Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series, page 30
Then it was just Fenj, and Lorak, and Lula, alone in the crisp mountain air. Lorak was content with the silence. A great affection had grown up between Lady Emla’s irascible old gardener and the Dragon Elder. Lorak sensed a sadness in Fenj now, but also a determination, and he sat on the Dragon’s back calmly, waiting for Fenj to choose his time to speak. Lula had burrowed deep into her sack after her first excited look at the land falling away below had turned to a squeak of horror. Lorak could feel several claws, even through his coat and three shirts.
Fenj flew on, his wing beats regular and powerful. The snow beneath them slowly thinned away and grasslands began. Lorak twisted to look back and was surprised to see how small the mountains appeared already. The sun felt warmer and Lorak turned his face up to its heat.
‘Do you wish to stop, Lorak my friend?’ Fenj’s first words since leaving the Stronghold murmured through Lorak’s mind.
‘Yes!’ Lula cried, before Lorak could answer.
Fenj’s wings ceased their beat and he glided smoothly down in a spiral manoeuvre to settle on this vast stretch of grass land. Lorak dismounted and released the tiny Kephi. She sniffed at the rough grass, then caught sight of her tail out of the corner of her eye. She leapt wildly to catch it and rolled under Fenj’s chest. He rumbled quietly.
‘I think you do not enjoy flying after all then my Lula?’ he asked.
Lula sat up straight and washed her ears briskly.
‘Your mother seemed to love it,’ Fenj added in an innocent tone.
Lorak grinned. Lula’s eyes narrowed.
‘I expect I will soon find it boring,’ she announced.
Fenj’s eyes whirred. ‘Then I shall have to think of something better with which to entertain you.’
Lula studied her huge friend. She was not always sure about the nuances of teasing. She turned her back and prepared to stalk Lorak’s feet. Lorak eventually caught hold of her and put her back in her sack, to the accompaniment of much spitting.
They flew for three days before Fenj sensed Jeela’s mind ahead of them.
‘We are nearly at the place where the Silver Ones have dwelt throughout ages,’ he told Lorak as they sat at midday, watching Lula leaping after emerald butterflies.
‘Aah. Is there something particular we’re going to do there?’ Lorak asked.
Fenj swung his head low to stare closely at Lorak.
‘There may well be. I have spent much thought on the little we know of the thing Thryssa encountered in Gaharn. Her last message from Vagrantia said that another such had been destroyed there and one still threatened her people.’
‘Do you think it were for the best then – that messages don’t go through they old circle things to Vagrantia at the moment?’
Fenj reclined more comfortably and watched Lula dancing through the longer grasses.
‘Whatever it is, it seems stuck there in Vagrantia for now. If it found out how to use the circles, it could go anywhere.’
‘I don’t understand why it be stuck there Fenj.’
‘Because it is inside one of Thryssa’s people.’ Fenj thought for a while. ‘If it came out of that person, it could go wherever it wanted I suppose.’
Lorak frowned, then shook his head.
‘It’s no good, I don’t rightly follow you m’dear.’ He reached into a pocket. ‘Drop of restorative?’
‘Splendid fellow.’
It was nearing midday when Fenj and Lorak saw the five conical shapes clustered on the otherwise empty plains before them. Fenj flew higher until they came directly over the space between two craters. The one on the left, Fenj told Lorak curtly, was Fira Circle, home of the water mages, and which had been taken over by the unknown entity. Past Fira and adjoining that Circle, was Kedara, home of the air mages. The one on the right, was Segra, the Circle of which Lashek was the Speaker. Straight ahead was Parima and beyond Parima lay Talvo. They were too high to be more than flecks of darkness should anyone look up to the sky and conversely, Lorak could make out no details as they over flew Parima.
When Fenj had taken them nearly past Talvo, he began to descend in a spiral. He approached Talvo from its furthest southern side, and crested the rim as Jeela called welcome. When Fenj landed and rattled his wings, Jeela dropped beside him, her ivory neck twining around him. All Lorak could make out was an overwhelming delight pouring from the tiny Dragon as she greeted old Fenj. Fenj’s faceted eyes whirred the shadows on snow colour while he crooned gently to the excited Jeela.
Then Jeela turned to Lorak who was just freeing Lula from her carry sack. Lorak straightened and found himself flat on his back, the small but surprisingly heavy Jeela on his legs, her face close to his.
‘I am so glad to see you Lorak of the Garden. You must tell me everything of the Stronghold. Is Dessi well? I miss her you know. And Ashta? You will tell me all, will you not?’
Lorak spluttered, pushing at Jeela’s chest with both hands.
‘I can tell you nothing while you sit squashing a poor soul so. Get off me, you impudent hatchling.’
Jeela backed away to let Lorak get up to a sitting position while Fenj’s laugh rolled through their minds and Lula pranced across to wind herself around Jeela’s feet.
‘Why do you not look at the plants old friend?’ Fenj suggested. ‘Jeela and I will talk a while, then you can add your news.’
Lorak grunted and clambered to his feet. Jeela’s eyes whirred.
‘I am sorry to have knocked you down Lorak. There are many plants here that I never saw before which will interest you I am sure.’
Lorak scowled. Jeela’s mind tone was not as apologetic as he might have wished, but he turned slowly around, studying the vegetation. It seemed most lush, he noted: creepers rampant along the ground and up the crater side ahead. He sorted out the several packs he had carried and put an empty one over his shoulder. Lula trotted at his heels when he stumped off.
‘Beware the small pools that make popping sounds,’ Jeela called to his mind as he plunged into what looked to him like a forest of gigantic rhubarb plants.
Within moments Lorak was engrossed in the multitude of new plants. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he could draw or even write better than he could. Lady Emla had lent him books from her own library which showed the most detailed pictures of plants, right down to their root systems. Most of the plants here seemed large, as if the warmth and moisture had forced them all to grow without constraint. Poke beneath huge leaves as he might, so far Lorak had found no little things – nothing like his favourite violets. Everything was on a grand scale here. Lula shot between his boots and sat in front of him, her blue eyes wide with alarm above her bristling moustache.
‘Now what?’ Lorak eyed her warily. Fond of her as he was, he regarded her as mischief on four feet.
‘Come and see one of the popping things.’
Lorak frowned. ‘Now don’t you start your tricks young Lula. I be busy.’
‘No, no, no. You must see. It smells a bit strange.’
He knew from past experience that Lula would get in his way, sitting on plants, tripping him up, unless he gave in to her demands. He sighed.
‘Hurry up then. Show me.’
He caught up with Lula to find her crouched beside a muddy circle from which steam rose. He squatted beside the tiny Kephi and stared in surprise as the mud pushed up to form a dome. Another dome appeared, then more. The first one suddenly popped and Lorak clapped his hand over his nose as the acrid stench of rotting eggs engulfed him. Lula sneezed and backed away. Lorak too was stepping away when a thin jet of water erupted from the mud, rising many times Lorak’s height. As he gaped up at it, drops fell on his upturned face causing him to flinch. They were extremely hot drops. He joined Lula some distance back and they watched as the water sputtered, faltered, than vanished again beneath the mud.
‘Well I never did.’ He stooped to pick Lula up.
‘It does it often,’ she told him.
So he waited for a while to see if Lula was correct. He was about to give up when the domes started rising in the mud again. Once more, water gushed skywards and then disappeared.
‘Well I never did,’ he repeated and pushed back through the thick vegetation to where he had left his pack.
He spent the rest of the daylight lifting various plants and studying them closely. Lula sometimes helped him, digging enthusiastically when he was trying to extract a root undamaged. When she grew bored she went hunting and brought him various gifts: an extraordinarily large and annoyed spider, a bright yellow worm, or it may have been a snake – Lorak was not inclined to look too closely.
Jeela appeared above him, saying he should return to Fenj. He could easily fall in one of the strange pools in the twilight, she pointed out helpfully.
‘There are more of they?’ Lorak asked in some alarm.
‘Oh yes. Lots in this part of Talvo.’
‘Lead on then,’ he said, picking up his pack which now bulged with samples.
Stars prickled overhead as he sat with Fenj and Jeela. Lula slept in the curve of Fenj’s arm and Lorak nursed a mug of tea, well laced with restorative.
‘What shall you do with all those plants Lorak?’
‘I thought I’d make a little nursery bed up here tomorrow, and see if they take to being moved. Have you thought of something to do to help they Vagrantians?’
Fenj’s eyes whirred, reflecting the light from Lorak’s small fire as well as the starlight.
‘Well now old friend, I believe I may have an idea about that.’
Teams of the strongest mages, most of whom were Kedarans, had formed and held the shielding continuously since Zloy’s first contact with the High Speaker. The torrential rain had ceased, although water levels in pools and streams still rose steadily. Thryssa had felt the incredible force of Zloy’s rage when he battered against the shielding periodically and she saw with sorrow how often her mages had to change shifts before they collapsed from exhaustion.
She stood at the window of her study gazing at the familiar scene stretching to the distant black wall which separated Parima from Talvo. She was wondering if she dared risk using the circle to get a message to the Stronghold or to Gaharn. Speaker Kallema and first councillor Prilla both knew that the circle in the Corvida was active again, but she did not think that either of them knew how to use it. If Zloy had drained their minds of all relevant information, he would know of the circle but, like the two women, not how to make it work.
Thryssa’s gaze rested on that black rim, behind which dwelt Jeela, alone these past days since Gremara’s sudden departure. Did Zloy fear the Dragons, or disregard them as unimportant? Thryssa rubbed her forehead, then let her hand drop to the comforting oval pendant. She was not entirely sure, but she thought it seemed warmer all the time now. She could not begin to guess what that might mean. She turned from the window frowning. Raised voices were coming closer to her door. Thryssa waited. Stars forfend that there was no new trouble. Lashek opened the door, a huge beam on his round face and Thryssa stared speechlessly.
An indignant Lorak, escorted rather more closely than he felt necessary by four men at arms, stood on the threshold. To her own surprise, Thryssa found herself crossing the room to greet the old gardener with a hug and a kiss on his weathered cheek.
‘You didn’t come through the circle did you?’ she asked in belated alarm.
Lorak was confused: first he had been leapt upon by some very well built farmers, then a bunch of armed guards had hustled him across Parima these two days, and now Lady Thryssa kissed him in welcome. Lula struggled to get her head out of her sack below Lorak’s chin and Thryssa exclaimed in pleasure, helping the Kephi free.
‘Lorak brings news from Talvo,’ said Lashek. ‘I have taken the liberty of asking Orsim, Pajar, Kwanzi and Pachela to join us Thryssa.’
Thryssa dismissed the guards and drew Lorak to a chair.
‘So,’ Thryssa leaned towards Lorak while Lula perched primly on his knees and stared around the room with interest. ‘You come from Talvo. How did you get there? Is Gremara back?’
Lorak looked a little vague.
‘Me and Fenj, we come for a bit of a visit to young Jeela, seeing as how she be on her own for a while.’
Thryssa sat back as those whom Lashek had summoned entered the study.
‘Fenj is in Talvo then?’ asked Lashek cheerfully. ‘Wonderful character!’
Lorak grinned at him. ‘He is that.’ He looked at Pachela who had sat down on a low stool beside Thryssa’s chair. Her grey eyes surrounded with silver, stared steadily back. ‘You be Pachela? Jeela likes you.’
Pachela blushed in surprise.
‘Couldn’t you go and see her for a while? Not much to do in this old place I shouldn’t think, not for a fair maid like you.’
Thryssa cleared her throat to try to regain control of the conversation, but Lorak had transferred his gaze to Pajar.
‘My stars! Never seed hair the colour of yorn,’ he said. ‘Just like a poppy.’
Pajar also blushed and Lorak’s admiring look faded somewhat.
‘Lorak,’ said Thryssa firmly. ‘What news do you bring us? Has Mim suggested a way we might deal with Zloy?’
‘Who be Zloy?’
Thryssa’s lips tightened in exasperation. ‘The thing that has taken over Fira Circle.’
Lorak belatedly removed his battered hat and studied it minutely. Lula chirruped on his knee.
‘Fenj had an idea,’ she said in their minds. ‘We will help him.’
Six pairs of eyes focused on the Kephi. She drew herself up tidily. ‘It is a very clever idea too.’
‘Are we to be told what this idea involves?’ Thryssa asked.
Lula yawned and turned round and round on Lorak’s lap. Lorak finally met Thryssa’s hazel eyes.
‘It involves fire d’you see?’
Thoughts raced through the High Speaker’s mind but it was Pachela who spoke first.
‘Jeela told us that Gremara said Zloy feared fire even though he hid behind it. That first night when Jeela came here in the rain.’
Thryssa nodded slowly while Orsim shifted in his chair.
‘All of us can use fire to a modest extent. But even combined, I do not see how we could approach this creature close enough to use it.’
‘Fenj said that he could.’
Thryssa and Orsim sat up, alert and hopeful at Lorak’s words, but Lashek scowled.
‘He would be at enormous risk,’ he said.
Lorak nodded and shrugged. ‘Old fellow said he knew what he were doing.’
Lashek saw both sorrow and fear gleam briefly in Lorak’s eyes, then they were gone.
‘We do not know where Prilla, or Zloy, actually are in Fira,’ Kwanzi objected. ‘We could trace her accurately of course, but only if we let our shields dissipate.’
‘Can Fenj find her?’ Thryssa asked. ‘Does he know the mind signature which he would have to locate?’
Lorak squirmed in his chair. ‘Old fellow knows what he’s doing,’ he repeated stubbornly.
Before any more questions could be pressed upon Lorak, Speaker Lashek got out of his chair.
‘Come Lorak. Let me take you to the dining hall, and then I will show you the enclosed gardens which are a pride of the Corvida.’
Lorak stood with alacrity, jamming his hat back onto his head and Lula under his arm, and departed with Lashek.
‘Is Lorak a councillor of the Stronghold?’ Pajar sounded puzzled.
Thryssa snorted. ‘He is, or was, the Lady Emla’s head gardener in Gaharn, until he met the old Dragon Fenj. I gather he spends more time concocting suspicious brews than he does gardening, but Fenj is devoted to him. The Dragon Lord also regards him highly,’ Thryssa added thoughtfully. She looked at her husband. ‘Something worries you already?’
‘For Fenj to get close enough to this creature, would be to expose himself fully to its influence. I think, whether this Zloy is destroyed in the process or not, it is highly probable that the Dragon will pay with his own life.’
Thryssa’s eyes widened. Her husband’s words shocked her, and Pachela paled beside her.
‘Explain,’ Orsim demanded.
Kwanzi regarded his hands as he framed his reply.
‘Fire may destroy this entity. It may not. But it would be the distraction that our mages need to invade Zloy’s mind and take it apart. Zloy would necessarily focus all his attention on that distraction, albeit for only a few moments, which is when we would have to strike. But you have felt the strength of Zloy’s anger against our shields. Could even the great Dragons withstand that? And could just one alone do so?’
‘We cannot let him spend his life for us.’ The words burst from Pachela. ‘We cannot.’
Orsim shrugged. ‘If he is willing to do this, we surely need some help.’
Pachela glared, regardless of the fact that she was but a student and Orsim the Speaker of Kedara.
‘Would you do the same then?’ she demanded, her fists clenched against her knees. ‘Should the Dragons, or the people of Gaharn, or the Stronghold, be in peril, would you offer yourself for them?’
Orsim frowned at the girl but he moved uncomfortably in his chair.
‘And don’t you dare tell me that would be different. It would be no different to what this Dragon is prepared to do for us.’
Pachela fled the study, unable to restrain either her tears or her anger.
‘I believe Lashek will learn more from Lorak, in his own way, than we could hope to do by questioning him further here.’ Thryssa spoke into the silence. She smiled at Orsim. ‘And I do think Pachela has made a valid point. Fenj is old: older than any of the other great Dragons, from what I know. Perhaps he truly feels it is near his time to travel Beyond, and if he can help us, at the cost of his life, it would but speed his journey?’
Kwanzi sighed as he stood up. ‘I must check the change of mages,’ he said, opening the study door. He hesitated, looking back into the room. ‘I fear that I side with Pachela in this matter. I would find it hard to live, knowing that the death of that Dragon was the reason I did so.’
