He noticed that she was wearing the bracelet he’d given her, a bold segmented cuff that would uncurl at a command to become an insectoid–one that could sting an attacker or curl up into a bauble for her children to play with.
Seeing her casual stride shift to a familiar, inviting sway, he smiled. “You’ve chosen a bad time to visit.”
“Not happy to see me?” Snaking an arm around his neck, she pressed her mouth to his. He enjoyed the kiss, but while she did not hurry he detected a tension in her movements.
“Thrilled,” he said a little breathlessly when they parted. “But the prospect of a far less pleasant visitor has sent everyone running.”
“The Raen?” she said, taking one of his hands and stepping back. “That’s why I’m here. I figured the news would arrive before I did, but I was right to guess that you would not take it seriously.”
“I am taking it seriously,” he assured her. “I was returning to my room after consulting with Tarren on where to go. Besides, if this Raen is such an immediate danger, why did you risk coming here?”
She shrugged. “I am inviting my friends to come live with me in my world. Yourself included.”
“Friends” was the term she’d adopted for her lovers, after a few people in Liftre had been scandalised by her talking openly about them. She had always been honest about them with him. He’d wanted more in the beginning, but she hadn’t, and he’d had to accept that. Now “friends” seemed a more accurate term for them, even if they did sometimes share a bed.
“I thought you preferred that your friends didn’t meet?”
She shrugged. “It’s that, or never see any of them again. Will you join me?”
He considered. “Maybe. I have a promise to keep. Someone I said I’d help.”
“A former student?”
“No, but… some of my friends and former fellow students might not have heard the news. I should warn them.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Be careful. The Raen might allow Liftre sorcerers to travel home, but I doubt he’d tolerate much more.” She tugged at his arm, pulling him towards his room. “I’m not letting you disappear into the worlds without a last study session.”
He laughed. “Who isn’t taking the news seriously now?”
“I am serious. I seriously want you to come to my world, and I am seriously going to remind you why that would be fun.” As they reached his door she pushed him through, and he remembered just in time to tell Beetle to stop guarding the door as they staggered towards the bed. Yira kissed him again and began to unbutton his shirt.
Only then did he remember Vella was concealed under his clothing.
CHAPTER 3
She made no comment, setting Vella aside with one eyebrow raised. Afterwards she gathered up her clothes, kissed him, repeated her invitation for him to stay in her world, then vanished. Enjoying the lingering warmth and scent of her in the bed, he wondered if she planned to dress while travelling to the next world, or slip in and out of sight in each world naked. Even she wasn’t bold enough for the latter.
When next he opened his eyes he knew from the light streaming through the small window that it was late morning and he’d slept past the first bell. Then his heart lurched as he realised there hadn’t been a bell, and why.
He’d stayed in the school far longer than he ought to. Rising, he quickly slung Vella’s bag around his neck, wrapped a blanket around his waist and peered out of the door. The silence beyond his room was complete and unsettling. He’d crept through the school in the middle of the night before, when all was quiet, but this was different. It felt… devoid of life. Dead. He shivered, and a memory of a half-collapsed tower seen from above flashed through his mind’s eye. He closed the door and leaned against the back of it as an old horror washed over him and then faded again.
The memory of Spirecastle’s fall filled him with a sense of urgency he’d lacked before. He considered all his possessions. Travel light. That’s what Professor Kilraker always recommended. He remembered how Neel, as Mico predicted, had packed some ridiculously awkward belongings for the archaeological expedition on which Tyen had found Vella.
Neel. Mico. Kilraker. He hadn’t thought of them in a long time. They seemed like characters of a tale, or from someone else’s life. And here he was again, forced to leave an educational institution abruptly, with his life in danger. At least this time the threat wasn’t personal, and his education was complete.
Before his thoughts could turn to regrets… his father, Sezee… he focused his mind on packing. From under his bed he drew out a dusty old bag. Warm, hard-wearing clothing was essential–one set to wear and another to change into while the first was being washed. From the back of his cupboard he retrieved his aircart flyer’s jacket, the only article of clothing he’d saved from his world. Well made, it would last for a long time yet, and though he had once laughed at his fellow Academy students for wearing theirs to impress girls, it was a part of his identity now. Inside the pockets were gloves and a fur-lined hat with ear flaps that he’d bought in anticipation of making another aircart.
As with restoring Vella, he never had got around to it. There had been so much to learn.
He would regret leaving the timepiece, but it was too big to carry. Beetle contained a small timepiece now, and Vella contained the calculations he’d worked out to keep track of Leratian years if he ever lost Beetle.
He grabbed writing and grooming instruments, a general-purpose knife, small blanket, and the pouches of precious metals, gems, rare spices and scents he took with him to trade in lieu of money when travelling the worlds.
Finally he looked up above the door.
“Beetle,” he said. “In.”
A mechanical whirr and buzz later, the insectoid had settled within the old bag. Tyen tossed in with it a small kit of parts and tools for repair work and modification, and the bottle of paralysing drug he used in Beetle’s stingers.
He slung the bag strap over his head, drew in magic and a deep breath, then pushed away from the world.
Goodbye Liftre, he thought as the room faded. Thanks for the knowledge you gave me. May you be remembered, and one day be revived. Then he touched the rectangular lump under his shirt. So, Vella, what do you think of Tarren’s advice?
As always between worlds, she spoke in his mind, her voice clear and feminine. “From what I read of Tarren, a cycle ago, he would not urge you to approach the Raen if he did not think it the better choice.”
Because I have less chance of surviving if I don’t make a deal with the Raen?
“That is one way to interpret his advice.”
Tyen considered that. Tarren said the Raen would not ask for anything I wasn’t willing to give. What if the Raen’s ways have changed? What if he no longer makes deals?
“I cannot answer that.”
No. You do not have enough information. We should seek answers, but that means breaking the Raen’s law against travelling between worlds. Yet I can’t stay at Liftre. I have no choice but to risk travelling, so I might as well seek those answers. And I may as well warn a few ex-students of the Raen’s return while I’m at it–I guess I’ll do that first and see what I find out about the Raen along the way.
He was surrounded by pure white now. Sensing the pull of the next world, he drew himself towards it. The path was well established. The passing of so many sorcerers fleeing the school had made it as clear as a field trampled by an army. Shadows formed and joined to reveal a city square at night. The arrival place was a dais in the centre, out of the way of the traffic that would normally fill the space. Cold air touched his skin as he arrived. He took a deep breath and more magic, and propelled himself onward.
As he entered the place between again he sought a different path leading away. Following this, he arrived in another city, this time during daylight. The arrival place was an island in the middle of a wide canal, and he glimpsed boats drifting in all directions, some entering or leaving the side canals that formed the streets of the m
etropolis.
The path he chose next was not as well travelled. The air in the following world was thin and cold. He nodded to the monks guarding the arrival site of the mountainous temple city as he paused to take two extra breaths before moving on.
Dappled light told him he was nearing his first intended destination. It resolved into a curtain of leaves and flowers. Above was the slatted roof of a garden shelter. The sudden, rich perfume was overpowering as he stepped outside and surveyed his surroundings. The shelter was in the centre of a courtyard between several large buildings. Tyen walked across to a grand door, twice his height and painted gold, and knocked.
A man opened the door in livery.
“Tyen Ironsmelter,” he said, his long moustache almost reaching his knees as he bowed. “Welcome back. Young Parel is in the sandery.” He stepped aside.
“Thank you.” Tyen strode inside. The building was several centuries old, and followed an old system of architecture that his former classmate had proudly described in detail many times before Tyen had a chance to visit his home. A “river”–sometimes literally–ran down the centre of the house, crossed by regular bridges. On the left the rooms were private, on the right they were public. In the absence of a flow of actual water, the “river” channel was filled with gardens, baths and other rooms dedicated to pampering. Lesser buildings had no roof over this, but wealthier owners covered theirs with arches of iron, the space between filled in with glass.
The sandery was four rooms down. There he found Parel lying half buried in fine grains of white; a dramatic contrast to his brown-grey skin. The young man’s eyes were closed as servants poured freshly heated sand over him.
“Your father works you hard, I see,” Tyen said, setting down his bag.
One of Parel’s eyes opened, and he grinned.
“Tyen!” he called. “Don’t you know: warm sand is great for your bones. Come down and join me.”
Tyen shook his head. “I can’t stay long.”
“So what news… bah! Who am I kidding? I’ve had five visitors bearing the same story already. The Raen is back.” He waved a hand dismissively.
“So they tell me.” Tyen sighed. “The school has closed.”
Parel grimaced. “A pity. They’d have been mad to keep it open, though.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Me? Nothing! Father says everything will go back the way it was. Not that much changed here after the Raen disappeared anyway. It’ll be good news for the local schools. They couldn’t compete with Liftre.”
“The Raen won’t shut them down as well?”
Parel shook his head. “They’ve never taught world travelling, and to enter you have to swear to serve Troff and her people for life–which means honouring the alliance made with the Raen three hundred cycles ago, so he’s hardly going to object to that.” He shrugged, sand cascading from his shoulders. “What are you going to do?”
Tyen looked away. “Warn a few friends.”
“And after that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, don’t go roaming around. And keep away from those fools talking about rebellion.” Parel pushed up onto his elbows, the sand on his chest falling away. “My advice is: find a quiet world where the sorcerers are weak and ignorant. Make your fortune, find a wife or three and raise a big family. You’ll be too busy to miss the school, or exploring the worlds.”
Tyen chuckled. “With three wives and a big family I certainly would be.” He lifted his bag onto his shoulder again. “I must warn a few others. Take care of yourself, Parel.”
“You, too.”
Tyen pushed straight into the place between. It was easy enough to find the established path again, skimming sideways until he found the courtyard. It was always polite, and sometimes safer, to arrive in a world at an official arrival place, but a sorcerer could usually leave from any place. He retraced his path to the world of the monks. Finding the next route was trickier.
Nobody he’d met had ever been able to explain exactly how the worlds were arranged in relation to each other, though plenty had tried. The best analogy he’d heard was that they were like marbles of different sizes sitting in a jar of jelly. Some pressed up against a handful other worlds, some appeared to link to only one. All that appeared to be certain was that the number they could link to was limited–all worlds couldn’t be reached by all other worlds–and you couldn’t travel from one side of the jar to the other without passing through the worlds between.
Moving out of the monks’ world a little, he moved sideways, passing through several mountains. Far to the south he located another arrival place, this time in the ruins of a city. From there he found a path to a different world.
It was a frozen place, but Tyen didn’t stay any longer than needed. He propelled himself onward, six then seven more worlds along, until he reached a marshy landscape. He stayed in the place between, rose high above the stone arrival platform and started skimming across the world, looking for signs of humans.
Some way from the arrival place he found it. From above they would have been dismissed as the nests of the giant, squat lizards grazing around them, but Tyen knew better. The nests were houses, and the lizards the means of transporting them and the belongings of the Etilay.
Wary of strangers, the people had elaborate rituals of greeting. Tyen emerged into the damp air a hundred paces from the camp with his boots firmly supported on a mound of moss, and waited.
Moments later a man almost as pale as Tyen, with dark red hair, stepped out from beneath the canopy of one of the houses.
“Tyen!” he cried, leaping from mound to mound. Behind him, heads peered out from around the buildings.
“Ahlen,” Tyen replied. He raised his hands, palms upwards. “Requesting permission to approach.”
“Pah! You don’t need to go through that ritual again,” Ahlen told him. “We accepted you once, so no need to ask again.”
Tyen smiled. “That’s good to hear. I can’t stay long.”
“Nor can we. The dem herds have been sighted to the west, so we’re leaving.” Ahlen beckoned then led Tyen back to the houses.
From the ground, the Etilay houses looked like half-deflated leather balls. Their walls were a skin made of some kind of flexible, fibrous material. Inside, however, was an intricate lattice of strong dried reeds that could be expanded or collapsed as needed. The core of the building, the hearth, sat on a solid base, and this lay on a raft shaped to fit snugly around a lizard’s back.
Following Ahlen, Tyen saw that one had been collapsed, and a lizard was being led under it. The creature settled into the harness without objection, and as soon as the straps were tightened children rushed forward and climbed up onto the beast’s stout shoulders, using the soft bristles sprouting from the segmented neck as handholds. The man holding the lizard’s lead scratched it under the chin, and a deep rumble vibrated the ground beneath Tyen’s feet.
“Have you heard the news, Ahlen?” Tyen asked.
“News?” the young man replied. Tyen turned to look at his former classmate. Ahlen’s pale eyes stared back at him, then his brow furrowed. “Bad news, I see.”
Tyen nodded. “Liftre has been forced to close.”
Ahlen’s mouth opened in shock. “When?”
“Last night.”
“How? Why?”
“The Raen has returned.”
Ahlen’s eyes closed and his shoulders dropped. “Of course. I should have guessed. Only that would do it.”
Tyen sighed. “Does everybody know about this man already but me?”
Ahlen managed a smile. “Probably, though I would have thought you’d have heard some stories.”
“I must have, but when there are countless stories from countless worlds I guess it’s harder to remember the names of the people in them–especially when they’re supposed to be dead.”
Ahlen’s expression shifted to worry again. “I fear what this means for us. The soil here is so salty and wet, c
rops don’t grow and domestic animals do not thrive. We have been trading salt with the three worlds that abut this one for over ten cycles now, as was done long, long ago before the Raen imposed his laws. Now that we can take the salt to them we can bargain for a better price. That is why I was sent to Liftre: we had lost the knowledge of world travelling.”
“What will your people do now?”
Ahlen sighed. “Some will want to stop trading, others to keep going until we’re ordered to stop.” He shook his head. “But what will you do? You can’t return to your world. Where will you go?”
“For now I’m spreading the news.”
Ahlen nodded. “Thank you. We have more time to prepare now. You should go, and quickly, to warn the others. ‘News and the Raen travel fast’, as they say.”
“Do they? I’ve not heard that quote before.”
“No, it fell out of favour.” The young sorcerer smiled. He slapped Tyen’s arm. “Best of luck, Tyen Ironsmelter. And beware of shadows in the place between.”
The parting warning from his friend hovered in Tyen’s mind as he made his way to his next destination. He found himself peering into whiteness, looking for movement, or human shapes more distinct than those of the world he was leaving or approaching. He was relieved when he finally reached his destination.
The arrival place was a circular pit carved out of solid black rock. Around the rim stood four guards. Hekkirg had told Tyen not to bother with the usual formalities when he visited. As she had instructed, he skimmed across the world to the humble collection of buildings that she and her husband occupied. Several additions had been made, he noted, including a large new wing from which smoke was belching from large chimneys.
Many more servants were about than he remembered, but when he emerged in the small entry hall at the front of the main house he found it empty. He was about to call out when a scuttling noise reached him. It came from alcoves carved near the base of the walls. The sound was familiar, but he was not sure why.