Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series, page 45
Orla’s hand was on the great mound of her front, feeling a foot or a hand pushing restlessly up against her.
‘I fear to wait much longer,’ she said. ‘Already he is grown so large birthing him may be difficult.’
For the first time she felt a twinge of alarm. Could she deliver herself out here in this wilderness, with no pain relief, no instruments, no one to help her?
‘I will help you, beloved. My son will cone forth fit and healthy. Do not worry.’
As Orla drifted into sleep, that tiny part of her mind which was struggling to maintain its existence, pointed out exactly what the Man had said. He had told her the boy would be fit and healthy: what about her? Could she really believe she could survive this ordeal, as ordeal she knew it would surely be? The next day was bad enough. The weather grew cloudy, the wind stronger and colder, and rain gusted into their faces on and off through the whole day.
Orla’s discomfort was intense although two empty eyed tribesmen helped her: one riding behind to hold her sideways on the horse, another beside them to make sure the animal moved steadily. Orla was half fainting by the time she was carried in to a low deep cave, the horses clattering and snorting behind her. A bed was made of blankets and cloaks well out of any draughts and a fire blazed cheerfully between her and the cave mouth. The tribesmen sat near the horses but Orla was beyond noticing their gaunt skeletal appearances.
She had been conscious only of her pregnancy, had been totally unaware that she had not eaten since she’d left the desert, existing only on sips of water through all these days. Neither did she notice the fire burned without fuel, the flames writhing and leaping just above the rock of the cave floor. By now Orla was feverish, her mind fidgeting from thought to thought.
‘What is our son’s name to be?’ she suddenly asked aloud.
‘His name is Karlesh.’ The Man’s voice swelled with pride.
‘I don’t know that name.’ Orla sounded petulant. ‘I would have liked to name him.’
She didn’t see the ferocious sneer that crossed her beloved’s face as pain stabbed down her back and legs. She moaned and the Man seemed to be even closer to her.
‘It is time,’ he said the scowl replaced by a look of delighted excitement. ‘He will soon be in the world.’
Orla struggled through that night, trying to find a position which would give some relief to the pains tearing through her almost constantly. The tribesmen sat unnoticing near the mouth of the cave while Orla turned and twisted. She felt agony rip through her groin and screamed. She raised herself to lean her shoulders against the rough stone wall and tried to see over the enormous lump of her belly. She put her hand down, moaning with pain, and brought it away bright with blood. She twisted herself, her breath sobbing in great gasps, to try to see what was happening.
Sweat poured from her and she bit through her lower lip. The skin was torn along her groin towards her left hip and the flesh gaped, assisted by a small hand which appeared to have black talons at the tips of its fingers. Orla felt blood, hot and thick, pumping between her legs and her brain cleared to an icy clarity. She was dying but she would not let this monster survive. Orla writhed as her skin was wrenched apart. She gathered her little remaining strength and reached down again.
She felt nothing as she grasped an arm and pulled. Then pain forced scream after scream through her bitten mouth, but she held on, tugging the child from her. For the space of three heartbeats she stared at the thing she had grown within her. Slime and gore covered as it was, it was laughing, its wide mouth open, showing tiny sharp teeth. For three heartbeats, each slower, weaker than the last, Orla stared into its narrow slanted eyes.
With what she knew was the very last of her life, she moved her other hand round its neck, attempting to crush the life from this abomination she had contributed towards making. It laughed aloud, a high pitched cackle, and twisted one of her hands free with no apparent effort. It sank its teeth into her other hand and she heard her own bones crunch in its jaws. Orla felt the last faint bump of her pulse and life winked out of her eyes. The fire continued to blaze, Qwah thinking his child might like to see properly for a while.
Karlesh climbed towards Orla’s face, smearing his fingers across her bloody mouth. He licked his fingers and giggled, bending his head to tear a lump of flesh from her breast. He sucked the blood from the gobbet, chewing only a little of the flesh. He slithered back down to the puddles of blood pooling under Orla’s hips and lapped thirstily. He belched, peering over Orla’s thigh towards the men sitting motionless between him and the outside world.
‘They will feed you until you are strong enough to leave this place my son.’ Qwah’s voice rang with pride.
The child stared at a spot halfway up the cave wall, straight into Qwah’s eyes in fact.
‘You are so thoughtful father,’ Karlesh replied, sucking a finger, the picture of childish perfection to the doting Qwah.
Behind his veiled eyes, Karlesh studied the threads of his father’s being. What a primitive he was!
Chapter Thirty-Six
Namolos was exhausted. He had been locked in mental combat with a mind utterly alien to any he had encountered, for far too long. He knew his wife, colleagues and students would be doing everything possible to sustain his body until his mind returned. But that body was weakening fast. It was an interesting problem. If his body died his mind paradoxically would be stronger. If his mind was thus strengthened, he knew there was a good chance of him damaging the other mind badly enough to win his own release.
Grek had told him of those called the Bound Ones. Namolos had sensed these entities, secure within their confining spells, centuries ago when first he began to travel within the very fabric of the world. He had recognised them as purely evil energy and had thereafter avoided the sites of their imprisonment. He was deeply alarmed when Grek told him what was happening in Malesh and in the desert which separated Malesh from the Sapphrean plains, but by that time he had already encountered the other mind.
He had to decide quickly and knowing Tika, Farn and Khosa were already placed to intervene against the Bound Ones, he chose to send his mind north. Namolos was taken completely by surprise. One moment he had been part of the air, an insignificant particle among a million others, and the next he had slammed into conflict. He had long known of the power of names. He had listened to the wise ones of the island on which he’d landed with his family. At first, in spite of his serious, attentive expression, he had scoffed privately at their simplistic beliefs. But over time he saw what those simple beliefs could achieve.
Slowly, Namolos and his wife learnt, and were stunned by the immense power simplicity could produce. His daughters learnt more quickly, each showing an aptitude for different aspects of the wise ones’ teachings. The concept of naming had been one of the hardest for Namolos to fully understand but when he did, he was awed by the conclusions it might lead to. Now, if he only knew the name, the true name, of this creature he was locked with, he would have more than just hope with which to fight it. That the creature did not know Namolos was a huge relief, but it seemed to have a completely different mental configuration to any Namolos had come across.
He had slid through the waters of the immense seas, listening to the tiniest polyps and to the greatest whales. He had overheard the great female Avgoor talking to the sea Dragon Storm and also to Tika. Star Dancer had first picked up the anomaly which Namolos found was a malignancy poisoning this beautiful world of Kel-Harat. While it grew extraordinarily slowly, he had yet been unable to pinpoint its exact position. The Ship had only discovered slight energy changes, but they moved, never appearing to remain in the same place long enough for Namolos to approach.
Namolos had discussed his findings with the wise ones of the island and they had evinced alarm verging on disabling fear. They refused to discuss it further with him so he was left to increase his abilities in far travelling and search it out himself. Abesh and their daughters, analysing Namolos’s findings piece by piece, had agreed that whatever this creature was, it had to be found and disabled, if not destroyed. The Ships still in harmonic orbit had been unable to trace Namolos’s creature. They concluded that Star Dancer’s receptors were altered in some way when she made her descent through the atmosphere, making her more susceptible to local energy fields.
Dancer ran systems diagnostics of increased subtlety and agreed with her sibling Ships. Namolos now understood that the very slowness of the creature’s growth and advance had been the cause of his grave misjudgement of the situation: he had assumed there was plenty of time to deal with it. Approximately four centuries ago the activity of the malignant energy began to accelerate, taking Namolos by surprise. His daughters left the island, determined to help prevent this creature destroying the only world they’d ever known. While time was insignificant to Namolos, it still seemed too long to be without his children and he had been able to contact only one of them, and that only briefly once in this past year. She had seen her sister she told him, but could no longer contact her anymore, than either of them could contact him.
It was many days since Namolos had felt the destruction of Valesh, the reverberations of that event shivering through his mind. It was in the aftermath that he found the entity he so feared had split itself – one part was on the great land mass east of his island which contained the lands of Sapphrea and Malesh. The other part was still in the second continent on the opposite side of the planet. Namolos felt that most of the creature – the older, more knowing part of its essence, was in the further land. That must be his target now; it had to be.
He despaired that he had no means of warning those brave children of what they must now face, particularly the child Tika whose existence he had worked so hard and patiently to bring about. The unbodied Grek had vanished. Namolos suspected he had returned to the lands of Drogoya and become assimilated or destroyed by the thing which, in this particular time, on this particular world, called itself Cho Petak.
The Ships in orbit had reported other signs of an intelligent energy pattern. In turn, Namolos investigated and although also alien to anything he knew, he found it was benign and quiescent. The orbiting Ships told Dancer that the second life form had become more active of late – within the last planetary year. Namolos decided he could wait no longer and after telling Elka he was far travelling indefinitely and that no attempt must be made to recall him, he sank his consciousness into the very being of Kel-Harat.
And now twenty days had elapsed as all his household were all too aware. Namolos held one grain of comfort: locked as they were, the other mind could focus on nothing other than trying to free itself. It would be a small price to pay, Namolos felt, if his life could neutralise this threat to his world.
Tika and her friends had very little warning of the fire which seemed to sweep from horizon to horizon. While there was only a knee high coarse grass on which to feed, the fire reached upwards several times higher than Brin. Jakri suspected an illusion, the type of spell he had used himself only a couple of days earlier, but it was quickly apparent that the fire was real enough. It sped towards them, the outer ends curving in to encircle them.
The Dragons lifted into the air bearing the companions high to avoid the hungry grasp of the flames. As they flew over the fire, the heat was intense. They put more distance between themselves and Orla’s camp, racing through the night towards the hills. They found a sheltered meadow, overlooked by steeper slopes, and settled to rest. Ren was convinced they had not been seen rising above the flames and he believed they now had an advantage. Valesh’s brother would think he’d been successful and had lost his pursuers.
Jakri was inclined to agree although both Gan and Sket expressed doubts. Maressa let her mind soar into the higher atmosphere and the others waited patiently for the air mage’s report. She blinked and smiled at the faces watching her expectantly.
‘Ren’s right. There is no sign at all of him taking any sort of care now. Orla rides towards the hills, perhaps ten leagues east of us. There is no sense of a shield or wardings, no disturbed air around her.’
Navan had collected a few small desiccated bushes and suggested making a fire. Gan scowled.
‘Smoke is an obvious giveaway,’ he said firmly.
‘Nonsense,’ Maressa overrode him. ‘By the time any smoke gets above these slopes, it will have dissipated enough to be invisible.’
‘One of you should keep close watch on Orla,’ Gan insisted and with that Maressa had no argument.
Tika was surveying the meadow. ‘This seems as good a place as any to wait,’ she announced.
Sket grunted but Tika ignored him.
‘I have a feeling they will rest for a few days once they feel they are safely hidden among these hills. Don’t forget how far and how hard they’ve ridden lately. Their horses must be near exhaustion and from what we heard, this is Orla’s first trip ever outside the Domes. She must surely be at the limit of her endurance.’
‘What do you suggest?’ Gan demanded.
‘That we wait,’ Tika repeated. ‘If Brin could be ready to shield us at any moment?’ She waited for the crimson Dragon’s assent in her mind. ‘The rest of us can take turns watching where Orla’s heading and where she stops.’
‘Then?’ Gan pressed.
She smiled at Lady Emla’s Captain of Guards. ‘Then I will do what I must.’
Akomi butted against her leg and she scratched the old cat behind his ears. Khosa had stalked off towards the nearest slope. They were all wary of using Qwah’s name and referred to him only as Valesh’s brother but they felt he was somehow less than Valesh. Tika was sure that Valesh would not have cast the fire spell without returning to check on its success or otherwise: Qwah had apparently simply assumed they could not survive his circle of flames.
They spent an idle day, Maressa and Jakri taking turns to overlook Orla’s progress.
‘There’s something wrong with Orla,’ the Wendlan remarked after his latest turn of far watching.
‘What?’ asked Farn. His eyes whirred rapidly, indicative of anxiety.
Storm slept quietly leaning against Brin’s flank.
‘I can’t make out,’ Jakri apologised. ‘They are travelling much more slowly. I get the feeling she has a fever.’
‘Is he still with her though? Tika asked.
‘Oh yes, more concentrated around her than before I’d say Mistress.’
‘What is it he wants with Orla?’ Tika fretted. ‘She has no mental powers: she regarded them as tricks, foolish games. Both she and Kertiss ridiculed the idea of such things. So why does he need her with him?’
There was a considerable silence while they pondered why a Bound One might need the company of a Survivor, but no one came up with any solution. Farn was restless, pacing round the meadow every now and then, his gaze rarely leaving Tika.
‘He wasn’t like this before Lady,’ Sket murmured. ‘Not when we went off to that witch woman’s place. And I’m clean out of the mixture Lorak gave us to keep Farn calm. I could make up something from the herbs Ammi gave us in Green Shade, but it wouldn’t be the same as Lorak’s and I don’t know how it might affect the youngster.’
‘Don’t worry Sket. I think it’s partly something that Brin said to him.’
Tika stood up and walked over to the silver blue Dragon, sliding her arms round his shoulders and pressing her face against the scar that wound down his long neck. Brin’s face lowered towards Sket.
‘I will protect him, Dragon friend. Never forget that I will protect him, even as you protect his soul bond.’
Brin’s mind tone was sombre and quite frankly, rather than comforting Sket, he found himself more perturbed than ever. Jakri and Gan were asleep. Ren and Navan were investigating a small pool some short way up the western slopes, with Khosa following them with interest. Sket’s hand went instinctively to his sword as Ren suddenly straightened, clutching Navan’s arm, but he relaxed again when the two men bent once more to the pool. Tika and Farn wandered back, Farn appearing calmer to Sket’s experienced eye. Tika turned to Sket just as he turned, frowning, to her.
‘It’s back again,’ he said tersely and examined the ground around him. ‘Can’t see the star cursed stuff anywhere, but I can smell it.’
‘Zerran said it was a sign of something benign.’ Tika was also poking among the tangled grass. Akomi sneezed and both Sket and Tika stared at him. He sneezed again.
‘Don’t tell me you can smell mint?’ she mind spoke the old cat.
‘I don’t know what mint is, but there is a smell here, a sharp and ticklish smell.’
Tika laughed at his description, picking him up and rubbing her cheek against his whiskery face. Ren and Navan joined them. ‘You’ll never guess,’ Ren began.
‘That you smelt mint,’ Tika grinned at him. She sniffed. ‘It’s gone again now, but we smelt it here. And so did Akomi.’
‘They’ve stopped,’ Maressa interrupted. ‘Orla and the tribesmen. A cave or something I think. Everything is concentrated on a very small area.’ Her eyes met Tika’s and Tika smiled affectionately.
‘Then now is the time we approach closer. Can you keep close watch while we travel? I don’t want him to catch any hint of my mind until it’s too late for him to do anything unpleasant.’
Maressa swallowed. ‘Of course I can.’
She turned to stuff her blanket into her pack to hide her face from the others, especially Tika. She had a very bad feeling inside her this time, far, far worse than when they knew Tika would have to face down Valesh.
Brin led them eastwards. He flew low, hugging the hilltops, and kept their pace much slower than usual.
‘There.’ Maressa mind spoke them all. ‘The hill to the right with a sort of step on its top.’
They peered through a persistent drizzle to the hill Maressa indicated.
‘Land us on the hill behind,’ Tika directed Brin.
When the Dragons set down, the companions dismounted and huddled close together. Tika wanted as little use of mind speech as possible lest Qwah pick up the faintest hint there might be danger close by.
