The smile deepened. “That depends on whether I needed someone murdered.”
A shiver ran down her spine as she realised she wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking. Looking away, she grimaced at the view. Don’t ask questions you know you might not like the answer to, she told herself.
“Fortunately, I don’t,” Valhan continued, turning back to face the city. “Murder is an unreliable way of solving problems. As is war. There is something else I want to show you.”
He extended his hand. She looked at it and paused. The hand of a killer. Well, what right do I have to be so judgemental? My own hands have blood on them, too. She grasped it and drew a deep breath.
The balcony and ruined city bleached into white. It was replaced by a wide circle of white paving stones in the centre of a convergence of streets. Hundreds of people made their way along these thoroughfares and around the circular road, avoiding the central pavement despite no physical barrier to keep them out. Lone men hauled strange little vehicles of one seat suspended between two big wheels. Sets of four or more carried platforms bearing one or two people. Some even carried others on their backs. If not, they carried other burdens–from small objects to ones large enough to bend them almost double. A few only carried whips, flicking them at one or two of the overburdened carriers.
Nobody paid her and Valhan any attention.
The air was heavy and moist, and smelled of vegetation though she could see no sign of plants. From the angle of the shadows it was either early morning or nearing dusk. Reaching out into the sea of minds around them, she learned it was the former. She caught glimpses of other parts of the city through the eyes of its citizens: inside homes, the abundant fields beyond the city edge, other crossroads like these from which sorcerers left this world, or arrived within it. The city was huge, though not as big as the ones she had seen in Puht and Koijen.
She slipped from mind to mind, seeking someone whose thoughts might reveal why Valhan had brought her here. In the mind of an ambassador from another world, living in a house a few streets away, she found answers.
The man was preparing for a meeting with the Emperor of Malez, who ruled most of this world. He was not looking forward to it. Every day the Malezans grew more like their former masters, the Koijen–corrupt, cruel and greedy. It’s fortunate, he thought, that I am strong enough that the local sorcerers can’t read my thoughts right now. He shuddered to think what might be done to him and his family if they could. It is not right that anyone should be killed for merely thinking unflattering thoughts about others. But it had happened.
Moving into another room, he worked a lever to draw warm water into a bowl. At least some of what we learned from the Koijen was beneficial. Is it possible for a world to gain good plumbing and not be changed for the worse? Does cleanliness on the outside just chase foulness inside? He grunted in sour amusement at the thought.
Rielle sought other minds, confirming the ambassador’s opinion and learning more. The Malezans, inspired by the Puht, had also sought the Raen’s help. It had taken a war–the one the people of Puht had assisted in–to remove the Koijen from their world. The conquerors had united most of the world under one system of governance, which the Malezans had retained, and with the common enemy removed, old grievances and prejudices had resurfaced, with many local peoples remaining as subjugated and exploited as they had been as slaves.
Someone has to do the dirty jobs, one Malezan princess thought as she watched servant women bent double, carting enormous baskets back from the washhouse. And my people have always been better suited to tasks that require leadership and good taste than menial work.
Turning to Valhan, Rielle searched his face for signs of regret and found none. “Did you know this would happen?”
“I have never met anyone who could predict the future.”
“But surely after a thousand cycles…?”
“I only know the most likely outcome, but that is no guarantee it will be the one. Forcing a people to develop in a certain direction is difficult and time consuming–and impossible to maintain for extended periods.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Is that what happened in your world?”
“The fewer people to control, the easier it is to control them.”
“So…” She looked around at the constantly moving traffic. “You can’t know that what you do–the favours you grant–will not do more good than harm?”
“There is always harm done. Every gain comes at a cost.”
“Will you try to correct things here?”
“No.”
She waited for him to explain why, but he remained silent. “Because… because nobody has asked you to?”