Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(26)

I wish Master Grasch could see this! The thought came with a pang of sadness. Even if she had brought him here, his sight was all but gone now. Chances were she’d never see him again if she decided to settle somewhere new, whether in her world or not. The thought left her feeling lost and anxious, and she moved a little closer to Baluka. I feel so certain I can trust him. It must be because I have read his mind. If he were a bad person she was sure he would not be able to hide it.

They entered a huge hall, the carpet covered in representations of food. A bit obvious, this one. Odd wedge-shaped pillows were arranged neatly around the edges. A group of people were sitting on these and from among them rose a young man. He was introduced to Lejikh.

This is the other chief that Ghallan is hoping to impress, Baluka told her.

For a while all had to stand around waiting while the correct formalities were observed, jokes made and the young chief flattered his host by trying to persuade Lejikh to sell his wares to him even as he knew he would not succeed. All were slowed by the difficulties of translation and complexity of local manners. When finally they all were free to sit Rielle had to hold back a sigh of relief.

Servants entered with little carts stacked with folded pieces of cloth. They pulled them past the chief and his entourage first, who each took one and laid it across their knees, protecting themselves and the carpet from spills. The Travellers followed suit. Soon all were taking utensils from more carts, and then helping themselves to the contents of steaming cauldrons and well-laden baskets.

The excitement of the visitors at meeting the Travellers buffeted the edges of Rielle’s senses, inviting her to look closer, but she kept her mind averted as best she could. One of the men kept staring at her, and yet she heard no whisper of thought emanating from him. When he finally turned away to answer his leader she took the opportunity to look closer. He was almost as thin as the serfs she had seen.

As he looked back in her direction she returned her attention to the conversation between Lejikh and Chief Ghallan. They were cheerfully bartering. Baluka’s father produced a few items from within his clothing. Gemstones, mostly.

“It is a night bead,” Lejikh said, handing over a tiny bauble. “At first it appears black, but look closer. It is said it reflects every colour that ever existed. But mostly the colours that are near, like those you are wearing.”

Rielle smiled. Selling a black bead to people who loved colour so much seemed an impossible challenge, but his description made her want to see the effect for herself. Black that reflected colour. Like the Angel’s hair…

Ankari touched her arm, then pointed at another small cart being pulled around the diners. At once Baluka straightened.

“Bulbul!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone, his eyes wide.

She suppressed the urge to giggle at his childlike excitement as the cart drew closer. At the last moment one of the Travellers called the servant back to him and Baluka let out an explosive breath in frustration, earning laughs all around. Then finally the cart stopped before them and, despite Rielle’s protests at how full she was, he scooped up two of the enormous servings.

The cake was bland and a disappointment, until she reached the middle, which was a revelation of sweetness tempered by both soft and tangy flavours. She spent the rest of the evening slowly working her way through the whole cake, then followed Baluka back to the wagon feeling uncomfortably full and yet sure she could not have helped trying to eat more.

The stairs to the wagon had been replaced, to her relief. Baluka did not follow her and Ankari inside. She looked around for Lejikh, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Father will be negotiating for some hours yet,” he said. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As Ankari closed the door Baluka’s mind slipped beyond her senses, and for a second she felt disorientated and utterly alone. She looked towards the nearest window and found all the shutters closing. Ankari reached under the bed and began to pull. Another, smaller bed emerged, rolling on little wheels. She positioned it where the table had been, now folded up and fixed onto the wall. Smiling at Rielle, she patted the covers.

Rielle hesitated, thinking that the last thing she would be able to do was sleep when she had slept for most of the day. But Ankari had been awake for many, many hours and was probably tired, so Rielle sat on the edge of the bed. The woman let down the curtains and disappeared behind them. With nothing else to do, Rielle lay down and considered everything she had seen. The forest. The serfs. The castle. The colourful occupants of the castle.

I don’t think I’d like to live here, she thought fuzzily as sleep crept over her. Though it’s almost tempting, for the sweets.





CHAPTER 8





A curse woke Rielle. She wasn’t sure how she knew it was a curse, except it was uttered with the right sort of vehemence. Then she began to wonder if it had been in her dream, which had been about… she couldn’t remember. Blinking, she looked around. She was low to the floor, on a bed… the wheeled bed in Ankari and Lejikh’s wagon. Among the Travellers and in a land ruled by rich chiefs and starving serfs. In a world far from her own. Not in the Angel’s world, where she was supposed to be, thanks to Inekera, who possibly had meant to kill her…

It took a long moment to remember and accept all of that again, and for the disorientation to pass. I am safe, she told herself. Don’t worry about the rest. It occurred to her then that she had been lucky twofold that Baluka had found her. Not only had the Travellers saved her life, but she had been found by good people.