Tyen considered his options. If the former rebels thought he was an ally they would try to kill him. If the allies were the source of the rumour then they knew he wasn’t, and would try to kill him. Only the Raen’s most loyal friends would welcome him, but he didn’t wish to stay with them.
He could venture out on his own and find a remote world to settle in and concentrate on restoring Vella. The worlds would sort themselves out. And maybe it’s time to make the change to agelessness. It might make it easier to survive, if rebels or allies find me. Though it doesn’t seem to be helping the allies survive rebel attacks.
If he survived long enough he’d outlive the rumours, even if they were true–even if he admitted they were true. It would be so much easier to stop pretending. The temptation to confess everything to Baluka rose again, but he resisted it. He didn’t need Baluka trying to kill him on top of everyone else.
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” Tyen replied. “And… I’m sorry, Baluka, but it’d be better if I didn’t tell you what I’m considering in case someone reads it from your mind.”
Baluka nodded. “I understand.” Moving back to the window, he looked out over the city and sighed. “My role has reversed. Where I had to stir people to action before, now I’m now trying to encourage restraint. Not all allies exploited others, and not all were free to choose who they made deals with. But things are getting… out of hand.”
Tyen nodded. “I’ve heard.” The rebels now considered themselves liberators and avengers. Others called them conquerors and punishers, upsetting order and creating chaos. “Perhaps you should stop calling yourselves rebels. After all, the man you rebelled against is dead. Pick something to suit the direction you want to steer them in.”
Baluka turned to look at Tyen. “You’re right. Something like ‘restorers’ or ‘rebuilders’ perhaps. That might compel them to consider fixing the damage all the liberating and avenging is doing. And it might attract the help of allies who genuinely wish to atone for their past wrongs.” He smiled. “Perhaps you need a better title, too.”
Tyen winced. “What are they calling me?”
“Nothing yet,” Baluka said, a little too quickly, but Tyen read it from his mind. The Spy. “What would you like to be known as?”
A dozen words flashed into Tyen’s mind. Scout is what I was for the rebels, except during the battle. And the last thing Baluka asked me to do was find Rielle. Searcher? Seeker? Finder?
They were all words to do with spying. The good and acceptable part of spying. In the end, whether “spy” was good or bad only depended on whose side you were on.
His skin tingled as another option occurred to him. What if he accepted the name they’d given him? Could I turn this rumour to my advantage? He considered Vella’s suggestion that he seek Dahli’s help. He would be able to warn Baluka if Dahli’s friends found another way to resurrect the Raen. He might be able to stop them finding Rielle, or help her if they did.
If he managed any of these things, his spying would become admired, not reviled.
“Call me ‘Spy’,” he said. “Let them wonder who it is I’m spying for.”
Baluka’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed with a faint snap. His eyes narrowed, then as he began to guess what Tyen had in mind he started to smile.
“Very well then, Spy. I would not want to be in your position, but then, I’m not overly keen on mine at the moment, either.”
“You are more suited to it than me, Baluka. Just… my advice is: it’s time to give it up when someone better comes along. Try not to ignore or deny it when that happens. Otherwise it could be someone worse who takes your place.”
Baluka nodded. “I will.” He pushed away from the window and, to Tyen’s surprise, hugged him briefly. “Thank you. If nobody else remembers what you did for us, know that I always will.”
The guilt lurking at the back of Tyen’s mind stirred again. Nodding, pretending to be too overcome to speak, he stepped back and pushed out of the world, into the comforting whiteness of the place between.
RIELLE
When the wagons emerged out of the white, Rielle caught her breath. Her time among the Travellers seemed like the past of another person, not her own. Yet the sight filled her with longing.
And regret. Not guilt any more. Despite everything that had happened since leaving them, she still believed she had made the right choice when she had left. Time away had brought a clarity she hadn’t been able to find while among them. She could forgive the woman she had been, lost and vulnerable, for choosing what had been the safest future. The offer of a loving family had been too powerful to resist. She had been raised among people who arranged marriages and, having rebelled against the prospect of one as a young woman, accepting it had felt like she was finally behaving like a grown-up.
And yet, it had been cowardly and dishonest.