Maker's Curse Read online

  Hastening past, she dropped through the floor – this time of stone – and entered what ought to be Qall’s cell. Uniform greyness surrounded her, but she made out a stirring of movement. She could not make out any detail, so she drew nearer to the world. It was a priest, pacing the room. As he turned, he faced in her direction. And stopped. And started walking towards her. She looked around and saw nobody else in the room.

  Whoever he is, he’s seen me. I may as well see who it is.

  His face grew more distinct as she came even closer into the world, and at last she recognised it. She pushed herself the last distance back into the world in a rush.

  “Qall,” she gasped, then sucked in a deep breath as an urgency in her chest told her she’d spent a little too long in the place between worlds.

  “Rielle,” he said in a low murmur, catching her shoulders as she swayed. When she had caught her balance and her breath, he let her go. “Are you all right? You’re a bit overdue.”

  She frowned at him. Why did it seem like everyone was pointing that out lately? “Yes,” she replied as quietly. “Sorry about that. You did tell me last time that you would probably stay more than another cycle.”

  He nodded and shrugged. “I did but, well… circumstances changed. Things became a bit complicated.”

  “So it appears.” It was always strange, seeing him in the priestly robes of her home world. But then, she felt stranger wearing the priest’s underrobe Sa-Mica had given her, pointing out that her travel-stained clothes were hardly appropriate for an Angel. Though it did not look like priests’ robes, especially as it was much too large for her and she hadn’t belted it, she could not shake the feeling she was breaking some kind of taboo.

  She thought of Gere then. Complications, indeed. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “I am.” He sighed and looked away. “Yes, it is time.”

  “What of the tests we talked of?”

  He pursed his lips. “I’ll leave that to your judgement. Either way, we can’t leave here straight away. There are matters I should… settle…” He looked towards the doorway, from which voices could be heard. “Is there someone outside?”

  She moved to the opening and peered out. Sa-Mica stood nearby, talking sternly to a younger priest. Drawing a little magic, she stilled the air in the doorway to help muffle her and Qall’s conversation.

  “Sa-Mica and the guard,” she said, returning to Qall. “I’ve shielded us against sound. What matters do you need to settle?”

  He smiled crookedly. “For a start, there’s someone who will pay dearly if I don’t leave this world on good terms with the priesthood.”

  “Gere?”

  His eyebrows rose a fraction. “You met him?”

  “No, I read his mind.”

  “So you understand why I can’t just leave.” His smile vanished. “We must convince the Voice that I am an Angel and Gere has done no wrong.”

  “I’ve already told Sa-Mica you are an Angel.” But that wouldn’t be enough, she realised. “But if he tells the Voice he has changed his mind, he’ll need proof.”

  “If you restored this world, it would convince him.”

  Wrapping her arms around her body, she considered the idea. “Changing a world so dramatically usually causes chaos.”

  “Of course it does. I would be surprised if it didn’t.”

  “We can’t be sure that it will be for the better.”

  “No, but this world has been expecting the return of magic for centuries. The people here will accept the change. They may even adapt more easily than a world that wasn’t expecting one.” Qall’s voice deepened. “Are you sure you aren’t hesitating for personal reasons?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you mean?”

  “This world was not kind to you. Do you still hold a grudge?” His expression did not hold any of the glint of curiosity or sympathy she had seen when they had discussed the possibility before. He was serious. His tone was urgent, and not just because Sa-Mica might lose the guard’s attention at any moment. “Did you visit your parents, as I suggested?”

  “No.” The word came out flat and louder than she’d intended, and they both paused to look towards the doorway. When no guard appeared, she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have no desire to, but I did wish to see my aunt again.” She paused and managed a smile. “Thank you for sending her to Fyre to meet me.”

  His shoulders rose and fell, but his expression did not soften. She looked away again.

  “I’d rather not see my parents, Qall. It would too easily influence whether I decided to restore this world or not.”

  “I am the one deciding, remember?”

  She turned to find him smiling, a familiar amusement in his gaze. She resisted the urge to smile in reply and shook her head. “This is no game, Qall. Don’t subject my world to a change that may ruin it for the sake of winning an argument.”

  He grew serious again. As they stared at each other, she took in his appearance properly. He was thinner, which made him resemble Valhan even more. Yet her mind no longer saw Valhan first then Qall second. He was the young man she had saved and who the Travellers had raised. Is that test enough? She frowned. Probably not.

  “You don’t have to restore the world much,” Qall said. “Just enough to impress the priests.”

  She looked down as she considered it, then nodded. “That might work.” Then she smiled. “It’s a compromise, anyway.”

  “One you’re willing to make?” he reminded her.

  She nodded, and was surprised at the relief she felt. Sometimes when it was not clear which decision was right, any decision felt good. “What exactly are we going to say and do?”

  “I’ve had plenty of time to think about that.” Qall smiled. “What do you think of this…?”

  A little while later, Rielle set the air around herself aglow with radiating lines of light, as the Angels were depicted in paintings. She pushed away a mild discomfort, reminding herself that the original Angels had probably been sorcerers, so what she was going to claim to be wasn’t that great a lie, and stepped into the hall, followed by Qall. The guard spun around and froze, staring at her.

  “Take Sa-Kal to the Voice of the Angels,” she ordered. Then she turned to Qall. “I will see you there, brother.” He bowed his head.

  Pushing out of the world, she skimmed away, back to the administrative building where she had previously encountered the Voice’s mind. She found the man pacing in a large room. The only furniture was several grandly carved chairs set in an arc, the largest at the apex. Several other priests milled about in groups of two to five. As she arrived in their midst, she set the air glowing again and let magic spill out into the room. Startled, the priests backed away a few steps, eyes wide with astonishment and fear.

  The Voice had frozen, his upper body facing her and his lower caught midstep. She turned to face him.

  “Arennel Vascine,” she said, addressing him by name. “I am Rielle. I come to you on behalf of my brother, Qall, who you know as Sa-Kal.”

  He drew himself up with visible effort, then bowed. “We are honoured by your presence, Rielle Lazuli.”

  At once, the other priests dropped to their knees, their backs bending as they bowed to the floor.

  “I am known only as Rielle now,” she corrected him gently, then lifted her chin a little. “Rise, faithful servants.” The priests hurried to obey. Rielle ignored all but the Voice. “Qall was sent to this world to judge whether it is time for us to restore it,” she told him. He winced. She paused, examining the faces of the other priests in the room. All showed guilt and fear in some measure, and a grim acceptance. A good sign. They would accept Qall’s holiness and judgement without question.

  Not even the sound of breathing eased the silence. She set her gaze back upon the Voice.

  “When he arrives, he will deliver his judgement.”

  He bowed again. “We will accept his judgement.”

  Lowering her eyes, s
he waited, motionless. The rest did not move, not even the Voice, who swayed a little towards the larger chair as if he longed for the reassurance of its sturdy majesty. Time lengthened and stretched, no doubt more agonising to them than her.

  At last faint footsteps reached her ears. They grew louder, as did voices rising in argument. Rielle turned to face the doors, then sent them swinging open with magic. To her relief, Qall and Sa-Mica were striding towards the room, closely followed by several other priests.

  Those priests now skidded to a halt as they saw Rielle. The first of them threw themselves onto their knees. The others quickly followed. She had to resist a smile as Sa-Mica and Qall strode with a grand dignity into the room. Sa-Mica stopped before her and knelt.

  “I have brought him, as you requested, Rielle,” he said.

  Excellent. Now they know he was acting on my orders.

  She walked towards them. “Thank you, my old friend,” she said quietly, briefly placing a hand on his head, but keeping her gaze on Qall. “Well, brother. Are you sure of your decision?”

  Qall nodded gravely. “I am.” He stepped forward and turned to the Voice. “I have decided that this world must be restored,” he said. “But…” – the collective sigh that followed the news was cut short by the word – “… only a small measure of magic will be restored. While I have seen an abhorrence of war in the hearts of humans, and I am reassured that the atrocities my predecessor found here are no longer tolerated, there is still much that disappointed me. I saw too much corruption, hate and harm and too little truth, love and healing. I hope that when one of us visits this world again it will be worthy of full restoration, not one in which the gift we bestowed has been used for ill deeds.”

  The standing priests and their Voice bowed.

  “We accept your judgement,” the Voice said. “We are humbled by it, and by your faith in us. We thank you, and all the Angels, for your gift, and promise to only do good and kind deeds with magic.”

  Good luck with that, Rielle thought, then reminded herself that good intentions that failed some of the time were always better than accepting and embracing the dark side of human nature. The priests of her world might have succumbed to corruption in the past, but at least most tried to benefit people and this world. Am I actually softening up towards them? Enough to forgive them for what they did, and intended to do, to me?

  Qall had accepted the Voice’s promise with a nod. He now turned to her. “That is my decision,” he told her.

  Which meant she must now generate magic. She had tucked a sheaf of paper and a drawing stick into a pocket of her dress, but drawing seemed too earthly an activity for an Angel in this moment. After hundreds of years waiting for the Angels to return and restore the world, something more dramatic was needed. Something visually spectacular. Something ethereal. But… what?

  Light, she thought. Movement. An idea sprang into her mind, and she caught her breath. Oh, I can do spectacular. I can do it very well.

  Drawing magic, she set a tiny point of air before her vibrating so fast it became a spark of light. She created another, and another, forming an arc. This she moved to form a crown about her head. With a push of her will, she sent the sparks flying outwards, and as they did so they left trails of light – in radiating lines like those in paintings of Angels. Letting them fade, she set another crown glowing and pulsing outwards, then another.

  The priests backed away, spreading out so they formed an arc that reflected the arrangement of the chairs. The Voice drifted to his seat and dropped into it as if he’d lost all strength, his face caught in the same expression of rapt astonishment as had come over the others.

  Now Rielle sent the sparks spiralling and twisting around her and Qall, creating increasingly beautiful and elaborate patterns. They were so bright they left ghostly after-images seared into her sight. She kept the sparks swirling around as she opened her senses to the magic of the world. Power infused the space around them and was flowing outwards in a great spherical wave. The minds of priests through the temple became readable as it spread, and she realised there were thousands of them here.

  Yet, as always, she became aware of an absence where her eyes told her a person stood: Qall. He wore a look of wonder and amusement. The latter, strangely, reminded her of Valhan, and suddenly she realised her error.

  He could now take all this magic and escape the world.

  She hadn’t tested him yet. There was no time to consider how. The only way she knew was the most obvious, least gentle one. However, if he opened his mind to her now, the priests might see into it and learn the truth.

  Or would they? Seeking out their thoughts, she saw that they were drinking in the spectacle, entranced by her lights; knowing this opportunity to see the work of an Angel was rare, they felt they must see and memorise all of it. As long as nothing distracted them, none would notice that they could read Qall’s mind, especially as they weren’t used to reading minds. It might not even occur to them to try, if they did look away from the lights. She met Qall’s gaze.

  Open your mind to me, she commanded.

  His smile vanished. For a second his eyes glinted with resistance, but it quickly faded. His chin dropped into a nod, his shoulders rose and fell in a sigh, and then he dropped his guard.

  His presence appeared to her senses like the sound of a gong. His thoughts, in contrast, were high and melodic, like pipes. What should I think about? he asked himself. Nothing too personal. A memory flash of pale flesh in a candlelit room was quickly suppressed by a deliberate recollection of Vella. It was curious that the book was the first thing his mind grabbed when he wanted to think of something else. But then, Vella also contains all my most personal memories, he thought. There’s a strange kind of balance in that. I had to give all my secrets, such as they are, to Vella in order to take Valhan’s knowledge in. Now I have to do the same to Rielle to prove I didn’t absorb his consciousness as well.

  The thought that Valhan might still lurk within him frightened him, but it was an old fear. He’d never felt another mind within his own in the last five cycles. It was possible the Raen was lurking somewhere in it, waiting for the right moment to emerge. He’d tried to nudge it into waking, but nothing had happened. Perhaps only leaving Rielle’s world would awaken it. Perhaps it was waiting for a particular trigger to surface.

  Relief came to Rielle like the cool desert air of evening. It was not what he was thinking, but the sense of his personality that told her that this was not Valhan pretending to be Qall.

  Is he not lurking somewhere I can’t sense him? Qall asked. He paused, waiting for her to see something in his mind that he couldn’t. Sometimes it’s like I hear him speak in my mind. It only happened when he wondered what Valhan might have thought about something, as if Qall knew what the man would have said in response. He also heard Rielle’s voice in the same circumstances, however.

  Rielle frowned. The only way to be sure the Raen could not return to the world was to keep Qall trapped here, doomed to die of old age. He did not want that. He did not deserve that. If he was willing to risk having his personality overtaken when he left this world, it was his choice to make.

  What do you think? she asked.

  His shoulders rose and fell. I believe I’m me. I don’t want to stay here out of fear that I’m not.

  She nodded. Then we will leave.

  His mind vanished as she turned her attention back to the magic around her. It had lessened as it had spread outwards. Though the sparks were still moving, she was not generating much magic now. She was not creating but repeating a motion. Is it enough yet? she asked Qall silently. His gaze became distracted as he examined the magic, and he nodded.

  She extinguished the sparks. The room looked darker, now that they were gone. The Voice and his priests blinked at her and Qall or stared sightlessly as they sensed the magic surrounding them. Rielle searched their thoughts. They had not read anyone’s minds. Not even the Voice. She decided they need not be addressed again. She’
d had enough of this world. Already. Again.

  She held out a hand to Qall. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded and enclosed her palm in his.

  Drawing some of the newly generated magic, she pushed out of the world. The room faded to grey. She moved first to Sa-Mica’s room, where she had left her pack. Gathering it and another few breaths, she pushed into the place between again.

  “Head north,” Qall said. The words sounded to her like he had spoken them, but his mouth had not moved. Even after all these cycles, the disembodied voices of her companions in the place between worlds still disturbed her. She frowned at him.

  “Why?”

  “We need to fetch Vella. She was taken from me in Dothu.”

  “You didn’t tell me that before!”

  “I didn’t get a chance. We were too busy working out how to convince the Voice that we are Angels. Nice light show, by the way.”

  She ignored the compliment and accompanying grin. If she’d been able to breathe, she’d have sighed. Instead she settled for rolling her eyes.

  “Tyen will never forgive you if anything has happened to her.”

  “I know.”

  “I trust you know where they took her?”

  He nodded. “Head north.”

  Moving up through the building into the shadow of a night sky, she got her bearings and skimmed away.

  CHAPTER 10

  “So,” Rielle said as they began walking up the steep mountain path. “Gere.”

  Qall laughed. “Shocked?”

  “No, just surprised. The last person you were infatuated with was a rich young woman, and before that, a Traveller girl.”

  “Well, I was very young and having someone propose to you is very flattering.”

  “You’re not interested in women, then.”