Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(159)

“I don’t know,” Tyen said, truthfully.

“And why is he alone?” Baluka added. “I’d have thought he’d have some allies with him. Can you sense other minds in the palace?”

Reaching out again, Tyen looked for thoughts. He found one close by–a man anxiously hurrying to open a box with a complicated lock, which he knew contained instructions from the Raen. Moving on, Tyen stretched further and further but heard only silence.

“Just one, that I can detect,” Tyen replied.

“Nobody?”

“Not even servants.”

Baluka turned to stare at him. “That’s…” He stopped and looked at the Raen, his brow deeply furrowed. Had he emptied the palace to protect his people? he thought. Or is this a trap?

The Raen’s gaze was moving across the spread of fighters, from face to face. Soon he would see Baluka and Tyen. Look away, Tyen told himself as the man he’d been working for since Liftre had closed began to look his way. Don’t let him see you. But the Raen’s gaze skipped over several rebels and locked onto his.

And stayed. The Raen smiled and nodded. Deliberately. Then he closed his eyes and looked down.

And burst into flames.

A hundred shouts of surprise and horror rang out. Tyen realised one had come from him. Beside him, Baluka was swearing. They both backed away as the rebels recoiled from the radiating heat and reek of burning flesh spilling from the incandescent figure, now unrecognisable, still sitting in a rapidly blackening chair. Before they came to a stop the flames began to die, shrinking as quickly as they had grown. A grotesque, eyeless statue of charcoal regarded them from the burning seat.

Then it and the chair slumped into a pile of ash.





CHAPTER 21





Utter silence followed.

And was followed by the sound of hundreds of people breathing, rough and fearful.

Then whispered questions filled the hall. Is he dead? Did we win? Did I really just see that?

“Looks dead to me,” someone said. “No doubt about it.”

“The Raen is dead!” another exclaimed.

“We killed the Raen!” Several whoops and cheers followed, and the great hall filled with the trills and whistles and yells of victory. Rebels began to dance about, slapping each other on the back or embracing each other.

Tyen felt a hand grasp his shoulder and jumped.

“We did it,” he heard Baluka say. “We are free of him.”

Tyen tore his eyes away from the pile of ash. “It was too easy,” he replied.

“It was,” Baluka agreed quietly. “Let’s take a closer look.”

They started towards the chair. Tyen realised he was shaking. His stomach was in knots. Who is going to restore Vella now? He half hated himself for thinking it. Nobody died. That’s what matters.

At least one of his goals had been achieved. The most important one.

The Raen would disagree. He held back a bitter laugh. Some spy I turned out to be. Perhaps it was his fault the Raen was dead. But he knew everything I knew. Since they’d met only a few days ago none of Baluka’s plans had changed. Aside from switching to bringing a few hundred sorcerers rather than a thousand. That had been a last-moment chance. He could not have warned the Raen about it.

Had that made all the difference?

Even if it had, surely the Raen had realised he was about to lose. Why hadn’t he fled? Had he not done so in order to avoid looking weak? Tyen doubted anyone would live for a thousand cycles if they were willing to die for their pride. At some point a situation like this would arise.

Tyen shook his head. It was like he let it happen. Did he want to die?

Why did he smile at me?

The chair was now more charcoal than wood. Baluka climbed the stairs and stopped before it. He nudged the pile of ash and charred wood with the toe of his shoe. Tyen moved to his side. Something protruded from beneath a fragment of the chair seat. It looked like the tip of a blackened, shrivelled finger, beckoning him to lift the covering and see if he was right. Tyen shuddered and looked away.

“Tyen,” Baluka said, but did not continue.

Tyen did not look up. He’d remembered the sole ally in the palace–the man who had been hurrying to open a box of instructions. Had the instructions been relevant to the battle? Was that the reason the Raen had lost, not Tyen? Whether that were true or not, an ally could be poised, waiting for an opportunity to attack them. Stretching out his senses, Tyen sought the mind of the lone man.

“There was a—” he began.

“Tyen!” Baluka shouted.

Jolted out of his search, he looked at Baluka. The rebel leader was backing away towards the timepiece, mouth set in a grim line and gaze roving around the raised dais.

“Allies!”

The call echoed throughout the hall. Something moved a mere arm’s length away from Tyen: a shadowy human figure, growing rapidly more distinct. The rebel leader was running backwards, hurrying to get out of the way of the arriving sorcerers. Sorcerers who surrounded Tyen on all sides.

Tyen had no time to run. Instead he pushed out of the world and skimmed, dodging between the allies, towards Baluka. The rebel leader was headed towards a doorway. Tyen slipped through the wall and emerged in the corridor beyond. Baluka cursed as he almost collided with Tyen.

From the hall came the sounds of shouting. They looked back through the door. The rebels had formed a line again, ready to fight.