“Thank you.” Baluka sighed, then straightened his shoulders. “At least the Raen is gone. We have only the allies to deal with now.”
Tyen nodded. Which was the Raen’s intention all along. All the odd instructions the Raen had given him made sense now. He’d wanted the rebels to grow in strength so that, once they believed they’d defeated him, they’d then have the confidence and ability to hunt down all the allies afterwards.
We might have dealt with the allies first. Then he would never have needed to stage his death. But he knew a clever rebel leader would attack the greater target first, while plenty of supporters were eager to fight and were not yet discouraged by the death toll that would come from targeting allies.
“Do you think you can get rid of all the allies?” Tyen asked.
“Most of them,” Baluka replied. “We have even greater support now the news of the Raen’s death has spread. These recruits aren’t willing to wait in their worlds for a signal. There are so many at our new base that we outnumber the allies a thousandfold. The hard part is coordinating them all–keeping them from going off on their own to target an ally.” He grimaced. “I now have over a hundred generals. With Hapre returning to her world, and Volk and Frell dead, it is like starting afresh. It would be good to have a familiar face around.” Something shadowed Baluka’s thoughts and face. Bad news. Something he didn’t want to have to tell Tyen.
Tyen frowned. “What is it?”
Baluka’s eyebrows rose. “Have you not already read it from my mind?”
“Do you want me to?”
Pushing away from the wall, Baluka walked to the table and filled a mug from the water jug. “Perhaps it would be easier,” he said. Taking a sip, he grimaced. Even the water tasted of clay in this world of potters. “Yes. It is the only way to be sure what I tell you isn’t overheard.”
So Tyen looked closer, and his stomach sank.
Everyone thinks you were a spy for the Raen, Baluka was thinking. Nobody knows where the rumour started but it is too widespread to stop.
“What do you believe?” Tyen asked.
“I think it is the allies trying to weaken us.” Baluka shrugged. “But I have to consider all possibilities.”
“Of course.”
“If you return with me you will have to prove your innocence, probably several times. My trust in you is no longer enough.”
Tyen nodded as he saw the impossible situation he was in. “And if I don’t, everyone will think I am guilty.”
“Yes.”
The trouble was, Tyen mused, he was guilty. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Baluka, but I have already decided not to rejoin the rebels.”
Baluka’s smile was humourless. “I didn’t think you would want to, but after everything that’s happened I thought I should give you the option.”
“Thanks.”
“So what will you do?”
Tyen considered his options. If the former rebels thought he was an ally they would try to kill him. If the allies were the source of the rumour then they knew he wasn’t, and would try to kill him. Only the Raen’s most loyal friends would welcome him, but he didn’t wish to stay with them.
He could venture out on his own and find a remote world to settle in and concentrate on restoring Vella. The worlds would sort themselves out. And maybe it’s time to make the change to agelessness. It might make it easier to survive, if rebels or allies find me. Though it doesn’t seem to be helping the allies survive rebel attacks.
If he survived long enough he’d outlive the rumours, even if they were true–even if he admitted they were true. It would be so much easier to stop pretending. The temptation to confess everything to Baluka rose again, but he resisted it. He didn’t need Baluka trying to kill him on top of everyone else.
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” Tyen replied. “And… I’m sorry, Baluka, but it’d be better if I didn’t tell you what I’m considering in case someone reads it from your mind.”
Baluka nodded. “I understand.” Moving back to the window, he looked out over the city and sighed. “My role has reversed. Where I had to stir people to action before, now I’m now trying to encourage restraint. Not all allies exploited others, and not all were free to choose who they made deals with. But things are getting… out of hand.”
Tyen nodded. “I’ve heard.” The rebels now considered themselves liberators and avengers. Others called them conquerors and punishers, upsetting order and creating chaos. “Perhaps you should stop calling yourselves rebels. After all, the man you rebelled against is dead. Pick something to suit the direction you want to steer them in.”
Baluka turned to look at Tyen. “You’re right. Something like ‘restorers’ or ‘rebuilders’ perhaps. That might compel them to consider fixing the damage all the liberating and avenging is doing. And it might attract the help of allies who genuinely wish to atone for their past wrongs.” He smiled. “Perhaps you need a better title, too.”
Tyen winced. “What are they calling me?”
“Nothing yet,” Baluka said, a little too quickly, but Tyen read it from his mind. The Spy. “What would you like to be known as?”
A dozen words flashed into Tyen’s mind. Scout is what I was for the rebels, except during the battle. And the last thing Baluka asked me to do was find Rielle. Searcher? Seeker? Finder?
They were all words to do with spying. The good and acceptable part of spying. In the end, whether “spy” was good or bad only depended on whose side you were on.
His skin tingled as another option occurred to him. What if he accepted the name they’d given him? Could I turn this rumour to my advantage? He considered Vella’s suggestion that he seek Dahli’s help. He would be able to warn Baluka if Dahli’s friends found another way to resurrect the Raen. He might be able to stop them finding Rielle, or help her if they did.
If he managed any of these things, his spying would become admired, not reviled.
“Call me ‘Spy’,” he said. “Let them wonder who it is I’m spying for.”
Baluka’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed with a faint snap. His eyes narrowed, then as he began to guess what Tyen had in mind he started to smile.
“Very well then, Spy. I would not want to be in your position, but then, I’m not overly keen on mine at the moment, either.”
“You are more suited to it than me, Baluka. Just… my advice is: it’s time to give it up when someone better comes along. Try not to ignore or deny it when that happens. Otherwise it could be someone worse who takes your place.”
Baluka nodded. “I will.” He pushed away from the window and, to Tyen’s surprise, hugged him briefly. “Thank you. If nobody else remembers what you did for us, know that I always will.”
The guilt lurking at the back of Tyen’s mind stirred again. Nodding, pretending to be too overcome to speak, he stepped back and pushed out of the world, into the comforting whiteness of the place between.
RIELLE
When the wagons emerged out of the white, Rielle caught her breath. Her time among the Travellers seemed like the past of another person, not her own. Yet the sight filled her with longing.
And regret. Not guilt any more. Despite everything that had happened since leaving them, she still believed she had made the right choice when she had left. Time away had brought a clarity she hadn’t been able to find while among them. She could forgive the woman she had been, lost and vulnerable, for choosing what had been the safest future. The offer of a loving family had been too powerful to resist. She had been raised among people who arranged marriages and, having rebelled against the prospect of one as a young woman, accepting it had felt like she was finally behaving like a grown-up.
And yet, it had been cowardly and dishonest.
Did that make accepting the Raen’s offer a childish or brave decision?
It, too, had been the best decision at the time. And not just for her. She hadn’t been entirely sure what he would do to the Travellers, and to Baluka, if she refused. N
ow, having seen into his memories, she knew she had been right to worry. Perhaps he would have taken her with him anyway. But if he’d given her reason to hate him, he could not have trusted her to resurrect him.
Turns out he couldn’t trust me anyway, she mused. A thousand cycles old and he still could not see that, despite what I’d done in the past–because of what I’d done in the past–I would not kill someone. Someone who wasn’t threatening me or someone I loved, that is, she added, thinking of Gabeme.
And, thinking of Gabeme, she wondered if she would have completed the resurrection if she hadn’t killed someone less than a day before. If her horror at killing hadn’t been fresh. That thought disturbed her, and she was glad when a movement among the wagons caught her attention.
She held her breath.
An explosive giggle came from the young man standing beside her. He was staring at one of the wagons–at the wheels. No, she corrected, between the wheels. Small brown faces peered out. They were grinning, but as the Boy took a step towards them they withdrew into the shadows.
He made a noise of protest, dropped into a crouch and began to crawl forward. Rielle bent and grabbed his arm.
“No, Boy,” she told him. “Stay with me. Stand up.” His face fell, and he straightened.
Three men and a woman stepped around the wagon. Their manner and expressions were friendly, but she saw wariness in their minds. They would not like it if they knew she was reading their minds, but she had decided, for her safety and the Boy’s, that she could never risk holding back from reading a mind again.
The woman gasped.
“Rielle!” She held out her hands as if she was about to come forward and embrace Rielle, but then quickly dropped them to her sides again. “Welcome,” she said, her tone more formal. Her gaze shifted to the Boy and she frowned and shuddered as she read his broken mind.
“Ankari,” Rielle replied. “Thank you. Is Lejikh here? I wish to ask him–all of you–for advice.”
Ankari’s expression became serious. “He is trading, but he will be back soon. I can speak in his place.” She glanced at the others in turn. One shook his head, the rest shrugged. “Come in and wait with us.” She beckoned and the Travellers retreated between the wagons.
Rielle guided the Boy after them, never letting go of his arm because he had caught sight of the children again and wanted to go to them. As they stepped into the circle he was smiling broadly. Most of the other Travellers had gathered, and the rest were emerging from or peering out of wagons. Ankari led Rielle and the Boy under a canopy strung between the wagons, to rugs placed in a ring around the cold embers of a fire. As Ankari invited Rielle to sit, the rest of the Travellers settled down to listen.
Rielle wanted, badly, to ask after Baluka. Had he visited them since he’d left? Had he survived the battle with Valhan? Had he forgiven her? But she could not bring herself to broach the subject. Yet.
“Who is this?” Ankari asked as they sat down.
“I don’t know,” Rielle admitted. “He doesn’t remember his name.”
“I see that. You call him ‘Boy’.” She shook her head. “He needs a name.”
At the word “boy”, he stopped staring at the children, who were now lying under the wagons, then began to stare in fascination at the fans the Travellers were using to cool themselves. It was very hot. Rielle hadn’t noticed. Her mind was unconsciously pattern shifting her body to adapt to the temperature.
“I was hoping if I didn’t give him another, he’d remember what it had been before,” she explained.
“Before what?”
Meeting Ankari’s eyes, Rielle lowered her voice, not wanting to give the Traveller children nightmares. “Before his mind was emptied of memories.”
The woman looked at the Boy. “Maybe it is better you don’t remember,” she said. Then she smiled, because he had beamed at her. He hadn’t understood a word, but he had decided he liked her. “He is like a child, and yet not,” she said, looking at Rielle. “Is he his child?”
“No.”
“Yet he looks a little like him. People will wonder. They may assume he is yours as well, if they know where you were but not the timing of events.”
Rielle shook her head. “He is not mine, but I feel he is my responsibility now. Do you… do you think he could regain his memories? Those he has now began returning to him soon after I first rescued him, as if his mind was healing. But once he woke fully they stopped.”
“Our healer may be able to help him.”
“If she can be visited safely.” Rielle grimaced. “If you can make any kind of arrangement without endangering your family and people. There are sorcerers–powerful, ageless sorcerers–looking for us. For him.” She looked at the Boy. “To finish what was started.”
Ankari nodded. She met the gaze of each of the other Travellers. Rielle held her breath as they made small signals to indicate whether they were in favour of helping the Boy. She looked for signs they might turn him over to the Raen’s friends, or the rebels, or even kill him. If they decided to punish her for encouraging their leader’s son to believe she loved him, giving him the motive to leave them and join the rebels when she left, she’d understand. But she wouldn’t allow them to harm the Boy.
As she followed their silent conversation the tension and worry in her eased. She saw sympathy towards both her and the Boy. The child needed help, and the Travellers always tried to assist when they could. They knew of a thousand places to hide. After many, many cycles bound to an agreement with the Raen, they could at last do something to redress a small part of the damage he had done.
Ankari turned back to Rielle. “We will help this young man.”
Letting out the breath she had been holding, Rielle sagged with relief. “Thank you.”
“But you must leave him with us,” Ankari added. “You may come with me to visit the healer, but you must not know where we take him afterwards.”
Rielle’s heart sank. “I can’t leave him. He is my responsibility.”
“And you have brought him to those you thought would best take care of him.”
The woman’s gaze was steady, yet Rielle hesitated.
“Look into my mind,” Ankari invited.
A familiar face appeared in the woman’s thoughts. A face grown much older than it should have, since she’d last seen it. While Lejikh and Ankari were saddened by how things had gone between Rielle and their son, they were proud of him, for though the elders had decided he could never live among them again, he had brought about the end of the Raen’s dominance over the worlds. Despite being no match in strength to what Valhan had been. No Successor had defeated the Predecessor this time. Just a humble Traveller.
“He’s alive,” Rielle whispered, then bowed her head. “I am so sorry.”
“It was not your fault,” Ankari said. “Baluka said you never told him you loved him, and you know we Travellers marry for many reasons other than love. Those decisions can be reversed with no blame on either side. Every decision was right at the time it was made.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on Rielle’s arm. “You cannot stay with the Boy because he is safest that way. You must keep the Raen’s friends’ eyes from him. Distract them. Draw them away.” She leaned back again. “If we take him you must not seek us out. We will find a way to keep you informed of his progress.”
Rielle looked at the Boy. Ankari was right. She had been floundering from world to world since she’d told the handsome sorcerer to leave her. Even getting food was immensely difficult when you had to keep watch over a youth with the mind of a child and with an uncanny resemblance to the Raen.
Dahli was right. I know nothing. I have to fill the gaps in my knowledge–how to fight, how to travel between worlds rather than careen between them.
“The Boy needs a name,” Ankari decided. She looked at the Boy and smiled. “Let’s call him Qall. It means ‘mother’s hope’ in Lindori, and he looks a little like a Lindorian.”
Rielle touched Qall’s arm. He
turned to her, his gaze full of trust. Her heart twisted as she remembered how he had screamed when she’d first drawn him out of his forced sleep.
“Do you like your new name, Qall?” she asked.
He blinked, not comprehending. She touched her chest. “Rielle. I am Rielle.” She touched his. “Qall. You are Qall.”
His mouth opened, twitched and a breathy sound came out.
“All,” he said. “Qall.”
Ankari chuckled. “He’s a fast learner.”
Rielle nodded. He may never remember who he was or know what he was supposed to become, but at least among the Travellers he will learn to be a new person among good, kind people. In a family, who can teach him how to survive in the worlds. That is more than I can provide, for now. Until she could offer more, she would do everything she could to keep him safe.
Even if that meant going far, far away.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Once again, much gratitude and a salute to my publishers and agents, who do all the hard work to take my stories from my little laptop to the readers of the world. A big hug goes to Fran Bryson, Liz Kemp, Paul Ewins, Donna Hanson and Kerri Valkova, who helped me knock the kinks out of the tale. And lastly, a huge “thanks!” to each and every reader who bought, borrowed, read and recommended my books. It is wonderful to know my little stories are being enjoyed all around the world, from new readers to those who have been with me from the start.
BY TRUDI CANAVAN
The Magician’s Apprentice
The Black Magician trilogy
The Magicians’ Guild
The Novice
The High Lord
Age of the Five
Priestess of the White
Last of the Wilds
Voice of the Gods
The Traitor Spy trilogy
The Ambassador’s Mission
The Rogue
The Traitor Queen