Eva came running up, yelling something. Serena was by no means ignorant in the matter of languages; she spoke Nimdren fluently in addition to her native language, and she was proficient in Glinnish and two of the Darklander tongues as well. But whatever Eva was saying was like nothing she’d ever heard before, and the sounds were completely alien to Serena’s ears.
They appeared to have some kind of an effect upon the draykoni, for the subtle menace to their movements faded. They continued to circle, but with a fluid grace which spoke of a relaxed state of mind to Serena’s eyes, and she relaxed herself a little bit.
But only for an instant, for one of them suddenly flew directly at the ship at some speed. Serena jumped, heart pounding, and tried to scramble backwards; a futile instinct, for where was she going to go? But there was no juddering impact, no attack whatsoever. In the blink of an eye, the vast draykon with the glittering, deep purple scales vanished and a human woman fell, rolling expertly, onto the deck. She wore a set of slim eyeglasses like Eva’s, proclaiming her Darklander heritage. Her dark curls were bound back into a neat ponytail, and her clothing was as purple as the scales of her draykoni form.
And she was known to Eva, apparently, for her ladyship went flying forward and wrapped the woman in a huge embrace. ‘Avane!’
The woman, Avane, returned the salutation with every bit as much enthusiasm, and repeated this ritual with Tren, who had by this time joined the party. The three fell instantly into animated conversation. They were speaking some bizarre mixture of Darklander tongues with some of those strange words Eva had used mixed in — were they a draykoni language? They were also speaking at such speed that Serena couldn’t follow most of it, but she picked up a few words. Avane and her friend were on patrol duty today, she guessed, and they’d come to investigate the airship that had wandered so close to the Orlindian border. There followed a lot of irrelevant conversation, principally relating to people called Lyerd and Ori. After a while, Serena tuned this out.
Eventually the conversation was over. Avane ended with, ‘And you know they would love to see you,’ or something like that. Eva turned back to her airship companions — forgotten for the past several minutes — and made an “everything is fine” gesture.
‘It’s safe,’ she announced unnecessarily. ‘These are friends, and we can safely go into Orlind.’
Serena, Fabian, the Baron, the pilot, Wrob and Ayra remained in their nice, secure knot of human flesh, and nobody moved.
‘We aren’t going to die!’ insisted Eva. ‘Honestly! I don’t yet understand what they’ve done or how, but Orlind’s different. We can fly there.’
‘What about the peak, and the Dream?’ demanded Anserval, drawing himself up. ‘After all,’ he added pompously, ‘that is why we are here, and it is just a little bit pressing, don’t you think?’
Eva, Tren and Avane all turned identical contemptuous stares upon Anserval, who seemed oblivious to this derision. ‘We may be able to help you with that,’ said Avane coolly. Her tone implied an addendum: ‘If you aren’t too obnoxious.’
Anserval looked as though he wanted to object further, but he was caught and he knew it. Their attempts to reach the peak unaided had utterly failed, and had, moreover, brought both ship and passengers into danger. He disliked the feeling that the direction and control of the airship had been wrested from him, though everyone else had known from the beginning that Eva was in charge. Serena watched with mildly vindictive amusement as he struggled, and finally capitulated.
‘Very well,’ he said grandly. ‘Perhaps we may visit Orlind for a little while. Not too long, mind! We have an important task here!’
Avane turned her back on him without comment. She seemed to have got his measure very quickly; either she was very observant indeed, or Eva and Tren had forewarned her about the Baron somewhere during that hasty conversation. These reflections left Serena’s mind in an instant as Avane ran towards the rail, vaulted over it and disappeared into thin air.
‘Wha — what did she—?’ Serena spluttered, and ran to look. Could she shapeshift in mid-air like that? She could, apparently, for there was the dark purple draykon some way below, turning a playful somersault in the air.
Serena turned to find Eva and Tren behind her, a strange smile curving Eva’s lips. ‘She’s gained confidence, wouldn’t you say?’ she murmured to her husband.
‘Marvellously,’ he agreed.
Serena looked for Fabian, and found him still standing with Wrob, Ayra and the pilot whose name Serena still hadn’t caught. They were discussing something earnestly, or three of them were; Fabian stood ostensibly listening, but Serena recognised the look on his face. He wasn’t paying all that much attention. Even the prospect of seeing the mythical Orlind — a prospect which thrilled her to no end — couldn’t interest him much compared with the prospect of revenge.
She sighed, and turned away.
Chapter Thirteen
Jisp was in love.
Iyamar’s Jisp-a-like form had been attractive, undoubtedly, but Jisp’s response to it seemed far out of all proportion to Teyo. The little orange creature had taken to following Iya around, mewling plaintively, until Iya gave up and shapeshifted. Jisp’s extreme joy on beholding the object of her affection fell somewhere between heart-warming and befuddling, Teyo felt, with some annoyance. After all, he and Jisp had been friends for a long time and she’d never felt that way about him. (Not that he wanted her to; that would be awkward. But still).
Iyamar didn’t seem to mind, and since they were both ladies, there was no chance of a litter of tiny Jisps arriving anytime soon. Teyo hoped that it would help Iya grow more comfortable with her shapeshifter abilities, and so he let it be, content to watch Jisp’s lovesick antics with tolerant amusement.
Until Jisp began with the poetry.
To the Glory of Thy Tail was the title of the first one. Jisp shyly approached Iyamar when she was looking particularly lizardly and gorgeous, her scales pearly white and shining gloriously. Jisp dropped a mouthful of bright red berries before her, and announced the title of her composition. Then she lifted her tiny head and began:
Your tail is so long,
So very long,
And so scaly.
She paused for a response, radiating hope.
There was a long silence. Teyo sensed confusion, embarrassment and amusement from Iyamar, all of which he hoped she was managing to hide from Jisp. She made an encouraging noise and Jisp, blazing happiness, continued.
There is nothing so pearly
as your scales
which are...
Jisp paused grandly.
Pearlier than pearls.
That appeared to be the end, for Jisp sat back on her haunches, beaming a lizard-grin, and gazed adoringly at Iyamar.
Iyamar flailed. That was... she began.
Jisp beamed yet more widely.
Amazing, finished Iya weakly. This feeble praise appeared to satisfy Jisp, for she hurled herself at her friend and rubbed her tiny body all down the length of Iyamar’s, quivering with pleasure.
Teyo felt an almost insurmountable desire to laugh. He was obliged to cough hard to dispel the feeling, which sent a gust over his worktable and propelled bits of drying clay all over the polished wooden floor. Oops. He’d made an appalling mess of the parlour with his new project, which he’d better clean up before Egg saw it. Considering her foul mouth, raging temper and total indifference to attire or trinkets it seemed out of place, but she was a stickler for cleanliness, and insisted on perfect neatness in their abode at all times.
He surveyed the object he’d made with a critical eye. It wasn’t a bad piece of work, actually, which relieved him somewhat, as he hadn’t worked with stone or clay in some years. He picked up a tiny brush and carefully applied a little more paint. There, finished. Hastily — noting in passing that Iya and Jisp were now curled up together in the crook of an armchair, whispering about something — he began to sweep up the clay.
Not fast en
ough. The front door slammed and three seconds later Egg came stamping in like a little whirlwind, shivering theatrically and rubbing her arms.
‘It’s damned cold out there!’ she announced, then stopped dead. ‘What’s all this crap?’
‘Soon to be taking up its new residence in the bin,’ Teyo said in a soothing voice. ‘Pretend it never happened.’
Egg aimed a kick at his side, which thankfully she did not quite land. She tended to wear enormous boots with steel in the toes, which his ribs fervently objected to.
She might have said something else — something rude, most likely, and loudly voiced — but her eye fell on the Jisp-and-Iyamar snuggle that was still ongoing in the armchair and she stopped, mouth open.
‘You know,’ she said after a moment, her eyes narrowing, ‘for a girl who screamed blue bloody murder at the prospect of having to shapeshift, she’s sure doing a lot of it lately.’
Regretting his undignified posture upon the floor more with every moment, Teyo tried to catch her eye to deliver a warning look, but she wouldn’t look at him. ‘Yes, Egg,’ he said, busily sweeping, ‘isn’t it great?’
Egg smirked. ‘Very touching.’ Teyo stood up just in time to witness her rolling her eyes expressively and turning her back on the cute couple.
Iyamar chose that moment to disentangle herself and run down the arm of the chair, gaining the floor just as Egg reached the doorway. In a flash she was human again. ‘Hey!’ she yelled after Egg. ‘Jisp’s much nicer than you!’
Egg cast her a withering look over her shoulder. ‘Everyone’s nicer than me, darling,’ she retorted, and wandered off.
Iyamar turned to Teyo and shrugged. The gesture was nonchalant, but Teyo thought she looked a little injured. He paused to think for a moment, stretching his back (ever since he’d turned forty, aches and pains had seemed to develop much faster than he could like or approve of).
‘The shifting’s coming along nicely,’ he offered with a smile.
Iyamar’s face instantly transformed into enthusiasm, followed by trepidation. She could be deadpan when she needed to be, but when she wasn’t trying, her every thought was lamentably obvious, prominently displayed upon her pale face. That was youthful enthusiasm for you, Teyo thought with a pang of regret. He couldn’t ever remember being that excitable.
‘Only the smaller things, though,’ Iyamar cautioned. ‘I mean, nothing that would — nothing that’s likely to — just the little ones.’
Teyo unravelled this incoherent speech without much difficulty. ‘Still not ready to try your drayk again, then?’ he enquired.
Iyamar shook her head vehemently. ‘No!’
‘But,’ Teyo said carefully, doing his best not to look confrontational, ‘you used it when we first met you. On the road? When you held up the carriage?’
Iyamar flushed miserably. ‘Not deliberately.’
‘Ohh.’ Teyo took a step back.
‘It happens when I panic, sometimes,’ she continued in a tiny voice.
‘Shapeshift?’
‘Yeah.’ She shuffled her feet, staring at the floor. ‘It all went wrong, and I was hungry and I had nowhere to sleep and the carriage was about to leave and... I panicked.’
Teyo felt a stab of sympathy at this speech. He hadn’t been certain what to make of Iyamar’s ill-fated hold-up, though as he had got to know her better, he’d felt reasonably sure that she had been driven to it out of desperation rather than thrill-seeking or anything else so daft. He’d been right. He didn’t like to think of such a young person homeless and hungry like that, especially if it had come about because other people hadn’t liked her draykon heritage.
‘That’s why you didn’t attack the carriage,’ Teyo said in sudden realisation. ‘I wondered about that.’
‘Right.’ Iyamar sighed. ‘I was busy trying to turn back into... me.’ She fell silent, frowning, and Teyo waited for more. Nothing else followed.
‘We can talk about it later,’ he offered, when her discomfort didn’t abate.
‘Sorry,’ Iya muttered, and slunk away.
Watching her go, Teyo found himself thinking of the fit of panic she’d had when he had first tried to encourage her to shapeshift. She was prone to panic, it seemed, which was a shame; once she calmed down and thought things through, she had considerable strength and talent. Had he ever got so worked up about things in his own youth? It seemed a very long time ago — it was a pretty long time ago — but he had. Oh, certainly. He had far, far outdone Iyamar in overreacting, although a small part of his mind still insisted that he hadn’t been overreacting at all. Not one bit.
At her age, he’d been a moderately prosperous stonemason’s apprentice. His father had been the mason, and Teyo had begun learning the trade at the age of ten. By the time his seventeenth year rolled around, he was fairly skilled and beginning to take on jobs for his father’s business. Then everything had changed, and Teyo had... lost it, for a while. For a long while.
He still didn’t like to think about it. Stooping carefully, he picked up a final, stray piece of clay that he’d missed and added it to the dustpan he held in his hand. He went to the bin, emptied the pan into it and mentally threw all thoughts of his past transgressions away along with the clay dust. Then he retrieved his coat, stepped out of the door and wandered back to the city square to check the boards again.
It was two days later when the knock finally came at the door to their quiet apartment.
‘Finally,’ muttered Teyo, which earned him matching enquiring looks from Egg and Iyamar. He ignored these. The two of them had commandeered the parlour table and Egg was showing Iya how to make a simple wig. He wasn’t sure why. Iya had taken to the project with surprising enthusiasm, showing an equally surprising creative flair — if slightly questionable taste along with it. The wig she was making was rainbow coloured and covered in glass jewels. It was a little garish to his eye, but Iya clearly loved it. So, more curiously, did Egg. They were getting along comfortably enough, with only a little sniping and grouching from time to time, so Teyo didn’t interfere.
He gestured to them to remain seated and went to the door alone, dusting off the front of his jacket as he went. He’d managed to pick up some clay dust and hadn’t even noticed until now. Pausing before the door, he took a moment to cross his fingers, both literally and mentally.
He opened the door.
Ylona Duna really was an extremely handsome woman, he thought upon beholding her again. So was Lady Glostrum. Was it the Lokant heritage? They had such regal bearing, such lustrous, snowy hair, and such stupendous figures. Teyo gazed at her in silence for a moment, frowning slightly, but abandoned the train of thought. With a sample size of two, it was impossible to draw any useful conclusions. No, three! He mentally factored Halavere Morann into his thinking, which did no harm to his theory whatsoever.
Ylona returned his stare with one every bit as measuring, and smiled. ‘Hello,’ she said in a pleasingly low, smooth voice. ‘I believe you have my stones.’
Teyo smiled back. ‘I own a stone or two, I think.’
Ylona leaned against the door frame, hands in her pockets, and surveyed him a little more. Well, Teyo could match her for nonchalance. He stuck his hands into his own pockets, fixed a pleasantly vague smile upon his face and waited.
‘This big, dumb routine,’ said Ylona after a moment. ‘It’s well-practiced, I’ll give you that, but I don’t believe it.’ Her accent was enthralling, Teyo decided, and instantly resolved on prolonging their conversation for as long as possible.
He widened his smile and his eyes, and said nothing.
Ylona’s smile twisted. ‘Good, yes, but it is a waste of my time. Where are my stones? Hand them over and we can all go back to our lives.’
Teyo shrugged. ‘I don’t have them.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Is that a lie?’
Teyo felt a whisper of compulsion begin to bear down upon him. It began as an echo of that he had felt when Lady Glostrum had rescued Iyamar from
her involuntary shapeshift, though it swiftly grew much, much stronger. ‘No,’ he managed to say, thankful that it happened to be the truth.
‘Hand them over,’ she said again, and this time it bore the full force of a Lokant’s will behind it. She was as powerful as Lady Glostrum, easily. Perhaps more so.
Teyo’s right hand emerged, involuntarily, from the pocket of his trousers and plunged instead into the pocket of his jacket. His fingers closed around the little round stone that lay there and he brought it out to show her. It was black, veined with silver and white, and it felt warm in his hand.
Ylona took it immediately. ‘And the other one,’ she ordered.
Teyo’s left hand repeated the same process and, shaking with the effort to resist, it obligingly handed over a cream stone threaded with gold. Ylona rewarded him with a cool smile and a murmur of thanks, which intrigued him. Why bother to be polite when she had forced his compliance in the first place?
‘Your team is very good,’ she said as she turned away. ‘My compliments.’
Well, that was nice. Teyo tried not to stare at her backside as she walked away, and mostly failed. He would get used to women wearing trousers someday, he supposed, but it might take a little time.
He went back inside and shut the door.
‘What the hell was that?’ Egg demanded as he joined his companions.
‘Ylona came for the stones.’
‘I gathered.’ She was on her feet, arms folded, staring at him in undisguised disgust. ‘And you just let her have them?’
‘I was compelled!’
‘Uh huh.’ Egg looked him up and down, frowning. ‘Why aren’t you more upset? Serena’s going to kill you. Actually, she’ll kill all of us.’
Iyamar was laughing. ‘Egg, if you hadn’t been so annoyed about all that clay everywhere you’d know why he’s not upset.’
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