Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(60)
“Do I?”
She nodded, then turned and strode back to the cave entrance. Tyen unrolled the mattress and sat down. He took Beetle from his bag and consulted the timepiece within the insectoid’s back. Nearly one and a half Leratian days had passed since he’d left Liftre. Putting Beetle back he found some dried fruit and salted nuts in Yira’s pack and ate enough to silence his growling stomach. Weariness was like an ache and when he finally lay down it felt wonderful.
But the voices around him kept him from slipping into slumber. He could hear conversations behind the laughter and protests of children. He tried to make out what the closest people were saying and failed, then found himself searching for and finding their minds instead.
Like a proper spy, he thought. Then he felt a chill. If any of the sorcerers here were stronger than him, and were reading his mind right now, they’d now know about his deal with the Raen. Since he had refused a mind-read, it was highly likely someone was watching him. If there is, and they’re stronger, the game is up anyway. I may as well have a look around.
The distance a sorcerer could read a mind from depended on his or her magical reach, but the further away a mind was the harder it was to isolate it among others. Particularly when many minds were between the reader and their target. But since Yira’s place was next to the cave wall, nobody was between him and the rebels within, and that made it easy to listen in on their discussion. The conversation, perceived by many ears and processed by several minds, was strangely amplified.
They were debating ways they might all escape the Raen, should he detect one of them travelling to and from the market for supplies.
“They say he can travel faster than all other sorcerers, and doesn’t need to arrive fully in a world before he travels to the next,” one was saying.
“That can’t be true. Even the Raen needs to breathe.”
“Does he?” another asked. “He’s immortal. Maybe he doesn’t have to breathe.”
“Whether it is true or not, we should expect him to be faster than us,” Ceilon said. “We have to be smarter. If we travel in pairs or threes, then we can scatter if we think we’re being pursued. He can’t chase more than one.”
“Ah!” the first said. “If each of us travels with two new rebels, who don’t know anything important, then they can act as bait, drawing him away while we safely escape.”
A familiar mind drew Tyen’s attention. Yira. She was thinking that nobody would want to join the rebellion if they were to be sacrificed so offhandedly. But Tyen could see that the man who’d suggested it believed that ignorant rebels would be less likely to be punished by the Raen.
“They could try to draw him into a dead world,” another was saying. “That’s what some people thought had happened when he disappeared.”
“Then they were wrong,” Ceilon pointed out. “Or he’d still be there.”
“Unless his allies worked out where he was and gathered enough magic between them to enter the world and take him out again.”
Ceilon shook his head. “Can we get back to the subject?” He looked around, and his eyes met Yira’s. She tensed and Tyen understood that Ceilon often asked her for her opinion when she clearly had nothing to contribute, and ignored her when she did.
“What do you think, Yira? What would the warriors of Roihe suggest?”
To explore all other options before resorting to battle, she thought. But that’s not going to go down well here.
“To become one of a crowd,” she replied. “Find a well-populated place and blend in.”
Ceilon nodded. “Yes, he wouldn’t want people to witness him slaughtering innocent sorcerers.”
She snorted. “From what I’ve been told, he’d be delighted to have the opportunity to make an example of us.” Tyen was intrigued to see the depth of Yira’s hatred for the Raen, yet she had never mentioned a personal reason to loathe him. “And we’re hardly ‘innocent’, in the eyes of his allies.”
“I suppose we aren’t,” he said. As he smiled at Yira in a knowing way, she resisted looking at the two rebels who were her former lovers, yet she imagined she could feel their mood darkening as they were reminded of their connection to her. Curious to see if she was right, Tyen sought these men. Sure enough, he found the angry, bitter thoughts of a man named Piello, nursing both a wounded pride and a lingering hope to regain her favour. He’d thought she’d invented her other “friends” to keep him jealous and interested in her, and had been dismayed to find she hadn’t.
The other, Frell, had assumed she had brought her “friends” together in order to let them fight for her loyalty. He’d arrived prepared for battle only to be told conflict between rebels would not be tolerated. And now this third one arrives. The one she kept talking about, exaggerating his abilities. Though… maybe she wasn’t exaggerating about Tyen. I couldn’t read anything of his mind, and I can read everyone else’s.
Tyen nearly laughed aloud at that. He wasn’t the only one secretly invading other rebels’ thoughts. And yet Frell had clearly avoided reading Yira’s mind before coming here, or he’d have known she had only invited him in order to fight the Raen, and had no intention of doing anything with him but that.
They’ll see her inviting me to sleep on her mattress as a statement of preference, though. I should find a new sleeping place as soon as possible.