Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(164)

She looked up at Sesse. The servant was watching her, and raised an eyebrow in expectation.

“Only that I’ve lost all ability to paint,” Rielle admitted.

“Because you’re ageless?”

“Yes.” She paused in surprise. “That was a very good guess.”

Sesse shrugged. “I overheard what Dahli said to you in the dining room. I don’t know about being ageless and a Maker, but I do know there have been and still are ageless who are painters. Amazing painters. Does making magic mean a lot to you?”

Rielle set down the brushes. “No. Not really.”

“Then stop worrying. You’re out of practice. But you have all the time in the worlds to get your skills back.”

She’s right, Rielle thought. I do have all the time I need. I may never be a Maker again, but all it will take to regain my skills is work. Lots of work. She straightened. I can do it. I will do it.

A sound dragged her attention away. Hurried footsteps in the corridor grew louder, then a head appeared in the doorway. A young servant, Penney, flushed with exertion and excitement, dropped to his knees.

“Sorcerer Rielle,” he said. “The rebels sent out the call.” His head was lowered, but his eyes watched her anxiously from under his brows.

Sesse sucked in a breath, grimacing in sympathy as Rielle glanced at her. “Oh, Rielle. Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“How long ago?” Rielle asked Penney.

“Hours ago, I guess,” he replied. “This world is a long way from where they were planning to gather.” It was likely a battle was well underway, he was thinking. Or already over. He braced himself for her anger.

Interesting how everyone is concerned that I’ll be angry or worried, Rielle thought, yet I heard cheering before. Was it at this news?

“Thank you, Penney,” she said. “You may go.” He bowed, climbed to his feet and hurried away.

Pausing to regard the painting critically, she considered what to tackle next. Fix Sesse’s nose or start an easier painting?

“You’re not leaving to fight?” Sesse asked.

Rielle shook her head. “I don’t know how. I don’t even know how to travel between worlds.”

Sesse’s mouth formed an “o”, then as Rielle raised her eyebrows she returned to her pose.

Would I go, if I could? Rielle wondered as she resumed painting. Perhaps if she knew Valhan needed her help. Even if that meant going into battle? Would I risk my life for him? What a waste of effort it would be to learn how to avoid dying of age only to die in battle defending the one who had arranged the lessons.

Yet she owed him more than gratitude for having done so. He had said it was in return for her help in leaving her world, yet that did not seem an equal exchange of favours. He had done more for her than she for him.

Why else would she fight for him? The simplest answer was because she would for anyone she felt… felt what?

Respect? She respected many people but that didn’t mean she’d risk her life for them. Affection? The word was both too personal and too meagre. Adoration? She no longer felt the sort of awe she had felt for the Angel. Though what I feel is similar to awe. He was the ruler of all the worlds. She’d seen how he spent his time keeping them in check, and even if she did not like all his methods she respected that he expended so much effort in the task. He cared about the worlds. She could not help admiring him for that. Even if it meant he had to make harsh decisions. If I could, I’d help him and the people of the worlds so that those kinds of decisions were not necessary.

Help him? She paused. Work for him. Serve him?

A chill ran down her back.

Was this why Dahli served him, instead of walking away from someone who didn’t return his feelings? Could I be as loyal? As she pondered the question something stirred within her. Yes, I think I could. Once I loved Valhan as an Angel, with my soul. Is it such a shift to love him as a leader, with my mind? She smiled. At least it is not as complicated and pointless as loving him as a man, with my heart.

“Sorcerer Rielle,” a voice said, from the doorway.

She looked up. “What is it, Penney?”

The young man’s face was white. “The rebel who visited a few days ago has returned. He… he is telling lies about the Raen and… bothering people.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then started racing. Searching for minds, she found a group of artists clustered together on the floor below, and Gabeme. He was telling them about the rebels’ preparations before the battle with Valhan. Some of the artists were worried that Gabeme had come to cause trouble while the Raen was absent, others believed he would leave when he learned that not all the artisans had been happy to find their home possessed by the Raen. All thought that Rielle would deal with Gabeme if he caused trouble, though a few had heard how she had allowed him to escape last time and doubted she was up to the task of defending the palace.

“Take me to him.” She dropped the brush in the jar of thinners and strode out of the room, Penney hurrying before her.

Her pulse raced. What am I afraid of? Gabeme will vanish as soon as he sees me and discovers he can’t read my mind. But what if he didn’t? Dahli had taught her to shield herself against an attack, but not how to fight.

She hurried down the stairs and into the large room where the artists gathered for meals, meetings and celebrations. Gabeme stood leaning against the back of a chair, enjoying being the centre of attention and a source of fear. In the minds of the artists she saw the tale already told: the thousands who had responded to the call, the fighters who had taken the magic, bits of the speech the rebel leader–Baluka–had made: “He’s had a thousand cycles! That is more than enough!” “Together we are equal to the Raen.” Which surprised her. Baluka hadn’t believed in Millennium’s Rule. But others do, and what better way to convince people to fight for you than with an ancient prediction that says they cannot lose?