Thief’s Magic (30 page)

“Can we help you?” spoke a voice behind him.

He turned to see a pair of women his father’s age standing behind him. From their dress he guessed they were at the wealthier end of the middle class. He groaned inwardly as they gave him the indulgent smiles mothers bestowed on those who reminded them of their own sons. His own mother having died when he was a child, he was never completely sure how to deal with this kind of attention.

“You are new to town, I’m guessing,” the taller woman said. “Perhaps a visitor. Where are you heading? These one-seater drivers aren’t to be trusted, you know. They’ll take you the long route and charge you five times as much.”

Tyen felt a flash of inspiration. Perhaps a pair of overly helpful local women was exactly what he needed.

“Well, yes,” he said. “I don’t know my way around and I have a job interview in an hour. Could you advise me where I might buy a decent pair of hard-wearing shoes?”

The shorter woman shook her head. “The best shopping is over on the Parade, but the closest…” She paused to exchange a look with her companion, who pointed across the road.

“There are shops over at the airpark.”

“We’ll take you there. We have time.”

They ignored his weak protestations and were soon guiding him across the road and into a grand new building that bordered one side of the airpark. He realised his mistake as soon as they entered. The clothing on offer was designed for aircarriage passengers who had an hour or two to fill before their flight continued on to Leratia. While pre-made rather than tailored, air travellers were wealthy and the prices and styles reflected that. Aircarriage tickets were out of the reach of factory workers. They were generally out of the reach of most Academy students, too.

That thought gave him an idea. An option that might solve all of his current problems.

A half-hour had barely passed before he had changed into a fine new woollen suit, new shoes and hat. His old clothes were stowed in the pogbag and while the clerk’s attention had been elsewhere he’d quickly transferred Kilraker’s money to a new leather satchel along with Vella and Beetle. After thanking the two helpful women by paying for their fare home, he returned to the airpark to buy a ticket. Having a quarter of an hour until boarding, he made use of the services of a barber who had set up shop by the ticket office to service customers wanting to arrive in Barral or Leratia looking their best.

His pulse raced with both fear and anticipation. He’d never travelled in an aircarriage before and it gave him a buzz of satisfaction to be doing so at Kilraker’s expense. Unlike the professor’s aircart, the chassis of the aircarriage was large enough for several passengers to travel inside, protected from the cold air. Single seats ran along each side with an aisle between them. Tyen tried to hide his excitement as he stepped aboard and was led to his seat by an usher. He was the last passenger to arrive so he was directed to a seat not far from the back.

Soon he felt a swooping sensation as the tethers were released and the aircarriage gently rose into the sky. Looking out of the window by his seat, down through the glass roof of the station, Tyen saw that another railsled had arrived and passengers were spilling out into the street. One of the distant figures stopped to look around. It was impossible to recognise anyone at that distance, but Tyen could not help imagining it was Kilraker. Another figure walked over to meet it, then both turned to regard the one-seaters arriving to carry passengers away.

Or are they looking beyond, to the airpark
, Tyen thought. The whirr of the propellers grew louder as the driver set them spinning faster. As the aircarriage turned to face the south, the station passed out of Tyen’s view. He turned away from the window and leaned back in his seat, hoping he looked more relaxed than he felt.

I
was only worried about where we would go, not whether we’d have trouble getting out of Leratia
, Tyen confessed.

At least that is no longer a problem.

We’ll reach Wendland by midnight.

Will the Academy have people there waiting for you?

Probably. They have contacts there, and the treaty between our countries states they must detain any criminals and send them home.

But you think they won’t expect you to arrive by aircarriage.

No message the Academy sends can arrive before us, as it would have to go by sea or an aircarriage following this one. It is a good thing Leratia is an island. If we were connected by rail I’d have no hope of outrunning a message, or the distribution of the
Leratian Daily
.

You think the picture in the
Leratian Daily
doesn’t look much like you, too.

It does a little, but I look like most other young Leratian men my age. For once, having an average, unremarkable appearance is to my advantage. I wonder how many young men are going to be approached or avoided in case they are dangerous sorcerers because of me. I hope none will be treated badly as a result.

He sighed. How much effort would the Academy expend in finding him? Would there be a point at which the time and expense of searching were not worth finding a mere ex-student and a book they never wanted to keep in the first place?

A great deal of effort, considering the secrets I contain about them.

Tyen felt a chill run down his spine.

They’re that bad?

The professors thought so. In other times and other places these matters would have been considered petty and unimportant, but in this time and place people take such things more seriously.

Don’t tell me anything.

I will not be able to stop myself, if you ask a question to which the answer reveals their secrets.

Then … warn me before answering, so I can look away.

You are concerned that, if you learn their secrets, they will never allow you to resume your old life even if you prove your innocence?

Yes.

Yet I think you also know that they will not believe you, if you tell them you never discovered their secrets from me.

Tyen bit back a curse. She was right. But that meant … His skin prickled. He was in a worse position than he had realised. They were willing to destroy Vella to hide their secrets even if it meant losing a valuable magical artefact. He wasn’t valuable.

But theft wasn’t a great enough charge to warrant execution. Unless Kilraker set him up for someone else’s death. Or the Academy persuaded the Emperor to charge Tyen with treason.

No, surely they wouldn’t go that far.
But whatever they did, they’d want him unable to communicate their secrets to anyone, and that probably meant prison at the very least.

I can never go back
, he thought.

Not if you wish to avoid that fate
, Vella agreed.

Tyen’s chest contracted painfully and for a second he couldn’t breathe. He was suddenly conscious of the other passengers. Forcing himself to relax and inhale slowly, he surveyed the passengers nearby from the corner of his eye. His blood ran cold as he realised the man across the aisle appeared to be looking his way. Had his agitation attracted the man’s attention?

Not wanting to turn and meet the stranger’s eyes, he looked up at the window instead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man in its reflection. Sure enough, he could see the man sitting on the other side of the aisle. And immediately they locked gazes.

The man’s eyes dropped to the folded paper on his lap.

Tyen’s heart froze, but when he looked closer he was relieved to see the paper was not the
Leratian Daily
. From the images and headlines about aircart racing, it looked like a sporting paper.

If I can see his reading material, can he see mine?

He looked at the reflection of Vella, her words reversed in the ghostly mirror copy. He’d thought it safe to read her because there was nobody behind him to catch sight of her over his shoulder, never thinking that she might be visible in other ways.

Sorry, Vella.
Closing her, he slipped her into the pocket of his jacket and pretended to gaze out of the window. The other man glanced his way a few more times, but mostly he remained immersed in his paper.

The next few hours passed slowly. Tyen watched the shadows far below lengthen as the sun dipped slowly towards the horizon. Darkness finally shrouded all but the lonely windows of farmsteads lit from within or the clustered lights where villages lay. With so many people filling the narrow chassis of the aircarriage the air stayed warm, though a slight draught indicated a ventilation system that ensured the air remained fresh. A conversation between two passengers in the seats in front sounded oddly muffled, but he guessed that was because he’d grown used to the noise of the propellers.

Eventually a bigger cluster of lights appeared directly ahead of the aircarriage. Beyond it was an expanse of darkness, mostly free of lights. This, he guessed, was the sea. He watched it draw slowly closer, anticipating the moment they left the coast and his homeland.

When the propeller noise abruptly lessened he and the other passengers looked up and around in surprise. The usher started down the aisle from the front.

“We’re making an unscheduled stop at Sacal Bay,” he told them.

Tyen’s stomach plunged far below the aircarriage.

“Why?” one of the passengers demanded.

“We don’t know yet.” The usher shrugged. “The signal lights are limited in what they can communicate.”

“Will we be delayed long?”

“We won’t know until we learn the reason we are stopping.”

“Can we get off?”

“Yes, but stay close to the aircarriage. We don’t want to be delayed any longer than necessary.”

Tyen drew in a deep breath and let it out, trying to steady his nerves so that he could think clearly. The sensation of his heart beating too fast was growing far too familiar. He wished he could confer with Vella, but he dared not risk it.

I hope the usher is telling the truth about not knowing the reason
, he thought.
If he knew a wanted man was among the passengers surely he would insist we all stay on board.

But it would make no difference, if the police were waiting when the aircarriage arrived. Tyen would be trapped. Unless … hadn’t he noticed a door at the back when he boarded?

“Are you well?”

Tyen started as he realised the usher was leaning over him. He met the man’s gaze then quickly looked away.

“Um…”

“Perhaps a little airsickness? Don’t worry, it happens to a lot of people.” The young man reached into his pocket and brought out a folded piece of brown paper. “Here. Just in case.”

As the usher continued past, Tyen examined the gift. Unfolding it, he saw with amusement that it was a bag, the inner surface coated with a glossy varnish. To avoid a mess if he happened to throw up, he guessed.

He looked back down the aisle past the usher, who was doing something at the end of the chassis. There
was
another door, with a large sign reading “Service Employees Only”. Turning away, Tyen looked down at the bag and realised he had the beginnings of an escape plan. A desperate one, but that was better than no plan at all.

The aircarriage descended so gradually towards Sacal Bay that Tyen began to wonder if the driver was deliberately torturing him. He badly wanted to hear the usher announce that the signal had changed, or had been misread, and they were heading straight to Wendland after all, but if they were going to land, he wanted to get it over and done with. As they drifted over the town he tried to memorise the lie of the land. The airpark was brightly lit, drawing the eye and making the surrounds seem darker. From the pattern of street lamps and house lights he could see that the town was a crescent shape, curving around the bay. The streets followed the same arc. Even from the air he could see that the land sloped steeply down to the water except at the centre of the town, where the scant level space had been reserved for the airpark and a small open public space. Connecting streets were not square to the main roads but angled to reduce the steepness of the descent for vehicles, while staircases cut a more direct path for pedestrians. The houses were almost like staircases themselves, each peering over its neighbour below. It would look pretty from the sea, Tyen guessed.

At last the aircarriage pulled up above the airpark loading bay, hovering as if having second thoughts. The usher hurried to the rear again and Tyen heard the sound of hatches opening and cables unravelling. A shudder went through the chassis as the cables were snagged, then it vibrated as it was cranked into position. As the roof of the loading bay passed Tyen’s window he caught a glimpse of a small number of people waiting. Most were aircarriage staff waiting to welcome the passengers, but the rest wore the uniform of the police.

Tyen sagged forward, clutching the paper bag and keeping out of sight of the window. As the aircarriage settled into place and the rest of the passengers rose, he turned away from the window. He gathered his satchel and pogbag, then leaned his shoulder against the back of the seat, a hand pressed to his forehead.

The usher hurried to his side. “Are you unwell?”

Tyen nodded. “I need some air,” he said.

The young man grimaced in sympathy. “Hold on there. You’ll be out soon.”

Tyen looked beyond him. “Does that open?”

The usher glanced at the door and pursed his lips.

Puffing out his cheeks, Tyen cast about, satchel and paper bag caught in one hand and pogbag in the other. He let the paper bag slip from his fingers.

“Yes, yes, come this way,” the usher said. He beckoned and turned to the service door. “Go down the stairs. If anyone asks why you’re there tell them Dila Nailer sent you. The men’s room is to the right, down the passage.”

“Thank you,” Tyen gasped, then closed his mouth and gulped as he passed. The door opened onto an open metal framework that gave access to the aircart for the workers who serviced the aircarriage. He stepped out onto a platform. A narrow set of stairs spiralled down the little tower, taking him under the loading bay and out of sight of the police above. And of the usher. He took in his surroundings quickly. It was an area for the workers who tethered and serviced the aircarriages, and it was empty but for five men leaning against a wall nearby. They watched him hurry down the stairs, but didn’t appear concerned.