Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(158)

The sharp, colourless world came and went as quickly. Tyen held his breath, avoiding the painfully cold air. The green, bubbling marsh replaced it. Still holding his breath, he listened for the sound of an intake of breath or a gasp of pain. None came. All remembered the warning. The poisoned world faded.

They knew they had arrived at the bright world only by their sudden ability to breathe, which many took advantage of. As planned, Baluka paused a little longer, allowing all to recover. Tyen closed his eyes against the brightness until the sound of breathing was silenced. Their surroundings began to darken. Tyen knew some would be apprehensive, since most of the fighters had noted the horror in the rebel leader’s voice as he’d described what he’d seen.

Blackness embraced them. It was too easy to imagine it was thick and cloying, like the strange liquid that surrounded the arrival place. Baluka did not stop to illuminate the world, however, but moved them straight onward, only a fleeting impression of cool air confirming they’d arrived at all.

And now: the Raen’s world. A different kind of dread grew within Tyen. He was glad of the lack of physical sensation between worlds. Without it, he’d be feeling as sick with fear as Baluka had been when they’d first tested the path. He recalled what the Raen had advised:

“I suggest you find a reason not to be there.”

But he had promised himself he’d try to prevent as many rebel deaths as possible. To do that, he had to be at the battle. The rebels were relying on him to transport them away again.

“I advise you to choose your moment of betrayal carefully,” the Raen had also said.

Baluka’s decision that Tyen should not fight, so his strength was reserved for transporting everyone away, had also presented the possibility that Tyen could continue to hide his true role among them. Since Tyen would not be actively taking part in the battle it would not be strange if the Raen did not attack him.

But if the situation got desperate, Baluka might change his mind and order Tyen to fight. Tyen wasn’t sure what he’d do then. Refuse? If he did, he doubted the rebel leader would forgive him. Obey? Could he pretend, convincingly, to fight the Raen? Would the Raen oblige by pretending in return? How could they end such a mock battle?

The scenario he hoped for was one where the rebels expelled all their energy and realised the fight was hopeless, and Baluka gave the order to take them away, which Tyen managed without anyone being harmed. This fantasy also included them giving up, going home and living safe and long lives.

No matter how unlikely that is, he thought, if I don’t try to make it happen it never will. Though the last part is up to them. I can’t protect them from what comes after the battle.

Shapes were emerging from the whiteness. Walls, floor and ceiling grew discernible. The hall had plenty of room for a few hundred rebels to arrive in while huddled together, but the arrangement would be too constrictive in battle. Even standing close together, there was not enough space for the thousands that had gathered earlier.

A huge timepiece filled the wall in front of him, which he did not recall from Resca’s or Javox’s mind. The mechanism didn’t appear to be moving, however, locked at some point of time relevant to those who lived in the Raen’s palace. Below it was a raised area, a half-circle a step higher than the rest of the hall. On it was a chair.

The chair was occupied.

Tyen recognised the sitter, though the man was only a dark shape in a dimly lit room, and a shiver ran down his spine.

The Raen. Trust my luck that I’m on the side of the army facing him.

The ruler of worlds was watching calmly, one elbow resting on the arm of the chair. His chin was propped on his hand. As everything sharpened into full focus Tyen saw the man’s expression was… unconcerned.

Warm air touched Tyen’s skin. As one, all the rebels dragged in a much-needed breath and bright flames sparked into life and filled the room with light. The sound of shuffling feet came from behind Tyen as the rebels spread out and turned to face their enemy. He created a shield. Parts of it failed or bent around air already controlled by the sorcerers either side of him.

Silence followed.

“Attack!” Baluka shouted.

The air sizzled with magic. Tyen’s mouth went dry and his heart began to pound, and the sick feeling he’d anticipated made his stomach tighten. The Raen remained seated, only straightening a little, his arm unbending and hand falling to rest on the arm of the chair.

Tyen glanced behind. Lines of rebels stood between him and Baluka. He began to move through them. As the sorcerers continued to spread out so that they did not have to attack over the heads of the fighters in front, they seemed to melt out of his path. Stepping around the last of them he met Baluka advancing from the rear, keeping close behind his army. Tyen moved to the rebel leader’s side.

“Just as I thought,” Baluka said, not taking his eyes off the Raen. “There is no magic here.”

Tyen stretched out, finding nothing. The entire world was…

“No. There is some, far, far away,” he corrected. “There’s not much. It would get us out of this world and maybe through a few others, but not all the way back to the tower.”

“What’s his game, do you think?”

“By leaving a little magic? I don’t know.”

“Not that.” Baluka frowned. “Why isn’t he fighting back?”

The Raen had shifted position again, and was now leaning forward, elbows planted on his knees. His gaze moved over the fighters.