“Our healer may be able to help him.”
“If she can be visited safely.” Rielle grimaced. “If you can make any kind of arrangement without endangering your family and people. There are sorcerers–powerful, ageless sorcerers–looking for us. For him.” She looked at the Boy. “To finish what was started.”
Ankari nodded. She met the gaze of each of the other Travellers. Rielle held her breath as they made small signals to indicate whether they were in favour of helping the Boy. She looked for signs they might turn him over to the Raen’s friends, or the rebels, or even kill him. If they decided to punish her for encouraging their leader’s son to believe she loved him, giving him the motive to leave them and join the rebels when she left, she’d understand. But she wouldn’t allow them to harm the Boy.
As she followed their silent conversation the tension and worry in her eased. She saw sympathy towards both her and the Boy. The child needed help, and the Travellers always tried to assist when they could. They knew of a thousand places to hide. After many, many cycles bound to an agreement with the Raen, they could at last do something to redress a small part of the damage he had done.
Ankari turned back to Rielle. “We will help this young man.”
Letting out the breath she had been holding, Rielle sagged with relief. “Thank you.”
“But you must leave him with us,” Ankari added. “You may come with me to visit the healer, but you must not know where we take him afterwards.”
Rielle’s heart sank. “I can’t leave him. He is my responsibility.”
“And you have brought him to those you thought would best take care of him.”
The woman’s gaze was steady, yet Rielle hesitated.
“Look into my mind,” Ankari invited.
A familiar face appeared in the woman’s thoughts. A face grown much older than it should have, since she’d last seen it. While Lejikh and Ankari were saddened by how things had gone between Rielle and their son, they were proud of him, for though the elders had decided he could never live among them again, he had brought about the end of the Raen’s dominance over the worlds. Despite being no match in strength to what Valhan had been. No Successor had defeated the Predecessor this time. Just a humble Traveller.
“He’s alive,” Rielle whispered, then bowed her head. “I am so sorry.”
“It was not your fault,” Ankari said. “Baluka said you never told him you loved him, and you know we Travellers marry for many reasons other than love. Those decisions can be reversed with no blame on either side. Every decision was right at the time it was made.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on Rielle’s arm. “You cannot stay with the Boy because he is safest that way. You must keep the Raen’s friends’ eyes from him. Distract them. Draw them away.” She leaned back again. “If we take him you must not seek us out. We will find a way to keep you informed of his progress.”
Rielle looked at the Boy. Ankari was right. She had been floundering from world to world since she’d told the handsome sorcerer to leave her. Even getting food was immensely difficult when you had to keep watch over a youth with the mind of a child and with an uncanny resemblance to the Raen.
Dahli was right. I know nothing. I have to fill the gaps in my knowledge–how to fight, how to travel between worlds rather than careen between them.
“The Boy needs a name,” Ankari decided. She looked at the Boy and smiled. “Let’s call him Qall. It means ‘mother’s hope’ in Lindori, and he looks a little like a Lindorian.”
Rielle touched Qall’s arm. He turned to her, his gaze full of trust. Her heart twisted as she remembered how he had screamed when she’d first drawn him out of his forced sleep.
“Do you like your new name, Qall?” she asked.
He blinked, not comprehending. She touched her chest. “Rielle. I am Rielle.” She touched his. “Qall. You are Qall.”
His mouth opened, twitched and a breathy sound came out.
“All,” he said. “Qall.”
Ankari chuckled. “He’s a fast learner.”
Rielle nodded. He may never remember who he was or know what he was supposed to become, but at least among the Travellers he will learn to be a new person among good, kind people. In a family, who can teach him how to survive in the worlds. That is more than I can provide, for now. Until she could offer more, she would do everything she could to keep him safe.
Even if that meant going far, far away.