Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(163)

The man was furious, but his mood quickly shifted to horror as he realised he couldn’t read Tyen’s mind. He resolved not to think of the precious thing he carried in…

“Who are you? Why are you following me?” he demanded.

“I am Tyen. Who are you?”

“Nobody you wish to know.” Dahli, the man’s mind whispered.

Tyen had heard the name before, but it took another few heartbeats before he remembered the context. Then his heart skipped a beat. Dahli was the strongest of the Raen’s friends. He was the one known as the Most Loyal.

And Dahli had now realised that he knew Tyen’s name. The spy! Valhan said I should find this one, as he’ll want to help. He relaxed, and at once his mind returned to the secret he carried.

Tyen learned the Raen’s reason for dying, and it stunned him.

The rebels had not won.

The worlds had not changed very much at all.

The Raen had not failed to uphold his side of their deal, and Tyen was not free of his side of it. He recalled the man’s words at their first meeting, when asked how long it continue: “Until Vella is restored or I am convinced I cannot help her.” Not until he was dead.

“So Tyen,” Dahli said. “Why are you following me? Or would it be better to ask: what do you want?”

Tyen suppressed a sigh. “To join you,” he lied. “How can I assist?”

Dahli held out his hand. “Come with me.”





PART NINE


RIELLE





CHAPTER 23





The paintbrush hovered over the board, then descended. Just before it touched the surface it shook a little and landed exactly where Rielle did not want it to, placing a splodge of red in the middle of Sesse’s nose.

Sighing, she dropped the brush in a cup of thinners, grabbed a rag and dabbed at the painting. It only made the situation worse, blending the red in and spreading the paint, so that Sesse’s nose grew wider. Rielle muttered a curse in Fyrian and reached for the brush again.

“Are you sure you want to start with a portrait?” Sesse asked. “The other artists say that portraits are the hardest. I could bring you some fruit or flowers and a pretty bowl.”

Rielle wiped the brush and set about returning the nose to a true and more flattering colour and shape. As a former servant of an artist, Sesse’s advice was often very good. Rielle had resisted it this time, impatient to produce something that would impress the other artists in Cepher.

“I suppose I should,” Rielle replied. “But first I’ll fix this bit…”

Sesse’s eyebrows rose into a knowing look. Rielle decided to ignore it. She needed to focus. And relax. When she’d made the mistake she’d been thinking about Dahli, and that was bound to ruin her concentration.

That his loyalty was to Valhan first was no surprise. He had never shown anything but dedication to the leader of worlds. What had been a revelation, other than his suspicions concerning her and everything about Baluka, was that he loved Valhan. Though Valhan did not return his feelings, Dahli’s were still strong. What a sad, frustrating situation to be in.

She had to admit, she felt like a fool. To think that I’d hoped Dahli and I might grow to be more than friends! She was glad she’d never said anything. Though… would he have read it from her mind while she was learning to become ageless? She thought back and was relieved to find that she hadn’t progressed beyond thinking of him as a friend at that point. It was only on the way back to the Arrival Hall that she’d considered it.

I wasn’t completely taken with the idea, anyway, she told herself. He was much older than her–not just a few cycles, but hundreds. He would always place Valhan’s needs and desires before hers, and she hadn’t truly considered what that would be like. It was probably better that she wasn’t the gender, or the person, he was attracted to.

It could be worse. She could have fancied Dahli while he yearned for Valhan, and Valhan desired… No. Valhan doesn’t regard me that way. He said as much when he took me from the Travellers.

Noises outside the room drew her attention, and she was glad of the distraction. Somewhere down the corridor people were cheering. She resisted the temptation to scan for minds. The last time she had, she’d read some very unflattering thoughts about herself.

Her attempts to befriend the artists had been a great failure so far. They saw her as one of the Raen’s sorcerers, and nothing more. One he’d left to keep his house in order when he wasn’t around–which was most of the time. When she had explained that he had brought her here because she was an artist they’d smiled and nodded, silently groaning at the prospect of flattering her, no matter how awful her art. To convince them she was truly an artist, she needed proof of her skills.

The trouble was, her skills seemed to have deserted her.

She stepped back to regard her efforts. The nose was more nose-like, but not Sesse’s nose. Tired of fussing, she decided to leave it as it was for now. She took a step back, examining the whole painting, and felt her heart sink.

“What are you afraid of?” Sesse asked.

Rielle turned away and began cleaning the brushes. Now that Sesse, at Rielle’s urging, had abandoned formality, a confident, outspoken woman had emerged. She could be very perceptive. Which reminded Rielle of… Sadness welled up inside her as she realised who. Betzi. Memories of the weaving workshop and her old friend stirred, and while she had no longing to return there she did miss her friend. I hope you are happy with your Captain, Betzi, she thought. You’d never guess what became of me.