Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(35)
As they neared the end of the room the paintings’ subjects changed to portraiture. Felomar explained who each subject was. One painting in particular dominated the far wall, but she did not let it draw her attention away from her host and guide. Yes, I know you’re important, she thought at it, but you can wait your turn. Only when she had neared the far corner did she glance at it.
A familiar dark stare froze her in place.
It’s him!
And yet it wasn’t. It was slightly wrong, as if the artist had not succeeded in capturing a likeness, or had only painted his subject from a description. As she stared, she noted the differences. No blue light reflected from the dark hair. The skin was no longer utterly, unearthly white, but merely pale. The fine ridges of the jaw, cheekbones and brows were right, however. The eyes…
“You’ve seen him before?” Lord Felomar asked.
Though his tone was light, he could not quite hide the tension in his voice. There would be consequences to her answer. She examined the servant’s thoughts and her heart sank. Of all the people her Angel had to look similar to, why this one?
“No,” she replied. “He looks a little like someone I have met, but it is not him.”
“Who does he remind you of?”
“A holy man from my world.”
She turned towards the painting they had been about to examine before she had noticed the big portrait. Felomar did not take her cue. Instead he walked over to stand before the not-Valhan painting. She followed reluctantly. Averting her eyes from the face, she examined the background. It was of a room, but it contained nothing significant. Walls, a table, a plant growing in a squat bowl.
“I can’t imagine he posed for this,” Felomar said. “He doesn’t seem the sort. Most likely it was done from memory. I’ve been told it is remarkably accurate despite being two hundred cycles old. Yet no painting of him can be considered entirely reliable, since he can change his appearance.”
Rielle’s stomach turned over. That will only make it harder to convince the Travellers that this isn’t Valhan. Can I convince Felomar not to show this to the Travellers? Or has he already?
The cold gaze of the man in the portrait was starting to make her skin crawl. She sighed and shook her head.
“What is it?” the lord asked.
“It is obvious to me it isn’t the person I know. It’s like… Sometimes you meet someone who looks a lot like a person you know. You’re convinced they are twins. When you put the two next to each other you find they look nothing alike. It’s the similarities you notice when you see them separately, but the differences you see when they are together.”
He frowned. “You would see the differences if both men were here?”
“I can see the differences even though one is not here.”
He nodded. “There’s something else I want to show you.”
She followed him to a waist-high cabinet to one side of the painting. The cabinet’s top was one sheet of flawless glass, a wonder in itself. Beneath it three books had been carefully arranged, pages open to display more portraits. A jolt went through her as she recognised the face. Printed in black ink on paper, it was white, enhancing the uncanny resemblance to the Angel. A word was written in the border of one of the images. As she looked at it, the servant noticed and the meaning sprang into his thoughts: the Raen.
“There is another book,” Felomar said. “I haven’t shown many people this one.” He reached over the cabinet and pressed it somewhere in the back. A panel sprang open, hinging forward. From the cavity beyond he drew another tome, discoloured with age. The pages crackled faintly as he opened it to a page near the beginning, marked by a faded blue ribbon. Another version of the same face, shockingly familiar, appeared.
Across the top were the words from the other book: The Raen. Along the bottom was another word–the title written in another language, she assumed, until she read it from the servant’s mind. It was a name.
“Valhan,” Pel whispered, then caught his breath and looked up at his employer.
Rielle stared at the word. Her heart had frozen. How can he have the same name? Doubts crowded in. Surely that was too great a coincidence.
But if it is true, if they are the same…
Then she had been tricked. She, and Sa-Mica, and all priests who had believed Valhan was an Angel.
But the man she’d met, whether Angel or not, had been good and kind. He had stopped the terrible abuse of the tainted at the Mountain Temple. He had been warm and forgiving. His eyes did not have the coldness of those of the man in the painting.
Maybe it is the other way around. Maybe this man they believe is a sorcerer is an Angel, but because they have not been brought up with the truth they cannot see him as more than human.
Which meant she would never be able to convince the Travellers or Lord Felomar that the Angel who had invited her to his home was not a powerful, feared sorcerer. They would think she had been deceived and pity her if she remained loyal to her beliefs and memories.
It didn’t matter. Rielle drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and made herself smile at Lord Felomar.
“I do not know this man.”
He regarded her thoughtfully, then nodded. “Would you like to see more of the paintings?”
“Yes, but… another time?”
He nodded. “Of course. It will be my pleasure. I can see you have a love for art and it makes me happy to see others enjoy my collection.” He looked around. “I should try to sleep as well. Do you mind if Pel escorts you back to your room?”