Angel of Storms (Millennium’s Rule, #2)

Seeing her casual stride shift to a familiar, inviting sway, he smiled. “You’ve chosen a bad time to visit.”


“Not happy to see me?” Snaking an arm around his neck, she pressed her mouth to his. He enjoyed the kiss, but while she did not hurry he detected a tension in her movements.

“Thrilled,” he said a little breathlessly when they parted. “But the prospect of a far less pleasant visitor has sent everyone running.”

“The Raen?” she said, taking one of his hands and stepping back. “That’s why I’m here. I figured the news would arrive before I did, but I was right to guess that you would not take it seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously,” he assured her. “I was returning to my room after consulting with Tarren on where to go. Besides, if this Raen is such an immediate danger, why did you risk coming here?”

She shrugged. “I am inviting my friends to come live with me in my world. Yourself included.”

“Friends” was the term she’d adopted for her lovers, after a few people in Liftre had been scandalised by her talking openly about them. She had always been honest about them with him. He’d wanted more in the beginning, but she hadn’t, and he’d had to accept that. Now “friends” seemed a more accurate term for them, even if they did sometimes share a bed.

“I thought you preferred that your friends didn’t meet?”

She shrugged. “It’s that, or never see any of them again. Will you join me?”

He considered. “Maybe. I have a promise to keep. Someone I said I’d help.”

“A former student?”

“No, but… some of my friends and former fellow students might not have heard the news. I should warn them.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Be careful. The Raen might allow Liftre sorcerers to travel home, but I doubt he’d tolerate much more.” She tugged at his arm, pulling him towards his room. “I’m not letting you disappear into the worlds without a last study session.”

He laughed. “Who isn’t taking the news seriously now?”

“I am serious. I seriously want you to come to my world, and I am seriously going to remind you why that would be fun.” As they reached his door she pushed him through, and he remembered just in time to tell Beetle to stop guarding the door as they staggered towards the bed. Yira kissed him again and began to unbutton his shirt.

Only then did he remember Vella was concealed under his clothing.





CHAPTER 3





She made no comment, setting Vella aside with one eyebrow raised. Afterwards she gathered up her clothes, kissed him, repeated her invitation for him to stay in her world, then vanished. Enjoying the lingering warmth and scent of her in the bed, he wondered if she planned to dress while travelling to the next world, or slip in and out of sight in each world naked. Even she wasn’t bold enough for the latter.

When next he opened his eyes he knew from the light streaming through the small window that it was late morning and he’d slept past the first bell. Then his heart lurched as he realised there hadn’t been a bell, and why.

He’d stayed in the school far longer than he ought to. Rising, he quickly slung Vella’s bag around his neck, wrapped a blanket around his waist and peered out of the door. The silence beyond his room was complete and unsettling. He’d crept through the school in the middle of the night before, when all was quiet, but this was different. It felt… devoid of life. Dead. He shivered, and a memory of a half-collapsed tower seen from above flashed through his mind’s eye. He closed the door and leaned against the back of it as an old horror washed over him and then faded again.

The memory of Spirecastle’s fall filled him with a sense of urgency he’d lacked before. He considered all his possessions. Travel light. That’s what Professor Kilraker always recommended. He remembered how Neel, as Mico predicted, had packed some ridiculously awkward belongings for the archaeological expedition on which Tyen had found Vella.

Neel. Mico. Kilraker. He hadn’t thought of them in a long time. They seemed like characters of a tale, or from someone else’s life. And here he was again, forced to leave an educational institution abruptly, with his life in danger. At least this time the threat wasn’t personal, and his education was complete.

Before his thoughts could turn to regrets… his father, Sezee… he focused his mind on packing. From under his bed he drew out a dusty old bag. Warm, hard-wearing clothing was essential–one set to wear and another to change into while the first was being washed. From the back of his cupboard he retrieved his aircart flyer’s jacket, the only article of clothing he’d saved from his world. Well made, it would last for a long time yet, and though he had once laughed at his fellow Academy students for wearing theirs to impress girls, it was a part of his identity now. Inside the pockets were gloves and a fur-lined hat with ear flaps that he’d bought in anticipation of making another aircart.

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