Lokant

by Charlotte E. English

  A presence came sliding through it, a tall man with pale hair. Was it blonde or even paler than that? His eyes were blue and very direct as they settled first on Devary and then on Llandry.

  ‘Excellent work, Mr Kant. I knew you would not disappoint us.’

  Chapter Nine

  If the child had been better dressed, she could have passed for a miniature version of Eva herself.

  The girl was ten years old and her hair was snow-white. She was quietly thoughtful, slightly diffident in manner, and the only one of Angstrun’s sorcery students who had shown any ability at summoning.

  Lord Angstrun himself stood, toweringly tall and as craggy as a corven, regarding the girl with crossed arms and lowered brow.

  ‘So she’s good at control, but otherwise she lacks the full spectrum.’

  Eva nodded slowly, speaking to Angstrun in a low tone. ‘I’ve rarely seen a child of this age with so much ability to control a beast, but her communication skills are minimal at best. And her methods are unusual. Most summoners are less... direct. They feel the beast’s needs and impressions and behave accordingly. It’s manipulative. Susa’s approach is pure domination.’

  The girl, Susa, looked back at Eva placidly. She was diffident under Angstrun’s heavy stare, but her demeanour hid a surprisingly firm will. When she had turned it on the tiny wood meerel Eva had provided for her, the timid creature had capitulated instantly. Susa had made the little furred beast walk, sit and jump according to her command, and apparently without it costing her much effort at all.

  ‘What I don’t understand,’ Eva continued, ‘is how she came to be sent to your department at all. With manipulation that strong, she should be in summoner training.’

  Angstrun shook his head, apparently oblivious to Susa’s discomfort. ‘Early summoner testing focuses on beast empathy, doesn’t it? She failed completely at that. And her sorcery is excellent.’

  ‘True.’ Eva was silent for a moment, still thinking. It made little sense for a summoner to be so successful at animal control, but to entirely lack the rest of the skillset. But none of her personal teaching and encouragement had awakened any ability in Susa save her frightening domination.

  Eva, however, could detect the meerel’s feelings about Susa. Opening her mind to the tiny beast, she sensed none of the fear or resentment she might have expected at the girl’s manner of control. On the contrary, the meerel had developed a virtually instant devotion to Susa and refused to be parted from her. Susa’s influence over it was practically mesmeric.

  ‘Interesting,’ Angstrun murmured, and she could only agree.

  ‘Keep an eye on this one, Angstrun,’ she said. ‘Get her trained in beast control as well as sorcery. And there might be more like her.’ She paused. ‘Get all the white-haired children tested.’

  He raised his heavy black brows at her. ‘“All”? There might be as many as three true white-hairs in the whole realm.’

  ‘Then find all three.’

  Later, after Susa and her new friend had been dismissed, Eva sat comfortably in Angstrun’s chair with her feet up on his personal footstool. Rikbeek lay against her neck, shivering. She was cold, too. Didn’t Angstrun use heating? Her gaze rested sightlessly at some spot on the spotless ceiling as she considered.

  She was remembering her encounter with the two uncanny sorcerer-summoners in the Lowers. The specific aberrations among their abilities had included a degree of beast control that was normally impossible. Ana was a strong summoner, but still it shouldn’t have been feasible for her to reliably control a whurthag taken from the wild. Those creatures - dark as night, fiercely violent and chillingly ice-eyed - had been banned generations ago for their untameable ferociousness.

  And as for her husband, Griel, he was a sorcerer. Yet he, too, had manipulated whurthags with ease, especially when he was in the Lowers.

  Both had the same rare, natural white hair as Susa. The same colour that Eva herself shared. And she, too, had brought a whurthag under her control when she’d had to. When Griel’s pet had threatened Tren, she had protected him by dominating the creature herself.

  To her surprise, she had succeeded in bringing it under her control. It was tenuous; she felt that, outside of the magic-enhancing atmosphere of the Lowers - and without a draykon bone to amplify her strength - she would have lost it.

  But still. She could do it. And, feeling the fledgling strength of the ten-year-old Susa, she had little doubt that the girl would also be fearsomely strong when she was grown.

  Angstrun threw open the door in the middle of her reflections, startling her. She turned a level gaze on him as he crossed the room, stopping in front of her.

  ‘That’s my chair.’

  ‘It’s mine now. At least for the next few minutes.’

  ‘No it isn’t. Get out.’

  ‘No. I’m comfortable. Or I would be if it wasn’t so damned cold in here.’

  He muttered something and took the chair on the other side of the desk. His desk. ‘Right, look. There’s only so much I can do with this without securing some extra funding. We’re pretty stretched at the moment. Are you making a report about this?’

  Eva was silent for a moment. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘Darae. Think about this for a moment. If I’m right - if Susa’s strength and her hair colour - her heritage, let’s say - are linked, then we’d be training up a group of people who can take on whurthags with impunity. And we’d be making that public. I don’t want a whole group of people like Ana on our hands.’

  ‘Spoken like a true paranoid.’

  She smiled briefly. ‘Believe me, if you’ve faced down Griel and a pair of whurthags once, you don’t want to do it again. The ban needs to remain untried for the moment. Just keep it quiet for now. Give them whatever testing you can manage without giving them any ideas, and without making it public. Let me know what comes up.’ She paused. ‘And keep an eye on Susa. I fear that one’s already had more training than is good for her.’

  Angstrun folded his arms. ‘It can’t be kept from everyone. Certainly not from Islvy.’

  ‘I’ll tell the Guardian,’ Eva conceded. ‘But privately.’

  Angstrun nodded. ‘How’s Vale got on with finding your friends?’

  Eva grimaced. Vale had gone after Ana and Griel personally, but without any success; he was still grumpy about it. ‘There was no trace of either of them in Orstwych or Glour, though that wasn’t unexpected. He’s working on Ullarn’s Sorcery and Summoning Schools to share their records.’

  Angstrun’s lips twitched. Eva could guess his thoughts. Ullarn’s magical academies weren’t held in high regard elsewhere; like Irbel, Ullarn’s focus was predominantly on engineering, and they allocated very few resources to magical improvements. As a result, they usually lacked sufficient sorcerers and summoners to maintain the necessary magical infrastructures; but that didn’t bother them at all, as they simply poached promising magical practitioners from the other Darklands realms. That issue was a constant thorn in Angstrun’s side.

  Eva herself was more annoyed by Ullarn’s lack of cooperativeness. They were secretive, suspicious and sometimes outright unfriendly to the other realms, and getting them to assist with anything was usually a difficult task. ‘Vale will wear them down,’ Eva said confidently. ‘He’s used to dealing with them.’

  Angstrun abruptly leaned forward. ‘Speaking of. You left pretty early the other night.’

  “Pretty early” was putting it mildly. Lying in Angstrun’s house unable to sleep, Eva had realised she’d made a mistake. It felt wrong, lying there with Angstrun beside her, and suddenly her old friend’s house was the last place she wanted to be. She had left well before moonrise, when he was still deeply asleep.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said mildly. ‘Early start that day.’

  Angstrun glowered. ‘That’s not it, is it? Something tells me I won’t be enjoying any more visits from you in the Cloaked hours.’

  Eva sighed and sat up. ‘I think not, Darae. I’m sorry.
I wanted... I want to be able to go back to my twenties, when I could do as I pleased in that respect and it didn’t matter. But it does matter, now.’

  Angstrun looked sad, but he didn’t argue. ‘You’re engaged, for the first time in your life. Things are bound to change.’

  Eva didn’t reply. It was true that she’d changed; she felt that her life was in the process of altering completely, and she couldn’t predict where it would take her.

  Because the part that puzzled her the most was why she was changing. And the reason she’d felt that sense of wrongness in Angstrun’s house hadn’t been because of Vale. It had been someone else’s face she’d been missing.

  Leaving the Academy, Eva had her carriage drop her a few circles away from her house and proceed home without her. She felt in need of a walk. At least, that was the reason she gave herself; underneath that she was oddly reluctant to reach home.

  She had not seen Tren for two days. He had left her house immediately after Vale’s unlooked-for arrival home, after which she had disgracefully allowed herself to be distracted away from her promise to meet him at the city library. She’d gone there the next day instead but this time it was Tren who had not appeared. He had not turned up at her house as had become his habit of late, nor had he replied to the note she had sent him. His sudden absence and silence affected her more profoundly than she liked to admit, and she feared arriving home to find that, once again, nothing from Tren awaited her.

  She hadn’t wanted to agree to Vale’s pressure to hasten the wedding. But with him standing before her, smothering her with affection and his familiar face lit with hope and love, she hadn’t been able to refuse.

  But for a sudden, horrible moment, she’d wanted to.

  And why? The marriage had been her idea. She felt her approach to the years when her body would lose the ability to create heirs; she felt the social pressure for a woman in her position to marry and have a family; she’d made a rational, clear-headed choice of partner for reasons which were as true now as they’d ever been. Lord Vale was perfect for her. A suitable age, suitable social status, suitable personality. She had never been bothered with notions of whether or not she loved him; she had no faith in the romantic notions that ruled other people. Decisions made for such irrational reasons fell apart later.

  Nonetheless, now that she was on the verge of carrying through her decision, something in her insisted on rebelling. She felt drawn irresistibly in another direction, and much as she tried to reject and repel it, the attraction refused to be suppressed. She had a horrible feeling that her heart, long under her rational and considered control, had betrayed her at last.

  But none of that should matter. Particularly when the wholly unsuitable object of her wayward affection was apparently unmoved by it. Tren’s manner was almost unwaveringly cheerful, and he bantered with her more in the manner of a comfortable friend than anything else. And when she’d tried to tell him something of her feelings, he had merely blabbered something nonsensical and smiled in his old way and nothing had come of it.

  Now he seemed to have forgotten about her entirely. That hurt enough to warn her that she was most definitely in trouble.

  Reaching home, she resolved on putting these reflections out of her mind. She had enough to occupy her thoughts, more than enough; the matter of Llandry and the other draykon remained unresolved, and she had a new theory to pursue. She smiled at the servant who came to take her coat as she stepped into the hall, and aimed resolutely for the study.

  ‘This came for you, m’lady,’ said Milyn with a curtsey, holding out a folded note. Eva took it with a flutter of trepidation.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, taking the note with her into the study.

  It was from Tren.

  Lady Glostrum,

  I have been called away on an urgent matter and will therefore be unable to attend your ceremony on the 12th. I wish you every happiness nonetheless.

  At present I am unsure when I will be able to return to Glour. Any urgent correspondence may be left with Mrs Geslin in the meantime.

  Yours etc.,

  P. Warvel

  Eva read this note through three times, her puzzlement only increasing with each perusal. The suddenness of it was peculiar. Only two days ago he had been as involved in their research as she, and apparently as enthusiastic; now he abandoned it entirely, for an unspecified time, on account of an unnamed “emergency”?

  He had been on secondment to her for the last few weeks as her research aide, but he was still technically employed by Angstrun. And her own Lord Vale also utilised him from time to time as an investigator of magical infractions. Perhaps one of them had sent him away on his urgent errand? If so, they should have had the courtesy to inform her first.

  But maybe they had nothing to do with it. Perhaps she’d simply been too forward, and Tren had responded by taking himself beyond her reach. She was, after all, more than ten years older than he was.

  Thirteen, said a traitorous inner voice. Thirteen years. She would be forty in less than two more years; he wouldn’t even reach thirty for another five. She was being absurd. The prospect of committing herself to marriage at long last was making her nervous, that was all, and the result was one of those crises that sometimes affected people in the middle phase of their lives. Perhaps it would pass.

  She fervently hoped so, for this uncertainty and doubt did not suit her at all. She straightened her shoulders, dismissing the problem. Sanguine confidence was much more comfortable: she pulled the semblance of it around herself like a well-loved gown and went in search of Vale.

  She found him in the conservatory. He was stretched out in her rocking chair, a paper in his hand and the ambient light-globes turned up to their brightest radiance. She blinked a few times as she entered, surprised by the strong light.

  ‘Eyde,’ she greeted, bending to kiss his cheek. ‘I’ve a question for you.’

  ‘You were a long time.’ Vale pulled her onto his lap, heedless of the fate of his newspaper, and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly. Rikbeek gave a squeak of protest as Vale’s embrace squashed his hiding place in the folds of Eva’s skirt. She ignored him.

  ‘A question,’ she repeated when she could speak again. ‘Tren works for you sometimes. Did you send him on an errand lately?’

  ‘How lately?’ Vale had that misty smile he often wore when he looked at her.

  ‘As in, the day before yesterday.’

  Vale shook his head. ‘He was working with you, wasn’t he?’

  Eva wrinkled her nose, disgruntled. ‘He was. He’s taken himself off somewhere on an “urgent” errand. I was wondering if he’d been seconded away from his secondment.’

  ‘Nothing to do with me,’ Vale said. ‘But if we’re getting back to business, then here. I have something for you.’ He rescued the crumpled newspaper and handed it to her. She took one glance at the paper and all thoughts of Vale, Tren and her upcoming wedding flew out of Eva’s head.

  The front page boasted an enormous picture of a patch of Glinnery forest. The wide caps of glissenwol trees were depicted, and ghosting through the well-lit skies above was a very large beast. The picture had only caught part of the creature, but the general nature of it was obvious. Scaled hide, clawed feet, wings of improbable size...

  Skies Darken Over Glinnery

  The skies darkened over Glinnery today when two winged reptilian creatures were spotted flying over the city of Waeverleyne. Multiple sightings have been reported, describing the creatures as larger than any other known species. One of the beasts (pictured) was grey in colour and its companion - an even larger animal! - was blue-green. The sightings have caused widespread panic in the Glinnish capital, though there has been no response at all from the Summoner Guild as yet. Do they know more than they’re saying about these mysterious monsters?

  Eva scanned the rest of the report quickly, her hands beginning to shake. The grey draykon must have been Llandry, but the fact that the other draykon had accompanied her
was worrying. She couldn’t forget the way it had snapped its fearsome jaws around Griel’s robust form, almost breaking the sorcerer in half. And the way it had herded Llandry into the sky and taken her away...

  The Summoner Guild in Waeverleyne had of course been notified about the re-emergence of the draykons, though Eva suspected they hadn’t taken the tale very seriously. Well, they would now.

  She handed the paper back to Vale, working to hide her alarm. ‘I wonder if Llandry realises she’s causing a panic in her hometown,’ was all she said, in her mildest tone.

  ‘The girl should never have appeared in Waeverleyne like that,’ Vale grouched.

  ‘I imagine she wanted to see her mother.’

  ‘That could have been accomplished a little more subtly.’

  ‘I doubt she’s thinking very rationally at the moment. An experience like hers would be enough to overset the best of us, I think.’

  Vale shrugged. ‘Well, it’s too late now. That report’s all over the Seven already. The bulletins are about to broadcast an article on it - a slightly less alarmist format, of course, but there’ll be unease. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re summoned to Council tomorrow.’

  Eva sighed, exasperated. ‘I’m not on the Council anymore.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re still the only person who knows anything about this draykon resurgence. Especially if Warvel has absconded.’

  ‘I already gave the Council everything that I know.’

  Vale smiled crookedly at her. ‘We can’t get along without your counsel, it seems.’