Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series, page 33
Valesh had grown cunning during her imprisonment but cajole as she might she had been unable to persuade Vorna to approach other mages, seek other minds in her quest to free her. Valesh had suggested that others might have access to forgotten knowledge of which Vorna knew nothing. Vorna had been offended by the very idea and Valesh had to waste a great deal of time soothing the woman’s ruffled self esteem.
No other mages came to Vorna’s estates through the years except her favoured apprentices. Valesh had been both amused and annoyed at the dreadful lack of talent these apprentices had. She recognised Bajal now, he was in the room with Vorna, but his mind was collapsing, folding in upon itself. And it had been a weak mind to begin with.
Since the time she was Bound, Valesh had no communication from her siblings. She did not even know if they had been destroyed completely or were Bound as she and Qwah had been. When she first stirred she found herself within a fissure of the world’s crust far beneath the sea between Malesh and Wendla. The mages must have believed it would be impossible to escape such a place. Vorna smiled on her couch in the library as Valesh’s amusement swept through her mind. The heat of the magma had obliterated some of the spells cast to keep her deep below and so she had risen, moving with the molten rock as it seeped through the fault line to end in cooling basalt under Vorna’s estates. Valesh continued to murmur her seductive blandishments to Mage Councillor Vorna with a tiny fraction of her mind. The by far larger part of her essence swelled and writhed, flexing incessantly at the holding spells and snarling for release.
The Tower rising above the sprawling College of Mages in Harbour City had four floors and a deep basement. For many years now only the top floor had been in frequent use: for annual Conclave of the highest mages and at midsummer for the induction of students to the ninth and lowest rank of mage. The floor below the Chamber of Conclave was a library, filled with parchments and books, journals and letters, accessed only by mages who had achieved fifth rank status or higher.
Once a mage had been raised to the fifth rank he or she usually paid ostentatious visits to the Tower archive. However, only half a dozen such visits were made at most: the apparent confusion and the quantities of dust put off even the most assiduous mage. Vorna had managed to search only a small section of the Tower archive while Taseen lay unconscious after the final battle. She didn’t expect to find anything of worth and was distracted by many other things at that period. She’d found herself the only mage left in the College with real ambition to do more to make her desires become reality.
A few old men and women remained – mages of third and second rank who had chosen specialist study and teaching rather than playing active parts in the ruling of Malesh. The damage sustained by all of them meant that although technically they lived, in fact they were mere ciphers. Taseen surprised everyone by recovering sufficiently to be transported back to Harbour City and his apartments within the College. His mind regained its astuteness and he became a much appreciated lecturer and tutor while freely admitting he could teach theory only. He always admitted to his classes that he could no longer exercise any power: a confession which was always received in appalled silence. These ninth rank mages were too newly come to their talent and the thought of losing those gifts was beyond their comprehension.
Taseen was often to be found in the Tower archive in the years after the final battle, but once he had secretly transferred many volumes from the Tower to his own apartments, dust gathered ever more thickly on shelves, desks and window sills. In her careless belief in her own invincible strength, Vorna had failed to see that certain volumes had threads of warding along their spines: she, as most others, merely noticed a gap where a book appeared to be missing. Since Taseen’s discreet “borrowing”, the gaps on the shelves were exactly what they seemed.
Through the years Taseen’s fears had grown and he tested students and young mages to no avail until at last Sheoma and Tavri presented themselves at his tutorials. Aware that time was running out, he forced them to learn, to read, to be on constant guard against Vorna. Tavri now stood in the centre of the Chamber of Conclave. He had been speaking steadily for the better part of the morning to a packed and silent audience – every mage at present within the College, from ninth to first rank. He finally bowed and stood waiting for questions.
Sheoma sat across the Chamber from Tavri and had been scanning face after face as he spoke. Now, as she’d anticipated, most of the highest ranking mages bent close to each other, speaking softly before Zerran got to his feet. In the silence before he spoke, the sound of young laughter drifted up from four floors below: students with unexpected free time in which to chatter and remember how young they were.
‘We are grateful that you see fit to inform us now Mage Tavri,’ Zerran began. ‘Many of us have had our suspicions if not fears of Vorna’s duplicity. We have discussed the matter among ourselves.’ He indicated the row where sat the first and second rank mages. ‘It might have been wiser if Taseen had confided his own fears much sooner.’
Having delivered his reprimand his expression relaxed. ‘I personally can confirm many of Tavri’s words. I tried to locate Vorna during the night, thinking it might be possible whilst she slept.’ He grimaced. ‘She is beyond the need for sleep now I believe. There is increasing distortion around the whole of her estate. I could find no chink through which I might enter.’
Glances were exchanged among many mages: Zerran was first rank, one of the most powerful mind manipulators in the history of the College. If he couldn’t penetrate whatever surrounded Vorna, it was certain no one else could.
‘You omitted part of your story Tavri. You told us that Taseen is now in Wendla and that message birds will shortly arrive offering the help of both Wendlan Mages and armsmen. But there have been visitors to this city of whom you have not told us I think.’
Tavri stood up again. ‘You know of visitors?’ he asked.
Zerran nodded. ‘They were so heavily shielded that I could not identify them, which is why I ask you to do so now in this Conclave.’
Tavri gave a weary smile. ‘Eight humans, two of whom had silver eyes, one man from another world, three great Dragons, one sea Dragon, three newly fledged gijan and a cat.’
Nothing disturbed the silence this time until Zerran managed to find his voice again.
‘Gijan?’ he whispered. ‘Surely we may have hope now.’
Tavri shook his head. ‘Newly fledged I told you, and without Elders to teach them. One of the humans, the girl with silver eyes, used healing powers to extract their wings. The gijan have been kept as slaves in the desert city for years.’
Zerran sank back onto his chair, his face as white as his hair. ‘The Dragons then; surely they must have an idea of what to do? Their kind have race memories if I recall the text books correctly.’
Again Tavri shook his head. ‘One of them grew angry just because she has no memories of this land or of the gijan, or the battles in which her kind fought and suffered. The gijan have said that they remember gatherings north of the desert where their people met with the Dragon kind.’
Sheoma interrupted suddenly. ‘Mages,’ she called. ‘Those of whom Tavri speaks are nearly here. The air mage from the north, Maressa, tells me they will land in the rear court garden of the temple of the Elder Races near the north gate.’
She met Tavri’s eyes, nodded and hurried from the Chamber: the Grand Harbour Master should be present at this meeting. Two hundred or so mages in the Chamber were also on their feet. Zerran raised his hands and his voice.
‘We shall make our way to the temple.’ He glared at a few of the younger mages. ‘And with dignity please.’
The companions were approaching the coast of Malesh, the endless buildings of Harbour City cluttering the entire shoreline of the long curving bay. They flew high enough to see the waters beyond the western promontory of Harbour City. They were all aware of a shimmering patch of unmoving fog further to the north west which indicated the whereabouts of both Vorna and the Bound One.
Maressa far spoke Sheoma then passed the message among the friends.
‘Most of the Maleshan mages will be waiting for us as well as the Grand Harbour Master,’ she warned them.
‘Poor Taza, inundated with yet more uninvited guests,’ Ren said with sympathy.
Grek was still absent, a fact which bothered Tika now that she’d seen the miasmic air which concealed a Bound One. She had no idea what this creature might actually look like: was it unbodied and therefore invisible like Grek, or was that foggy cloud hiding some strangely disfigured monstrous shape? Somehow she never thought of the Bound Ones as resembling humans although they were supposedly of human blood. There had been no discussion among them on their rapid journey from Wendla regarding what they must face.
Farn was still calm although he was quieter, less likely to tease. Storm was contented with Navan on his back and the sea beneath them. But Tika noted his eyes whirred restlessly, white and grey lights sparking in them more than usual. Brin was his usual self, but Seela was withdrawn, almost silent although she appeared to mind speak the gijan who continued to sleep on her broad back whenever they landed to rest.
Tika also worried about the wisdom in bringing Akomi: he was weary from the travelling and the strangeness of everything after his restricted life in the imperial palace seemed to be overwhelming him. Tika pushed all such thoughts from her mind as Brin, still shielding them, began to lose height, seeking Sheoma’s mind signature in the chaotic jumble of streets and houses that made up Harbour City.
The lower they flew, the larger the city seemed, until they could see only buildings in any direction. But at last green fields appeared ahead of them. They knew they were approaching the temple of the Elder Races which was not far from the northern gate through which they’d entered the city before. Peering down past Farn’s shoulder, Tika saw the streets were empty of the usual pushing crowds, were instead lined with brown uniformed armsmen. She saw that the section where the temple stood was ringed with men who blocked the passage of furious citizens.
They glided over the temple’s domed roof to the garden behind and Brin released the shielding. The companions stared down into a sea of upturned faces. Tika glanced across at Jakri sitting between Ren and Maressa on Seela, and he offered her a nervous smile. Then they were landing – carefully, because the space was more restricted than they’d hoped. Mages pressed back, out of the way, but still found themselves alarmingly close to the four Dragons. The gijan fluttered down to stand hand in hand beside Farn, their heads tilting from side to side as they searched the faces around them. Leaf trilled and dashed between the Grand Harbour Master and Zerran to enfold the priest Taza.
The Maleshans didn’t know whom to stare at first: the amazing Dragons, the feathered gijan, or the young woman who stared at them with emerald eyes surrounded by silver. Farn huffed into the sudden quiet.
‘Well, we’re here, and you’re here. What happens next?’
Tika smothered a laugh and moved towards the Grand Harbour Master, hand on her sword hilt and Sket at her shoulder. Chevra and Harrip were the only two she could see wearing trousers and shirts rather than long robes so she had assumed they weren’t mages. Harrip bowed and introduced Chevra and Zerran. The mages were quickly losing their nervousness, pressing closer to hear what the visitors might say. Zerran, more aware than the others of considerable tension among the new arrivals, smiled at Tika.
‘Tavri told us your company consisted of four Dragons – whose magnificence we now see.’ He bowed to Seela and Brin. ‘Three gijan – who are more beautiful than I had imagined they might be.’ Piper giggled and half extended her wings, revealing the pale green under feathers.
‘Tavri also said there were eight humans and a man from another world.’ Zerran looked up at Gan’s tall thin figure, still smiling.
Gan saluted, returning the smile. ‘I have come to believe that is true sir, although I was born in Gaharn, far to the north.’
Zerran nodded, turning next to Ren who cradled Akomi in his arms. ‘Tavri mentioned a cat,’ he said.
Khosa wriggled free of Maressa’s hold and stalked forward. ‘Two cats,’ she corrected coldly.
Zerran hid his surprise at being mind spoken by a cat and apologised for his mistake.
‘If I am correct, you are from Wendla?’ he enquired of Jakri.
‘He is Jakri, a Mage and the Master of House Jade,’ Ren explained. ‘And he bears the authority of Emperor Kasheen.’
Jakri extended his arm, revealing the gold jewelled band around his wrist, the imperial insignia clear to see. He handed a wad of folded parchment to Chevra.
‘The Emperor Kasheen confirms in writing that ten ships with fifteen hundred warriors are on their way to assist you in the north. Fifty Mages accompany the ships, and while one Mage must remain with each ship, forty are at your disposal.’
Chevra was plainly taken aback by the numbers Jakri mentioned: Emperor Kasheen was concerned indeed by the situation in Malesh. Chevra wondered fleetingly if he could have responded so quickly and so generously had Malesh and Wendla’s positions been reversed. Before he could reply, the young woman with the strange green eyes spoke.
‘If you have discovered anything to help us get close to the Bound One please tell us. There is little time left.’ All saw a shudder ripple through her small frame. ‘I have to be much nearer to the actual essence of the creature in order to have a chance of destroying it.’
None of those listening missed her use of the word “I” rather than “we”. Many if not most studied her with a new respect – so young she seemed, yet apparently she would be the one to take on the imprisoned Child. Zerran asked most of the mages to leave the confined temple garden, the few who remained being those who had made the study of events before the last battle and earlier their life’s work: to the previous amusement of most of their colleagues. Zerran sat in one of the seats cut into the wall nearby and without invitation, Tika joined him.
‘You probably know as much as we do,’ he said quietly.
‘The great Dragon Seela has told me how a soul is unmade,’ Tika replied in just as quiet a tone. ‘But I have to be close, close enough to see with my eyes, not just through my mind.’
Zerran felt her mind probe his and stayed calmly relaxed. She must have been reassured by what she found for she gave a quick nod. She lowered her voice even further.
‘I have decided that I will try to go straight to Vorna’s estates: not that I think there is still a woman called Vorna anymore. She will have changed, or been changed – I can tell that just from the lightest touch of the cloud there.’
Zerran waited patiently, understanding that this young woman was choosing to tell him what she could discuss with no other now. He could tell she was working hard to maintain an attitude of casual calmness while she kept a discreet eye on the young silver blue Dragon. He had begun to follow her to where Zerran sat but had been intercepted by an armsman and the young man with silvered eyes.
‘Farn is my soul bond but I cannot – cannot – allow him to join me. The crimson Dragon Brin will try to keep both Farn and Storm asleep for as long as he dares. Seela will take me into the heart of that cloud which hides Valesh.’
Zerran glanced at her. ‘You use her name so openly?’ he asked.
Tika shrugged. ‘It matters not, now. She is awake, aware. When she was strongly Bound, mentioning her name tugged at her consciousness, brought her through some of the layers of spells. Zerran, I go tonight to be at the location for sunrise. She is of darkness – her strength will be slightly less in daylight.’
Zerran flinched inwardly at the thought that mere daylight would have much effect on a monstrous Child. The young woman stared into his face, the green eyes magnified by tears.
‘I have discussed this only with Seela and Brin as I said.’ She gave him a shaky smile. ‘I doubt I’d get away without Sket’s company.’
Zerran recognised the armsman in the picture in his mind as the one nearest the silver blue Dragon.
‘Sket appointed himself my personal guard – it seems a lifetime ago but it is less than a year in fact. Please Zerran, keep the gijan safe here – lock them inside the temple if you must. They must survive and go to Namolos’s island far to the west.’
Zerran had to ask. ‘Why do you tell me these things?’
Again the strangely beautiful eyes framed in black lashes met his. ‘It is likely Seela and I will not return, or if we do we may be changed as Vorna must be. If we do return and you have any doubts as to how damaged or altered we might be, you will destroy both of us.’
In spite of long years of cultivating an impassive exterior, Zerran could not hide his shock at Tika’s words.
‘Quickly,’ she forestalled any protest he could make. ‘Open your mind to me and I will show you how to untie the threads of a soul.’
Thoughts whirled in Zerran’s head but then images appeared, stark and clear. He drew a deep breath as Tika broke contact with his mind.
‘You must show those of your colleagues in whom you have complete faith how this is done. It will be the only way to defeat Valesh if I fail, but again you must understand you must be close to the Bound One. The ones you choose to cast this power must be guarded by others, the strongest mages you have.’
Zerran reached for her hand, appalled at the smallness, the fragility of the bones of that hand, but before he could find any words, Ren approached, Akomi trotting at his heels. His chestnut silvered eyes narrowed briefly then he smiled.
‘Taza’s dear wife and daughter have food prepared – as always,’ he said lightly. ‘And Salma has more new clothes for the gijan.’
Tika gave Zerran’s hand a squeeze and got to her feet.
‘I have to thank her for the ones she made me. Excuse me please Zerran, no doubt we will speak again in the next few days.’
Zerran’s heart – an organ that rarely troubled him the way it seemed to lesser mortals, twisted with pain. Would he ever speak to this girl woman again? As Tika vanished among the fluttering wings of the gijan, Zerran too rose from the seat.
