“We have heard tales of your rescue,” he said. “But the tale is best told by one who was there.” He smiled briefly. “Tell us your story.”
So she did. She described briefly the land of her birth, of the Angels that all believed in, and of their laws against using magic. She explained that she had broken that law and was sent to the Mountain Temple, where terrible things had happened before the Angel put a stop to it. She skimmed over her time in Schpeta, explaining only that she had started a new life far from home and nothing of significance had happened until the city came under siege.
Then she related how the Angel had arrived and ended the siege, saving the city. He had told her she had replaced the magic she had stolen, and more, and he offered her a place as an artisan in his world. Then she struggled through a jumble of memories: travelling between worlds, Inekera testing her powers, another journey and then abandonment in the desert.
“Which is where Baluka found me,” she finished.
Yaikha allowed a long pause to follow, as all absorbed what they had been told. Then he leaned towards her.
“The name of the Angel?”
“Valhan,” she said, trying not to make it sound like an admission.
“Your world was poor in magic?”
“Yes, compared to all I have travelled through since.”
“And he took a great deal of it before he left?”
“Almost all of it.”
“When in Diama you saw a portrait of him in Lord Felomar’s palace, yes?”
She shook her head. “I saw a man who looked similar in appearance. Remarkably similar. But I do not believe it was the same man.”
“Despite the name and the similarity?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you so convinced of this?”
She paused to consider. “First, his eyes. The Angel’s were kind. The man’s in the portrait were not. Val–the Angel–ended the cruelty at the Mountain Temple. He gave me a new life far from there. He withdrew from the attention of others at the palace, seeking solitude and quiet. Everything I have heard of this Raen…” She shook her head. “He is different. He would have sought to rule my world. He would have forced or recruited artisans to make the magic he needed to escape. He would have forbidden priests from using magic. He would have used the Mountain Temple for his own purposes. He… he is not the Angel.”
Yaikha nodded as she ran out of words. A little breathless, she made herself breathe slowly and deeply, readying herself for the question that must come next.
“So you believe there are two men with the same name and appearance?”
“I do.” She straightened and glanced around the circle. “I have been told the Raen can change his appearance. The priests taught me that Angels have protected the… my world for thousands of years–a measure of time similar to cycles. I know now that the Angel Valhan’s realm is outside of my world, as must be the other Angels’ realms. If that is so, then worlds other than mine must have worshipped them as well. I believe the Raen took on an Angel’s name and appearance in order to deceive and… and that when the Angel Valhan left me with Inekera to check that his world was safe it was the Raen’s mischief that he feared.”
Yaikha’s eyebrows rose as she considered this. “Ah. And Inekera thought him the imposter?”
Rielle’s heart skipped. “Possibly.” She hadn’t thought of that.
“This is an interesting theory,” Yaikha said. He looked around the circle. “Does anyone have questions?”
“I have,” a man with an impressively long beard said. At Yaikha’s nod, he looked around the circle. “Are there any signs the Raen has changed his ways since his return?”
“That he has grown a softer heart and gentler hand?” Yaikha asked, then chuckled. He looked around the circle. “Do the accounts and rumours suggest it?”
The men and women shook their heads, some glancing around to confirm that all agreed. Rielle thought of the killing of the sorcerer at Worweau Market and shivered.
“I have a question,” a middle-aged man with reddish hair said. As soon as Yaikha nodded, he addressed his fellow Travellers. “If this Angel is the enemy of the Raen, is it not also a risk to take in one he favoured?”
A murmur rose among the leaders, but Lejikh’s voice cut through it. “The Raen is not known to be so ruthless that he would kill someone who had a brief and unknowing association with an enemy. If he did, the majority of his immortal life would be spent finding and dealing with them.”
“How do we know it isn’t?” the woman who had spoken earlier muttered.