Thief's Magic

by Trudi Canavan

  If there were sorcerers in a world this rich in magic, they must know a lot about magic. Perhaps they could teach him. Perhaps they would know how to restore Vella to human form.

  He considered the reasons to return to his world. He could help the Sselts. Who will probably blame me for what happened. To restore the magic. Which the Empire will gobble up as fast as I bring it anyway. To see his family and friends again. I cannot visit Father. Neel was never really a friend and Miko betrayed me. Sezee doesn’t want to be around me. Ysser has enough to worry about without me adding to his troubles.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out again. It formed a cloud of mist in front of him.

  I will go back, he decided. But not straight away. There is so much I could do outside my world. Perhaps discover things I could bring back to my world, one day.

  The strangers were a hundred strides away now. Their clothing was black with pale trim, and as he made out more details he realised it was animal skin, the fur turned to the inside. Yet it was not made up of irregular shapes, but fitted and stitched in coloured thread with intricate patterns. There were both men and women, but all were carrying weapons. Though only spears, bows and short swords, they were dangerous enough. Taking a little magic, Tyen stilled the air around him to form a shield. He tucked Vella into his shirt again.

  The men spread out in a line twenty paces away. One spoke, unrecognisable words mixed in with clicks.

  Though Tyen had no idea if the gesture meant anything to these people, he bowed.

  “Good day,” he said. “Could you tell me where I am?”

  The other men looked bemused, but their leader’s face remained impassive. Looking closer, Tyen felt something vibrating at the edge of his senses. He focused on it.

  Then, as the leader spoke again, Tyen understood that the man was afraid, yet determined to protect his people from this stranger who had somehow entered their land undetected. He was demanding to know Tyen’s name and business.

  Stunned, Tyen stared at the man in amazement.

  Somehow he was reading his mind.

  RIELLE

  The port city of Llura was as wet as Fyre was dry. Sa-Mica claimed it was no hotter, but she found it hard to believe. Here she sweated constantly and there was little breeze to dry and cool her. Everything was damp. Mould grew everywhere – on buildings, clothing and even on the people – and pools of stagnant water bred stinging insects that swarmed at night and forced them to sleep under stifling tents of cheap, loosely woven cloth.

  Rielle could never have imagined how different the world was on the other side of the mountains. At first she’d been fascinated by how alive the jungle was. Plants crowded on all sides and towered above. The colours dazzled her, but the heat and constant noise had soon grown overwhelming. After two quarterdays of walking they had reached a tiny village of people with skin so dark that she and Sa-Mica stood out among them like Greya had in Fyre, but who were much more friendly towards outsiders than Fyrians. They continued their journey huddled in the prow of a riverboat, but without trees to shelter them they burned under a relentless sun. Four quarterdays later – a full halfseason – they arrived in Llura. Rielle had been eager to reach the city and coast, sure that it would be drier and quieter. She was sorely disappointed.

  Though Sa-Mica had set about finding a ship straight away, it had taken a quarterday to find one heading in the direction they wanted to go. Now, five quarterdays since she’d met the Angel, she was finally about to take her first sea voyage.

  They were waiting for permission to board under the broad awning of a shop selling the local delicacy, known as “sea fruit”. The ball-shaped creatures were steamed in their shells and tasted surprisingly sweet, though with a slightly disconcerting flavour of mud. The locals dusted them with spices that Rielle found too strong, but Sa-Mica enjoyed the heat, though it made him sweat even more.

  The sea had been both a revelation and a disappointment. The enormity of it both awed and frightened her. Now that she was about to take to a ship all the stories she’d heard of ships sinking or crashing against rocks were lurking at the edges of her mind, adding to the anxiety of starting a new life where she wouldn’t know anybody or even speak the language. At the same time she longed to be moving – anywhere so long as it was away from this place.

  She sighed and wiped her brow. “The sooner we are gone the better. I don’t think I can stand another moment of this heat.”

  Sa-Mica grunted his agreement. “You may miss it where we are going. Have you ever seen snow?”

  “No.”

  “It is charming at first, but the cold is unpleasant. It can be dangerous, too. Heed what the locals tell you.”

  Rielle thought of the foreign travellers her brother had once found, dead from thirst a few hundred paces from a well. They hadn’t noticed the insects swooping down to drink the water. Every place had its hidden dangers, he’d told her. It was always wise to listen to the locals, even when their advice sounded strange or silly.

  She turned to tell Sa-Mica the story. As her escort his manner had been different – more considerate – but his habit of silence remained. He was used to travelling alone or with only the tainted he took to the Mountain Temple as companions. She had grown bored and coaxed him into conversation by asking him about the journey and her destination. But sometimes she could not rouse him from his thoughts, and the frown he was wearing now was a familiar one.

  Thinking back, she recalled a conversation from a day when he was in a more receptive mood.

  “Do all artists have magical ability as a counterbalance to their talent?” she had asked him.

  “No.”

  “Then why do I have this ability?”

  “I don’t know. Valhan once told me that this world will not be so depleted of magic for ever. One day, many generations from now, mortals will be free to use it again.”

  But not until long after she was dead. And probably her descendants, too, if she ever had any. Her bleed had begun during the riverboat ride, confirming that it had been poor diet and exertion that had interrupted her cycle. Though relieved that she didn’t have the huge complication of a child to worry about when trying to settle in a new land, a part of her ached with sadness for the future she’d lost. For Izare and Narmah, who would never know she had met an Angel, and that her mistakes and bad choices had been forgiven.

  One day, if I repay my debt, I will meet them in the Angels’ realm and tell them tales they’ll hardly be able to believe.

  “Rielle,” Sa-Mica said, rising to his feet. “Stay here.” He took a step towards the shopfronts, then stopped and, without taking his eyes off whatever had caught his attention, said: “If I don’t return, take my pack and get on board. Don’t worry if the ship leaves. I will get new supplies at the temple here.”

  If he doesn’t return…? Heart racing, she watched him stalk away. Nearing an alley, he slowed and peered around the corner, then disappeared down it. She sat stiffly, unable to relax. He’d been a constant, reassuring presence for so long that the prospect of being alone was frightening. Especially in a foreign place.

  “Are you done?” a voice said from behind her shoulder.

  She jumped then looked up. The surly woman who had served them stood behind her, eyeing the empty sea fruit shells.

  “Yes.”

  “Customers are waiting.”

  Looking around, Rielle saw that all the other tables were occupied and a small group of men was scowling at her. She looked back at the alley entrance. Sa-Mica was nowhere to be seen.

  The woman made an impatient huffing noise.

  Sighing, Rielle picked up her pack and Sa-Mica’s and moved away. That put her outside the awning’s shade, however, so she moved down the shopfronts towards the alley. Another awning shaded the shop next to the alley, she noted. Was whatever had drawn Sa-Mica’s attention dangerous? His manner had suggested so. But it had probably led him further away by now. Her skin was burning. She walked over to the shade a
nd set down their packs.

  “… was me,” a woman’s voice said, from somewhere not far down the alley.

  “You sent the message to me at Breca’s?” Sa-Mica replied.

  Rielle froze. The priest hadn’t continued down the alley. He was just around the corner.

  “Yes. Have you received confirmation?”

  Realising she was eavesdropping, Rielle bent to pick up the packs …

  “That the corrupter in Fyre is Yerge?”

  … and froze again.

  “Yes.” The woman said. “You have, haven’t you?”

  “I knew it already. One of her victims drew a picture of her. Not all tainted make good use of their second chance at life, Mia. Yerge is not the only one to become a corrupter. And you—”

  “Valhan sent her there, Dav. He asked her to do it.”

  “How can you know that?” Sa-Mica’s tone was disbelieving.

  “Because she told me.”

  Sa-Mica did not respond. Rielle straightened slowly. If she lifted the packs and walked away, would they hear?

  “You don’t believe me,” the woman said.

  “No. Why would he do that?”

  “You know my suspicions.”

  “That he wants to raise an army of sorcerers and take over the world?” Sa-Mica’s voice was full of derision. He’d clearly heard this suggestion before.

  “That is one possibility. I’m sure you can think of more.”

  “I think he is merely giving the tainted a second chance.”

  “Or increasing the strength and numbers of priests, since that’s what the tainted become.”

  “Except for women,” Sa-Mica pointed out. “Why do the corrupters target women as well as men?”

  “Maybe he dares not target one sex for fear it will draw notice. Yerge thought he was looking for someone with exceptional abilities.”

  “So is it one person or an army he’s after?” Sa-Mica sounded amused.

  “Mock me all you like, Dav. Even if you don’t believe there is more to this, you know he is not infallible. If you are right he has let tainted go who immediately set out to corrupt others.”

  Sa-Mica sighed. “A second chance is no more than that. He may know what is in a person’s mind when he meets them, but he cannot control their future or their choices.”

  “So even Angels have limitations?”

  “Maybe. Maybe only he has. He is flesh and bone and blood. I believe he took human form in order to deal with the evil at the Mountain Temple.”

  “And it has forced limitations on him? Well, that would explain why he hides. When he arrived I hoped he’d fix more than just the Mountain Temple.” The woman sounded bitter.

  “Why do you need more, Mia? He freed you from that place.”

  “I always expect more. It is never enough for me to be safe when others aren’t, whether by your actions or his or anyone else’s. Didn’t that scar I gave you teach you that?” Sa-Mica didn’t reply. “So where are you off to now? The south, from the looks of it. Why is he sending you there?”

  “He … isn’t. I am returning to the Mountain Temple.”

  “And the girl? A Fyrian from the look of her. The south is a long way to go for a second life.

  “She wants to get as far from here as possible. I’m sure you can understand that.”

  “I do. Would you intro—”

  “No, Mia.”

  “I only want to talk to her.”

  “And corrupt her mind with your ideas of reform and rebellion? I don’t think even you would be that cruel. Let her go and find the peace she craves.”

  “Very well. It is good to see you, Dav. We should meet more often.”

  The sound of fading footsteps followed. Rielle let out a sigh of relief and grabbed the packs. Sa-Mica hurried out of the alley, then started as he saw her.

  “How long were you there?” he asked.

  “Since the server insisted I leave.” She shrugged in the direction of the shop. “So. The woman who taught me had been released by Valhan.”

  He scowled and took his pack from her. “Yes. She is not the only one to betray him.” He looked away, avoiding her eyes. “I am glad he’s sending you to the south.”

  “I would never teach anyone magic.”

  He turned back. “No, I believe you wouldn’t. But that is not what I fear.” He glanced back at the alley.

  “You fear her?”

  “I fear her cause. She and other women want him to give them the children they birthed. I sympathise, but I also understand why he has not granted them this. It would mean revealing what happened on the mountain, which would cause such chaos and perhaps endanger other lives.”

  “So she doubts his motives. Maybe it’s not so hard, then, to believe he’s recruiting corrupters so he can raise an army.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s not true, of course.”

  “No.” There was doubt in his voice.

  She frowned. “But it doesn’t make sense. Who does he need to fight? The Angels have no enemies. Even if they did, they are all powerful. And … wouldn’t fighting use up magic?”

  Sa-Mica smiled. “All good, sensible questions Ais Lazuli. This idea that he is looking for someone with exceptional magical ability makes no sense either. I have never seen anyone who could draw magic from such a distance as you did. Yet he sent you away.”

  “Unless I’m not exceptional enough.”

  He frowned, and she could tell he was considering her words. She placed a hand on his arm.

  “That’s not a serious suggestion,” she said. “What is more likely? That an Angel has turned corrupter and is recruiting tainted for a war against an unknown enemy or that people will always draw fabulous and unlikely conclusions when they don’t understand something?”

  He sighed and nodded. “You are right. I don’t understand everything, but I know more than they do and I see nothing other than one Angel dealing with one evil and its consequences. And…” he frowned and fell silent.

  “See?” She squeezed his arm and let him go. “It’s not a corrupt Angel we have to worry about, it’s whether others believe what this woman is saying and…” She paused as she spotted a man walking towards them. “Is he from the ship?”

  Sa-Mica didn’t turn to look. He was staring into the distance, eyes wide but unseeing. Then he cursed and swung around to face the seaman.

  “Boarding,” the man said, then turned on his heel and began walking away.

  Sa-Mica dropped to one knee and opened his pack. His movements were quick as he dug through the contents and drew out a flat leather envelope.

  “Take this. It contains money and the names and addresses of people who will help you.” He pressed it into her hands.

  “What? Why are you giving me this?”

  He took her arm and pulled her into motion, hurrying towards the ship. “I’m not going with you.”

  “But I thought … I thought you lied to her.”

  “I did, but I see now that I need to return to Valhan as quickly as possible.”

  “I can’t travel alone!”

  They reached the ramp that led up to the level of the ship’s deck. He turned and grasped her shoulders, bending to look into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Rielle. I wish I could escort you, but I can’t. You have money and common sense. Use them. And remember, he said you are allowed to use magic in your own defence.”

  “But … why?”

  “Because my first loyalty is to him. You are more than capable of finding your way. Go. Find yourself somewhere quiet and live a good life.” He squeezed her arms and smiled. “I wish you all the best, Rielle Lazuli. Goodbye.”

  Letting her go, he hoisted his pack and strode away. She watched him quickly negotiate the obstacles of the dock. He did not once look back. All too soon he was gone. Returning to the Angel.

  “Goodbye, Sa-Mica,” she whispered.

  Then, shivering from shock and trepidation, she obeyed his last instruction and cl
imbed the ramp to the deck of the ship, and the start of her new life.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Many thanks to the Orbit team and all the foreign language publishing staff, who never fail to transform my stories into wonderful books and are such a pleasure to work with.

  Much admiration and gratitude to someone who inspires as well as supports me, my agent, Fran. Thanks, also, to her lovely assistants, and to all the other agents around the world, with an extra one to Kate and Arabella, and Lora.

  Much gratitude to my feedback readers, Paul, Fran, Liz, Kerri, Donna and Ellen. A nod and wave must also go to the friends who read and discussed the ideas in the early version of Angel of Storms, written waaay back in the nineties, from which this series evolved. I don’t know if they’d recognise the story now, but I’ll always remember their enthusiasm with gratitude.

  Finally, but always, thanks to the readers and fans, new and old. I hope you enjoy this new universe I’ve made for you to explore … from the safety of the other side of the page.