Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(52)

Tyen froze.

“I will return it,” the man assured him.

What choice do I have? As Tyen reached inside his shirt for the pouch his hands trembled. He managed to slip Vella out, then held her for a moment. If this goes badly, I am very sorry. He looked up and opened his mouth to warn the stranger about her ability to read minds, then realised he did not have to speak. The man did not withdraw his hand, so the knowledge did not concern him. Tyen placed her in the outstretched palm.

A thorough examination followed. Covers. Binding. The edge of her pages. As the man opened Vella, Tyen held his breath. He could not see if text was appearing. The man’s eyes did move back and forth, but his expression did not change.

Tyen took the opportunity to look the stranger over. He was slightly shorter than Tyen and slim in build, yet something about his manner made him seem more imposing. His clothing was simple–a long coat of a dark material, a button-less shirt with a high collar, trousers, boots. Dark, short hair. Skin the colour Tyen’s darkened to when tanned, as smooth and unblemished as a child’s but with none of the underlying fat, so that his cheekbones and jaw were emphasised. He was exceptionally good-looking and Tyen could not help feeling a little envious admiration.

The man closed Vella. To Tyen’s relief, his hand extended again, offering her back. Resisting the urge to snatch, Tyen took Vella and returned her to the pouch, his mind racing. If this is the Raen, then Tarren was right. He hasn’t taken something I’m not willing to give. If he’s not the Raen, he is certainly powerful. Can he–will he–restore Vella?

He took a deep breath, telling himself that if this was the Raen all he could do was hope his old friend had been right, or that death would be swift and Vella would fall into good hands. He swallowed hard, then made himself meet the man’s eyes. They were so dark he could not see where iris met pupil.

“Can you help us?” he asked.

“Perhaps.” A tiny crease appeared between the man’s brows, his gaze on Tyen’s chest. “I have not had to deal with the creations of my predecessor for several hundred cycles, and then what was requested was their destruction. If I am to restore this woman’s body, I would not attempt it without testing the method first, several times. One mistake and she could be destroyed.”

Tyen nodded. Words repeated in his mind: “my predecessor”, “several hundred cycles”. Suddenly he didn’t want to think about that too closely, afraid that if he did he’d lose his nerve.

“It will take time,” the Raen said. His eyes narrowed. “In return you have nothing to offer but service.”

For a brief moment Tyen was tempted to point out that he now owned an object that had read the Raen’s mind, but he figured it wouldn’t be a bargaining piece he’d possess for long if he did.

“Not much of an exchange, I know,” he replied.

The man made a low noise. A chuckle, Tyen realised. The Raen had a sense of humour.

“You may be useful to me, if you are willing. A group of sorcerers, some formerly of the school you attended, are uniting with the intention to defy my laws and challenge my rule. I would like you to join them and report their activity to me.”

Tyen’s stomach sank. Could he work against people he had once learned and worked with? Lie to them? Betray them? What if his true role among them was discovered? What if his actions led to their deaths?

“It would be better if it does not come to that,” the Raen said. “If you are clever you may steer them from their more dangerous ambitions. If not you might still reduce the number who perish as a result of a direct confrontation.”

A direct confrontation? So they are planning to attack him? They must truly hate him. Tyen thought of the arguments between the teachers, wondering which was right. Was he a monster? Then he winced as he knew the Raen had seen the thought.

“They are angry at losing their freedom to do whatever they wish,” the man continued. “They do not see that my laws keep the strife of the worlds from growing into greater conflicts. If they obey them, I will let them live.”

Tyen nodded. He remembered Tarren’s words: “… what are you prepared to do in order to fulfil your promise to her?” He took a deep breath.

“I won’t kill anyone for you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“How long will the arrangement last?”

“Until Vella is restored or I am convinced I cannot help her.”

Tyen looked down at the pouch hanging around his neck. He wished he could ask her what she would prefer, but he knew what she would say: only he could decide. She was not whole, so she could not feel emotions as he did. She only knew she was incomplete, and that what had been done to her was wrong.

He nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“Then we have an understanding: I will attempt to restore Vella and you will watch these potential rebels for me in return. I do not need you to seek me out to make your reports, so long as you leave their base from time to time. I will find you.”

“Where is it?”

“Seek your old friends and you will find it.”

Empty, cold air was suddenly all that filled the space the Raen had occupied. Tyen stared at the snow beyond and he realised he was shivering. Whether from the cold or his encounter with the ruler of worlds, he couldn’t decide. I am alive. I still have Vella. More than that: the most powerful sorcerer in the worlds had agreed to seek a way to restore her for him. I think that means things just took a turn for the better. Not that there aren’t many, many ways it could all go wrong. He had to trust that the Raen would keep his word, and hope that his “watching”–spying was more accurate–didn’t end in disaster, for himself, Vella or his friends.