As such, being so abruptly recalled to an awareness of my surroundings was jarring. Suddenly conscious of every one of the masses of strangers crowding around me, I succumbed for a moment to heart-pounding panic. It took me a few moments and several deep breaths to smother the feeling, and focus. What had distracted me?
I searched the people around us, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shoppers and browsers, all ordinary folk, and nobody seemed to be paying the slightest attention to Ori or me.
But I felt something amiss. There: behind me. A whisper of something… not human.
I whirled, my eyes straining to see far enough into the darkness.
Somebody was just turning away, on the verge of disappearing into the crowds, but I got the distinct impression that this person had been staring directly at me only moments before. I could tell little about the figure, not even its gender, for the person wore a cloak which concealed every defining feature beneath the folds of its heavy fabric. All I could tell was the colour of the cloak, for it shone briefly red in the soft glow of a light-globe as its owner walked away.
I tried to follow, but the press of people around me was too intense and I soon lost sight of the cloaked figure. So I stopped, closed my eyes, and attempted to follow the person with my other senses instead.
‘Llan?’ said Ori. I realised he had been trying to get my attention for a little while, and I had not heard him.
‘Shh,’ I said quickly. ‘Just a moment.’ Ori fell silent, and I focused.
Not human. Definitely not that. And not draykoni, either. I experienced the departing figure like a tiny mote of light in the midst of an ocean of similar motes, although it is not really light at all. That is the best way I can find to describe it. The vast majority of the lights were human: earthy or shadowy in hue and atmosphere, shot through with vivid colour and radiating warmth. The figure I followed was paler, cooler and… older. And I will say one other thing. I cannot be certain, for my eyes often betray me in the low light of the Darklands and it is easy to become confused. But I saw a wisp of hair from beneath the drawn-up scarlet hood, and I could swear that it was pure white.
A Lokant?
I stopped still, puzzled, disoriented and uneasy, for I have experienced a similar scene before. At that time I was in Nimdre with Devary, browsing a market not wholly unlike this one, when I ran into a white-haired partial Lokant who took a worrying degree of interest in the necklace I was wearing at the time. It did not end especially well. And now again: a market, and a Lokant with too much interest in me.
‘We were being watched, I think,’ I said to Ori. ‘By a Lokant, who departed as soon as I turned around.’
Ori frowned, and said nothing. I knew he would be sweeping his own senses through the crowds, searching for the person I described. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘Not entirely. But I felt that we were being observed, and I saw somebody with a Lokant aura leave the moment I turned.’
‘Full or partial?’ he said quickly.
‘It’s not always easy to tell.’ And that is the truth, for a strong partial Lokant like Eva can feel very much like a full-blood, as far as my perceptions are concerned. ‘But I would say full-blood, with some confidence.’
Ori nodded, his frown deepening. Partial Lokants are uncommon in the Seven, but full Lokants are virtually unheard of. I do not think any actually live in our world, nor have they for ages past. They live way Off-World, in their own Libraries. If they visit, it is always for a purpose.
‘Perhaps Eva is working with someone,’ I said, doubtfully. I think she would probably have mentioned that, especially if whoever she was working or training with was likely to take an interest in us. And why would they, at that? We are involved in nothing that can have any bearing on Lokant interests.
Ori considered me. ‘I hate to say it, but… do you think you’re maybe being a little paranoid?’
‘Oh, no,’ I groaned. ‘Do you think I could be?’ It certainly isn’t impossible. My life has been a bit of a mess this past year, to say the least, and I have been followed, tracked, sought out and outright hunted by all manner of people in that time. And for all manner of reasons, many of them unpleasant or even dangerous. Was my reason beginning to slip?
‘Could be,’ said Ori cheerfully. ‘Small wonder if you are, Llan, and don’t feel bad about it.’
‘It could have been a strong partial Lokant,’ I conceded.
‘Could have been. And it could be a total coincidence that this person was turning away at that moment. It might have had nothing to do with us.’
‘True.’ But if that was the case, what had made my senses prickle in the first place?
Ah… maybe nothing. After all, I was in the middle of the Darklands Market with about ten million other people around me. Small wonder if my perceptions were misleading me under those conditions.
But I made up my mind to ask Eva about it anyway, just in case.
27 VII
I Lose Ori to a Pile of Books. Again.
‘Are you sure you aren’t wearing Lokant-attractant perfume?’ So said Tren, who naturally couldn’t resist teasing me about it.
I carried a curl of my black hair to my nose and inhaled. “Hm. It’s hard to tell. What do Lokants find attractive?’
We both looked at Eva, who blinked at us as though we were both mad. ‘Secrets,’ she said. ‘And lies.’
She really hasn’t forgiven Limbane.
‘I know of one or two partial Lokants hereabouts,’ she continued. ‘Though I know of no reason why they should be taking an interest in you.’
‘So you think it’s nothing?’
Eva shrugged. ‘I cannot say, just at present. But if you see anything more of this mystery white-hair, send word to me and I will investigate further.’
With that, I must be content. They are right, of course. With so little upon which to base my alarms, it is impossible to argue that there is a clear threat, or to come up with a sensible course of action. And even I think I am being irrational. Just because I’ve been covertly tailed by Lokants before, it doesn’t mean there is anything untoward going on now.
Our business completed, we took our leave soon afterwards. I did not want to go. I like Eva and Tren, for one thing, and I rarely get to see them anymore. And for another… I admit, I am feeling increasingly out of my depth. I need to be older, wiser, calmer, more efficient, more sensible, more sociable, more… everything, to handle all of this. In other words, much more like Lady Evastany Glostrum. If I could contrive to spirit her away with me, I would.
Since I cannot, I will just have to work on making myself as much like her as I can. Starting with hauling myself back up to Nuwelin to address the problems I now have solutions for.
We flew home, Ori carting a packful of seed stock and me bearing a hastily-outlined trade proposal which Eva had acquired for me. I hoped they would satisfy Ivi for the time being, and leave me free to focus on the other issues.
I was a bit surprised to be greeted with real enthusiasm by Damosel. Not just Ori, who tends to elicit that response wherever he goes, but me as well. As we landed and Changed human, she came running up to us and ushered us straight into her house. There she plied us with Liat’s latest cake fresh from baking and gave us a whole pot of tea between the two of us. My favourite kind, too, which proves she has been paying attention.
‘How goes the search?’ I enquired as we devoured our cake. I was pleased to sit down as I did so, for we had done a great deal of flying over a couple of days, and some of my muscles were aching powerfully.
Damosel felt the same, judging from the way she winced as she stretched out upon the low, padded bench she had painstakingly built for herself. ‘Nothing to report,’ she said, much to my relief. ‘No new finds, nothing out of the ordinary. Some of the boys are still out, including Pense.’
I knew that, of course. The first thing I had done when we flew in was look for Pense, and I had been disappointed to find no trace of him.
But it would be unprofessional to let that show, so I merely nodded and went on to tell Damosel all of our news.
Except for the bit about the Lokant at the market, for I was feeling a little foolish about it and really, there was nothing to tell. Ori cast me a sideways glance when I reached the end of my account without mentioning that part, but he didn’t say anything.
I felt brightened by the news that there was no more news, because that meant nothing else bad had happened while we were gone. After that, we lost no time in distributing our purchases, which made everybody happy for a little while. And so I learned: never underestimate the efficacy of a well-timed gift. Ivi, thankfully, was content with our offerings and went away to study the proposed trade agreement with Glour.
It began to rain soon after that, driving us back into our shelters.
‘It’s time,’ whispered Ori to me as we ran for my house. He had taken over one of my few small rooms, having, as yet, no abode of his own. We were working on it.
‘For what?’
‘The books!’ Ori made let’s-go motions with his hands. I could well understand his urgency, for it had taken Eva almost until our departure to find the books we wanted and hand them over to us. We hadn’t yet had chance to look at them.
But my mind was whirling too much for that. I can’t focus on reading with my brain buzzing like a jar full of flies. So I gave the stack of books to Ori. There are four, which doesn’t sound like much but they are enormously thick tomes. They are enough to strike trepidation into my heart, but Ori just grinned and accepted them with alacrity. Well, he is a star scholar after all, whereas my schooling was more basic.
So I said to myself, in an attempt to feel better.
‘You aren’t staying?’ he said as I turned to go.
I shook my head and tapped my forehead. ‘Thoughts aswirl. I need to fix that, or I will just stare vacantly at the pages and absorb nothing.’
Ori just nodded and wandered off with his books. I tried not to feel hurt as I left him to it.
I wanted to find myself a quiet nook somewhere and do nothing for the rest of the day, but I could not justify that to myself. I had been absent for days already, and though my mission had been a productive one, I had not been pulling my weight with the more mundane activities required of our life up here. There was no reason, though, why the two needs couldn’t coincide.
I found Larion at work in the kitchens, and retrieved Sigwide from him. I was instantly enfolded in orting-love, which is not a complex emotion, but there is a simplicity and depth to Siggy’s affection which I always find touching.
Missed you, said Siggy as I gently scooped him up out of Larion’s lap. He said it with a wave of forlorn neediness which roused every guilty feeling I had in me, and I sighed.
Sorry. I am here now.
Don’t go away again.
I couldn’t promise, so I didn’t try. I merely pacified him with the dried berries I’d brought for the purpose, gave Larion a distracted smile, and turned to leave.
‘I’ve never come across any creature with such a deep affection for anybody not of their own species,’ said Larion.
I turned back. ‘Oh?’
He smiled at me, and I realised he was trying to be reassuring. Had I come across as defensive? Probably. I tend to do that by habit, with anybody I don’t know all that well. I tried to relax, and smiled back. ‘I think that Siggy sees me as another orting,’ I said. ‘Just a bigger one. He can never understand what I have done with my tail.’
Larion nodded. He said nothing else. He’s almost as quiet as I am, so for him to volunteer such a long sentence unprompted was unusual anyway.
‘Thank you for taking care of him,’ I said, feeling awkward again.
‘He’s no trouble.’ Larion returned his attention to his work. He was splitting pods of some kind, and extracting the contents. I muttered a farewell and left him to it.
Never put two shy, unchatty people in a room together for more than thirty seconds. Honestly, it’s just painful.
The books Eva gave us are as follows. The thickest one is also the oldest, according to what she told us. It is entitled “The Draykoni: Myth and Reality,” with no credited author. The second is called simply “Orlind”, which is vague but promising. There is a relatively slim one called “An Account of the 19th Cluster Construct Wars: 12th Age.” That’s the one Ori is reading. According to Eva, 19th Cluster means our worlds — the Seven, the Uppers and the Lowers. That is what the Lokants call it.
Then there is “Arts Draykus,” which is an intriguingly mysterious title. It proves to be about some of the draykoni’s known powers from the Lokant perspective, which is of more than passing interest to me as you may imagine.
After dinner, I went back to my house to find Ori still engrossed by these delights. I’d taken a tray of Liat’s roasted vegetables in for him, since I knew full well he wouldn’t stir all night, or even all week. Not until he had read all four of the books.
I found him sprawled in the middle of my ground-floor living chamber in a pile of blankets and pillows — everything that used to be on my bed, in fact. He had one of the tomes open before him, and he lay on his stomach with his nose over it, absolutely intent. I went in and said hello, and Ori went on reading as if I wasn’t there at all. I had to sit down beside him and put the tray virtually under his nose before he noticed I was there, and finally he looked up and blinked at me.
‘Llan! Is it dinner time? Thank you.’ He ate, and went on reading.
I waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. ‘Have you found anything interesting?’ I tried.
Ori nodded enthusiastically, his gaze still glued to the page. ‘Tons!’
I waited again, with the same result. ‘Want to tell me some of it?’ I prompted.
‘Oh!’ Ori looked up, blinking. ‘Right.’ He groped around for one of the books and hauled it open, leafing rapidly through it. ‘This book. Draykoni, myth and reality. It’s interesting because it’s a Lokant-authored book of legends, accompanied by discussions of the truths behind the stories. And the stories are crazy. Their society really reveres the draykoni. They’re seen as the pinnacle of Lokant achievement, bar nothing, and practically every conceivable power has been attributed to them at one time or another. The book calmly debunks most of it, while still emphasising how truly remarkable an achievement they were. And, check this, Galy’s name is all over it.’ Ori found the page he was looking for and indicated three different places upon it, proving his point. ‘I don’t think I am getting the full impact on this, Eva’s translations are a little shaky in places. But it’s compelling. Don’t you think that’s interesting?’
‘Galywis is well known?’ I said. We have met Galywis once before, in the Library of Orlind — or what is left of it. He is nice, but completely mad.
‘Famous,’ Ori replied, with emphasis. ‘Very famous.’
‘We knew that, didn’t we? After all, he was the Master Lokantor for who-knows-how-long.’
Ori nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, but that isn’t what he is famous for. These books mention his status in passing, like it’s one of the less interesting things about him. The focus is all on his accomplishments, particularly the draykoni. I think that is why they made him the Master in the first place, and how he kept the post for so long.’
That was interesting. Galy was a legend among his people? It was hard to picture him thus, considering I had only ever known him as aged, broken and insane. What a sad ruin to such a life.
Ori had stopped talking and looked absorbed in the pages once more. ‘Anything else?’ I prompted.
‘Hm? Oh! Nothing significant, yet. I’ll let you know.’
28 VII
Er. Where Are We…?
I lay awake for some time last night, worrying about Pense. Most of the searchers have been and gone and come back again over the past several days, but Pense’s group has yet to return at all.
I should not be concerned, for he still has Nyden and Meriall with
him. They have just wandered far in search of trouble, and it is taking them some time to make their way back. Or so I tell myself.
I hope they haven’t found any.
I hoped that Pense’s return would be the next event of note that I would record here. In fact, it is nothing so straightforward.
Today was spent in unbroken study. Ori remained inflexibly absorbed, and I was helping him, but I cannot focus on reading for so many hours together without needing a break. Everyone else was busily employed and Pense still hadn’t returned, so I went out for a walk by myself. I could have flown, but my arms and back still ached from our journey into Glour and I wanted to stretch my legs instead. I stuck my journal in my bag, hoping to find a quiet nook somewhere to settle and write a bit.
I appreciated the silence as I walked. It was a balmy evening. The rain had cleared off an hour or two earlier, leaving the grasses around our valley sparkling with droplets. I wandered beyond those into a copse of frilly little trees which had appeared overnight. It can be disconcerting, the way the landscape reinvents itself. I may have been living up here for a few moons now, but I was born and brought up in Glinnery, where the countryside behaves with much more consistency and circumspection. If it was glissenwol trees yesterday, it will be glissenwol trees tomorrow. Perhaps that’s dull, or perhaps it’s comfortingly familiar.
I am slowly getting used to the Changes, but it takes time.
I wandered through the trees for a while, and amused myself with coaxing a few starry-shaped flowers out of the earth. I was getting a little carried away with this, covering the ground in more and more of them and adding rainbow colours, when I realised that we were no longer alone.
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