Llandry

by Charlotte E. English

  Ori gave me a mental hug and did a spiralling tumble in the air for my amusement. I recognised it as a challenge, one which I took great delight in accepting, until it occurred to me how childish we were being.

  We have work to do! I reminded him severely.

  Ori waggled his wings at me with cheeky insouciance and soared ahead. In an instant he had flashed through the veil into the Seven, and I followed.

  I did not relish the prospect of extending my sojourn in the eternal darks, but that could not be helped. I am a little bit proud of myself for having coped with it so competently through our visit to Avane, in spite of the horrors we found in Ayrien. If I could do that, I knew I could survive another day or two in Glour. And the moon is approaching full, which means two things: firstly that the light is growing stronger, so the darkness is not so all-encompassing. Secondly, the Glour market runs every full moon, and unless I miss my guess, that should be in about three days’ time.

  26 VII

  Old Friends, New… Stalkers?

  I am becoming a big supporter of killing multiple birds with one stone, or in less gruesome terms, efficiency. My mother has been a member of Glinnery’s ruling council for some years, and at last I am gaining some insight into what kind of a life it must have been for her. Hassle! Stress! Trying to do eighteen things at once! I can only add… how does she cope? And Lady Glostrum! Even worse, for she is an aristocrat and a social leader, the kind whose every move is followed by reporters eager to plaster her picture all over the bulletin boards. She was also the High Summoner for a long time, which must be a hectic job, and these days she has taken a leading role in establishing a training system for the partial Lokants of the Seven. She manages it all with a kind of easy serenity which I find enviable, and I can only hope I will be capable of the same in time.

  Ori and I travelled to the outskirts of Glour City on the wing and then Changed human for the journey into the centre, preferring not to alarm the good citizens of Glour by flying over their heads. Happily for us, they have invested much more heavily in transport than we have in Glinnery, probably because they lack wings. We were able to hire a smart cabriolet to take us to Lady Glostrum’s handsome townhouse. We regretted this when we discovered how difficult it is to fit our wings into a smart cabriolet. They are really not designed for it.

  I have been to Lady Glostrum’s mansion but once before, and have yet to grow accustomed to its size and grandeur. Ori and I stood for a moment on the doorstep, staring up at the building in awe. Its multiple storeys disappeared into the darkness some way above our heads, so I could not even tell how many there were.

  ‘Huh,’ I said, intelligently.

  Ori nodded. ‘What can a single person want with all of this?’

  I could only shrug. These grand stone buildings are so different from the glissenwol-tree dwellings I am used to. I cannot begin to imagine what Eva does with all these rooms.

  Ori rapped upon the door. Nothing happened, so he repeated the gesture with more force. I winced as three deep, tearing booms split the night, fearing that the stout door might buckle beneath his enthusiasm.

  ‘Easy,’ I murmured, as he drew back his fist to strike again.

  He stopped at my words, which was fortunate because at that moment the door opened and a gentleman in a dark suit appeared.

  ‘Hello,’ said Ori brightly. ‘We’re here to see her ladyship.’

  The man stared at us with palpable disapproval. ‘You will find the doorbell more than sufficient for your needs,’ he informed us.

  Ori and I exchanged a mystified look.

  ‘Doorbell?’ I repeated.

  The man extended one long finger to point at a button set into the wall beside the door. Ori, of course, could not resist pressing it immediately, his face brightening with delight as a melodic chime promptly echoed from within the house.

  ‘Marvellous contraption!’ he enthused.

  He received in response a stiff bow. I began to dislike the supercilious fellow, until I noticed the faintest hint of an amused smile hovering about his mouth.

  ‘Her ladyship is not at home to callers at this hour,’ he informed us.

  I interpreted that to mean that Eva was busy, and disinclined to grant admittance to all and sundry who might chance to show up at her door, many of whom would be reporters hoping for a snippet of news. I also gathered that this servant of hers was unaware of our identities. Apparently, getting past him was going to be our first hurdle.

  Heaving an inward sigh, I steeled myself and stood a little taller. ‘Please inform her ladyship that the Lord and Lady Draykon of Glinnery are here upon urgent business,’ I said, trying to sound authoritative and not as though I felt like a child playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Which I did. I mean... goodness, what a silly and overblown title!

  But I had judged my strategy correctly, for the names impressed the keeper of Eva’s door. He bowed to us lower than he had before and stepped back, inviting us inside. ‘If your lord and ladyship would be pleased to wait in the first parlour?’ he inquired. ‘I will see if her ladyship is available.’

  We followed the old gentleman into a sumptuously decorated sitting room, and were promptly left there as he withdrew, hopefully to summon Eva. Helpfully, he lit a light-globe before he departed, and the soft, dimly shining orb followed us around as we wandered through the room.

  ‘The first parlour?’ Ori said, looking around in amazement. ‘How many more do you suppose there are?’

  ‘Oh, doubtless dozens and dozens,’ I said. ‘But only think! The honour of being brought to the first parlour in rank, instead of something so ignoble as the eighteenth! We are very important people, you know.’

  Ori grinned and dropped into the plush embrace of a handsome chaise longue. He lay there whistling something jaunty, annoyingly at his ease. I, meanwhile, stood awkwardly near the door. For all my joking words I felt badly out of place, and half expected to be tossed out again at any moment. The luxuries of Eva’s lifestyle can be awfully intimidating.

  When the door opened, however, it was not Eva who appeared, or even the imposing answerer of the front door. Tren came in, or Mr. Pitren Warvel, to use his full name — supposing he would allow it. He gave us such a delighted smile of welcome that I immediately felt more at ease, and he came to greet us in the friendliest fashion. I received a swift hug, and Ori a very cordial handshake.

  ‘What a wonderful surprise!’ he said. ‘We had no thoughts of seeing you for some time. I hope you aren’t too tired from the journey? Did Hayes offer you refreshments?’

  Tren is Eva’s betrothed, and one of my favourite people. He has the ability to make anybody feel at ease with only a smile and a few words. He is about five or six years older than me, though he acts with a degree of easy self-assurance it will take me another couple of decades to develop. He disappeared for a moment, but swiftly returned with the news that luncheon had been ordered. ‘Eva’s on her way,’ he promised. ‘She’s got the co-ordinator with her. Goodness only knows what they’ve been talking about all this time. It’s been three hours.’ He flashed his mischievous grin.

  ‘Co-ordinator?’ I echoed. ‘Of what?’

  ‘Oh! Sorry, I forget. It’s about the wedding.’ His smile turned sheepish. ‘It’s to be a grand affair, of course. So much so that Eva needs an entire separate person just to manage the planning.’

  The lady herself arrived just as he said this, and responded by sticking her tongue out at him. Her ladyship, Evastany Glostrum, is as stately and imposing as her house when she wants to be, and I have never before seen her behave with such joyous childishness. It must be Tren’s influence. I think she and Tren are a perfect couple.

  ‘You would not wish for me to deal with it,’ she informed him. ‘You wouldn’t see me for weeks.’

  Tren could only nod with rueful agreement as Eva turned to us, and engulfed me in a scented embrace. Today she was wearing a heavy emerald velvet gown with jewelled trim, her white hair swept up in
combs. She looked like a queen.

  I seem to have been hugged a lot lately. I do not mind, though it is not my usual habit to be so physically affectionate. In Eva’s case I particularly appreciated it, for it swept away in one instant all the awkwardness inspired by the extreme luxury of her lifestyle, and all the reminders it brought of her impossibly high status. I felt that we were friends and allies again, as we had been before.

  She bestowed the same salutation upon Ori, then swept the lot of us away to the dining room. Her cook had worked with remarkable speed to produce a luncheon for four... hundred, I suppose? The huge table was groaning with dishes, a situation Eva waved away with a laugh.

  ‘I said we had hungry people to feed,’ Tren said, eyeing the feast dubiously. ‘I did not mean to imply that we had an army in here.’

  We ate, and we talked. It was a shame to ruin the buoyant mood with the kind of news we had to impart, but it was necessary to do so without much delay. I could see that Eva was allotting as much time to us as she could, but her life would soon carry her away once more.

  ‘I have never heard of such a thing before,’ Eva confirmed once Ori and I had finished our tale. It was only what I had expected her to say, but still, I was disappointed. I suppose I had secretly hoped I had been wrong about the likelihood of her knowing something about it.

  ‘I never heard it mentioned at the Libraries,’ she continued, her meal forgotten as she bent her intellectual powers to the problem. ‘Which is not to say that they don’t know anything about it. Hmm.’

  ‘I was wondering if there is a way back to Limbane’s Library,’ I ventured. ‘If we could consult the draykon bloodlines he has there, it could be of use to us. I would like to find out if there is any obvious link between the three victims we have identified.’

  ‘He might have books, too,’ Ori put in.

  ‘A sound idea, but not one I can assist you with at present,’ Eva said, to my disappointment. ‘I have no way to return to that Library, nor any way to contact Limbane or Andraly.’ She sighed, looking chagrined. ‘Perhaps I should not have broken off all contact the way I did. I fear I may have lost my temper a little.’

  ‘Of course, there is the Secret Library.’ Tren said this almost absently, his attention fixed upon his food. I got the impression that he was carefully refraining from looking at Eva.

  Eva’s chagrin grew, and she cast a swift look of censure at Tren, who serenely ignored it.

  ‘Dare I ask?’ I said.

  Eva’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment I thought she would refuse to respond. But at last she shrugged and said, ‘Oh, very well. The Secret Library, as Tren likes to call it, is my... stash.’

  ‘Of books,’ elaborated Tren. ‘Thieved books.’ He said this with an impish smile at his betrothed.

  Eva drew herself up. ‘They are not stolen,’ she said loftily. ‘They belong to me.’

  ‘Which books?’ said Ori, pushing away his plate. He had eaten enough food for about five men and looked beamingly replete. ‘Tell us, tell us.’

  Tren directed his most charming smile at Eva, who withstood it for all of two seconds before she visibly gave up. ‘There was a time when I had unlimited access to Limbane’s Library, and a fair amount of freedom to wander it at will. And to come and go, which proved a useful combination. I... may have had a few titles copied.’

  ‘A few,’ agreed Tren, nodding wisely. ‘One or two. A scant handful. Nothing much to signify.’

  ‘Thirty-seven,’ said Eva.

  This was more promising! ‘On which topics?’ I said quickly.

  ‘Draykon and Lokant history. The Library of Orlind, with some original accounts. A couple of theoretical texts on the nature and workings of the Libraries. One or two language primers and dictionaries.’ She smiled at me, and before I could speak she said: ‘Yes, you may certainly borrow any that might prove relevant.’

  It’s hard not to love Eva.

  She was lost in thought for some time after that, a process I was careful not to disturb, for perhaps she was thinking over the problem I had set before her and might yet come up with something useful. I chatted with Tren and Ori — or to be fair I listened while they chatted. Which they did, at some length, mostly about the differences and similarities between Sorcerer and Summoner training and how the two programmes might be combined. It was interesting enough, but I suppose I was only half listening.

  ‘Llan,’ said Eva suddenly, about quarter of an hour later. ‘Do you remember when we were at Limbane’s Library, and he was telling us about the history of the draykoni?’

  I did, of course. We learned a great deal that day. But I did not remember in all that much detail, for I have never had that kind of absorbent memory. So I nodded cautiously, and awaited elucidation.

  ‘Do you remember what Limbane said, when he talked of how they die, and can be revived?’

  ‘Specifically?’ I said. ‘No.’

  Eva pondered. ‘I may be wrong, but I believe he said it is almost impossible to kill a draykon.’

  ‘He said: Their consciousness is almost impossible to entirely extinguish,’ supplied Tren, who apparently does have that enviable memory which retains things once heard, and regurgitates them at need.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ said Eva. ‘Exactly. Do you not think that almost might be a little bit significant?’

  Of course I did! Almost? That detail had not been relevant at the time, or perhaps I might have recalled it myself. ‘Do you think he knew of a way?’

  Eva pursed her lips. ‘It is hard to be sure, but why else would he say such a thing?’

  ‘I need to talk to him,’ I said at once.

  But Eva shook her head. ‘I wish I could help you there, but who knows where he is now? I have no way to contact him, anymore.’

  Curses to that. Limbane is no doubt far Off-World and beyond our reach.

  Unless, of course, he has been here, killing off draykoni. The idea seems ludicrously far-fetched. He, or his colleagues, created my people in the first place. Why would he now be running about killing them off? Why would any Lokant? And how much reliance could we place on that almost, anyway? Perhaps it was just a figure of speech, a scholar’s unwillingness to declare anything altogether impossible.

  But it was a hint, and a thought, and that was more than we’d had before.

  We were given rooms at Eva’s house for as long as we could require them, but as predicted we did not see a great deal more of Eva herself. It wasn’t just wedding business that kept her occupied. As near as I could tell, she seemed to be in the middle of half a dozen projects, both personal and professional, and there were several other claims upon her time. I wanted to hear more about the new Lokant heritage training programme she was setting up with Tren, but there was little time to discuss it, and our own business naturally had to take precedence. Perhaps next time.

  Anyway, Ori and I contrived to pin her down about the prospect of a trade deal for our litorn mushrooms, and she promised to look into it. Then the Darklands Market rolled over Glour City, and we were free to explore it at our leisure.

  I did so with mixed feelings. Oh, the market is undeniably marvellous, no doubt about that. Its name derives from the fact that it is the biggest of its kind in the three Darklands realms, and possibly in the whole of the Seven. Daylanders regularly cross the borders to browse its wares, undeterred by the darkness and the bustle. Ma and I used to visit almost every moon when I was a child, and as such it is a source of nostalgia for me. You can buy practically anything there, if you can bear the tumultuous crowds for long enough to visit all of the stalls. Which I, usually, cannot.

  That is one of its drawbacks. In the past year, it has also become the site of some uncomfortable remembrances. I held my first stall here a few moons ago, selling the jewellery that used to be my trade before my life was turned upside down. Those jewels and the stones I was using at the time… well, they were the source of all the trouble since. You could say the Darklands Market is where it all starte
d. And since a number of my customers from that fateful day ended up dead because they bought my jewellery, I cannot help feeling more than a little… guilty.

  I therefore roamed the market with some feelings of distress, at least at first. But it is difficult to feel negative about anything for long when you have Ori by your side. Bright, cheerful and mindful of my state of mind without being obvious about it, he soon buoyed my flagging spirits, and we began to enjoy ourselves. The market’s a beautiful site, irrespective of its wares. They set the softest, most dulcet light-globes floating over the stalls, and they look like stars brought almost close enough to touch. Everywhere is colour and vibrancy, and there is an atmosphere of merriment and excitement which cannot help but lift the spirits.

  Ori and I devoted ourselves to finding the seed stock for Ivi, which took us over an hour to accomplish. That done, we roamed at will, and contrived to find gifts for our friends. I bought new, sturdy gloves for Ivi; a bag full of colourful fabric scraps for Loret and Damosel; a notebook for Larion; and for Meriall I found a tiny brooch in the shape of a winged irilapter, its colours marked out in bright enamels.

  Ori rounded out our purchases with pots of spices for Liat, a soft velvet hat for Sophronia, and a box of sweets for Nyden. We were probably more delighted with our purchases than their recipients would be. Shopping for others is so much more delicious than shopping for oneself, after all. I remember that evening with fondness, for all that it was but two days ago. Looking back on it now, it feels like a last interlude of cheery normality, soon to be swept away by chaos.

  And swiftly it began. We were packing Nyden’s sweets into Ori’s backpack when my draykon senses prickled. I had been ignoring them all evening, for if I had paid them much attention, I would soon have been swamped by a relentless onslaught of information. There were simply far too many people around for them to be useful. Indeed, those crowds could still rattle me more than I like to admit, with or without my extra insights, and the only way I could enjoy myself under those conditions was to block out everything that was not directly relevant.