As she drew the magic in, the world around her darkened again. It wasn’t a lot, but every little bit could make a difference. Determined to spend as much time as she had left in the room being useful, she grabbed the mop head, shoved the stick into the top and scuffed out the patterns she’d made. Kicking off the head again, she began drawing, only this time depicting a tree. As each branch formed, she paused to search for and take the magic she was producing. A prickle of excitement ran over her skin each time her store of magic grew a little. Where before she had been desperate to leave the cloying damp of the room, now she hoped she had plenty of time before they came to release her.
If it’s true that you can’t be both a Maker and ageless, it’s likely I’ll lose the ability to pattern-shift. So I’ll only get one chance, because if I lose the pattern shifting ability before I’ve regained my Maker ability, I won’t be able to try it again. The risks in attempting it were even greater than she had first thought, and her determination to try faltered.
But the sooner she escaped, the greater the chance she could save Qall.
A faint sound reached her. A bell. Her heart began racing. It was the shift change signal. They would be coming for her soon.
What if she used all her remaining magic protecting herself from the beating?
It won’t use magic to look within and see what needs to be altered. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to concentrate. She used her understanding of pattern shifting to probe her own mind. Since she was not creating magic, she could not pinpoint which part needed restoring to its original state. Opening her eyes, she began drawing again. It was hard—almost impossible—to concentrate on both, but by switching rapidly from one task to the other, she gradually began to hone in on the part of her mind generating magic.
It would not take much magic to change it. No more than what she had generated here, drawing on the floor. She tried a subtle alteration. It barely depleted her store. Another bit of sketching led to a portion of magic generated and gathered, and more insight into what part of her mind was involved.
I can do this.
She resisted the urge to take a deep breath and began to shift her pattern. At first, the changes made no difference; then one shrank her production of magic down to almost nothing. Alarmed, she undid the change … and saw that she could reverse it yet further. She returned to drawing on the floor to test the result, and a sensation shivered through in her mind. It was familiar. Something missed, but not forgotten.
That’s it! She sought magic and found it rapidly spreading out in all directions. Gathering it, she revelled in the flood of power. It was tempting to return to drawing and generate more magic, but she concentrated on that part of her mind she had changed. Could this ability be enhanced further? She applied more magic, shifting the pattern more.
The door opened. Rielle extended a hand towards it and stilled the air within the opening. Ignoring the grunts and exclamations of surprise, she kept her attention on the floor. The broomstick appeared to move on its own as she seized it with magic so she could draw faster. Lines appeared …
… and the world turned white.
It was not truly white, of course. No more than that the blackness of magic’s absence was truly black. She stretched her senses out to find a great explosion of magic flooding outwards to cover the entire compound.
But … that’s more than I ever created before! Many, many times
more!
She turned her attention inwards again. Could she enhance her ability even further? Was it possible to go too far? Perhaps she should try another tiny change, and see what happened.
Except … she was not sure what she had done. Her attempt was an aimless floundering, and she soon stopped for fear of doing damage to herself. Puzzled, she stared blankly at her surroundings as she tried to work out why.
How could I understand it one moment, then not the next? She drew in a sharp breath as she realised what she’d done. It’s true! Before I was ageless, I wasn’t able to comprehend pattern shifting. Now I can’t again.
The part of her mind that had been altered so she could understand how to change patterns now generated magic.
The same part. I can do one or the other. Never both.
The loss of agelessness brought a rush of fear, but she did not fight it. She let it wash over her and it soon faded away. Perhaps one day she would change herself back to an ageless sorcerer again, but for now being mortal was her route to freedom. In the meantime, being a Maker again filled her with joy … and surprise.
Losing her Maker ability had not mattered to her before. She had still been able to create—once she’d got past her initial fear of losing that ability as well—and that mattered more to her than whether she could generate a little magic or a great deal. In exchange, she could live as long as she wanted, if she wasn’t killed by somebody or something. She could also heal herself and others, which she had come to value even more.
And yet, this felt right. It felt as if something that had been stolen had been returned. It felt like she was her full self again.
Well, then. I hope being my natural self is worth getting old and dying for.
But not today.
She had made a great deal of magic in her previous moments of drawing, but she needed more to escape the world—and the sooner the better. Turning her attention to the room again, she swept away the mould and muck on a wall then started a new picture, this time carving lines with magic. She did not bother to pause and take in the magic she made. She just drew.
She drew the factory workers. Not hunched over their work, but standing. Not burdened with piles of clothing, but dressed in finery, surrounded by children wearing shoes, eating a feast, and living in houses that did not open into the street. She drew the delta waterways filled with boats, fishermen and women hauling in nets, the water clean.
When she was done, she sent her mind out, smiling as she sensed plentiful magic spreading across the world. She searched for the furthest edge of it, and the longer her mind travelled, the more astonished she grew. When she finally reached the limit, a multitude of minds prickled her senses. The entire city. Holes were forming as other sorcerers gathered in as much as they could. At the centre of each void, she found the minds of men and women, puzzled by the return of magic but relieved that their control over the workers would not slip any further into revolution.
Rielle’s stomach sank. Before Qall had stripped the world, magic had helped to keep workers like these sewers in bondage. With her new ability, she could escape the world and leave it restored, but now she saw that this would only leave in place the societal structure that oppressed these and many, many other workers.
Who am I to judge them? she thought. Valhan said you can never predict the result of your meddling.
But whether she restored the magic of this world or not, she was still meddling. Qall, by stripping it, had already upset the balance of power. Even if she restored the magic, the idea of revolution would not easily fade.
And I have a foolish young sorcerer to rescue. Again.
She could not leave without doing one more thing, however. She turned to the opposite wall and drew the foremen kneeling on the ground before the workers, handing out coins. Then she wrote: “Rise before the magic returns.”
Done, she took all of the magic she had generated, drew a deep breath and pushed out of the world.
CHAPTER 17
Having to stop and catch her breath slowed Rielle’s journey through the worlds more than she liked. Added to that, she soon had to give into hunger and weariness, taking time to sleep. Finding something to eat was the hardest. She followed Tarran’s advice, skimming to the kitchen of palaces and mansions and taking food from people who clearly wouldn’t starve as a result, though she hated to think of the punishment kitchen workers might be suffering as a result of her theft.
She had been trapped for several days, and enough time had passed since Inekera and Qall had travelled on from the factory wor
kers’ world for their trail to have gone cold. It would take far longer for Inekera and Qall to reach Dahli, and it was an extra source of frustration to know that they were still travelling towards him as she set out after them, and yet she could not possibly catch up. Even if she could have, she did not know where Dahli was. When she reached worlds she recognised, she had to conclude that, unless something had delayed Inekera and Qall, they would have reached Dahli by now.
What can I do? If only she knew where Qall was she could try to rescue him. Though she might not be ageless any more or be able to heal any wounds she might sustain, if she gathered enough magic, she was still one of the most powerful sorcerers in the worlds. Nearly as strong as Valhan, and it would have taken an army to defeat him. Though I’ve almost no experience in fighting—
just Tarran’s lessons to call upon.
Where might Dahli be hiding? Who would know?
Tyen.
But he wasn’t likely to give her that information, if she could even find him in the first place. Nor was he likely to tell Tarran.
The Travellers?
It was possible that Qall had insisted that Inekera let him visit his family before joining Dahli, to ensure they were unharmed. He might have demanded for them to be given a way to contact him, and he to communicate with them. As Rielle had reasoned before, blackmail depended on the blackmailed person being able to see if threats were or could be carried out. If Rielle followed a message from them to Qall, she might find Dahli.
But if Rielle was seen near the Travellers, it might be mistaken as a rescue attempt. By approaching them, she might trigger the attack Dahli was threatening.
If Qall had been seen during his journey to meet Dahli—and he hadn’t been making any attempt to hide his face when he’d left her stranded—the news that the Raen was back would spread faster than gossip. She might be able to track Qall by these sightings.
But she doubted Dahli would allow such an obvious trail to exist. He’d make Qall hide his face and conceal him somewhere.
Such rumours would surely reach Baluka. So would any sightings of Dahli. He might have found Valhan’s hand since she’d met up with him, or already dealt with Dahli. Even if he hadn’t, he would have been gathering information and preparing for a battle with the Raen since she’d left.
He was the most useful person to seek out. That’s what I’ll do.
Contacting Baluka was easy. Previously, she had sent a message from one of the many worlds that supported the Restorers, as she had wanted their meeting to be private. She could not think of any reason to meet him in secret this time—at least, none that were worth the delay anyway—so she would approach the Restorers openly.
It did not take long to find a group of them. They sent a message to Baluka and she waited among them, listening to local news of the worlds, until the reply came. The messenger asked a few questions to confirm that she really was who she said she was, then took her on the first leg of a convoluted journey to meet Baluka.
The third guide left her with instructions that took her to a city bustling with countless people. Despite this, it was a clean and ordered place. Bright sunlight set the local white stone sparkling and brightened carefully tended gardens. Looking into the minds of the closest people, she read of small, ordinary anxieties like whether a person had forgotten an item on their shopping list or if the loaves in the oven were burning.
She had been instructed to enter the tallest building in the city. This turned out to be a large, square building three stories tall in the centre of the city. The locals thought it boring, and she had to agree. As she made her way down the path to the entrance, she searched the many minds within. Most were occupied in administrative tasks, but she chanced upon a group considering how to tackle worlds where war and opposition to the Restorers’ laws against torture and slavery still continued. Surprised, she checked her stride. This was the Restorers’ base. She had expected Baluka to arrange a meeting, not bring her here.
Finding Baluka’s mind among all the rest would take more time than she had to spare, so she headed for the main doors. Guards watched from discrete positions. They had been told to expect a woman of her description to approach, and to let her pass.
A thin young man was waiting in the hall inside.
“Rielle Lazuli?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Follow me.”
He led her through a small door into a narrow central stairway that descended to the lower floors, having only been told to take her to a particular corridor to meet another Restorer. As she followed, she let her mind touch lightly on all those around her, taking in the general mood of the place. Baluka had ordered for a review of their assets, strength and alliances. Many wondered if this was in reaction to a threat. Perhaps from the Spy—or delivered by the Spy.
The guide brought her to another, who took Rielle down more staircases. From this woman she learned that the true height of the structure was almost triple what it appeared to be. And more: beneath the ground, away from the bright sunlight that drenched the rest of the city, Baluka spent most of his days. The sorcerers who protected him were loyal and much stronger than him, and had insisted he should not leave to meet Rielle. They could—and had—gathered in large enough numbers that they could step in and allow him to flee if her intentions were murderous—or if she wasn’t who she claimed to be.
With these clues, she was finally able to locate Baluka’s mind. He was pacing his rooms, worrying. He had recognised her face in the mind of the messenger, but memory could be unreliable. He’d told only the stronger and most loyal of his generals who he’d learned of Tyen’s betrayal from, but it wasn’t impossible that their minds had been read and someone was taking advantage of Baluka’s willingness to meet Rielle to get close to him.
He was also worried about her reasons for returning, and for approaching him openly rather than in secret. Has Dahli found Qall? he was wondering. Has he resurrected Valhan?
She knew then that he hadn’t found Valhan’s hand. Nor had he heard whether Qall was in Dahli’s control. Slowing, she considered whether she still needed to see him or would do better on her own, then quickened her strides again. With his network of Restorers and supporters, he was the best chance she had of finding and freeing Qall.
At last, the guide stopped outside a door. She knocked, then stepped back and nodded to Rielle.
The door opened. Baluka gazed at her for a moment, then smiled and stepped aside.
“Rielle. It is you. Come in.”
As she entered, he closed the door. He ushered her to a set of large, cushioned chairs surrounding a low table covered in plates and bowls of food, and a range of liquids in bottles and jugs.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“Both,” she admitted. “It’s not easy travelling between worlds with nothing to trade. At least, not easy to do it quickly.” As she settled in one of the chairs, she sensed his anxiety rising. She did not reach for the food, instead waiting until he sat down.
“Not long after I reached Qall,” she began, “I discovered that one of Dahli’s searchers had been in our area. Before I could move us away, Qall disappeared. I followed him, and got close enough to discover that he was in the company of a sorcerer named Inekera—one of Valhan’s old allies. He told me to stop following him and managed to slip away.”
Baluka frowned. “He joined her willingly?” Then he shook his head. “Ah, no—she blackmailed him as you feared.”
“Probably. I’ve lost his trail, so I came here. I figured you would have heard if anyone had seen someone looking like Valhan.”
He nodded. “I probably would, but I haven’t. However, my watchers tell me Dahli has gathered together a large group of powerful allies and set up a base within a world surrounded by dead worlds. We’re worried that this means Tyen is close to succeeding in resurrecting the Raen.”
“So you know where he is?”
“Yes. A world surrounded by dead worlds would work to keep sorc
erers in as much as out,” he pointed out.
She sighed. “It’s a prison. Qall is there.”
“He might not be—”
“Has anything happened to your family?”
Baluka sighed and massaged his temples. “Dahli has sorcerers in place, ready to attack if Qall, you or any Restorer approaches them.” She could see his frustration and fear for them. “Dahli has allowed them to keep trading, so I do get information from the people they have visited. So far nobody has been harmed.”
“Can you get a message to them?”
“If I do, Dahli’s watchers will read their minds and know I have.”
“Hmm. He won’t destroy his only means of persuading Qall just because you contacted them. Ulma might be strong enough to shield her mind from being read, too.”
“She is strong enough to be ageless, but not as strong as Dahli and his more powerful allies.”
Rielle drummed her fingers on her knees. “If I can get Qall away—”
“Dahli will retaliate,” Baluka cut in. “He knows you love them as much as Qall does.”
“I can’t abandon Qall,” she told him.
He drew in a deep breath and nodded as he let it out. “I figured as much. What are you planning?”
She looked away. “I have no plan, yet.”
He crossed his arms. “You’re not going into Dahli’s base alone. For a start, what if that is what he wants? What if Qall isn’t there and it’s a trap, designed to strand you there?”
Rielle opened her mouth to tell him about her new ability to generate extraordinary amounts of magic, then hesitated. She hadn’t had time to consider all the consequences yet. Better to keep that fact to herself for now.
“You can send someone to fetch me,” she replied.
Baluka considered her in silence. She watched his thoughts shift, weighing risks and possible gains, and what she might do. Finally, he took a breath and shaped those thoughts into words.
“The Restorers are ready for a fight. We’ve tried to find Valhan’s hand, but none of us is surprised that we haven’t. We’ve been focusing on the next best thing: to kill the only person who knows where it is.”