Cyrek laughed softly at his friend. ‘We will go there tomorrow. You’ll see soon enough.’
Jemin had studied the maps in the First Daughter’s chamber and was amazed that a gateway could take them halfway round the world. He’d travelled with Seola to the sanctuary of the Dark Realm nearly fifteen years ago but that was a mere three hundred leagues at most. This journey had brought them thousands of leagues. And tomorrow they might see Dragons. Oh, Jemin had seen Dragons of course, but not this sort of Dragon.
He looked across the fire and met Cyrek’s golden eyes. Cyrek’s smile became a grin and Jemin laughed back. Cyrek could read his thoughts if he chose but he never did – he’d just known Jemin so long he knew exactly what course Jemin’s thoughts were taking.
‘Hag is close by,’ Cyrek remarked, staring to the north. ‘There is far more magic in this land itself than I expected. Hag loves magic.’
‘Yes, I wondered about that. Not that I’ve seen Hag that often.’
‘Hag is made of magical power. It is in her blood and her bone. She feeds on it, breathes it in. She thinks we don’t know, but we have always known.’
Jemin frowned. ‘If she is so full of power as you say, can she not cast great spells?’
Cyrek grunted. ‘We fear she can do terrible things but so far, the idea doesn’t seem to have occurred to her.’
‘Darkness have mercy,’ Jemin whispered in horror.
Cyrek sat awake although Jemin curled asleep near Seola and Nenat long before the moon rose.
The three were woken by Hag’s noisy arrival. ‘You come sooner than I’d thought.’ She eyed a loaf Cyrek had got from his pack. He moved it out of her reach.
‘You have approached these people?’ he asked.
‘They have the hurt one in a building set apart from that big house. I told them First Daughter was sending them help.’ Hag gaped in silent mirth. ‘They’d never heard of First Daughter. And they have no understanding of the Dark, poor fools.’
‘Well you can go and tell them we shall reach them by mid morning.’
Hag screamed in sudden temper. ‘I’m not just a messenger for your convenience. I am Anfled, Raven of Dark.’
‘And who better to convey such important information in service to the First Daughter?’ Cyrek’s tone was mild but his eyes burned hot.
Hag turned away and rose into the air. Cyrek turned at Seola’s chuckle.
‘Did you notice? That bird actually flounced.’
Nenat giggled. ‘I thought just the same.’
Cyrek shook his head. ‘There’s tea made and bread but hopefully the people will feed us when we arrive there.’
They walked through lightly wooded slopes until they reached the beginning of cultivated grounds. Trees, shrubs and clusters of flowers were pleasingly laid out amidst stretches of a short, springy turf. They came to a long oval pool with a raised edge and saw golden fish lazily finning beneath flat green leaves. A few steps further and a group of people came towards them. They halted, each party studying the other closely.
Seola stepped forward and touched her left thumb to brow, lips and chest, extending her hand palm up in a graceful sweep towards the Lady before them.
‘I am Seola, sent by the First Daughter of the Dark Realm.’
She introduced Nenat, Cyrek and Jemin. Emla was fascinated by the brilliantly golden eyes of Seola and Cyrek but Seola was as intrigued by the strangely silvered eyes of the young man at Emla’s side. Emla introduced the tall man next to her as Kemti, Shan, the young woman, armed and watchful, who stood at her shoulder.
‘Soran is Captain of my Guards,’ she told them, ‘and this is Ren, from the land of Drogoya.’
Seola looked startled at this information. ‘Forgive me if I seem impertinent, but do all citizens of Drogoya have eyes such as yours, Master Ren?’
Ren smiled. ‘I am mage trained Lady. Our eyes gradually silver around the coloured part, as our prowess increases. It is not known why this happens. May I ask a question in return?’
Seola gave a slight shrug. ‘It seems fair to me. Ask.’
‘I for my part have never seen eyes such as yours and – Cyrek, I believe? Only Kija’s eyes are of such a gold.’
‘We who are born of the Dark have eyes this colour, but we can conceal it.’ As Emla and her friends watched, Seola’s eyes darkened, changing to a deep brown. She blinked and they were gold once more. ‘There are some who find us – unsettling.’
Ren nodded sympathetically. ‘I have found the same,’ he agreed.
‘Who is Kija?’ Cyrek spoke for the first time.
‘I am Kija.’ The voice rang in their minds and a large gold scaled Dragon paced down the path towards them. ‘And I would know of this Dark Realm.’
Neither her voice nor her stance suggested friendliness and hands went to weapons, except for Cyrek. His eyes blazed and he stepped away from the gathered people. He began to walk towards the golden Dragon but on his second step his shape shimmered, blurred, expanded. There was a strong smell of burnt cinnamon and an enormous Dragon faced Kija, making her seem small by comparison.
‘Stars forfend,’ Kemti croaked.
‘Oh please be at peace.’ Lady Emla advanced with determination to stand between Kija and Cyrek. ‘Please,’ she appealed to them both. ‘Kija, they have offered help, I believe for both your son and your daughter.’
Kija, who had reared erect, slowly lowered herself, focusing entirely on Emla.
‘What did you say?’
‘Oh my dear one.’ Emla hurried closer to Kija, reaching to hold her face. ‘You have not heard of the Raven who came, telling us these people were coming to help Farn. Others are trying to rescue Tika and Sket – it seems they know where they are.’
Unnoticed, the great creature behind Emla shivered again and, in another gust of cinnamon air, transformed to the young man Cyrek. Kija lifted her head, her eyes whirring in kaleidoscopic colours as she stared at Cyrek. She lowered herself further, stretching her neck along the ground towards him. To everyone’s horror, great tears rolled down her face.
‘Forgive me Lord. Take my life if you will, but if you can help my children, I give it gladly.’
Cyrek regarded the prostrate figure impassively then walked slowly to Kija’s head. He squatted beside her, resting his left hand between her closed eyes. Those watching couldn’t hear what words he murmured but Kija raised her head until it was level with the now upright Cyrek. Cyrek nodded and moved back onto the path beside Jemin.
Emla realised she was trembling and drew several deep breaths as she rejoined Kemti. Shan’s face was white and Kemti looked nearly as shaken. Emla mustered a smile for her four guests.
‘Please come into my House. Food has been prepared for you.’ She led the way towards the broad flight of steps rising to the main doors which stood wide open. ‘Perhaps you can tell us how you travelled here – and from whence you came. I had to admit to Anfled that the Dark Realm is unknown here.’
‘Hag.’ Seola snorted. ‘I should warn you Lady Emla, Hag is not entirely trustworthy. She has been known to rephrase information and be economical with the truth. We believe she is more mischievous than wicked. Oh.’
Seola stopped and gazed round Emla’s hall. She had seen far bigger chambers in the Karmazen Palace, bigger even in Kelshan’s Citadel, but Emla’s hall, large though it was, had a comfortable air to it. Couches, armchairs, with small tables within reach, vibrant tapestries flowing down the walls and many tall narrow windows set high above head height. The floor was mostly bare wood of a pale brown but a few brilliant woven rugs were scattered around a great hearth. A long table was set to the side of a staircase, laden with many kinds of food and dishes and plates were stacked ready for use.
‘Please help yourselves to food and make yourselves comfortable.’ Emla motioned to two maids who stood behind the table. ‘There is tea, ale, wine or water,’ she added.
Nenat took only a bowl of tea before choosing an armchair for herself. Emla sat op
posite.
‘From Seola’s words, you are not from the Dark Realm?’
Nenat rubbed her forehead where the headache lingered. ‘I am from a land distant from the Realm,’ she agreed. ‘I was born with certain powers though and have spent my life travelling through many lands, offering my healing to any who ask it of me.’
‘A healer! Shan, find Nesh and ask if he could join us please.’ Emla turned back to Nenat. ‘Nesh is a Discipline Senior, the head of our school of medicine in the Asataria in Gaharn.’
Seola and Cyrek had loaded their plates and now sat together on a long couch near Emla. Jemin was still standing by the table, in conversation with Captain Soran. Emla noticed Soran seemed more animated than for days, and she hoped the young man from the Dark Realm would keep talking to him. She glanced at Seola.
‘There are many others here who I hope you will meet. We have been working in shifts to keep the Pavilion warded. We’ve tried to keep Farn asleep, but his mind has broken too far.’
Cyrek was distracted momentarily by the sight of the golden Dragon, Kija, pacing through the main doors. She moved delicately for her bulk, to recline against a wall close behind Lady Emla’s chair, her gaze fixed on Cyrek. Two men came down the stairs behind the girl Shan and strode across to Emla.
‘Ah, this is Nesh, our strongest healer.’
The tall thin man bowed slightly, studying Seola and Cyrek with the briefest of glances. He turned and smiled at Nenat, bending over her chair.
‘You are the one with the bad headache.’ He laid his hand lightly across her eyes and she sighed with relief.
‘I have never understood why we cannot banish even minor ailments from ourselves Master Nesh.’
He laughed, drawing a low stool close to her chair. ‘I’ve never worked that out either, and I am Nesh – not Master to anyone.’
Emla smiled at the other man still standing before her. ‘And this is Navan. He was with Ren and Jakri when the disaster occurred.’
Before she could say more, a crimson head and neck poked in the door. ‘Brin, come and meet our guests.’
The Dragon advanced cautiously, he’d had one or two mishaps with furniture on previous occasions, and reclined along the wall opposite Kija.
‘If you are able to help poor Farn, take whatever you wish to know from my mind.’ Brin’s voice was clear in the heads of all present but his gaze was on Seola and Cyrek.
Cyrek nodded and closed his eyes. Images tumbled through his mind. A bleak hilltop, a silver blue Dragon, frighteningly young. A girl and a man astride the Dragon’s back. Spears of ice hurtling from the sky, striking down a tall man and a woman with wild red hair. The silver blue Dragon leaped forward – and stumbled. His riders vanished and he lay and began to scream. Cyrek paled and opened his eyes. He looked at Emla.
‘What, in the name of the Dark, were they seeking?’ he whispered.
Everyone in the room had seen the memories from Brin’s mind but Emla’s people had seen them before. Seola answered Cyrek’s question.
‘Evil that was bound millennia ago,’ she said flatly. ‘How did that creature get loose?’
Emla drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘A foolish woman, a mage of Malesh, far south of here, believed she could release one of them. That she could then control it and take its power for her own. The other,’ Emla shrugged and frowned. ‘People came from beyond the stars. I don’t know what they did, but somehow they loosened the bonds on the second creature.’
Seola put her half eaten food on the small table beside her. ‘And that child thought she and a single guard could defeat such a being?’ She spoke softly, her tone incredulous. Shaking her head she asked ‘Do you know of one called Namolos?’
‘Yes.’ Navan and Ren spoke together. ‘We were told we had to reach him but then he seemed to disappear.’ Ren spread his hands helplessly.
‘How did he speak with you?’
Ren looked thoughtful. ‘Through Khosa or Grek?’
‘And they are?’
‘Grek is an unbodied spirit. He hasn’t contacted any of us since. .’
‘And Khosa?’
A small orange cat emerged from behind Nenat’s chair and leaped lightly to Lady Emla’s knee. Turquoise eyes met Seola’s. ‘I am Khosa.’
Cyrek squinted slightly. ‘You are not merely a cat,’ he observed.
To those who knew her, Khosa reaction was subdued. ‘I am only a cat now.’
‘You are a child of Namolos,’ Cyrek said in some disbelief. ‘In the name of the Dark, what have you allowed to be done to you?’
Khosa shivered. ‘Namolos foresaw some of these events and my sister and I agreed to his plans. We have endured a long, long time, and I at least have failed.’
The old herb woman, Nenat, broke the stunned silence that followed Khosa’s words. ‘We are here to try to heal the young one. Let us apply our minds and our strength to that task before we rush off in other directions.’
Slowly Seola nodded, her eyes never leaving the small cat sitting on Lady Emla’s knee.
‘I was to protect them.’ Khosa’s mind voice was a whisper and Emla’s hand lightly stroked the furry back.
A raucous shrieking erupted outside making everyone jump.
‘Hag,’ muttered Seola.
‘The gijan,’ muttered Emla.
They both hurried to the main doors, followed by all. Hag, Raven of Dark, was on the ground at the bottom of the steps, screaming with rage. Close around her fluttered three other feathered creatures. Seola and Cyrek could only stare. The three had human bodies but also bore great wings. The upper feathers of all three were the deepest blue black, but the under feathers were different. One’s were palest pink, another’s brilliant yellow, and the third’s were a soft green. They were quite clearly teasing the Raven of Dark and enjoying themselves enormously.
Navan pushed between Emla and Seola without ceremony. He clapped his hands sharply and started down the steps. ‘How dare you?’ he roared. The three faltered and moved back from the Raven, their expressions now guilty rather than amused.
Raven stretched her wings and shot skywards, imprecations trailing almost visibly behind her.
‘That Raven was a guest in lady Emla’s House,’ Navan continued in a roar. He’d found it extremely effective when dealing with these three. Feathers rustled and wings folded close to backs.
‘Sorry Navan.’
For the first time they seemed to notice the crowd staring from the top of the steps and all three looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Emla cleared her throat. ‘Well now,’ she said brightly. ‘Allow me to introduce the gijan: Leaf, Willow, and Piper.’
Chapter Seven
Seola asked for a quiet place where she and Nenat might rest and begin to focus their thoughts on the attempted healing which lay ahead of them. After a brief word with Cyrek, Jemin vanished to the barracks with Captain Soran. Cyrek went outside with Ren to watch Navan’s continuing tirade at the three gijan. Cyrek offered no comment but Ren had the sense that the Dark Lord knew much more than appeared to be the case. Navan finally wound down and dismissed the gijan with strict instructions to behave and to stay close to the House. He waited until they’d gone out of sight and turned to Ren and Cyrek with a rueful grimace.
‘It’s the only way to treat them every now and then, but they’re good hearted enough I think.’
Ren pursed his lips. ‘Which is more than I could say about their Elders.’
Cyrek quirked an eyebrow but people began emerging from the House, forestalling further conversation. The healer Nesh walked between Seola and Nenat, slightly behind Lady Emla. They passed through some glossy shrubbery and rounded a corner. Ahead stood a Pavilion. Kija and Brin reclined on the grass and a much smaller, smoky grey Dragon lay by Brin, watching the people approach. As they passed the Dragons, Cyrek paused and looked across at the grey Dragon.
‘That’s Storm, Lord Cyrek,’ Navan murmured. ‘He is Farn’s great friend. He finds this situation
very hard to bear.’
Cyrek went closer and Storm reared back, pushing himself onto his haunches, eyes whirring. Cyrek touched the young sea Dragon gently between the eyes, as he had touched Kija. He spoke in a low voice and Storm lowered himself to the ground again, his eyes slowing their dizzying spin. No one had yet spoken of Cyrek’s terrifying transformation when he faced Kija earlier, but all had understood it had been a statement of power. Seola halted some distance from the Pavilion’s closed doors. She glanced around.
‘If it is agreeable, I will see how far he has gone.’
Nesh looked worried but Nenat nodded. ‘I will accompany you,’ she said firmly.
But Seola had frozen, aware of a sudden surge of power close by. Cyrek felt it too. Their heads snapped to the left where they could just see another roof line above low flowering trees. They both turned sharply to Emla.
‘What is that building?’ Seola asked, her tone stern.
Emla was nonplussed but as she began to explain it was merely another Pavilion, a bell chimed twice.
‘Oh.’ Emla bit her lip. ‘It holds the circle. Someone or something has just come through.’
Two guards appeared as she spoke, escorting a man and a woman.
‘Thryssa!’ Emla exclaimed. ‘And Kwanzi! But why are you here? Tell me there’s nothing amiss in Vagrantia?’
‘No my dear.’ The couple had reached Emla and both embraced her with obvious affection. ‘Your last message spoke of help for Farn. We could do nothing less than offer any support you may need.’
The woman smiled, then she saw Seola and Cyrek standing motionless, their eyes gold as sunlight. The High Speaker of Vagrantia was rarely lost for words and she wasn’t now. Her smile didn’t falter as Emla hurried to make introductions. Her husband, Kwanzi, slid his hand under Thryssa’s elbow and bowed.
‘I am a healer,’ he said. ‘If you need to take strength, mine is yours as you have need.’
Seola frowned. ‘I’m not sure I follow?’
‘Those of us blessed with the ability to reach power, often share our strength. One healer may actually tend a patient but he or she can draw on the strength of others if they are willing.’ His brown eyes twinkled. ‘The Dragons have immense reserves of strength; they have helped us on several occasions when our talent was insufficient.’
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 8