Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(67)
She tried to run around him, but he grabbed her and lifted her onto one hip.
“No!” she protested. He moved into the place between and hurried back towards the edge of the outer circle, seeking the child’s mother.
He found her still casting about, weighed down by an enormous pack on her back and a baby in a sling between her breasts. Six of her children stood with hands linked in a ring around her. As he appeared next to them she looked up, gasped and began to apologise.
“I’ll keep hold of her, if you like,” he offered.
She hesitated, then nodded.
Returning to the centre, Tyen joined Yira. She placed a hand on his shoulder. The sorcerers gripped his arms again.
“There’s an arrival place to the north, in a ruined city up in the mountains,” she told him. She lifted her head. “All ready?”
“Wait…” someone said, then: “Yes, go ahead.”
“Take a breath,” Tyen instructed, then he counted to five and pushed away from the world and began to skim.
They reached the ruined city and followed a path to the next world. A cultivated garden appeared, and he moved sideways until he found a wide enough stretch of flat ground to arrive in. A group of people in fancy clothing watched with mild curiosity at the large number of strangers who appeared before them. Tyen’s skin pricked at so many witnesses who would remember their passing, but it couldn’t be helped. The next arrival place was in a forest clearing, so Yira held everyone just outside the world while he went ahead and levelled the vegetation.
The final leg of the journey set them down on the top of a gently domed hill, but that still meant the outermost ring of people would have a small drop to the ground. He paused long enough for them to anticipate the fall. A few tumbled to their knees, but all got to their feet and dusted themselves off, uninjured.
Tyen looked around. Beyond the hill in all directions was a calm green-blue sea dotted with islands. Yira let out a sigh, then asked if all were present. To Tyen’s relief, everyone had come through.
“This is your new home,” Yira called. “There is a village on one of the islands. Priests from the local temple are watching this hill and will send boats to collect you.”
The girl on Tyen’s hip began to squirm, so he slipped out of the world a little and sought her mother. The woman smiled as he appeared beside her. Her other children were running about, rolling in the soft, fronded vegetation that covered the hill.
“Thank you.” Then her smile vanished. “Look after Ayan for us?”
“I’ll try to,” Tyen promised, then he smiled crookedly. “If he lets me.”
She grimaced in sympathy. “Yes, he is a stubborn one. Safe journey back, Tyen Ironsmelter. Thank you for delivering us all safely.”
He returned to find Yira talking to the older couple who had camped near her at the base.
“No, they will be delighted to have you here,” she was saying. “In the local villages the younger generations keep leaving, seeking their fortunes in this world’s cities. You’ll have to live more humbly than some of you are used to, but it will be more comfortable than the base.”
Tyen looked around, reading acceptance and determination in the minds and faces of the people. Few were happy to be parted from the sorcerer or sorcerers in their family, but they did not object. Living conditions had been growing rapidly worse, and they did not want their need for basic supplies to endanger their loved ones.
“Tyen,” Yira said, “you can go back now. Let everyone know we arrived safely. I’ll see the families settled and bring the volunteers back later.”
He nodded. “Travel safely.”
As he pushed away from the world he saw arms rise, pointing at white shapes on the calm sea. Boats, from what he could make out.
Travelling alone again, he enjoyed the simple relief of no longer being responsible for such a large number of people. He wondered what the odds were of successfully transferring a few hundred people without mishap. Vella might know…
Vella! He pressed his hand to his chest. What do you think, Vella?
“That depends on many factors, including the skill of the sorcerer, the effort put into preparing the people, the– ”
Wait. I must stop and talk with you. There might not be another chance for a long time. He considered where he could read her without anybody seeing him. If he paused at the ruined city he would not have to walk far to be concealed from other travellers.
He retraced his path. As he surfaced in the ruined city the chill mountain air filled his lungs and stung his face, so he warmed the air around him. He moved off the arrival area, walking in among the half-broken walls of the surrounding buildings. Finding a half-shattered column lying on its side, he sat down and drew the pouch out from beneath his shirt.
He slipped Vella out and inspected her. She seemed unharmed by so many days hanging around his neck. The pouch, in contrast, was looking a bit worn and grubby. Though the washing facilities at the cavern were private, he’d been worried that someone would barge in on him by mistake, or glimpse him through the cracks between the panels. Anyone who saw that he was keeping something under his clothes would rightly suspect he had something to hide. So he’d taken her off at the same time as taking off his shirt, carefully transferring her into a clean shirt when he dressed again.
Opening her pages, his heart lifted as words appeared on the page.