Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(77)
The cheers were this time louder, though Tyen detected a subdued and hesitant edge to it as the rebels realised they were about to face a battle and some of them could die. Perhaps more than some.
He felt sick with dread. I wish I’d tried harder to dissuade Yira from this, but how can I? If I speak out against every plan to fight she’ll wonder what I’m doing here. She knew that her leadership would falter if the rebels did not feel they were making progress. She had also admitted, privately, that she sympathised with the most impatient of them. Life in Aei was comfortable, but the constant fear of discovery and effort of keeping the rebels together made her long to take action.
He knew she would never be persuaded to leave the rebels. Not by him, or anyone else. He’d begun to suspect he was pretending to be a rebel for the sake of protecting Yira as much as he was spying for the sake of restoring Vella.
He had no idea what the Raen expected him to do. He couldn’t refuse or neglect to join the fight and remain with the rebels, yet if he did he would be attacking people who also served the Raen.
My task is to spy, he told himself. Part of that is to not reveal that I am a spy. So if not fighting would do that, then I have to fight. By the same reasoning, even if the ally knew Tyen was the Raen’s spy, he couldn’t avoid attacking Tyen if it meant exposing the arrangement. I could die today.
“Obey the orders of your leaders, as they know what to do next,” Yira told the crowd. “We must act quickly and decisively, my rebel friends. Fight well, fight hard.” She jumped off the column, landing beside Tyen. “Generals,” she said. “It’s time.”
As the other three made their way forward, Tyen followed. He took a deep breath and tried, in vain, to will his heart to stop racing. His confrontation with Professor Kilraker had involved a tiny amount of magic, and the chase and confrontation with the Academy’s aircarts had been a small scuffle, compared to what he was likely to face next.
“Nine worlds away,” Yira said in a low voice, “the Raen’s ally Preketai has a small palace, where he goes during the cold winters of his home world. He takes a few sorcerer underlings with him and some servants, but is otherwise alone unless entertaining guests. We’ll go in one group. Tyen will take us there, since he’s transported large numbers of people before.”
“And after?” Frell asked.
“Scatter and wait a few days before returning to the base.”
Volk nodded. “And witnesses?”
“Kill the sorcerers only if they read the location of the base from a rebel’s mind. Don’t kill the servants. This is to be an assassination, not a massacre.”
She looked at each of them expectantly, then when no further questions came she nodded.
“Get everyone into formation.”
As they hurried away she looked at Tyen, her eyebrows rising.
“Nervous?”
He let out a short laugh. “Of course.”
“Good. You should be. It’ll sharpen your reflexes.” Her expression softened. “I’m sorry, Tyen. I know you’d rather I didn’t put myself, or anyone else, in danger. No change comes without loss, and we are aiming for enormous change. A once-in-a-thousand-cycle change. That’s not going to come easily.”
He nodded. “I know.” He sighed. “I guess I’m no warrior.”
“You would look for a way to resolve this without bloodshed.” She smiled. “That makes you the best kind of warrior. And you are still here, despite your doubts.”
He looked away to hide the guilt. If she knew the true reason I’m here would she be so understanding? He made himself look at her again. She was watching the generals move among the rebels, chewing her lip as was her habit, but with a savageness that suggested she might draw blood.
What haven’t I thought of? she was asking herself. What have I missed? How will I forgive myself if…?
“It is a good plan,” he told her, because it was true and she needed to hear it, and he may as well reassure her since he would never dissuade her from going into battle. “And I’ll whisk you away, if anything goes wrong,” he added quietly.
Distracted, she glanced at him and smiled. “I think they’re ready.”
Sure enough, the rebels now stood in linked concentric circles. Each had gathered magic in other worlds before the leader of their group had brought them here. Now the leaders drew in magic, and for the first time in many cycles Tyen experienced the sensation of being surrounded by Soot. When he considered how much magic all the rebels held, he shivered. And yet, we can’t be sure it is enough to defeat even one of the Raen’s allies.
Yira walked out into the centre of the circle, Tyen following, and they joined the formation.
“Take a breath,” she called, then she nodded to Tyen.
Reaching far beyond the Soot, Tyen drew in what lay beyond. He heard gasps among the rebels, then the quick refilling of lungs as they remembered they were about to travel between worlds. Yira chuckled.
Pushing away from the world, Tyen sent them skimming away from the ancient city up the valley it once guarded. At the top was an arrival place, surprisingly well used for the location. This world had many, and he could sense a multitude of newly travelled paths that the rebel groups had formed to reach the meeting place.
From there he took them from world to world, staying on well-used paths and pausing only long enough for everyone to exhale and inhale. At the last world before their destination, he drew in more magic.