Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(87)
Baluka nodded. “Yes.” He looked at Rielle. “Many believe that strong sorcerers can’t be Makers.”
“It may be why the Raen did not test her strength before he took Rielle from her world,” Ankari said. “As a Maker she could be no threat.”
Rielle opened her mouth to remind them that the Angel had taken her out of her world, not the Raen, then remembered that she was never going to convince them. She closed it again, but Ankari frowned as she did so, then looked at Baluka in a pointed way. He returned the look with a small, helpless shrug.
They probably think I still believe the Raen is an Angel, she realised. How can I explain that I don’t?
“Lejikh might have a teacher for you,” Ankari told her, “if you want to leave us. Or you may stay with us. You do not need to choose now.”
Rielle nodded and her heart lifted. If she did not make up her mind before, she might see the Gathering. Then she realised what Ankari had also told her: that she and Lejikh would agree to her marrying Baluka. They would welcome her as a daughter. She found herself beaming at Ankari.
“Thank you,” she offered, wishing she had enough grasp of the language to express her gratitude more.
The woman smiled, picked up the trousers she was working on and resumed stitching. “You should not make while here,” she said, glancing at the drawings. “Or where many people are. But tomorrow we leave and you can draw.”
Looking at the unfinished sketch of the sculptor, Rielle sighed. Standing, she picked up the sketch and climbed into the wagon to stow it with the others. Baluka, to her surprise, followed. As he closed the door and a flame appeared to light the interior, she had to hide a smile at how obvious his intention was to catch a moment alone.
He gave her a measuring look and she waited, curious to see what he would do next. Reaching into his tunic, he drew out a length of braided thread. “Mother made this,” he said. He took both ends and held it out, then when she reached out to take it he shook his head. “Your hand,” he said.
She held her hand out, palm up, but instead of dropping the braid onto it he looped it around her wrist. His hands shook as he tied it, and she looked away and pretended not to notice. Maybe he does like me, she thought. A little flare of guilt burned inside her briefly. What if he loves me like I loved Izare, and I can’t return that passion? Before she could try to answer that question, he spoke.
“This is my second asking,” he told her quietly. “If you decide ‘no’ any time, take it off. The third time I ask, you must tie one of these on my wrist to say ‘yes’. On the day we marry, it will be replaced by a line on our wrists.”
He looked up at her. She smiled, not sure if she was supposed to say anything. But he only smiled in return and moved away. He slipped out of the door, leaving her alone in the dim light from the windows.
She fingered the braid, examining feelings of flattery and excitement and hope. The Travellers wanted her. She could have a family again, and a nicer one than her own had been. Though they still expected their children to marry someone they approved of, the difference was that they were willing to allow him some choice, and he could marry an outsider with no wealth or status if he wanted to so long as they joined the family.
Seeing a movement in the small mirror attached to the wall beside his parents’ bed, she looked over to see her face reflected back at her. If I accept, I will become a Traveller. I will see many, many worlds. I will make things for the family to sell in markets like this. I will bear children, if Baluka is right about the Traveller healer’s skills. Even if I don’t love Baluka as I loved Izare, I am sure I will come to.
Something plucked at the edges of her senses. At the same time a shadow moved in the depths of the mirror. She blinked and took a step closer. At once the shadows resolved into a pattern her mind recognised.
A face. Eyes narrowing as she caught her breath in recognition. She spun around.
Nothing. Nobody in the room but her. The wall behind was smooth, no pattern on it that might have looked like the face in the reflection.
Placing a hand on her chest, she willed her heart to stop racing. I imagined him. Yet she could not quite convince herself of that. What if it was him? Or the other? The Angel or the Raen?
The Raen did not know she existed. It had to have been the Angel.
Then why behind me? Why disappear again? And why now? Why at the moment I was contemplating a new life for myself?
He had offered to take her to his world but, for good or ill, Inekera had prevented that. Had he finally learned she was alive, and tracked her down? If he had, why had he left again?
Perhaps he had seen her thoughts and believed she had chosen a different future. Her skin tingled. If he came back now and repeated his offer to take me to his realm again, would I accept? It would be a cruel disappointment for Baluka if she did, and the family would think she had joined the Raen–if they ever saw who took her away.
She turned back to the mirror, looking at herself and the smooth and faceless wall, and found she couldn’t decide what she wanted more: the warmth of a real family life, or the glory of serving the Angel. Twin longings pulled her in different directions. My heart wants the first, my soul wants the second. And her mind?
Her mind reasoned that she had probably imagined the face in the mirror. And if he’d been real… well, he hadn’t made his offer again, so her only real choices were to find someone to teach her how to travel between worlds so she could go back to her home world, start a quiet new life in a new world, or marry Baluka and stay with the Travellers.