Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(109)



The Raen should forbid the teaching of inferior races, he thought. He rubbed a scar on his neck, remembering an old slight. And women. The memory the man then savoured made Tyen recoil, and the rage inside him flare brighter. But when he sought Resca’s mind again in order to locate him, the man was gone.

No! I can’t lose him now. He left the world and sought the ally in the place between. He detected a shadow. It changed course, and sped towards him, resolving into human form: a short, overweight man with sallow skin. It was not what Tyen had been expecting, though the ally’s gleeful expression was.

“Got you,” Resca said, and a little shock went through Tyen as the man grabbed his arm.

In response, Tyen twisted, took hold of Resca’s wrist, then pulled them both back towards the world. The sorcerer’s eyes widened and Tyen felt some resistance, but not enough to prevent him dragging the man back into the room he’d just left.

As they arrived, Resca yanked his arm out of Tyen’s grip. He backed away and stared, fear rising as he discovered he could not read this stranger’s mind, then fading as he realised who this must be.

“You.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re the leader, right? The one the Raen said not to kill.” He raised a hand to his chin and drummed his fingers. “You’re one of us.”

“No,” Tyen replied.

“Yes, you are. You’re a spy. Why else would he not want you dead?”

“I expect he wants to kill me himself.”

Tyen drew magic and watched as Resca tried in vain to find the edge of the darkness. The man’s smile vanished. He took a step back.

“But—”

Tyen’s attack beat down the man’s feeble defence in moments. Resca made an animal-like wail of disbelief and terror. He fell to his knees.

“Please! Don’t kill me! I will leave. I will go far away. I will never harm a rebel again.”

Reaching into the man’s body, Tyen shivered as he located the pulse within. A quick stilling of the heart and it would be over, faster and more merciful than what Resca had done to the rebels he’d slaughtered. Or at least a great deal less messy.

But he hesitated.

The man certainly deserved to die. He had done terrible things, not just to the rebels, but to others. It would take just one small flexing of will and he could harm nobody else.

Yet it was as if Tyen’s will had died instead.

And then he saw it: the memory of Yira clutching her chest, and the agony on her face. It had happened so fast, yet he remembered it so clearly. A moment preserved for ever in his memory.

He couldn’t do that to anyone. Not even this man.

Some other way, then. But the fury had left him now. The man’s fear beat against his thoughts. From Resca’s lips came promises he fiercely intended to keep, if he had the chance to.

Tyen straightened, then blinked as he realised he was standing over the man, who lay whimpering on the floor.

“Swear on the Raen’s name that you will leave this world,” Tyen demanded. “Leave the allies. Never harm anyone, rebel or otherwise, again. Next time we meet be sure that I find no reason to regret letting you go.”

“I will. I will. You won’t. I swear–may the Raen flay my body and break my soul.”

Letting go of a little of the magic he’d gathered, Tyen watched as Resca drew it into himself. As soon as the man had gathered enough to leave, he vanished. As Tyen let the rest of the magic flood out it filled the void he’d created. He pictured sorcerers in the city and far beyond sighing with relief, knowing only that a powerful sorcerer had been preparing to do something terrible, then either changed their mind or found there was no need.

And Resca? His stomach twisted. He means to do what he promised, but for how long? If he encountered the other allies, the man would be as easily bullied into breaking his word. They were recruiting sorcerers to the Raen’s cause as enthusiastically as the rebels were to theirs. And could a man of Resca’s temperament, who was convinced he was a superior form of human, not cause anyone harm again? He had only to reason that “anyone” didn’t include those he considered sub-human or inferiors.

Relief at not killing the man was poisoned with regret and worry. But the decision could not be unmade. Resca was no doubt putting as much distance between himself and Tyen as he could, and Tyen’s regret was not powerful enough to force him to give chase.

Even so, when he pushed away from the world he followed the man’s path. To his relief, Resca’s trail led straight out of the world.

I should have killed him, shouldn’t I, Vella?

“Strategically it would have made greater sense. But strategic thinking too often underestimates and undervalues the emotional impact of decisions. After all, the reason to kill him is to prevent him causing harm, yet killing him would have harmed you in ways that may cause further harm later, to yourself, and depending on how badly you are harmed, others as well as yourself.”

Then it is a matter of the degree of harm. He will cause more harm to others than I’d do to myself by killing him.

“Yet if he never harms another person, the degree of harm avoided is greater.”

What is the chance of that?

“Impossible to say without knowing him better. It would be easier to estimate if we knew what motivated him.”

I doubt it is a sense of right or wrong.

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