Perhaps even a world where using magic was not a crime.
Sensing exasperation from Baluka, she turned to regard him. He shook his head in apology and looked away. She saw then that, while he didn’t want to offend her by disbelieving her, he thought the Angels she’d met were sorcerers. Not sorcerers like the Travellers, but men and women who ruled whole worlds–sometimes several–and were more often feared than loved. Sorcerers who… no, don’t frighten her unnecessarily… Still, they had no right to deceive her into thinking they were higher beings, and that she couldn’t use magic. It was such a waste! But it was clear she couldn’t easily dismiss the taboos of her world, and it was unfair to expect her to.
Change the subject, he told himself again. Rielle heartily agreed. She considered the people around her.
“Does your family have a home world?” she asked.
He shook his head. “We consider some places ours in that only this family visits them. Like the world we just left. It is a safe resting place because there is magic and it is unpopulated. The closest we come to a home world is the one where all Traveller families meet each cycle.”
“Cycle?”
“A measure of time based on the lom’s fertile cycle. It has become a method of measuring time across many worlds, used in combination with each world’s own seasons, because it is always the same length, whereas nearly all worlds’ seasons don’t match and some don’t have any. Travellers meet in a particular world at the lom’s fertile time so we can crossbreed our animals. We exchange news and catch up with family members who have married outside of the family, arrange ma… Ah! Derem is back already.”
Following his gaze, Rielle saw the young man talking to Lejikh. He was smiling, and Baluka took this to mean all was well at their destination. Lejikh moved to the centre of the circle and called for everyone’s attention.
“The Kezel know we’re here,” he said. “We’ve been invited to a feast. Chief Ghallan is entertaining a rival leader and wants to impress the man with his association with us. If we’re to get there in time we have to leave now.”
Baluka grinned. “Come on. My parents’ wagon will go first and you’ll want to ride in it. The road to Zun is always a mess. It’s not a long journey, though… I hope you don’t get wagon sickness.” Which was like sailing sickness, Rielle saw in his mind. All the passengers on the ship to Schpeta had been ill from it, including herself–a memory that hadn’t faded in five years. She could only hope wagon sickness wasn’t as bad.
Following him to the wagon, she stopped as she realised the stairs were gone, leaving only a single step below the doorway. Before she could consider how she was going to climb up gracefully, hands grasped her by the waist and lifted. A yelp of surprise escaped her.
“Knees up,” Baluka said, amusement radiating from him.
The step was at the level of her thighs now. Somehow she swung her feet up onto it, grasped the sides of the doorway and hauled herself inside. Though his hands were no longer on her waist she could still feel the pressure of them. She wasn’t sure if she ought to be annoyed at being handled like a piece of baggage or grateful for his help. Then the wagon lurched and she was scrabbling for a handhold. The door frame met her palm and she gripped it, managing to stay upright. Outside, Ankari was holding one of the lom’s head straps, leading it forward. The cart was rolling over the uneven ground towards a gap in the trees.
Baluka and Lejikh walked before the wagon. Vines filled the space between the trees, but as the pair neared, the plants seemed to shrink away from them, leaving bare, dark earth. She looked for Stain around them, but the rocking of the wagon made it hard to focus that closely. Still, it must be a world with plenty of magic or the Stain would be obvious.
Once the wagon reached the cleared area it stopped rocking. Ankari let go of the lom’s head strap and, with a nimbleness that Rielle hoped she’d enjoy at the woman’s age, hoisted herself up onto the wagon, twisting so she landed sitting face-out on the wagon doorstep. She glanced back and up at Rielle and smiled, then pointed first at one of the squat chairs inside, then at her eyes and at the nearest window. Nodding, Rielle moved the chair close to an opening and sat down.
The forest passed by slowly. After a while she began to notice smaller details. Little creatures with pincers and shiny wings glided between the trees. Colourful growths fanned out from the bark. Vines stretched and twined upwards, using the trees as a support and sometimes forming a net between them.