Maker's Curse Read online

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed out of the world and retraced her steps. She could not see how she could have gone astray in the last world, so she retreated to the next. And the next. Finally, after she had reversed through five worlds, she headed back to the world of the forest, reassured that she had followed the directions correctly, and the error was Baluka’s, not hers.

  Her next option was to search around the local worlds in the hope she was close to her destination. The people in this world might know where Telemna-vo was located or, if they didn’t recognise the name, have heard of a neighbouring world that had been stripped of magic in the last five to ten cycles.

  Those people must be far away, as she was sensing only distant, vague thoughts. She sought magic again, seeking a current in it. Magic tended to flow away from the source of its creation: people. Scanning the horizon, she sensed a slow but steady drift from the direction of the giant tree’s source.

  She took a couple of deep breaths, then held in the last one and pushed out of the world. Propelling herself sideways, she skimmed just outside the world. Two other major trunks of the plant were visible now, and in the distance they joined to form a thicker one. But not long after they joined, the enormous plant came to an abrupt and shocking end.

  Blackened vegetation continued in ghostly traces of the dead plant for a few hundred paces, then a monochromatic patchwork of fields removed all trace. Smoke arose from an area of the forest to her left. Changing direction to inspect this, Rielle found a line of fire eating away at the vegetation, watched over by the tiny forms of distant humans holding torches.

  A sadness crept over her as she hovered. Another natural wonder was slowly being destroyed to make way for crops. She had seen it countless times. People must eat, but often they did not anticipate the consequences of turning wild land to domestication. When living systems that had developed over countless millennia were broken, the land soon became depleted of fertility. Would the soil here sustain the population for long without the plant, or be a wasteland in a few generations?

  She turned her attention to the fields. They formed a grid-like pattern very different to that of the plant. Mud from the fields had been dredged to the edges of each to form a dry ridge. Tracks followed the crest of each ridge, allowing passage for both people and domestic animals. These joined and grew broader to allow more traffic wherever they headed towards clusters of buildings on higher ground. These groups of buildings grew larger as she followed the ever-widening thoroughfares. Signs of greater human interference appeared. Channels directed water to small rectangular lakes, allowing areas of dry-land crops. Other roads in the distance zigzagged nearer to the one she followed, some joining with it, some leading to the same destination: a hill smothered in roofs and walls and streets.

  This city was made up of circular buildings, each crowned by a domed roof topped with a spire. Some of the buildings were linked by straight walls, forming a courtyard between them. At the top of the hill, rising from a cluster of many small linked towers, rose an enormous gold dome that gleamed brightly in the sunlight. It matched exactly the description of the city Baluka’s directions indicated she would find at her destination in Telemna-vo.

  Rielle emerged into the world to breathe. If this was Telemna-vo, why would Baluka ask her to create magic in a world that already contained it?

  Have the Telemnans found some other way to strengthen their world since they made the arrangement with Baluka? she wondered. Perhaps another Maker of unusually strong ability had been born or had visited from another world. That thought brought a mild, unexpected pang of jealousy, followed by a stronger and more sensible hope. To share the burden of restoring worlds would be a great relief.

  This other Maker might not want to work for the Restorers, however. They might have been a friend of Valhan or prefer to work independently. Rielle’s ability helped the Restorers gain the gratitude and loyalty of worlds, keep alliances and maintain peace. Another Maker could weaken these links and efforts, or even give strength to worlds that became enemies of the Restorers.

  Rielle pushed aside a feeling of foreboding. The chance that two Makers of her strength had emerged in the same era was slim. More likely, the Telemnans thought their world was in a weaker condition than it was. With a sigh, she descended towards the city and sought the hexagonal building within which Baluka had said she would meet the world’s most powerful sorcerers. It was at exactly the location she’d been given. A few men and women were present in the courtyard, some sitting on benches, others walking across the space. All wore long, many-layered robes, each layer a slightly lighter shade than the one beneath, and the darkest extending to closely cover their heads. The effect was conveniently similar to her simple shift and head scarf, so she did not need to adjust her appearance to avoid seeming oddly or improperly dressed to the locals.

  She descended into the courtyard. The people noticed her shadow and stopped whatever they were doing to stare at her. When she arrived, they did not approach, and she read from their minds that they were waiting for someone of appropriate status to greet the visitor.

  After a long moment a tall man with unruly white hair emerged from a door and approached her. From him she read that he had been told to expect a woman sorcerer of her description to visit.

  “Welcome to Ka, Rielle the Maker,” he said in hesitant Traveller tongue.

  “It is an honour to my soul to be here,” she replied in Telemnan, reading the traditional response of his people from his mind. Several more phrases were exchanged, and she curbed her impatience even as she perceived that he was using the shorter Telemnan ceremony of greeting.

  “You will find Oier, Head Sorcerer, in the fire tower,” he told her. “Ascend to the top. He awaits you.” Turning, he gestured gracefully to a red-painted door in one of the five towers. Rielle pressed her palms together in thanks, then touched her forehead to indicate she understood.

  “I will walk the way with gratitude,” she replied.

  He remained where he was and watched as she approached the door. She placed a hand on the fire symbol painted on the door, then stepped inside, sensing his relief that she had seen their custom in his mind. To not acknowledge the fire spirit would be to invite bad luck to this place, perhaps to the whole city.

  Inside the tower, all was illuminated by red light filtering through small stained-glass windows. She made her way up a narrow, curved stair that hugged the wall and arrived at the open door of a room with larger, clear windows facing out towards the city. Setting down her pack, she patiently followed the longer ritual of greeting with a man who seemed surprisingly young for the leader of a guild of sorcery. Oier was barely older than she had been when she had left her home world. The Sorcerers’ Guild chose their leaders by strength, she read, so each year there was the potential for a new leader to emerge from the graduates of schools around the world. To maintain stability, most decisions were made by vote in a council of masters.

  By the time the welcoming ritual was over, Rielle had found answers to most of her questions from the Head Sorcerer’s mind. This was, indeed, the world that had appealed to Baluka for restoration. It was not a dead world but had grown dramatically weaker in the recent past. Several reasons had been considered for the weakening, but none had been proven. Most Telemnans blamed the neighbouring world, Woperi.

  “Why would the Peri take magic from your world?” she asked.

  “We have been caught up in a feud for many years,” Oier admitted, “after they brought a plant into this world knowing it would spread rapidly and render much of our land unusable. You may have seen it, not too far outside this city.”

  “I did. So Telemna-vo retaliated?”

  “Yes. Our sorcerers bred and released an insect into the other world that would ruin their crops. They then struck back by introducing a disease that blinded a species of domesticated animals we eat.” He spread his hands in a gesture of futility and acceptance. “We have continued this battle for over seventy cycles.
It has brought famine and poverty to both worlds, though no attack has ever been directed at people, and neither side has marred the sanctity of magic by using it for warfare.”

  She frowned. “You do not consider famine and poverty an attack on people?”

  He grimaced. “Not a direct attack.”

  Resisting the urge to sigh, she nudged the subject back to what she needed to know. “Would stripping magic from this world be considered a direct attack?”

  “No.”

  “Is removing magic harming its sanctity?”

  He hesitated. “That depends whether it is then being used for warfare.”

  “And if it was?”

  His expression darkened. “Then we are free to respond like for like.”

  Magical warfare. Now she didn’t resist a sigh. They had no proof the weakening was an attack by the Peri, and thankfully they were reluctant enough to begin a war to be very careful of confirming such an offence.

  “Why did you ask for your world to be restored?”

  Oier looked confused. “To make us strong again.”

  “But if this weakening continues, you will lose all that I give you again within a few years. Would it not be better to discover the cause first?”

  He nodded. “I would rather we did, but I was outvoted on the matter. Many of us do not want to know the truth.”

  In case it was an attack by the Peri. The council’s reluctance to go to war would be admirable, if it wasn’t as foolish as this feud was to begin with. Oier was frustrated. Battle training was not taught in Telemna-vo. Their enemy had the same belief about the sanctity of magic and were not warriors either. Oier feared that if this had changed in Woperi, his people would need to adapt quickly. Either way, to have any chance of surviving a magical attack, they needed a world strong in magic.

  She considered him carefully. “I restore dead worlds, not half-depleted ones,” she told him. “I am a Maker, not a negotiator or problem fixer.”

  He winced and nodded.

  Rielle looked away so he would not think her frown was directed at him. Baluka should not have sent her here. Either he had done so knowing the world wasn’t depleted, or the Sorcerers’ Guild had deceived him – which they could only do by sending someone to the Restorers to ask for help who believed this world was weaker than it was.

  If the former, why would Baluka send her here? Did he want her to find the cause of the weakening? Did he expect her to deal with what she found? His request that she strip worlds had made her wary. Is he trying to persuade me to get more involved in the decision-making behind restoring worlds? To shoulder some of the burden of controlling them?

  The possibility set anger simmering within her. She ought to leave and confront Baluka. She ought to refuse this world’s request for magic. Too many dead worlds still waited for help, isolated and empty of magic, to justify her getting involved in this local problem. Strengthening Telemna-vo was a waste of her ability.

  And yet she found she could not tell this young man she wouldn’t help him. Not without giving him, and his people, a chance to avoid the magical warfare they feared.

  “Would it help if I demanded you send sorcerers to seek the reason for the weakening before I restored this world?”

  He nodded. “Not many of us are capable of travelling between worlds, however.”

  Which they would need to be, to cover distances quickly. “A few is better than none. What of the messenger you sent to the Restorers?”

  “Our strongest member. Do you want her to search again?”

  Rielle shook her head. “No. Send her to me. I need her to take the Restorers a message. While she is gone, I suggest your guild begin negotiations with the Peri to end this foolish cycle of revenge. Tell them I am here to strengthen your world. Tell them if they refuse to negotiate, I will not restore their world if it is depleted again.” She sighed. “It is likely I will have to stay until Baluka’s reply to my message arrives, so I will need accommodation also.”

  As she spoke, Oier had cringed a little at the thought of ordering the guild sorcerers about, then relaxed as he realised he could truly tell them he had no choice. Then his eyes widened with fear as he understood that his world and the next were going to confront each other directly. Only in negotiations for now, but that could as easily lead to war. He tried to gather his thoughts enough to begin the elaborate ritual for welcoming a guest who will be staying in someone’s house, but she raised a hand to stop him.

  “Forgive me, but I do not have the time for formalities,” she told him. “As soon as I dispatch my messenger, I will be leaving.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To start my own investigations in Woperi.”

  He pressed his palms to his chest in respect. “I thank you on behalf of Telemna-vo. Please enjoy the comforts of this room while I make the arrangements.”

  Then he hurried away. As the sound of his footsteps echoed from the stairwell, Rielle looked around. The room was furnished both as a space to meet visitors and as a place to work. Shelves lined the walls, and both books and objects filled them. She picked up her pack, moved to one of the chairs facing Oier’s desk and sat down.

  Hopefully their messenger could travel fast. The longer they took to reach Baluka and return, the greater the chance her visit to Qall would be delayed. She considered the distance from Telemna-vo to Affen, the Restorers’ home world. If their messenger was likely to travel slowly, she could give the woman directions to a closer Restorers’ outpost, with a request for a faster messenger to continue on to Baluka.

  But she wanted to be sure Baluka received her message, and the only way to do that was for the Telemnan messenger to meet him personally. Then, when they returned, she would see Baluka’s response in the messenger’s memory, and perhaps see a hint of his true intentions.

  She would go herself, but after she had investigated the situation in Woperi, she wanted to seek the reason for the weakening of this world. It might be something simple and easily resolved. Perhaps it didn’t have anything to do with the Peri. Perhaps an otherworld sorcerer had taken up residence in Telemna-vo and was attempting to learn pattern-shifting.

  Whatever the reason, I’ll hand the task of dealing with it to Baluka. It’s not my place to interfere in the politics of worlds. She had already involved herself more than she ought to by demanding these worlds begin negotiations. I will do no more, she decided. My failed negotiations in Doum and Murai taught me that no matter how powerful I am, I don’t have the expertise or knowledge to be a negotiator. I can so easily do harm when I think I have done good. Baluka has thousands of generals and experts to call upon for advice.

  And she was not going to be tricked into doing Baluka’s job for him. As Tarren had said, she was the Maker. Not the Negotiator, or the Warrior, or the World Problem Fixer. Crossing her arms, she scowled at the doorway, only to find a young woman staring back at her.

  Leaping to her feet, Rielle managed to smile, and invited the messenger into the room.

  CHAPTER 5

  Baluka had once told her it was easier to deal with a world if all or most of the people in it were united under one form of leadership and administration. That made negotiating peace simpler, and punishing the culprits if agreements were broken more effective. Worlds that were considered unified were not as rare as Rielle had expected, partly because they were considered so even if some of the people within were in rebellion against the leadership. Since the usual way a world became unified was by one country or empire conquering the rest, some sort of resistance always existed, but ultimately nothing convinced enemies within a world to cooperate with each other like an external threat.

  Unfortunately, Woperi was not a united world. Most of the humans populating it didn’t even call it “Woperi” – which meant “good soil” in the language of the Peri, the country that had started the cycle of revenge with Telemna-vo. The non-Peri occupants Rielle had seen so far lived a basic tribal existence on land dominated by gigan
tic plants like the one she had seen on arrival in the neighbouring world. The Peri were the most sophisticated of the peoples she had found.

  Their laws ensured that the growth and removal of the giant plants were controlled. Areas were cleared for crops, the wood put to good use, then allowed to go wild again when the soil’s nutrients were depleted. This had made the Peri prosperous, giving them time to spend on activities other than meeting their basic needs. They had a society of sorcerers that had, perhaps ironically, been founded by a woman from Telemna-vo centuries before.

  Rielle had learned this and much more by skimming minds while sitting on a ridge outside the main city. She didn’t want to meet the locals. They might assume she was there to help them against the Telemnans. It was up to the Telemnans to make contact and seek peace with the Peri. She was not here to play negotiator.

  The local sorcerers had their Telemnan counterparts on their mind a great deal at the moment. Partly this was because the Telemnan sorcerers had begun negotiations, but also because the Peri suspected their neighbours of stealing magic from their world. They’d been more active in seeking the source of their world’s weakening than had the Telemnans, but all but two of their sorcerers were too weak for world travelling, so their investigations involved long journeys through the plant-tangled wilds.

  Rielle had spent each day since her arrival in Woperi looking for the place from which the magic had been taken, then returning to spy on the evening meetings of the Peri sorcerers. She’d barely slept, frustration keeping her awake when she did attempt to rest. Better to spend that time searching, she reasoned, so her responsibilities would be taken care of as soon as possible. Now, as twin moons rose over the forest and the latest meeting was called to an end, she stood, shouldered her pack, drew in a deep breath and began skimming across the world.

  Each time she’d explored Woperi, she’d travelled in a different direction. The previous day she’d skimmed over an ocean and arrived in a continent too dry to support the enormous plants. To her surprise, the third city she’d found was familiar, and she realised she had visited this world a few cycles ago on their way to another. The sorcerers here had also noticed a lessening of magic recently, and were deliberating whether to contact the Restorers. They, like her, suspected an otherworld sorcerer had tried to become ageless in their world. Rielle had wondered if the Peri sorcerers were imagining the depletion of their world, but now she knew it to be true. Their world had been strong during her last visit, and it would take considerable sorcerous activity to reduce it to the current level.