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.
She had grown used to the thought she would never see her childhood home again. The prospect of starting over again was exhausting. The Travellers believed she would not be truly safe if she didn’t return to her own world. That made staying with the Travellers the best choice.
The Travellers wanted her to stay with them. She liked them, and their way of living. She liked Baluka…
The choice seemed obvious, but still she hesitated. A decision that would shape the rest of her life was not one to be making hastily. She needed time to consider all the advantages and disadvantages. But how much time do I have? Until we leave the market? Until the Travellers’ healer can try to make me fertile again? She looked down at the braid. I guess I have to make one of these to tie on Baluka’s wrist if I accept, so at the very least I have that long.
CHAPTER 13
The closer the Travellers came to the Gathering, the more excitement they expressed. The adults betrayed it in subtle ways, hurrying at preparations. The children swung from impatience to anticipation. Now, a world before the meeting place, nobody was hiding their excitement.
Jikari emerged from her family’s wagon to whistles of admiration. Her tunic was a deep orange-red that complemented her brown skin beautifully and was stitched with pale blue designs. The trousers she wore beneath reversed the colour combination. Her black hair had been braided into an intricate rope that hung over her shoulder down to her waist. The young woman’s mouth twitched as she kept her expression lofty and dignified. Then she stepped off the wagon and floated to the ground. Fine lines of Stain radiated out from where the girl had been standing when she’d drawn in magic, but they lingered only briefly before disappearing.
So it had been in all the worlds the Travellers had visited, Rielle reflected. In some, the darkness where magic had been taken disappeared so quickly that she barely had time to register it, even when she was watching for it. Yet the Travellers regarded this world as one of the weaker ones of their cycle and had encouraged her to draw as often as possible to replace the magic they used.
“Are you ready?” Ankari asked.
Rielle turned to see the woman examining her critically. “I… am I?”
The cloth of Rielle’s tunic and trousers was a deep red. Gold thread had been stitched all over the bodice, making it almost as stiff as leather. It was one of Ankari’s sets, saved from when she was younger, the trousers lengthened by the addition of gold cloth cuffs.
As more appreciative whistles penetrated the wagon’s walls, Rielle glanced through the window again. Hari stood where Jikari had been, dressed in a long green tunic cut on the bias that almost brushed the ground. It was more fitted at the top, the yoke stitched with multitudes of tiny black beads. Her hair fell like ribbons from a knot at the back. She, too, floated to the ground.
“You’re next oldest,” Ankari said, pushing Rielle to the door.
“But I can’t…” Rielle began.
“I will do it for you.”
The woman opened the door and guided Rielle into view with a firm hand in the middle of the back. As whistles rose from the crowd Rielle’s face began to heat. She glanced back at Ankari, who made a shooing gesture. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the air beside the wagon as if there were an invisible platform waiting for her.
There was. A solidness met her shoe. She wobbled a little as she brought her other foot forward to meet the first, then again as she began to descend. When the stony ground met her feet she let out a sigh of relief and quickly walked forward.
Baluka emerged from the crowd, smiling, to meet her.
“You are beautiful,” he said, his gaze travelling over her clothing.
“Thank you.” She looked down. “But I am going to be very hungry tonight.”
He frowned. “No? Are you unwell?”
She shook her head. “If I eat I will be sure to make it dirty.”
He laughed. “No, you won’t.” He extended a hand, so she took it and was guided into the crowd, which had turned to whistle at the next woman emerging from the wagons.