Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(171)

She had killed before, she reminded herself. And this was the only way the Raen could be resurrected. If she did not continue Valhan would die–properly this time. She had to do this.

And yet… she could not bring herself to. It was wrong to obliterate the mind of someone who had barely lived his life. A young sorcerer who had so much potential. Anyone, really.

But who will maintain peace in the worlds?

What would the worlds be, without Valhan? She couldn’t answer that question. She almost laughed aloud as she remembered what he had said. “I have never met anyone who could predict the future.” He had admitted he could never anticipate the consequences of his interference in a world. He was only certain that, without him, the worlds would fall into chaos.

But if he could not predict the consequences of anything, was he even right about that?

The death of the young man might save the worlds from ruin, or it might make no difference at all.

Which means Valhan’s resurrection might save the worlds from ruin, or make no difference at all.

That thought brought a rush of clarity.

If the outcome was uncertain either way, the choice was really between the life of a young man who had barely lived, and that of a powerful ruler who had lived a thousand cycles.

She knew too little of either to know who deserved that life more, but the one thing she was certain of, which her own actions had taught her, was that killing someone should not be done lightly or selfishly.

And maybe it was the person who was willing to obliterate another’s existence in order to cheat death who didn’t deserve to live. Maybe it was the person who killed powerful sorcerers just in case they became a threat who didn’t deserve to be resurrected. Maybe it was the person who would do anything–from making alliances with people who abused their power to manipulating young sorcerers into rebelling so that they and the allies would kill each other off–to remain in power who deserved to die. Or rather, to remain dead.

“Rielle,” Dahli said.

She started, catching herself before she could look up at him. His mind was closed now, but she looked beyond the block to see he was growing concerned.

Her resolve weakened. What she was about to do would hurt Dahli in a way he would never forgive. He would be devastated. He might even kill her, thinking his suspicions about her had been true all along. The Raen’s friends would help him. She did not have enough magic to fight them, or the knowledge how.

No, he won’t. He believes I’m the only person who can do this. Looking into his mind she saw that she was wrong. The sorcerer with the mechanical insect was strong, too. Maybe not as strong as Rielle, but perhaps strong enough.

The only hope for the young man in the casket was for her to flee, taking him with her.

That would require reaching him within the coffin of ice somehow. Once she touched him she could take him with her. How to do it before Dahli stopped her? She had barely more magic than she needed to leave the world. But the casket was only ice, so she did not need much.

Placing her hands on the back of the coffin, out of sight, she warmed the ice to melt a hole.

Dahli looked down at the casket and frowned.

“What is he…?” he began.

Her hand slipped inside the casket as the hole she was melting reached the interior. Bending down, she reached inside and groped around, seeking a foot.

“Rielle!” Dahli exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

She looked up at him.

“This is wrong, Dahli,” she said. “He is no mindless vessel.”

He shook his head. “There is no other way, Rielle.”

“Isn’t there? What about putting his mind into truly a mindless body instead of stealing this man’s? Or growing a new body from other living matter?”

“He must have a body that has developed fully,” Dahli told her, struggling to keep panic and anger out of his voice. “And a mind that is capable of using magic.”

How does he know this? She looked within his mind. He doesn’t. Valhan only left orders, not explanations. He trusted that Dahli would not question any of it. And he was right.

“All things come at a cost,” Dahli told her, moving around of the casket.

“The cost is too high,” she told him.

Dahli scowled and strode towards her. “Who are you to decide?” he shouted. “You’re a few cycles old. You know nothing. You’ve seen a handful of worlds–and you don’t even know how to travel between them.”

Her hand encountered cold flesh. She grabbed it, let the memories written into magic dissipate, and pushed out of the world. In the fading room she saw him turn to the others, his voice a muffled shout.

“Kill her.”

She pushed away from the world as hard as she could.

The shift to white was instant. She lost awareness of the world. Her senses told her she was still moving, propelled onward. A landscape of shifting grey and black slammed into her. She fell into warm liquid and sank.

Keeping her grip on the young man’s leg, she pushed again. She had no idea where she was going, let alone how to hide her trail from her pursuers. Thankfully she didn’t return to the icy world, but somehow steered herself down another path. She knew she ought to try some of the methods Dahli had used earlier to hide his trail, but she wasn’t sure how to forge a new path.

Five worlds on, one of the Raen’s friends caught up with her.