Angel of Storms

by Trudi Canavan

  “Come in.”

  He pushed through. Yira was sitting on a deep, low bench, her long legs tucked in under her. She looked relaxed and calm, as though she had been in Aei for weeks, when she had only been in the temple city for eight days, and had moved constantly from house to house so that only Tyen knew where she was to be at any time.

  She smiled at the two rebels and rose.

  “This is Joi and Gevalen,” Tyen told her.

  “I remember Joi, but I’ve not had the honour of talking to Gevalen before,” she said. “Welcome. I am so glad you joined us.” She poured each a glass of water flavoured with tart little flowers and waved at another bench. “Sit. Relax. Did you find us easily?”

  The pair sat down. “I got a little confused by the instructions,” Joi confessed. “But I suspect the messenger at the inn hadn’t memorised them correctly.”

  Tyen settled next to Yira, watching the pair’s minds as she talked to them. This was his main task, now. Yira was all too aware that some rebels had stronger magical ability than hers. She wanted to know who could read her mind and who was likely to, whether by accident, habit or deliberately. Meeting with them in pairs or threes made it easier for Tyen to examine them. While his presence deterred most from attempting to read her mind, he still learned whether they would have attempted it if he hadn’t been there.

  It surprised him how many would have. Most sorcerers were raised in societies where privacy, at least among their own or higher classes, was respected. Reading the minds of those of status was taboo in most worlds. In some, reading minds of anybody without consent was outlawed–as it had been in Liftre. But in the absence of any plainly stated rules or expectations, and in a situation of risk and fear, the rebels’ reluctance to break the taboos and rules of their upbringing had weakened.

  It needed to. Hesitating to read minds could mean they missed a vital warning of attack. But they must also realise that reading other rebels’ minds could be as dangerous, especially if it meant secret locations and plans were revealed to the enemy.

  Knowing who did understand or respect this had shrunk the pool of rebels Yira considered her most trusted, useful advisers and commanders. Her intention was to place each in charge of a group of less-powerful rebels. Any secret information she gave them could not spread further than necessary, and they could effectively keep watch for traitors among their charges.

  Gevalen was frowning. “But where can you train anyone here? All the buildings are small, and nowhere is private.”

  She smiled. “We have a place. Tyen will take you there. That is all I can tell you.”

  Tyen nodded as the pair glanced at him. Not everything the city needed could be produced in its lush gardens. Supplies were brought to the city by merchants, many of whom were sorcerers and used the space between to speed the delivery. On the outskirts were warehouses where the goods were received and stored before being transported into the city. Yira had hired a few for the training sessions.

  “Tyen has a few questions before you go,” Yira said.

  The pair’s attention returned to him.

  “Joi, you were with us when we took the families to safety.” Joi nodded. “Gevalen, you weren’t. Were you at the cavern when it was attacked?”

  The young man paled and nodded. Tyen caught an echo of guilt and, interestingly, determination. Gevalen knew he had survived by being quick to flee, and he believed he shouldn’t feel bad when it was what they’d been told to do. Even so, he half expected censure for leaving.

  “Did you get a good look at the allies?” Tyen asked.

  Relieved at this angle of questioning, Gevalen thought back to the attack.

  “A few, but not all.”

  “But you recognised one of them.”

  Gevalen’s gaze met Tyen’s as he realised his mind was being read. He quashed the anger that rose, acknowledging that the rebel leaders had to be more careful now.

  “Yes. Keich. He’s a regular visitor to my home world.” His lip curled. “He’s part of the reason I’m here.”

  Tyen nodded and turned to Joi. “Do you mind waiting in the garden at the front of the house?” He watched as the chatty rebel left. Tyen turned back to Gevalen. “Tell me everything.”

  When the young man left some time later, Tyen and Yira sat in silence for a little while, thinking over what they had learned.

  “So,” Yira said eventually. “Now we know a lot more about Keich. He sounds like such a charming man.”

  Tyen did not smile at her sarcasm. “I wonder, though, how much those stories were embellished, or selected and shaped to fit the image he wants others to believe?”

  Yira tapped the side of her glass. “I doubt it is all exaggeration, and as far as we’re concerned Keich is our enemy because he serves the Raen and killed some of our people.” Her lips pressed into a line. “These allies are assets of our target. Removing them would hurt him.”

  Tyen frowned. From these meetings with the rebels he’d learned that most rebels had joined the resistance as much in the hope of defeating the Raen’s allies as the Raen himself. Several had come from worlds the allies controlled or exploited. He’d begun to collect information, curious about these sorcerers who served the ruler of worlds. Had they begun their service by requesting a favour or making a deal? How powerful were they? How much freedom did the Raen allow them? What did he require in return? Did they serve him entirely out of obligation, or loyalty? Were the allies friends with each other?

  He’d collected quite a bit of information, compiling a list of ten names, and descriptions of two others who remained unnamed. He hadn’t anticipated that his research might give Yira someone other than the Raen to target.

  As he had many times already, he began to chew over the growing problem of the rebels’ expectations. Now that the enemy had attacked they considered the war declared and begun. The more organised the rebels became, the safer they were, but also the more determined to fight. His chances of preventing any further deaths were shrinking rapidly.

  If I can’t steer them from a confrontation, perhaps these allies provide a way to prevent them directly attacking the Raen, he thought. If they lose, the survivors may be shaken into changing their minds about rebellion. A win will use up their energies and may even persuade them that the allies are the real problem, not the Raen. If even half of the stories about the allies are true, many deserve the rebels’ hatred.

  The worlds would be better off without the worst of them. And yet…

  “More rebels will die,” he warned. “Many more, if the ally is powerful.”

  She chewed her lip, then took another sip of water. “Sometimes you have to take losses in the beginning in order to make gains in the long term.”

  “And sometimes you don’t. Sometimes an early setback is all it takes to kill interest in resistance. Besides, we’re not ready for a battle.”

  She looked at him and nodded. “No, we’re not. This will require careful preparation. Keep gathering information. We need to know the allies’ strengths, and if they are ever in a place where other allies or the Raen can’t come to their aid. If that means luring one of them into a trap, we need to know what sort of bait will work.”

  Tyen nodded. He rose. “Frell says he spotted some potential recruits among the pilgrims in his house,” he said. “I’ll check them out. Then I’ll ask the people who have already given us information about the allies’ strength and movements if I could safely visit the worlds they frequent.”

  Yira frowned. “Visit them? Surely the most dangerous area to travel between worlds is near the allies’ homes?”

  “Possibly less so than going to any other worlds. I’d be surprised if the allies didn’t have some agreement with the Raen that allows their world to trade with others. That would create plenty of well-used paths between them.”

  She looked thoughtful, then suddenly smiled. “Thanks, Tyen. I don’t know how I’d do any of this without you.”

  He bent in a lazy bow. “An h
onour to serve you, lady.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Get out of here.”

  As he made his way to the house Frell was staying in, the tranquillity of his surroundings no longer soothed him. While all of the rebels dreamed of defeating the Raen, most thought the chances were very slim. The allies had to be weaker than their leader, so the possibility of killing them seemed better.

  Trouble was, nobody knew how strong the allies were. They could be almost as strong as the Raen if rumours and stories were true. Several had lived for more than a few hundred cycles. If that was an indicator of strength, then the rebels should target allies showing their age or who had been born sufficiently recently that their youthfulness might not be due to magic.

  Like himself. He shivered. Some allies appeared to deserve the rebels’ hatred, but what if their actions hadn’t been as terrible as the stories told? What if they’d had no other choice? What if they’d been trying to protect someone or something else? What if they hadn’t anticipated the consequences of their actions?

  Reaching the house Frell was living in, he met with two potential recruits. Frell had been scanning the minds of returning rebels and noticed that two of the women in the house, a mother and daughter, were sorcerers with a grudge against the Raen. Their husbands had been visiting a world some distance from their home when the Raen returned, and had not been seen since. The women had come on a pilgrimage in the hope of meeting someone from that world who had seen their men, and had instead learned of their murders.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” Tyen said as he guided them to Yira’s house. “Are you sure you want to do this? My father used to say you should never make a decision when angry, drunk or grieving.”

  The women exchanged a look. In their minds Tyen saw that they were wondering how to explain that their marriages had not been love matches.

  “We are past the shock,” the daughter, Moro, told him. “It has been many days since we learned of their deaths.”

  “You do not want to return home to inform their families?”

  The pair shook their heads, their elaborately looped plaited hair swaying. “If we return we will become the property of the patriarch,” the mother, Domo, explained.

  Tyen smiled to show he understood. “Their loss is our gain.”

  They described their world to him as they continued across the city. Little furred animals with long fluffy tails rode on their shoulders and the women explained they were poi-poi, both a pet and a defence against an insect of their world that laid eggs in the ears of sleeping humans. He brought Beetle out of the pocket of his aircart jacket when they asked if he had a pet, but the two poi-poi tried to attack it.

  When they finally arrived he was glad to find food had been laid out for Yira and her endless stream of visitors. He ate as the women repeated their story.

  “So all women learn magic on your world, if they have the ability, but it never used to be so?” Yira asked.

  Moro nodded. “Inekera founded a school for women sorcerers thirty cycles ago, with the permission of the Raen. There was no education for us before then.” The woman’s smile was cold and steely. “From us she selected women to serve her, and some she sent away to serve the Raen and his allies.”

  Yira’s eyes narrowed. “What was the nature of this service?”

  The blonde plaits swayed. “For her, merely domestic duties. For the rest, we do not know exactly. None of those women have returned.”

  “I count myself lucky that my daughter and I are not strong enough to have been selected,” Domo said. “I did not foresee I would lose my husband and son-in-law instead.”

  “I acknowledge your grief,” Yira said, then leaned forward. “What else can you tell me about Inekera? What does she look like?”

  “Closer to my age than my daughter’s,” Domo said. “Black hair. Pale skin. Tall.”

  “So she has not learned to halt ageing?”

  The mother shook her head. “I do not know. Perhaps she did not learn it until she was that age, and cannot make herself appear younger.”

  “Perhaps…” Yira refilled the women’s glasses. “What have you seen her do with magic?”

  Tyen watched as memories played out in the two women’s minds. They had seen Inekera do some impressive things, but most were showy rather than demanding. Yet he could feel Yira’s growing excitement.

  “Does she stay in your world most of the time?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when she leaves, is it on a regular basis?”

  “She comes here, on pilgrimage, three times a cycle.”

  “When is the next visit?”

  Domo considered. “Soon. I’d have to do the calculations, but in around twenty temple days.”

  All three women wore chilling smiles, none of them needing to read each other’s mind to know what they were thinking. Neither did Tyen, but he looked anyway. The newcomers were excited, thinking that their world might be rid of a sorcerer who had sent away so many daughters to an unknown fate. Yira held her excitement in check, however, determined not to make any decisions until she was sure that what she was considering would work. They needed more information, both about Inekera and about other allies. And training. Much more training.

  She rubbed her hands together. “So… what is the route from your world to this, and does Inekera trade with neighbouring worlds?”

  Tyen remained silent as Yira extracted as much information as possible from the women, shaking his head when she asked if he had any questions for them. When he was alone with her again, she looked at him and laughed.

  “Don’t worry, Tyen. I’m not going to take up my spear at the first opportunity. The rebels will guess what we’re contemplating from our questions, so we should show equal interest in all allies so that none can guess the target we choose.”

  He nodded but didn’t bother trying to hide his discomfort. “But you are thinking of attacking one eventually.”

  “Yes. Bring the group leaders here,” she said. “I want to discuss this.”

  “They are only the strongest, not the smartest or best trained in strategy,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but I can’t risk consulting the weaker ones in case someone reads their mind, and I’ve got to discuss this with someone other than you.” She looked at him levelly. “I’m sorry. You’re smart, Tyen, and I trust you, but I need input of all kinds, even if a lot of it turns out to be reckless or impossible. Who knows? Maybe one of the leaders will have a brilliant idea.”

  He shrugged. “So long as you keep listening to me, I’m happy.”

  She grinned. “I’ll always listen to you, Tyen. You don’t say a lot, but when you speak it’s always worth paying attention.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Nearly a hundred men and women stood within an ancient auditorium. Gathered together, and having changed from the temple clothing into the clothes they normally wore, it was suddenly clear that the rebels were a mix of people from many, many different origins. They were of all heights, sizes and colouring. The one characteristic they had in common was the ability to use magic. And the determination to strike at the Raen.

  Their voices filled the space. Scanning their minds, Tyen saw impatience, boredom and curiosity. Some of the newest rebels were considering the size of the crowd, and their assessment of whether this many sorcerers could challenge the Raen ranged from confident to dismissive.

  Yira stepped out of the shadows of the auditorium entrance and up onto a broken column, balancing on the highest point.

  “Fellow rebels,” she said, her voice rising above the chatter. Faces turned and those who hadn’t seen her arrive blinked in surprise. She had never appeared at one of the practice gatherings before, and at once the mood of the crowd changed. Excitement mixed with fear. Doubt combined with hope. The chatter dwindled to near silence.

  “For many days now you’ve been gathering here and in other meeting places,” Yira continued. “In war, cooperation and communication is as important as strate
gy and fighting skills. So is secrecy. So is timing. I’m pleased to say that, apart from a few stragglers, we can now form an army quickly and efficiently.

  “This is usually the moment where I or one of my four generals sends you back to your boarding house.”

  She looked at Tyen and the other three rebels she’d picked as her closest advisers–her generals. He’d been surprised when she’d chosen Frell, another ex-lover, but the man was strong and had been trained in warfare. The others were Hapre, a woman with a sharp intellect who could sum up a situation or concept in a few words, and Volk, a man whose ability to see holes in their security measures had impressed Yira and Tyen.

  Yira smiled and faced the crowd again.

  “Today will be different. Today we strike back at our enemy.”

  Tyen’s stomach sank. A few cheers rang out as the rebels recovered from their surprise, then more. He looked at Yira closely. When they’d left Aei she had not been sure whether she would go ahead with her plan, let alone which of the allies they would target. Three times already she had stood in this place and decided the rebels weren’t ready, or she didn’t have enough information about the allies yet.

  “This we have not rehearsed,” she continued. “We are untested. But there has to be a first time. A first strike. An answering strike. Not the main strike. We are not confronting the Raen today. But if we succeed…” She paused, her gaze moving across the faces. “… we will make the allies pay for attacking us and weaken the Raen at the same time. We will gain in numbers and strength, as news of what we have done brings more fighters to our cause. Today we take the first step towards ridding the world of the Raen and his laws.”

  The cheers were this time louder, though Tyen detected a subdued and hesitant edge to it as the rebels realised they were about to face a battle and some of them could die. Perhaps more than some.