. “Let’s get started.”
Opening her mind was surprisingly difficult, because she couldn’t detect when it was. She had to ask Tyen several times if he could see her thoughts before she got it right. Her natural urge to close it again took over then and it was a battle to keep it open. She was too used to having privacy, and only Qall being able to see her thoughts. She told herself to imagine it was Qall reading her mind instead of Tyen and was amused to find her mind gave up trying to block her thoughts as if it couldn’t be bothered doing so when there was nothing to gain.
To ensure she would not lapse into blocking Tyen at some vital m
oment, she waited to see if it would close again. As she did this, she spent a while thinking through what she needed to do next. Five cycles had passed since she had been able to pattern-shift, and it was ten cycles since she had begun her attempt to resurrect Valhan, so her memory of both was fuzzy. To her surprise, Tyen opened his mind to confirm and correct what she recalled of the former, and allow her to see if he understood her explanation of the latter.
Once they were sure they each understood both processes, they paused – and shared an almost wordless feeling of affection for each other, as if each other’s mind had sensed love and leapt forward to say “me too!”
Yet the moment was refracted an instant later by fear. She saw that he was afraid of what this transformation would do to her, but as she examined his anxiety, she was relieved to see it wasn’t a fear of her, but fear for her. He wanted her to become ageless again. He still wished for a long life together, and though he could extend her life as they had both been doing for Tarren, he did not know how long that could be sustained without unintentional alterations changing her.
And yet… to become ageless and retain her Maker ability would alter her too. It would make her more than human. He feared she would become a different person. Someone he wouldn’t like. Someone who wouldn’t like him.
Everything we do, everything we see, everything done to us changes us, she told him. You can’t stop that change.
I know, but I don’t have to be happy about it.
Perhaps if we change together…
You want me to make this transformation too? Is that even possible?
It might be. She had changed herself into a powerful Maker. Why wouldn’t she be able to change someone else into one? Even as she thought it, she sensed Tyen’s dislike of the idea.
Being a Maker of your strength stops you doing what you love – creating – because you might make too much magic, he thought. I would not wish that on you, and I think you would not wish that on me.
No, she agreed. With that thought came a pang of both fondness and sadness. He understood this about her, but so long as she was the sole Maker she would be one of a kind. Alone.
Not alone, he told her. Just… unique.
As we all are, really, she added. She sensed his agreement, and acceptance. And the nagging tension that was his worry for his world, and all the worlds. Let’s delay no longer. It is time to begin. Look for the part of my mind that makes magic as I create.
Opening her eyes, she created sparks and sent them swirling in patterns.
I see it, Tyen told her.
That was quick!
The next bit won’t be.
She continued Making, slowly and steadily. She couldn’t sense Tyen copying her pattern into the magic of the world, so she concentrated only on making patterns. Time stretched on. She stopped trying to guess how much slipped by and stretched before them. After a while Tyen asked her to do something different, so she drew lines in the dirt beside the blanket. She hoped this meant he was testing his work, and was nearly done, but he said nothing more. Over and over she smoothed the dirt and started tracing a new pattern until she had lost count of how many times she’d begun again. A calm spread through her not unlike what she’d sensed in the minds of monks and priestesses meditating. The dangers of the world existed elsewhere. It was comforting, and she began to wish Tyen wouldn’t finish and disturb it. But eventually he would…
“I think that’s it.”
Reluctantly, she looked up at him. “You’re done?”
He nodded. “I muddled it a few times and had to begin again. Fortunately, you made so much magic before that it didn’t matter. And you were making more, so that helped too. What next?”
She yawned. “You have to duplicate the Maker part of my mind. The instructions said I’d do it, but I can’t see how when I’ve lost the understanding of pattern-shifting and the Maker part would be gone if I had regained it.”
“We’ll work it out.” He paused. “It’s cold. I’ll get your blanket.”
She glanced around them. It was dark. An intense band of stars dominated the sky. She stared at them, the lingering calm drawing her into their patterns. Tyen jolted her back into awareness as he draped the blanket around her shoulders. With the weight of it came a sense of urgency.
I can’t waste time, she reminded herself. Tyen needs to get back to his world. Kettin is out there destroying everything.
She drew in a deep breath, let it out and turned her attention to the present. Tyen, reading her thought, saw that she was ready.
I think this will be easier for you if the Maker part of your mind isn’t active, he suggested.
Taking his advice, she focused on the thing furthest from her own mind: his thoughts. She saw him push aside fear and doubt and draw magic to use. He looked at the pattern of her mind and understood it, and through his mind, for the first time in five cycles, so did she.
They both drew in a sharp breath of realisation. This was how she would duplicate her mind. She would use his understanding of it to make the change.
A spark of excitement enlivened their thoughts. She set to work. He looked where she needed him to look, enabling her to change and alter. Their first attempts were failures, but nothing they could not undo together. Finally, they hit upon a method that worked. It was the oddest sensation, her concentration and will undisturbed by a simultaneous blooming new awareness. This understanding matched and mirrored Tyen’s, and it was deeply familiar.
And then it was all there, new but as natural as all the other parts of her mind that allowed her to do everything from simple tasks to drawing and using magic. Once again, she understood how to change patterns – her own or that of other living things’.
Once again, she was ageless.
She opened her eyes, met Tyen’s gaze and smiled. His eyes were bright, but his returning smile was hesitant.
Are you sure you can still make magic? he asked.
Lowering her gaze to the ground, she traced a new pattern.
He sucked in a breath. “Oh, that’s definitely a yes.”
Stilling her hand, she looked around and sensed a brightness around them. It was spreading outwards into a void. Their work had, indeed, taken most of the magic she had created.
“We did it,” she gasped. “It actually worked.” Pushing to her feet, she let the blanket fall and felt the stiffness from sitting in the same position for a long time melt away as she automatically healed herself.
“How does it feel?” Tyen asked, looking up.
She closed her eyes. “Good. I’d forgotten how healthy it feels to be ageless.”
Something about the texture of the air tickled her skin, and she realised what it was. “You can let go of the Maker pattern now.”
Tyen rose. “Are you sure?”
She created a few sparks and concentrated with her new senses on that part of her mind. “Fascinating. It’s as though I could understand what magic is if I looked closely enough.” She resisted the urge and turned her senses outwards. “Oh!”
Tyen frowned anxiously. “What?”
She tore her mind from her surroundings to him, then grinned at what she saw. “Everything has a pattern. Everything! It’s like… I can see in the dark.”
Curiosity lit in his eyes. “So… now that you can understand pattern-shifting again you can use that to understand your Maker ability?”
“Yes, and more.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “I think there are other ways to gain this understanding. I think Valhan may have been close. I will have to ask Qall.” She paused, then grimaced. “He’s not going to be very happy with us. With me, for going against our agreement.”
“No,” Tyen agreed. “But I think he’ll forgive you. And he’ll have to get used to the idea that someone is more powerful than him, too.”
She shook her head. “Not stronger. Just different. Which he should be used to already with me. All I have to do now is work out how to sever a link between worlds.” She paused.
The ridges of the valley were now outlined by orange light. She realised this was no magical effect. Dawn had come. Was it the next day, or a dawn several days later? She was not sure.
“How long did this take?”
“Most of the night.” His expression shifted, lines of worry returning. She realised his mind was no longer open. Neither was hers. She was not sure when the boundaries had gone back up, or who had raised them first. It made her a little sad, and yet she did not resent it.
“We should be getting back,” she said.
Tyen nodded. “Yes. I wish we could stay here longer.” He stood and reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently, then letting it go. “Perhaps another time.”
As he bent to pick up the blanket, she walked over to the easel and began returning her new art materials to her pack. When she was done she slung it onto her back, picked up the painting and walked back to Tyen. She held the piece out to him.
“It’s yours,” she said.
Smiling, he took it carefully so as to not smudge the paint. “Thank you. I will frame it and hang it in my office.”
“I expect no less,” she told him, then leaned in to kiss him. “Tell me we don’t have to walk all the way back.”
He grinned. “But it’s all downhill.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, and he laughed. “No, there’s no reason to sneak around now. Though we will still have to be careful of watchers and pursuit.”
“Of course.” She took his hand. “Take me home, Tyen Ironsmelter. We must save the worlds and that is going to take quite a bit of planning.”
CHAPTER 22
“Trapping Kettin in an isolated world will not stop her machines,” Rielle pointed out as she struggled with the buttons on the back of her dress. “Though I’d rather do that than kill her. It’s more important to lure her machines into one.”
Her words seemed distant and unimportant, eclipsed by the sight of her brown skin contrasting with the white of her bustband. He rose and went over to her, sliding a hand under the dress and pushing the shoulders off so it fell to the floor. Looking over to the standing mirror, he watched as her inhalation pushed her breasts against the undergarment. She closed her eyes, a small smile beginning, then frowned and shook her head.
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