Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(12)



As Valhan stopped before her, the woman looked up and frowned. Then her eyes went wide. She leapt to her feet and set her bowl aside in one motion, then pressed her hands to her face. Tears filled her eyes. As sound and the touch of warm air surrounded Rielle the woman spoke, and though the words she uttered were incomprehensible, her joy at seeing the Angel was unmistakable.

The Angel replied, and a short conversation followed. Rielle noticed that tiny radiating lines of Stain were appearing around the woman, vanishing so quickly that she thought she’d imagined it the first time. Then the Angel turned to Rielle and let her hand go so that he could gesture towards the woman.

“This is Inekera,” he said in Fyrian. “Ruler of this world. She will bring you to my world when I am sure all is as I left it.” He took a step back and vanished.

Rielle blinked at the empty space where he had stood. If this was not his world… then how many worlds were there? She turned back to Inekera. He’d said she was the ruler of this world. Did that make her a queen? Should I bow?

The woman laughed and beckoned. “Rielle,” she said, then patted the chair. “Sit.”

Obeying, Rielle wondered how the woman knew Fyrian. Then the answer came to her, so obvious she felt foolish. She read my mind, so she must be an Angel, too. No mortal woman could be so beautiful.

Inekera’s smile widened. She pointed at Rielle. “You…” She waved a hand and Rielle detected a flash of Stain. Then her mind detected something else. Something incredible.

“Magic!” she exclaimed, reaching out with her senses. “So much magic!” Energy imbued everything, so rich and condensed she was surprised the air did not glow.

“Yes,” Inekera said. She hesitated, then touched her temple and pointed at Rielle. “You sense,” she instructed. “Now.”

Obeying, Rielle lost all sight of the room as her awareness expanded. To have so much magic within her reach was incredible. And frightening. She could not imagine what could be done with so much of it. How far did it stretch? Was the whole world like this? She looked at the Angel.

“Reach!” Inekera commanded, stretching her arms wide.

Rielle obeyed, her senses flying outwards, unrestrained. She had no idea how far she stretched, only that her awareness flew further than it had ever gone before. Then she reached a place where the magic was weaker. She saw that it had an edge–and a shape.

“Ah!” she said. “It’s curved–like a bowl–no, it’s a hollow dome! Or it could be a sphere I supp…”

Hearing a gasp beside her, she drew her awareness back to the woman beside her. Inekera was staring at her, but her expression changed so quickly that Rielle couldn’t decide if it had been one of astonishment or horror. She decided on the former, as the Angel was smiling warmly now.

Inekera patted Rielle’s knee and pointed at the seat. “Stay here.” She vanished.

Abruptly alone, Rielle took the opportunity to examine her surroundings. The seat was covered in a fur so finely prepared that all of the hairs were the same length. It was dyed a brilliant green. Running fingers over it, she saw that when the hair parted, woven fibres could be seen beneath. It was a fabric, not a fur. Incredible workmanship.

The arms of the chair were gold, but were most likely painted, as it would never have supported its own weight if made of pure metal. The table the Angel had laid her bowl on matched the chair, as did the bowl. She resisted the temptation to lift the vessel to test its weight.

Looking around the room, Rielle took in the luxurious decoration and furniture. Inekera lived well. But what of the other people here? What of the beggars and workers she had seen in the square where she and Valhan had first arrived? So many questions. So much to learn.

I know so little of the Angels’ realm, she realised. Or rather, realms. Clearly, priests’ knowledge of the Angels they worshipped was limited. Or they were not free to tell ordinary people. Perhaps we’re supposed to discover all this when we die. Except she hadn’t died. Or so she assumed. Another question for the Angels.

Valhan had spoken of other artisans in his world. She was not the first to be chosen to work for him. What would their work be like? What would they be like? The best of the best. She would have much to learn.

She shook her head, rose and moved to a window, pushing aside heavy drapes in the same deep green. It was so hard to be patient.

“Rielle.”

Turning, she smiled as she saw that Inekera had returned. She moved back towards the chair, and the woman stepped forward to meet her, holding out her hands.

“Come with me.”

Placing her own hands in the Angel’s, Rielle expected the room to vanish. Instead the house faded a little and they began to slide sideways. They returned to the city, but did not linger long enough for Rielle to see if the beggars were still there. The square faded and another landscape replaced it, then another and another. Images of strange places flickered in and out of sight so quickly she barely had a chance to absorb them.

They also barely stopped long enough for Rielle to take a breath and she began to feel dizzy. It was clear mortals could not breathe when travelling between worlds. At the next stop she quickly sucked in as much as she could.

“I need—” she tried to say, but her words were cut off as the whiteness returned. Speaking was impossible, how could she speak without breath? She looked at Inekera, hoping to communicate her distress in her expression.

Trudi Canavan's Books