Angel of Storms

by Trudi Canavan

  Then the hall filled with a deafening buzzing and clicking as streams of metallic bodies flooded into the room.

  Insectoids! Spindly machines with clawed and dagger-like limbs rushed towards him. He instinctively stilled the air around him, forming an invisible shield that they clattered up against, attacking the resistance with stabs and slashes. Though in no danger, he stared at them in horror.

  A whistle pierced the clatter. At once the attack ceased. Another piercing noise sent them scurrying back into the alcoves. Tyen realised the door to the next room had opened and a stocky woman stood in the opening, staring at him.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “Tyen Ironsmelter,” he replied. “To see Hekkirg.”

  “Wer!” the woman exclaimed, her whole body expressing relief. She beckoned.

  As she led him into a large room with an enormous fireplace he sought information in her thoughts, reasoning that learning who had misused the knowledge he’d taught at Liftre justified the bad manners of mind reading without permission. He saw that Hekkirg herself had designed them, to guard against invaders from the kingdom across the strait. Their old enemy had resumed raiding their shores in recent cycles. Visiting sorcerers were now supposed to wait to be invited to the house, so the insectoids could be instructed not to attack.

  A couple sat before the fire. The pair were broad-shouldered, their long blonde hair a mass of plaits wound about their heads.

  “Tyen!” the woman said, rising and drawing him into a tight embrace. It was a custom he’d never quite got used to when they were both students, and was even more discomfiting with her husband standing there. “I haven’t seen you in so many tides, I can’t count them.”

  “You are looking strong, Hekkirg,” he replied. Then he turned to the man. “As are you, Ekkich.” Hekkirg translated.

  Ekkich’s frown, Tyen understood, was considered good manners–that the man was taking his guest seriously. “What brings you to Gam?” the man asked in his native language, relying on his wife to interpret rather than struggle with Traveller tongue.

  “Ill news,” Tyen replied. “Liftre is no more. The Heads closed it after learning that the Raen has returned.”

  The couple exchanged a wide-eyed look, then began to discuss the news rapidly in their own language. Hearing the word “insectoid” several times, Tyen sought Hekkirg’s thoughts. He saw that they were discussing whether they should stop selling insectoids to other worlds.

  Tyen stomach turned. “You’ve been selling insectoids as weapons?”

  She nodded, smiling with pride. “We call them Defenders. They’re not as smart as human fighters, but since we’ve adapted them we’ve lost almost no guards to the raiders. Roup, who I met at Liftre, lives in one of our neighbouring worlds, where his country is constantly under attack by a neighbouring land, so we began selling them to him, and he knows of another people in the next world who were fighting off slavers. We have kept to your rule against projectile weapons, of course.”

  “But…” Tyen opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say.

  “You did not mean for others to turn your ideas to warfare of any kind, did you?” Ekkich asked. His tone was unexpectedly sympathetic.

  Tyen sighed. “No, but I suppose it was inevitable.” The knowledge he’d had of applying magic to mechanical objects had been all he had to offer in exchange for training at Liftre.

  “The Raen’s return will slow the spread of knowledge,” Ekkich added. Then he smiled. “Which will be good for us, if we can find a way to keep trading, as we’ll have fewer competitors.”

  At Tyen’s wince, Hekkirg stepped forward to hug him again. “Thank you for warning us,” she said. “You’ve risked your life to do so. I am sorry what we have done has upset you.” She stepped back. “What are your plans?”

  Tyen shook his head. “I don’t have any, yet, beyond telling my old friends the news.”

  “You could stay here.”

  Catching the look Ekkich gave his wife, Tyen suppressed a smile. “Thank you, but I have a promise to keep, and I can’t fulfil it here. There are others to warn, too. I should go now.”

  Hekkirg nodded. “Then I wish you a safe journey to wherever you choose to make your home.”

  As she returned to her chair Tyen pushed away from their world. Parel, Ahlen and Hekkirg had been his closest friends among his classmates at Liftre. He could visit other classmates now or seek out former students. Those who lived the furthest from Liftre would be least likely to have heard the news… which wasn’t entirely true because the news had originated somewhere else. Still, if he continued in the direction he was travelling he’d be more likely to encounter people who hadn’t heard it.

  Yulei, a former student, lived out this way, in a world he’d visited before. The most direct route to her world passed through some unfamiliar, less visited ones. A familiar path was usually safer, but perhaps not now when there was a chance of encountering the Raen, who, if enforcing his law against sorcerers travelling the worlds, would catch more if he watched established paths than less used ones.

  So Tyen started towards the less familiar worlds. As he travelled he recalled what Tarren had said about the Raen’s ability to move between worlds as easily as walking. “You might have the strength for it. I’ve met few sorcerers with your reach and ability, and I don’t think you’ve ever truly stretched as far as you could.”

  A skill like that might save his life. Perhaps he should try it now. Pushing harder against the previous world, he quickened his progress. He passed the midpoint, where neither world’s gravity dominated, then pulled hard towards the next one. Instead of slowing before arriving, he let himself snap into the next world, grabbed magic, exhaled, inhaled, then pushed away again.

  He reached the following world in less than half the time it usually took, then the next one even faster. It seemed reckless, however, and used more magic than necessary. Worried that he would be unable to avoid materialising within an obstacle, he passed through the next two worlds at his usual speed. The following was one he had not visited before, so he slowed at the midpoint to stretch his awareness out, seeking a path onward.

  Something plucked at his senses, and he found himself searching his surroundings. His eyes picked up a variation in the whiteness: a shadow, taller than it was wide. It could be a person, standing in the distance. Someone watching him…

  The Raen? His heart lurched. No, he told himself. I am imagining it, or I am seeing a particularly dark shape from the next or last world. When he checked his position, the gravity of the two worlds was so equal in strength that there was no pull at all.

  Yet the shadow remained. When he stopped trying to look at it the feeling something was there only grew stronger. What is it?

  “Another sorcerer,” Vella replied, her voice so unexpected he would have gasped, if he’d been breathing. “In the place between, but far enough away that your eyes don’t know how to interpret what you mind is sensing.”

  Who?

  “I don’t know.”

  He could not stay where he was; he would suffocate. Keeping his eyes on the variation, he began to pull himself back towards the last world. If he was going to confront another sorcerer, better that it be in a world he knew was safe and strong in magic.

  The arrival place was a huge, deserted city square, blanketed in heavy snow. It had been dimly lit before, but now it was tinged with the gold light of twin suns rising above the rooftops. Tyen drew in a deep breath of icy air and let it out slowly, willing his heart to stop hammering. His breath created a great cloud of mist.

  When it cleared, a man stood in its place.

  CHAPTER 4

  Tyen took a step backwards. His heart lurched and began to beat quickly. The mist had hidden any sign of the other sorcerer’s arrival but it wasn’t the suddenness that startled him, it was the man’s stare. Direct and unwavering, it gave no indication of the stranger’s mood, only his interest.

  This could be an o
rdinary sorcerer, he told himself. Perhaps one guarding the next world. It might not be the Raen.

  The man smiled. It held no warmth, only amusement. “Or it could be,” he said in the Traveller tongue. “What would you do then?”

  Tarren’s advice rushed through Tyen’s mind, then his own doubts and fears. He hadn’t had time to work out what he wanted to do. But he didn’t want to be stuck in one world. Not that he would have defied the Raen’s law for the sake of roaming freely, but even if he chose to settle in the world with the most magical knowledge, he might not find a solution for Vella there.

  If this was the Raen, this man was her best chance.

  If this was the Raen, he might be about to die for travelling the worlds. Or, at best, be about to make a bargain he could regret later.

  For Vella’s sake, and for his own, he had to take the chance.

  Then he realised the man had read his mind.

  His stomach swooped. He’d never met anybody who could see past his mind block. Whoever this man was, he was stronger than Tyen.

  “I…” Tyen began. “Who…?”

  The man held out a hand, palm up, a finger extended to point at Tyen’s chest. “The book.”

  Tyen froze.

  “I will return it,” the man assured him.

  What choice do I have? As Tyen reached inside his shirt for the pouch his hands trembled. He managed to slip Vella out, then held her for a moment. If this goes badly, I am very sorry. He looked up and opened his mouth to warn the stranger about her ability to read minds, then realised he did not have to speak. The man did not withdraw his hand, so the knowledge did not concern him. Tyen placed her in the outstretched palm.

  A thorough examination followed. Covers. Binding. The edge of her pages. As the man opened Vella, Tyen held his breath. He could not see if text was appearing. The man’s eyes did move back and forth, but his expression did not change.

  Tyen took the opportunity to look the stranger over. He was slightly shorter than Tyen and slim in build, yet something about his manner made him seem more imposing. His clothing was simple–a long coat of a dark material, a button-less shirt with a high collar, trousers, boots. Dark, short hair. Skin the colour Tyen’s darkened to when tanned, as smooth and unblemished as a child’s but with none of the underlying fat, so that his cheekbones and jaw were emphasised. He was exceptionally good-looking and Tyen could not help feeling a little envious admiration.

  The man closed Vella. To Tyen’s relief, his hand extended again, offering her back. Resisting the urge to snatch, Tyen took Vella and returned her to the pouch, his mind racing. If this is the Raen, then Tarren was right. He hasn’t taken something I’m not willing to give. If he’s not the Raen, he is certainly powerful. Can he–will he–restore Vella?

  He took a deep breath, telling himself that if this was the Raen all he could do was hope his old friend had been right, or that death would be swift and Vella would fall into good hands. He swallowed hard, then made himself meet the man’s eyes. They were so dark he could not see where iris met pupil.

  “Can you help us?” he asked.

  “Perhaps.” A tiny crease appeared between the man’s brows, his gaze on Tyen’s chest. “I have not had to deal with the creations of my predecessor for several hundred cycles, and then what was requested was their destruction. If I am to restore this woman’s body, I would not attempt it without testing the method first, several times. One mistake and she could be destroyed.”

  Tyen nodded. Words repeated in his mind: “my predecessor”, “several hundred cycles”. Suddenly he didn’t want to think about that too closely, afraid that if he did he’d lose his nerve.

  “It will take time,” the Raen said. His eyes narrowed. “In return you have nothing to offer but service.”

  For a brief moment Tyen was tempted to point out that he now owned an object that had read the Raen’s mind, but he figured it wouldn’t be a bargaining piece he’d possess for long if he did.

  “Not much of an exchange, I know,” he replied.

  The man made a low noise. A chuckle, Tyen realised. The Raen had a sense of humour.

  “You may be useful to me, if you are willing. A group of sorcerers, some formerly of the school you attended, are uniting with the intention to defy my laws and challenge my rule. I would like you to join them and report their activity to me.”

  Tyen’s stomach sank. Could he work against people he had once learned and worked with? Lie to them? Betray them? What if his true role among them was discovered? What if his actions led to their deaths?

  “It would be better if it does not come to that,” the Raen said. “If you are clever you may steer them from their more dangerous ambitions. If not you might still reduce the number who perish as a result of a direct confrontation.”

  A direct confrontation? So they are planning to attack him? They must truly hate him. Tyen thought of the arguments between the teachers, wondering which was right. Was he a monster? Then he winced as he knew the Raen had seen the thought.

  “They are angry at losing their freedom to do whatever they wish,” the man continued. “They do not see that my laws keep the strife of the worlds from growing into greater conflicts. If they obey them, I will let them live.”

  Tyen nodded. He remembered Tarren’s words: “… what are you prepared to do in order to fulfil your promise to her?” He took a deep breath.

  “I won’t kill anyone for you.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “How long will the arrangement last?”

  “Until Vella is restored or I am convinced I cannot help her.”

  Tyen looked down at the pouch hanging around his neck. He wished he could ask her what she would prefer, but he knew what she would say: only he could decide. She was not whole, so she could not feel emotions as he did. She only knew she was incomplete, and that what had been done to her was wrong.

  He nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  “Then we have an understanding: I will attempt to restore Vella and you will watch these potential rebels for me in return. I do not need you to seek me out to make your reports, so long as you leave their base from time to time. I will find you.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Seek your old friends and you will find it.”

  Empty, cold air was suddenly all that filled the space the Raen had occupied. Tyen stared at the snow beyond and he realised he was shivering. Whether from the cold or his encounter with the ruler of worlds, he couldn’t decide. I am alive. I still have Vella. More than that: the most powerful sorcerer in the worlds had agreed to seek a way to restore her for him. I think that means things just took a turn for the better. Not that there aren’t many, many ways it could all go wrong. He had to trust that the Raen would keep his word, and hope that his “watching”–spying was more accurate–didn’t end in disaster, for himself, Vella or his friends.

  Then doubts crept in and he began to grow certain he had made a bad and hasty choice. But what choice did I have, really, with the Raen standing there? Say “sorry for breaking your laws” and hope he didn’t kill me? Perhaps he would have let Tyen live. The man had suggested he would forgive these potential rebels if they gave up their plans of resistance and obeyed his laws.

  He took Vella from her pouch again and opened her pages.

  What did you make of the Raen, Vella?

  Nothing. I could not penetrate his mind.

  You couldn’t? But you were able to read Roporien’s, weren’t you?

  Yes.

  He paused to marvel at that. It made sense that the Raen was more powerful than Roporien, since he had killed his predecessor. If that was, indeed, how Roporien had perished. It was always possible people had assumed so only because that was what Millennium’s Rule predicted and the Raen rose to power at the same time that Roporien had died. He looked at Vella’s pages again.

  Did the Raen ask you anything?

  No. Nor did he seek specific knowledge. Yet I am sure that I was thoroughl
y examined. I presented questions to him in the Traveller tongue, since he spoke it, but he did not respond.

  That news was both disappointing and hopeful. He had hoped Vella could tell him whether the man was likely to keep his word.

  Well, I have to trust that Tarren is right and he’ll keep to his side of our deal. I have no choice but to keep to mine.

  How hard was it going to be to dissuade these potential rebels from confronting the Raen? He wouldn’t be able to suggest it outright, or they’d wonder why he’d bothered joining them. While he hated the idea of spying on his former classmates and teachers, what if the Raen was right? What if by doing so he saved them? And perhaps, if a confrontation proved unavoidable, he could persuade the Raen to spare his friends.

  First I have to find them, he told himself.

  He considered who among his friends might have joined the rebels. Parel appeared contented with his life. He was patriotic, and wouldn’t risk harming his world out of self-interest. He had said something dismissive about rebels in their last conversation, too. Ahlen would be too busy helping his people survive the impact on their cross-world trading. Hekkirg and her husband’s main priority was protecting their people from raiders.

  Yira, on the other hand, would not want to be restricted to her world. She enjoyed exploring too much. When he thought back to their last meeting, he realised that her invitation to him to come and live with her and her “friends” was more than out of character, it was a little suspicious. Yira had made sure her lovers never met each other. Men could not help their jealous natures, she’d said, and must be kept separate if they were to stay out of trouble. He doubted she’d ever expect them to live together.

  What do you think, Vella? Is Yira my best bet?

  Of your Liftre friends, she is the only one with warrior training. It is logical that she would choose to fight.