Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(98)

But they did not know enough to realise they were being deceived. He tricked everyone. Except, maybe, the woman who had accosted Sa-Mica at the port where Rielle had boarded the ship to Schpeta.

Rielle shook her head. “So many lies. Why?”

“To be safe in your world until I could leave it. To stop others using the magic I needed.”

The Travellers are right. He had been trapped. And he had stripped her world of magic in order to escape it.

“You stole from the Angels.” He had escaped partly because of her. She had made some of the magic that freed him. “Why did you take me with you?”

Again, that faint smile. “For exactly the reason I told you. It was likely the artisans of my world had left due to my long absence, and you would make a good first replacement.”

His tone was neither full of flattery nor coldly practical. She looked away, unsure how to react. His plans had been thwarted, anyway.

“Did Inekera try to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“She did what she thought would please me. You are strong, so she saw you as a potential threat.”

A threat. She forced herself to look at him, to face the man who killed those who might challenge his control of the worlds. How could she be a threat? Even if she was as powerful as he was, he had lived a thousand cycles. She could barely use magic at all.

“And… do you?”

He smiled. “No. I don’t intend to kill you.”

She exhaled in relief, then gathered her courage again.

“So why have you taken me from the Travellers?”

“To repeat my offer of a place in my world.”

She felt an echo of the excitement she’d felt in the Schpetan palace, when he’d first made the offer, but it soon withered away. He is not the Angel, she reminded herself. He is the Raen. He only wants me around because I’m a Maker, and to use the magic I generate to do terrible things out in the worlds.

He chuckled. “I do not need anyone to generate magic in my world. There is plenty there already. When I use magic, I take it from the world I am in, so the only place I’d be using the magic you create would be in my world. Since I take nobody there but those who wish to serve me and I have no reason to harm them, I will not be doing terrible things with your aid.”

“Then why take me there?”

“First, you are an artisan. A good artisan. One day you will be a great artisan. Second, the magic you made in your world enabled me to escape, and I wish to reward you for that.”

She looked down at the braid around her wrist. “I have found a life among the Travellers.”

“Have you?”

At the note of scepticism in his tone, she looked up and glared at him. “Yes! I accepted a marriage proposal just before you took me away!”

His gaze did not waver. “Yet you do not love him.”

She stared at him, suddenly hollow inside. It was pointless to deny it. He could see the truth in her mind. “Plenty of women do not marry for love.”

“But they would, if they had the choice. You have the choice. But you are still thinking like the girl you were in Fyre,” he told her. “The girl you were supposed to be in Fyre.”

“It was… the best choice,” she protested.

“It was the least challenging for you. That isn’t very fair on your fiancé.”

“It’s hardly fair on anyone to have you as a rival.”

He shook his head. “No. I am not his rival. You do not love me, either. You never have.”

A shiver ran over her skin. I did once, but not in a romantic or even carnal way. It was a spiritual love, based on a lie. And now I know he is not an Angel, and what he really is, I feel… She was not sure what she felt. Disappointment. Anger. Guilt. And a strange, uneasy hope. I am not considering his offer, she told herself. He is the Raen. Cruel and controlling.

“You judge me on the worst of what you have heard of me.”

“I read the mind of a witness, who saw you murder a man,” she told him.

He nodded. “At the Worweau Market. Yes. He was planning, with the help of other sorcerers, to kill me.”

“Oh.”

“I do what I must to keep the worlds from falling into chaos, and that includes dealing with those who would disrupt them. That cannot be done without some violence.” His voice darkened. “I killed some of the corrupt priests at the Mountain Temple who bred with the tainted women imprisoned there. You have also killed a priest.”

She winced. “I didn’t mean to,” she protested.

“No. You did not,” he acknowledged. “That it torments you despite this, and despite his nature, is to your credit.” He paused. “I choose carefully those I invite to my world, Rielle. At least explore this other choice before you dismiss it for a short life with a man you do not love. I can provide a teacher better than any of the Travellers can. They mean well, but a sorcerer of great strength learns best from another sorcerer with great strength. Once you know your true potential, you can choose whether to stay, leave, rejoin the Travellers or return to your world.”

“They would not take me back.”

“They might. They do not like me, but they also do not hate me. You know this.”

She looked away. He was right. The Travellers feared the risk of losing their freedom to travel and trade. She remembered what Yaikha had said: “As my father and his father before him said: the Raen may not hesitate to kill, and we may not agree with his reasons, but he does not do it for enjoyment.”