He slowed and approached cautiously. The tunnel widened; sleds had been left against one wall. The walls beyond were not black, but a dark void extending up, down and to either side. He brightened his flame and sent it out. It illuminated a great crack in the ice sheet the tunnel burrowed through. His light did not penetrate to the bottom of the chasm–or the top–and the crack curved away to either side, so he could not see how far it extended.
A bridge spanned the gap. Its beams were buried deep in the chasm walls on either side, forming two halves of an arch. They extended towards each other but did not meet in the middle. Perhaps they had aligned in the past, perhaps the ice walls had shifted before the bridge was finished, perhaps the builders had been incompetent. It did not matter. The gap had been patched with a new section, set at an angle and creating a kink in the span.
There was no railing. The bridge was too narrow for sleds. If Tyen hadn’t been warned, he would have sped on over the first wooden section and plummeted into the chasm.
Pushing his sled in behind the others, he climbed off and shouldered his bag. He started across the bridge. It was slippery with ice and he drew extra magic in case he had to steady himself, but he made it across without losing his balance. In the far tunnel were more sleds. He chose one and continued on.
The next pair of lamps revealed nothing, but as he pushed past them he heard bells ringing in the distance. Soon after, he saw a light at the end of the passage. A few hundred paces before it, a figure stepped out to block the way, silhouetted against the brightness beyond. Tyen stopped.
“Who are you?” a man asked.
“Tyen Ironsmelter.”
“Ah! Yira’s friend. Well, then, you can enter.”
“My thanks,” Tyen replied as the figure stepped out of the way. Pushing on, Tyen reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into a bright, glistening cavern.
As with the crack, the cavern walls in front and behind curved so that the far corners were out of sight. The roof, if there was one, was hidden in the darkness far above. Tyen wondered if the cave was another, smaller chasm, the lower half filled in to create a floor.
A few hundred people were sitting on makeshift beds, stools and chairs in the centre of the room, the only clear path through them leading to an opening into another cave. Most were women, he noted, and the only males were old men and boys. He searched a few minds and confirmed that they were the relatives of rebels. A few glanced up at him, but none appeared alarmed at his appearance. Nobody seemed inclined to greet him, either. As he let a little air through his barrier it brought the smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, cooking and garbage.
This could not be their base, he decided. It must be some kind of decoy base, and he would have to pass a test to go on to the real one. That didn’t make having the rebels’ families here any less dangerous, but perhaps it was a risk they couldn’t avoid.
Another row of sleds lined the wall he had just emerged from, so he manoeuvred his into place, climbed off, and picked up his bag. By then he’d attracted a small crowd of children. He hid his dismay. He’d expected a wary group of adults, not this.
“Who are you?” a boy asked.
He smiled at the bright, curious faces, earning grins in reply. “Tyen.”
“Are you here to fight?”
“Maybe.”
“We’re g’ta fight the Rrrraen,” the boy replied, growling out the name.” He jabbed his fingers in Tyen’s direction. “We’re g’ta zap zap zap him!”
“Well, then. It looks like I’m not needed here.” He looked around. “But it wouldn’t be polite to leave without saying ‘hello’. Do any of you know where I can find Yira?”
“Yira!” one of the girls shouted, spinning around as she searched the room. Another pointed to the cave opening.
“Through there?” Tyen asked.
They all nodded. He bowed in thanks, earning giggles, then set off towards the opening with the small crowd following.
People regarded him speculatively as he passed them. He nodded politely. Many were occupied in domestic tasks. One pair were washing clothes, the older woman up to her elbows in a tub of steaming water, the younger holding up garments, which steamed at her intent gaze.
When he was a few steps from the opening, a man emerged along with Yira. The man looked Tyen up and down, the first person to look concerned about the stranger in their midst. Yira grinned as she saw him.
“Tyen! I knew you’d join us. This is Ceilon.”
Ceilon was a little older than Tyen, taller and with a sallow complexion and high, thin eyebrows that made him look perpetually dismayed.
“Welcome, Tyen,” he said. “Do you know the purpose of our gathering here?”
Tyen looked at Yira. “I know it is not what Yira told me.”
“No?” Ceilon glanced at her. “What did she tell you?”
“That she and all her friends were going to live together somewhere safe. That was so out of character, I knew she must have meant something else, and the best explanation I could think of was a gathering of sorcerers for another purpose–and what with recent news it wasn’t hard to guess what it might be.”
Yira sniffed. “Took you a day or two to work it out, but then, you always were a bit slow.”
Ceilon looked from Tyen to Yira, then shook his head. “Yes, there is nowhere truly safe now that the Raen is back. Come through to our planning room.” He gestured for Tyen to walk beside him. “A few of our supporters are absent, but I will introduce you later. We have not chosen a permanent leader yet. We expect many more sorcerers will join us, and that some will come with greater experience in battle and strategy.”
“And leadership,” Yira added quietly.
The second cavern was smaller and round. Wooden crates were arranged in a circle and several men, mostly young, were sitting on them. All regarded Tyen with curiosity.
“This is Tyen Ironsmelter,” Ceilon told them as he led the way into the circle. “The strongest sorcerer of the former Liftre school of magic.”
“Well, that was never confirmed,” Tyen amended. He narrowed his eyes at Yira, who had moved away to stand by one of the crates. She smirked. What has she told them about me? he wondered.
“So you wish to join the rebellion?” one of the men said, rising from a crate. He was shorter than Tyen by half a head, but broad in the shoulders, his arms well muscled and his skin a mottled brown.
“This is Ayan,” Ceilon told Tyen. “In charge of the security of this base.”
Tyen turned to stare at Ceilon. “This is your base?” When Ceilon didn’t deny it, Tyen looked at Ayan for confirmation. The man nodded.
“It’s rough living,” Ceilon admitted, then straightened his shoulders. “But we are willing to put up with worse if it leads to worlds being free of the Raen’s control.”
Tyen looked back at the entrance to the larger room. “As am I. But if I can find you in a day or so, so could he.”
“I left you a clue only you would understand,” Yira reminded him. “The messengers at the market know only to tell certain people to go north to the ice and they don’t know why. And I told everyone here to expect you.”
“And if someone had caught me on the way here, or read my mind and followed me?” he asked.
She frowned and looked at Ayan, who scowled and said nothing.
Tyen turned back to Ceilon. “And why are you keeping your families here?”
“We have to keep them close, in case they are used against us,” Ceilon replied stiffly.
Tyen stared at him in amazement. Has nobody thought this through? Then he had to hide his relief as he realised this meant they were no danger to the Raen. If I tell him this, will he let them fumble about for a while until they get bored and go home? A darker thought passed through his mind, then. Will that be enough to earn his help restoring Vella?
“We do have other precautions in place,” Ayan said. “To join us, you must prove you are trustworthy. You must open your mind to us.”
> Tyen’s stomach sank. He couldn’t do that. Not without revealing his true reason for joining them. Not without revealing Vella. This was never going to work.
Yet the Raen expected Tyen to join them, and a man who had lived a thousand cycles and most likely outwitted countless uprisings would have guessed the rebels would require a mind-read. There must be a way around this. Even as the thought ran through his mind, he saw one that might work.
He straightened his shoulders and met Ayan’s gaze. “Of all the ridiculous things I’ve seen and heard here, that tops the list.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You refuse.”
“Of course.”
Tyen heard indrawn breaths. They must be wondering if that means I am a spy, and they’ve gone and let me into the heart of their base.
“Then you’re not welcome here.”
Tyen nodded and took a step backwards, towards the entrance. “I’ll respect your precautions, such as they are, and leave via the tunnel.”
“Wait!” Yira hurried to him and laid a hand on his arm, her gaze fierce. “Stay, Tyen. You might not agree with how things are done right now, but we’re all new at this. We’ve got to start somewhere.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but turned to the men. “You need sorcerers like Tyen. Not just because he’s strong, but because he’s smart. He invented mechanical magic. He will be useful when the battle comes.”
Tyen suppressed a shudder as he remembered Hekkirg’s adaption of his insectoids. Would the rebels expect him to do the same? Perhaps he could incorporate flaws so they concluded the insectoids weren’t as useful as they seemed.
“Rules must be followed,” Ayan told her, crossing his arms. “We have all proven we are not corrupt, many times.”
“Many? You mean you do it regularly?” Tyen shook his head in disbelief. “Even the people who leave to bring supplies?”
“Especially those,” Ceilon replied.
Tyen opened his mouth, closed it, turned and started walking away.
“Come back,” Yira said, grabbing him and hauling him to a stop. “You must all talk about this. Come to a compromise. What if Tyen opened his mind to you only once?”
“No,” Tyen said firmly.
“We all have private matters we’d rather not share,” she said. “But we are sworn to secrecy.”
“Until the Raen finds one of you, and learns everything about everyone.” Tyen looked around the group, meeting the eyes of each of the men. “If he truly can sense when people move between worlds, it’s only a matter of time before one of you is caught. When you are, the Raen won’t be learning all about my friends or where my family is, or the worlds I think might make good hiding places, or any strategy I might think could help defeat him. And most important of all, he won’t learn everything I know about mechanical magic. The only way I can be sure of that is to not let anybody read my mind.”
In the silence that followed, glances were exchanged. At first their expressions were questioning as they sought their fellows’ reactions, then a glint of rebellion passed from one to another, finally resolving into glares that fell on Ayan and Ceilon.
Well, that confirms who the temporary leaders are.
The two men, slim and stocky, regarded each other.
“He does have a point, Ayan,” Ceilon said, his expression challenging.
Ayan scowled. “But how else do we know he can be trusted?”
“The old-fashioned way. Watch and see. Loyalty proven by actions. Recommendations by people we know are trustworthy.”
“I can vouch for him,” Yira added.
Ayan looked around the group. “Perhaps we should adopt a two-tiered system. Only trusted members may attend strategy meetings. New members must earn the right.”
Ceilon nodded. “And as we already know the rest of us can be trusted, everyone here will be in the trusted group and all newcomers from now on, including Tyen, begin in the second.” He looked up at the rest of the men. “Do we all agree?”
Murmurs of assent followed.
“Disagree?”
Silence.
The two leaders turned to regard Tyen. “This means you cannot attend strategy meetings for now. Is that acceptable to you, Tyen Ironsmelter?” Ayan asked.
Tyen pretended to consider, then nodded. “It is.”
“Then if nobody objects, I welcome Tyen Ironsmelter to the rebellion,” Ceilon said. He turned to Yira. “Would you make the domestic arrangements?”
Her lips twisted. She didn’t reply, just hooked an arm in Tyen’s. “Come with me.”
The others remained silent as they walked away. Once in the larger room, Yira let out an exasperated sigh and let go of his arm.
“I don’t know who is worse, you or them,” she said.
Tyen smiled. “You think I should have let them read my mind?”
She pressed her lips together as she considered him. “No. I think you’re right. If we all know everything, everything will be discovered if the Raen catches one of us. But how else can we be sure none of the new recruits are spies?”
He shrugged. “Would it make any difference if one was? Any of the rebels in there could become an informant, willing or unwilling, between leaving here and returning. New members will only know a little about your plans, and if you–we–are sensible that’s all they will know.”
“Keep them ignorant of our plans? They might not put up with that. What’s the point of joining the rebellion if you get no say in the rebelling?”
“They’ll see the sense in it, once the reason is explained.” He looked back at the entrance to the other cavern. “Not everyone needs to know the finer details. Many will be content to know that plans are being made, and what the ultimate aim is. Those who do know the details should stay here to reduce the chance of their mind being read. Or rather, they should stay in a better hiding place, without all these people to feed and tend to. The more supplies you need, the more journeys outside required, the greater the risk someone will be followed here.”
Yira sighed. “You’re right. I was too busy trying to get them to take me seriously to think about it.” She stopped. They had reached a wall of the cavern. “I sleep here,” she said, pointing at an empty portion of floor between the wall and an elderly couple sipping a steaming drink from chipped cups. A thin mattress was bundled up and securely tied to a pack. Yira was ready to go at any moment, as any good warrior-trained Roihe woman should be. “You’ll have to squeeze in beside me.”
He nodded and deposited his pack next to hers. As the elderly couple looked up at them, Tyen inclined his head politely. They smiled.
“There’s melted water in a trough at the end of the cave”–Yira pointed to the left–“and we’ve made partitions so people can wash and relieve themselves in private. There’s often a queue after meal times. Sorcerers take it in turns to bring food in each day–yes, I know that’s risky. No need to lecture me about it. It’s up to each person or family to request particular supplies and arrange the cooking.”
Smoke was still rising from the small burner the couple had used to heat their drink. Tyen looked up. “The cave is adequately ventilated?”
“It can get a bit smoky in here. When it does, we push air through the tunnel, where it disperses in the rift. Roll out the mattress so you have something to sit on. I have to go back to the meeting.” She took a step away, then paused and leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Is that pendant you were wearing the other day what you don’t want them to see in…” She tapped her forehead.
Tyen’s heart skipped a beat. By “pendant” she must surely mean the satchel containing Vella.
“Yes and no,” he murmured. “I’d rather they didn’t know about it, but since you did before you joined them, and they’ve been reading your mind, surely they must have learned of it.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’d forgotten about it until you arrived. Can you tell me what it is?”
“A book.”
She rolled her yes. “I saw that. W
hat’s in it?”
“Knowledge I’d rather others didn’t abuse, which I am sure they would if they had it.”
“Anything that might help them defeat the Raen?”
He considered, and shook his head. Roporien would not have encouraged others to read Vella if she contained information on how to defeat him, and he had been nearly as powerful as the Raen.
“Well, I understand you don’t want to destroy your chances of a comfortable income in the future,” she said. “So long as you don’t withhold your inventions and discoveries when they’ll clearly help in the fight, I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s some food in my bag. Take it–I’ve got replacements on order. And you look like you could do with some sleep.”
“Do I?”
She nodded, then turned and strode back to the cave entrance. Tyen unrolled the mattress and sat down. He took Beetle from his bag and consulted the timepiece within the insectoid’s back. Nearly one and a half Leratian days had passed since he’d left Liftre. Putting Beetle back he found some dried fruit and salted nuts in Yira’s pack and ate enough to silence his growling stomach. Weariness was like an ache and when he finally lay down it felt wonderful.
But the voices around him kept him from slipping into slumber. He could hear conversations behind the laughter and protests of children. He tried to make out what the closest people were saying and failed, then found himself searching for and finding their minds instead.
Like a proper spy, he thought. Then he felt a chill. If any of the sorcerers here were stronger than him, and were reading his mind right now, they’d now know about his deal with the Raen. Since he had refused a mind-read, it was highly likely someone was watching him. If there is, and they’re stronger, the game is up anyway. I may as well have a look around.
The distance a sorcerer could read a mind from depended on his or her magical reach, but the further away a mind was the harder it was to isolate it among others. Particularly when many minds were between the reader and their target. But since Yira’s place was next to the cave wall, nobody was between him and the rebels within, and that made it easy to listen in on their discussion. The conversation, perceived by many ears and processed by several minds, was strangely amplified.