Thief’s Magic (53 page)

“Nice room. Ours is bigger, but has two beds. Where have you been all day?”

Tyen followed her to the centre of the room. “Ysser took me for a tour of the castle. Well, until he was interrupted by a summons from the k—”

Sezee whirled to face him. “A tour? And you didn’t come and get us?”

He stared at her. “Um. No. Well, I expected you’d join us but when you didn’t I thought they must have taken you out separately.”

She pursed her lips, then smiled and shrugged. “Yes, they did. But it would have been nicer to look around together, wouldn’t it? When we asked if you could come along they went to fetch you, but you’d already gone. Didn’t you ask if we could come with you?”

“I … um…”

She tsked and moved to the window. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve come to say goodbye.”

He stared at her in surprise. “Goodbye?” he repeated.

She turned to face him. “Yes. Veroo and I are leaving. A group of young Sselts set off to the school two days ago, as they apparently do twice a year, but they’re travelling slowly and we should catch up by midnight.”

“You’re leaving
now
?”

“Once I’m finished talking to you.” She walked over to him. Her gaze moved everywhere except his face. “It takes a few months to get to the school, which will give us time to learn the language.”

“But…”

Her eyes rose to meet his. “But?”

“So soon. We’ve only just got here and I…”

She smiled – or, rather, her lips widened but her eyes showed no humour. “You?”

“I haven’t decided what to do next.”

Her half-smile faded and a crease appeared between her brows. She took a step closer and reached out towards his face. The soft hide of her gloves brushed his cheek.

“Dear Tyen,” she said softly. “That confirms all my suspicions. If you felt for me as I do for you there would be no decision to make.”

He looked down, heart twisting with both guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say.

She sighed. “There is nothing to apologise for. I don’t mind. How could I? But it is no fun being with someone you love when the feeling isn’t reciprocated.” Her voice caught and he looked up to see her blinking quickly. She stepped back. “We are going to the school. You can’t. If the Academy follows you here it’s the first place they’ll look. So we were always going to part. It has been a grand adventure, Tyen. For that Veroo and I thank you. You brought us across the uncrossable mountains. You taught Veroo to fly.”

He followed and caught up one of her hands. “I owe you a greater thanks for helping me leave Leratia and escape the Academy. Please, pass on my gratitude to Veroo for helping drive the aircart, too. She did very well. I think she may have a natural knack for it.”

She smiled, squeezed his hand then pulled hers away. “I will tell her. She’ll be quite chuffed to hear that. And sorry she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye herself.”

He frowned. “Where is she?”

“Packing. We really do need to leave quickly if we are going to catch up with the recruits.” She turned towards the door, then paused and looked back. “By the way, the king gave us quite a generous exchange rate. He wants to have some money on hand for when the next lot of northerners turn up. Which I think is a good hint of how soon you need to leave, Tyen. And don’t tell anyone where you are going.”

He nodded. “I won’t.”

She gazed at him for a moment longer, her expression sad, then managed a smile. Without another word she headed for the door. A few steps and she was gone.

He stared at the back of the door.
Am I mad for letting her go?
he wondered. He nearly hurried after her to ask them to wait for him to pack and join them. But her warning kept him still.

“
… don’t tell anyone where you are going …
”

Tonight he would find out as much as he could about the Far South from Ysser, and let the man know that he was keen to begin his exploration as soon as possible – if not tomorrow then the day after. He would either have to avoid saying where he would go, or lie about his intended destination.

But for now there was nothing he could do but wait until Ysser returned. The old man was the only person who knew enough Leratian to tell him what he needed to know, and he was currently attending to the king. Frustrated, Tyen kept himself distracted by tossing objects towards the bed and teaching Beetle to fly after and catch them. He found himself imagining Sezee and Veroo making their way down endless stairs to the city below, despite knowing they had probably ridden one of the wooden platforms at the centre of the spire. Though Sezee would not have liked that. Not at all.
Hmm, I wonder if her dislike of heights was part of the reason for her eagerness to leave.

Finally, a tapping came at the door. He grabbed Vella and ordered Beetle into the satchel, then went to answer it. A messenger greeted him with open palm. While the flyers were all girls, the messengers who worked inside the spire were all boys. This one held up a piece of paper.

“The Cryll requests you join him for dinner,” he said, slowly and with great care. “Bring Beetle. Follow me.”

Tyen slung his satchel over his shoulder, stepped out of the room and nodded. At once the boy turned and started down the corridor.

As he followed his young guide, Tyen considered how he should approach his questioning of Ysser. If he was to ensure nobody knew where he’d gone, he could not show too much interest in any places the old man suggested he visit. Or else he should show interest in destinations he didn’t want to visit and a lack of interest in those that appealed. Though the next time the Academy came visiting the old man would learn that Aren Coble was actually Tyen Ironsmelter and perhaps guess he’d only been pretending disinterest.

The boy, with the thoughtlessness of youth, dashed up the last flight of stairs with enviable speed. Tyen followed, but had to pause to catch his breath at the top. More guards stood along the corridor leading to the rooms in which the king entertained and met visitors. They regarded him with wary looks, so he pushed himself on.

The boy did not lead him to the dining room, but towards a pair of large, ornate doors. A guard opened one for Tyen. The boy gestured to the opening then hurried away to his next task. Still breathing quickly, Tyen stepped through.

The room he entered was not large, but made up for it in grandeur. Tall windows allowed in the afternoon light, currently a deep red from the setting sun. The colour reflecting off the gilding on the paintings and plasterwork made it look as if the room was on fire. It also cast the occupants of the room into russet-edged shadows, so Tyen had to squint to see their faces.

When he did, his blood froze.

“Tyen Ironsmelter,” Professor Kilraker said. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

T
he merchant’s camp surrounded the well. Firelight threw warped, elongated shadows of men onto the sand, stretching to join with those of long-legged kapo, their burdens still strapped to their narrow backs. Even the steam rising from the pot the cook carried to his fellows cast a shadow.

Sa-Mica turned away and led the way back down the road. In the distance the dune that they’d climbed over was a pale crescent. Nobody could stop the sands shifting in the winds, but the road was straight so wherever dunes covered it a person only had to walk onwards and they would easily find it again on the other side.

“We aren’t going to join them?” Sa-Gest asked.

“They would not rest well knowing a tainted was close by,” Sa-Mica replied.

“What about refilling our flasks?”

“It can wait until morning.”

“Mine’s empty.”

“You must drink more slowly.”

“I would have if I’d known, but…”

Ignoring him, Sa-Mica turned off the road and climbed a dune. Rielle followed. Sa-Gest paused, then hurried after them. The scarred priest reached the top of the dune and paused to look around. Starlight bathed the desert in a deep, cool blue. It softened the edges of everything, turning the gritty texture of the dunes into smooth sculptures. Sa-Mica waited until Sa-Gest caught up, panting, then started down the other side. Rielle felt soft sand change to hard ground as they reached the bottom.

“We will sleep here tonight,” Sa-Mica said.

He shrugged off his pack. Pain lanced through Rielle’s shoulders as she tried to do the same. Holding still until it eased, she considered how else she might remove it. Sitting down, she felt the weight lift off her shoulders as the base of the pack met the ground. With a wriggle she was able to extract her shoulders from the straps. After stretching and rubbing the stiffness out, she pulled the sleeping mat free and spread it over the ground a few steps away from Sa-Mica’s.

They had been walking for three days now. Each night they had camped at a well, sleeping on mats with nothing but their clothing between them and the stars. As soon as the sun rose they ate a quick meal then set off again. Sa-Mica stopped only to eat and they did not halt when the sun set. The day’s trek ended when they reached whichever well Sa-Mica chose to rest at – which could be soon after sunset or closer to midnight.

The rope sandals had chafed Rielle’s feet until they bled, so she’d walked barefoot on the hot sand. The heavy chain about her neck rubbed, too, and the weight of it gave her headaches, but she could do nothing about that. Her scarf kept the sun off most of her face, but wherever her skin was exposed – hands, feet and above the neckline of her tunic – it burned.

Sa-Mica approached and opened her pack. Though they each carried their own sleeping mat and water, the rest of their supplies were divided among them. Rielle had noted that Sa-Mica removed food from her and Sa-Gest’s pack more than his own. Perhaps he had other items stowed in his. Perhaps he figured they should use up the food in her pack first, so she was less tempted to run away.

She touched the chain at her throat. Thanks to her brother’s stories and advice, she knew better than to venture into the desert with less than a day’s water. How would she get away from the priests, anyway? They took it in turns to watch her through the night. Even if Sa-Gest fell asleep during his watch, she doubted she’d be awake to notice. When she lay down she slipped into an exhausted slumber, only broken by the rising sun.

Perhaps they feared she’d use magic to get away, but what chance had she, ignorant and unskilled, against two priests? No chance at all.

Yet despite the impossibility of escape, contemplating it drew her out of the sadness and despair she’d felt since her capture. She knew she could not survive in the desert, but it did not go on for ever. Her family’s maps showed that there was a long line of mountains on the other side of the sands. She was being taken to a place called the Mountain Temple, not the Desert Temple. Perhaps, if she was lucky, Sa-Gest would fall asleep on his watch and she’d slip away before either priest noticed.

Would I use magic if I had to?

Her soul was already tainted. What would it matter if it became more tainted? The Angels would tear it asunder when she died anyway.

I have nothing left to lose but the last years of my life.
This thought had occurred to her a few days ago, and it had returned many times since. She had lost her family, her lover, her future and the regard of the Angels. Even if she managed to run away, she would still feel the terrible weight of guilt. Part of her wanted to be punished, if that would somehow make things right.
And I still love the Angels and don’t want to steal what’s rightly theirs.

Interrupting her thoughts, Sa-Mica handed her a lump of stale bread, a stick of dried meat and a handful of salted beans.

“Tomorrow night’s fare will be fresher,” he promised as he gave the same to Sa-Gest, with an added bundle of sweet preserved fruit.

Rielle’s heart leapt. Did that mean they were nearing the end of the desert? She did not dare ask.

With such a dry meal, she was glad to have saved half of her water. After she had eaten she still had a quarter of her flask left. As she went to slip it back into the outer pocket of her pack, Sa-Mica extended a hand to her.

“Give it to me.”

She obeyed. He handed the flask to Sa-Gest, who immediately guzzled the rest. As she received it back she wiped the mouth of it thoroughly on her skirt. His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

On the first night she had been all too conscious of him watching her. Every time she’d glanced his way he’d smirked at her, so she’d tried to avoid looking at him at all. The next morning the sound of voices had roused her. She realised the two priests were talking and she’d come fully awake when she heard her name spoken.

“… harmed in any way. You will find your new superior will not be as forgiving as your former ones.”

“I have never forced myself on a woman,” Sa-Gest objected.

“You prefer to trick them into compliance. Yes, I know why they were so anxious to send you with me.”

There was a pause. “They said I was better suited to a life there.”

“You may be, but you must still adhere to the rules.”

“I understand.”

“And common sense should tell you it is easier dealing with a co-operative tainted. It is clear she fears you. Keep your distance unless I tell you otherwise.”

It had not stopped Sa-Gest smirking at her when Sa-Mica’s attention was elsewhere, but he did stay away from her. Their conversation had filled her with questions and doubts, however. It suggested that Sa-Gest had caused trouble in other ways than threatening her, and some of the priests in Fyre had known of it, and perhaps tolerated it. But it also sounded as if his behaviour would not be accepted at the prison. So why, then, was Sa-Gest not dismayed to be going there? And why was life there better suited to him? The questions worried at her when there was nothing else to distract her.

Perhaps it was knowing he would be at the prison that made her think about escaping so much.

Now, as she saw Sa-Mica bring out a little lamp and his book, she felt a contradictory mix of eagerness and dread. Every night Sa-Mica had read a story from a small book.
Encounters with Angels
it was called. She’d never heard of it before, or the tales he’d read. While any distraction from her thoughts would be welcome, she suspected these readings were meant to remind her what her ultimate fate would be, as they were often about the tainted. Still, he had a lovely deep voice that she could have listened to for hours, and not all of the stories had grim endings.