Tyen looked away, not trusting himself to speak.
“Well, my guess is the book is a memento. Something to remind you of her. I carry something similar.” Baluka drew back the sleeve of his coat to reveal a colourful plaited cord tied around his wrist. I doubt the memory will match the reality now. I have changed so much she wouldn’t recognise me, he added silently. And she? Will she be the same? He felt a stab of impatience. It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting her away from him.
“Well, we know the location of the Raen’s world now,” Baluka continued. “How long should we wait until we give the signal? How long until all the worlds know to watch for it?”
“If the number of worlds is infinite, a very long time,” Tyen could not resist pointing out.
Baluka chuckled. “We need only reach as far as the hatred of the Raen has spread. I guess we could be waiting a long time for that, too.” He ran a finger under his sleeve, probably tracing the braid. “Then we wait until we have enough fighters to defeat him, plus a few more to be sure.”
Tyen frowned. “How do we know how many is enough? And what if Resca changes his mind and tells the Raen we know the location of his world?”
“It will make no difference.” Baluka shook his head. “It is his world. If he does not defend it he will look weak and we will destroy an asset. That is the beauty of the plan: it doesn’t matter if he knows all of it. There are so many of us now that he and his allies won’t be able to stop the signal spreading, and we outnumber them so they can’t stop all of us gathering together. Once we are gathered and we face the enemy, numbers matter less than strength. We can’t know how strong we are, or he and the allies. We can only hope we are stronger. Still, we know his strength is not limitless, or he would not have been trapped in Rielle’s world for so long.” He smiled. “And we have a lot of support. I think we will win this battle, Tyen.”
Tyen managed a wan smile in return. Listening to Baluka, all confidence and determination, only made him feel sick. He’s going to die. The Raen, or his allies, are going to win, and the one person they’ll make sure they kill is Baluka. The knowledge was like a fist in his stomach, especially now that he knew Baluka considered him a friend.
When he’d let Baluka take over the leadership he hadn’t anticipated that he’d end up liking the Traveller. He couldn’t help admiring the man’s intelligence, determination and bravery. He sympathised with Baluka’s bleak view of the choices he’d made in the hopes of helping the woman he loved, even though he suspected she would not like the man he’d become.
Closing his eyes, Tyen concentrated on the faint pressure of Vella’s weight on the strap around his neck. A memory rose, old but much revisited, of Tarren in his rooms holding a calligraphy brush.
“… what are you prepared to do in order to fulfil your promise to her?”
He’d not known what he was getting into, when he’d agreed. He’d not had a great deal of choice, either. The Raen had caught him travelling between worlds and the only way to avoid punishment was to strike a deal.
He’d consoled himself with the hope his spying put him in a position to prevent the deaths of many people, but he knew now that the rebels were never going to give up and go home for anything less. Once the allies had attacked the first rebel base the future had been unalterable. Retaliation had to follow, and in return the allies had avenged Preketai’s death by killing Yira. He was surprised, in retrospect, at how long he’d managed to hold them back when he was leader.
But since Baluka had taken over the rebels they’d been moving steadily towards a major confrontation. Tyen could not see how he could have prevented it, either. The Raen had made it clear he wanted the Traveller in charge. Perhaps he wanted the inevitable confrontation over and done with.
Would revealing his true role as a spy for the Raen make a difference? Would knowing the ruler of worlds was aware of his plans make Baluka give up?
The urge to confess everything rose up like something rotten in Tyen’s stomach that he needed to purge. Then his throat tightened as he recalled Baluka’s words:
“That is the beauty of the plan: it doesn’t matter if he knows all of it. There are so many of us now that he and his allies won’t be able to stop the signal spreading, and we outnumber them so they can’t stop all of us gathering together.”
Nothing he could do now would stop the rebels confronting the Raen.
Nothing I can do now. Perhaps another opportunity would come. He could only watch and hope.