“You are a sorcerer, too,” Ankari replied, proving that she could read Rielle’s mind as well. The word meant someone who could use magic. Rielle winced. “All sorcerers can read minds,” Ankari continued, “unless the mind belongs to a stronger sorcerer. I am a sorcerer, but I am keeping my thoughts open to you so that you can understand me.”
In Ankari’s mind another level of complexity to this mind reading was explained. While a more powerful sorcerer could learn to see past the block that most sorcerers maintained to hide their thoughts, it was considered rude to do so. Ankari was only reading Rielle’s mind in order to communicate, and would stop whenever she didn’t need to, or if Rielle objected.
Rielle sat up slowly, sliding her legs over the end of the bed. I was never able to read minds at home, she thought. Was that because the priests were stronger than me? But they couldn’t have read my mind either, or they’d have known I was tainted earlier. Rielle saw that the woman did not have an answer to that. Maybe magic is different here in an Angel’s world.
Ankari shook her head. “No,” she said. “It is the same in all worlds–and nobody lives in this world.”
Rielle stared at the woman, hearing and measuring the certainty in voice and mind. Ankari believed that this was one of countless worlds. Most were populated by humans, but this one had been abandoned long ago. She’d never heard of beings called “Angels”.
Rielle shivered. If Ankari was right, Inekera had definitely not sent her to Valhan’s world. Unless Ankari was wrong… Rielle glanced at the light. After all, she has never heard of Angels and doesn’t know using magic is forbidden.
Ankari smiled again. “Magic is not forbidden in most worlds. Nobody will punish you for using it, so long as you obey local laws.”
Rielle understood then that none of the sorcerers this woman had ever encountered before–and there were many–had been forbidden to use magic. They were free to use it, and as a result were admired, respected or sometimes feared, depending on the world they were in and their reputation.
Ankari held out a wooden cup filled with water. Taking it, Rielle restrained herself to a sip, remembering the warning of the Angel–man?–against drinking too quickly. The water tasted strange. Salty. She looked up at Ankari.
“It contains the salts you sweated out,” the woman said, “and will help you recover.” It is strange that she didn’t know mind reading was possible, the woman was thinking. Perhaps she came from a very weak world–but then how did she leave it? How did she get here? Ankari frowned as Rielle remembered the Angel’s invitation and Inekera’s fearful expression as she shoved Rielle towards this world. Is it some kind of cruel rivalry between the Raen’s allies? Ankari thought, mistaking the Angels for people. The woman hesitated as she noticed Rielle noticing her mistake, then decided it would be rude to pursue the subject now. She nodded at the cup in Rielle’s hand.
“Drink. Rest. I will return soon.” She pushed through the curtain and Rielle heard her footsteps recede and a door open and close.
Rielle considered the last thoughts she’d overheard. Ankari believed it likely that the Angels were two powerful sorcerers who were loyal to an even stronger sorcerer–this man known as “the Raen”. There had been no opportunity to explain, but perhaps there would be later. She obeyed the woman’s first suggestion, draining the cup. Her stomach didn’t rebel. Instead it growled with hunger. Looking down at herself, she noticed she was not wearing her jacket, shoes or the head covering she’d fashioned from her underskirt but a simple shift. Her skin was faintly oily and smelled fragrant. She was uncomfortably warm. It must be daytime outside.
All this she noted, yet her mind was abuzz with excitement. She had read someone’s mind! And they had read hers. What did this mean? Was it a gift from the Angels?
The door opened again. She looked up, but nobody opened the curtain. Someone was there, however. Her skin prickled. She pressed her mind forward, seeking whoever lurked there.
It was a young man, hesitating because it would be impolite to barge in on her, and his mother, Ankari, had told him not to disturb her. Yet he was full of curiosity. Judging by the memories that flashed through his mind, he was the one who had found her. He wanted to know if she was as beautiful in daylight as at night. Astonished, unable to help feeling vainly pleased and knowing he might have read that from her mind, she was suddenly too embarrassed to speak. A voice came from behind the curtain.
“May I come in?”
She cleared her throat. How do I say “yes” in these people’s language? At once his mind supplied the answer.
“Ka,” she replied.