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

“No,” the Raen said. “Do nothing that would betray your familiarity with me. I detect no others near, but there is always a chance we may be observed from afar.”


Tyen resisted the urge to look around. At the same time he wondered what he should say next. He was supposed to report on the rebels. He thought of all that had occurred.

“They are disorganised,” he began. “They don’t comprehend the risks they are taking.”

The Raen’s gaze was fixed somewhere within Tyen’s head. “Moving the families out of the way was sensible, though Vella is right, they are not safe. Better to have each rebel hide his or her own family, so that only one family would be betrayed if they were caught.”

“I will try to convince them.” It was strange to be discussing ways to protect them with the person they needed protection from.

“They are in no danger from me, but others might act on my behalf, believing the rebels a threat.”

Tyen nodded. “Which they aren’t.”

“They will be. They will not give up as easily as you hope. They never do.”

“Unless I stop them.”

“That is not what I require from you. Do not attempt to slow or halt their development if it means compromising their trust in you.”

Tyen nodded. They’d have to trust me to begin with, for there to be any danger of me losing it, he thought wryly.

“They will trust you, after today,” the Raen assured him, then his voice grew quieter. “Do not linger here. They will wonder what you were doing between leaving their families and returning to the base. Any delay will undo all you have achieved.”

And between one blink and the next, he vanished.

Tyen stared at the wall behind where the Raen had been. He placed a hand over his heart, which was beating fast. Yet he was not afraid for himself.

Then who? The rebels? Something about the Raen’s last words nagged at him. The man’s face had shown no expression, his voice had been level and even. Yet the simple act of lowering his voice had hinted at a confidence, or a secret. Or a warning.

Tyen had not planned to talk with Vella for long. Why would a small delay undo the trust he’d earned, when all the sorcerers had been told to return to the base via different routes, to avoid leaving a freshly used path leading directly from the families to the rebels’ base?

If not returning immediately is suspicious, what could happen within that time that would make my delay significant?

Tyen’s skin prickled. He slipped Vella back into her pouch and pushed away from the world. How is it possible that the Raen knew I was alone, and where?

“Coincidence, or he–or someone else–was watching you,” Vella replied.

Surely he has better things to do. No, someone else has been watching me. They saw me. They may have seen all the people who I took with me. They may have followed, and read some of the minds of those people, and learned the location of the base… they’re going to attack the base!

He abandoned his indirect route and headed directly towards the Worweau Market hoping that speed would make up for hiding his tracks. Worlds flashed in and out of sight as he sped between them. Reaching the market, he stopped only to catch his breath before heading for the base. Doubts caught up with him then. What if he was wrong? He resisted the temptation to cut a direct path, keeping to their habit of winding back and forth on the many routes criss-crossing the world.

He saw someone flash past, then heard half a word that might have been his name. Slowing, he stretched his awareness back and sensed a familiar presence.

Brev, he thought. He stopped and surfaced in the world, arriving at the bottom of the cliff on which the ice sheet lay.

The young rebel materialised. At his grim expression Tyen felt his heart sink.

“What is it?”

“You can’t go back,” Brev said. “It’s been… the base has been attacked.”

Tyen cursed. I was right. But he felt no satisfaction, only a terrible guilt. Yet what could I have done to prevent this? If I’d confessed to being a spy before today they’d have moved everyone, including the families, to an equally ineffective hiding place.

“You couldn’t have done anything, Tyen,” Brev told him. “It happened a while ago, I reckon. Maybe not long after you all left. The bodies were cold.”

Tyen stared at him. He felt sick. “Are they all… dead?” he made himself ask.

“No.” Brev’s smile was grim but triumphant. “I reckon everyone scattered, like we’d planned. But he got Ayan and five others. I don’t know if he managed to chase anyone down afterwards, though.” He shuddered. “I came back from testing a few new recruits and found them. Got out of there as quick as I could. I took the tunnel in case they came back and tracked me. Longest sled ride of my life.”

Tyen shivered at the memories he was catching in Brev’s mind. The Raen had killed six rebels; then, directly afterwards, sought Tyen out. He said nothing. But why would he?

He shook his head. “Was there a place we were supposed to meet if this happened?”

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