Anyway, as far from the mystery flock as we were, it was impossible to discern anything about them. We held a hurried and tense consultation between the three of us, a conversation to which Sigwide added an occasional sleepy syllable by way of support, and ultimately decided that it was too late to try to go around them. We would have to approach in good faith, and hope for the best.
The mystery was resolved when I noticed that the lead figure really was unusually large, it was no trick of the distance or the light. She also had green and white scales.
I could say she with complete confidence at that point because it could be no other than Eterna.
All right, I said, more intrigued than alarmed. What is Eterna’s colony doing this far north?
It took us another quarter of an hour or so to reach them, which was plenty of time for us to turn over a variety of theories between the three of us. Perhaps something had happened to their home site and they had been forced to move. Perhaps they were simply in search of a better spot. Maybe there was some threat they sought to avoid.
Maybe they’re just having a family day out, suggested Ori with a mental smirk.
A pleasant constitutional around the mountains, added Pense, which interested me, for he is not so likely to joke as Ori or Tren. They’re really rubbing off on him.
It all struck me as a little irreverent, considering that some catastrophe might have befallen them. But I had to admit, they did not look like they were in trouble. There was a serene quality to their flight, an insouciance to the angle of their wings, that belied any ideas of trauma.
It turns out that distance can indeed be deceiving.
Eterna flew on ahead of the rest of her folk to meet us, and as she drew closer I was obliged to relinquish any fond ideas as to her serenity. She came at us in a blaze of bright green hide, the colours dazzlingly intense in the strong sunlight, and when she reached us she flashed teeth and claws in a display of fury.
Every draykon knows, she hissed. Every true draykon, pure in blood and sage in the ways of our kind, knows to avoid Orlind! Every one of us! But you, in your ignorance, your infantile overconfidence, had to meddle where it was not due. See what has come of it! I wish to the sun and skies that your miserable kind had never been drawn forth to plague us! She focused on Pense and bared her teeth once more, a low snarl accompanying the gesture. I have not forgotten your presence, wing-brother. What company you keep! How could you permit yourself to be drawn into such dangerous meddling!
This tirade left all three of us speechless. Orlind. Surely the corruption could not have spread so far as to disturb Eterna’s colony? I felt a growing dread which robbed me of words entirely.
Calm, wing-sister, said Pense at last, at his most soothing. Tell us what is amiss.
Now is not the time for calm, Eterna replied contemptuously. We are forced to flee, but where can we go? Soon all the realms will be engulfed by the sickness and we shall all be mad. Upon which encouraging words she soared in a tight circle, turned her back on us, and winged away.
Wait! I yelled after her. I beat my wings hard, determined to chase her down. We need your help to mend this!
Eterna ignored me, but there was no way I would let her lay the blame for this at our door and then refuse to assist us. I flew faster, my muscles aching with the effort — she is much larger than I, and her wingspan dwarfs mine. I cannot long keep pace with her.
Please! I threw after her. You’re right. If we do nothing, Iskyr and Ayrien will be lost and where will that leave our people?
Eterna slowed at last, and banked to face me. She said nothing immediately, and I was left to enjoy her palpable hatred uninterrupted. It rolled off her in waves, mingled with frustration and more fear than I believe she wanted to display. The effect was stifling, and I struggled to breathe.
You should have sought my guidance sooner, she said at last, wintry-cold and unmoved. I told you to stay away from Orlind.
If we had done so, it would now be under the control of a Lokant whose interests have nothing to do with protecting or preserving our worlds. My kind are here because of him!
Eterna gave a mental shrug. He is also the reason why I am once again alive, I and all of my people. What if he had taken back Orlind? Perhaps he would have mended it, and we would not now have this problem.
How can you talk so? If there has been meddling afoot then it is he who bears the blame. Lokants have torn our world apart in pursuit of their own goals, and if unchecked—
Is this all that you wished to say to me? Eterna interrupted. You are wasting my time. Go back to your pathetic village and enjoy it while you can. She cast me a final look of shrivelling contempt, accompanied by a kind of mental gesture which was like… well, it was as though she had spat at me.
Wait, I said again. Your mother’s death.
She froze. What of it?
Is it a coincidence, that these deaths occur at the same time that the corruption spreads out of Orlind? Perhaps, but I doubt it. They are connected — they must be.
It wasn’t enough. Eterna showed me her tail and flew away, not deigning to answer me. She flew with all her speed, and I could have no hope of keeping up with her this time. I could only watch, sadly, as she disappeared into the distance.
Pense and Ori had caught up with me by then. You tried, Llan, said Ori. It is no fault of ours if she is too stupid and stubborn and lazy to listen to us.
But we need their help, I sighed. It will be so much harder to do it alone.
We will find a way. That was Pense. We have achieved much already, largely unaided. And now we have Nuwelin, and Avane’s folk.
Perhaps it would be enough. I wish she had at least told us the extent of the spread into her territory, I replied, feeling more grouchy than dismayed. How dare she blame us and make our job harder in one stroke! She had always infuriated me.
We were going there anyway, pointed out Ori. Let’s continue. We can find out for ourselves.
So we did. The relative tranquillity of our earlier flight was all lost this time. We flew in a state of heightened alertness, searching for any signs of a disruption in the flow of amasku around us, dreading that we would come across it at any moment.
Somewhat to our relief, we flew a long way before we encountered the first sense of it. It was hard to miss, though it is difficult for me to describe how or why in words. If you imagine… a correct flow of amasku is like a sunny day, with clear skies and a fresh breeze and that delightful feeling of serenity and possibility and hope. It empowers us, strengthens us, keeps us calm and at the height of our abilities.
When we drew near to the corruption, it was like seeing a dark, heavy storm-cloud appear on the horizon. The closer we got, the more disturbing this effect became, like that feeling of tension and dread that builds with an oncoming storm. That is the best I can do, and it falls far short of encompassing everything that I feel. I can only apologise.
We were forced to stop at last, for we dared not get too close. We hung there in the skies, clumsily hovering as we surveyed the damage.
There was no visible sign of trouble in the landscape below, not yet. If the dry, barren island of Orlind was anything to go by, that would come in time. For now, the marshes spread before us were thriving, all flourishing vegetation and scurrying animals. The creatures I sensed, though, were beginning to feel it: there was a feverish quality to their movements which there ought not to be, and a hint of panic reached me from more than one source. Some were struggling to maintain their sense of direction, growing steadily more confused.
Corrupted amasku affects my kind worst of all, for we are formed of that energy and cannot help being tied to it. We are a part of its flow. But no creature is safe from it — not beasts, not humans. Left unchecked, it will eventually kill everything it touches. I thought of one of Galy’s visions, and the way the draykon’s bones had turned dull and crumbled.
Ori finally broke the depressed and frightened silence. We are a long way from Orlind.
Much too fast, I said. We must mend this, now.
Ori shook his head in frustration. Yes, but how? Even Galywis couldn’t mend it. He could only contain it.
Galywis is not a draykon.
Right, which is probably the only reason why he could dwell there and only go acceptably mad. We were hopeless in Orlind. It affects us too deeply.
We were not hopeless. We managed for a while, though it took some effort to counteract the effects. If we co-operate as a larger group, we can manage for long enough to look around, gather some information.
That will have to be enough, then, said Ori, not sounding convinced. We can try it.
We should go at once, I said. No use in mapping the extent of the corruption any more — we know enough. There isn’t time.
And so we returned to Nuwelin, faster than we could easily bear and already tired from our long flight. It was not my favourite, of all the journeys I have ever taken. By the time we reached our home we were dropping with exhaustion, and poor Sigwide was a shivering ball of distress in his flight bag.
I Changed human again, shuddering with tiredness and the pain in my limbs. I forced my trembling legs to walk about a little, afraid that if I lay down it might take me hours to move again.
The village was largely empty, the others apparently not yet returned from their own errands. I did find Gio, though, lying in Larion’s usual spot in the centre. He smiled as I approached with Pense, Sigwide lying in a boneless heap around my neck.
‘Morning,’ he said, then looked at the sky with a frown. ‘At least, I think it is? It is so hard to tell up here.’
‘It is always morning,’ I told him. ‘And afternoon as well. The terms mean little in Iskyr. We speak of days, but the span of time is pretty arbitrary up here.’
‘Fair.’ He produced something spherical from a pocket and showed it to us, a satisfied smile on his handsome face. ‘I brought this for you.’
It was bluish and opaque and I couldn’t even tell what it was made from, let alone guess at what it was for. My blank face must have said enough, for he hastily added, ‘Oh, it is a… book.’
‘It does not look like a book.’
Gio sat up. ‘I know that. It is a book in another format, a way of storing information. It doesn’t matter how. It contains records from some of the original draykoni projects, unaltered.’ He frowned and amended, ‘Hopefully unaltered. One can never be sure.’
Ori reached for it, brightening at once. ‘Oh, interesting. How do I read it?’
‘You can’t from here. I would have to take you back out to the Library, to a reading room. And you would need my help deciphering it, for it is in an old tongue which is too far removed from yours to be comprehensible. I think.’
‘You found that very quickly.’ I frowned at him, unable to help feeling a twinge of suspicion. What had he said about the vastness of the collections?
‘Not at all. It took a great deal of time — weeks, you would call it. Time passes differently in the Libraries, you must know that.’
I had known, and had briefly forgotten, my mind on other things. ‘We have a bigger problem at the moment,’ I said, feeling torn. ‘I am not sure we can spare Ori to pursue that until we have mended Orlind.’
‘Llan! We must. Remember what you said to Eterna — what if there is a link? Those records could hold the answers to both problems and I need to see them.’
I looked at Pense, too troubled to think clearly.
He is right, said Pense gently. We can manage without him while he searches the records, and he is the best person to take on that task.
There was a time when Pense was always losing his temper and flying into a rage. Somewhere in recent moons, though, he has all but lost this tendency and become a voice of reason instead. I scarcely recognise him as the person I first knew.
I sometimes wonder how much I have altered, in the eyes of my friends. I know it must be a lot, for here I am: far from home, leading a fledgling colony I could not even have imagined a year ago, and grappling with problems that would once have been unthinkable. I have not seen my parents in weeks, and have barely had time to notice, let alone regret the absence of their protection and comfort.
How things change.
‘All right, go,’ I said. ‘As fast as you can, Ori.’
‘Yes. But remember, time passes differently up there. I could probably devote weeks to the project and still be back in time for tea.’ He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug, and hugged a bemused Pensould with even more vigour. ‘Luck in Orlind. Be careful out there.’
Ori helped Gio to his feet and gave him a hearty slap on the back, a gesture which sent the unwary Gio into a slight stagger. ‘Let’s go!’
The two young men linked hands and vanished, leaving me alone with Pense. He approached me at once and gathered me close, nuzzling my neck. I cannot remember the last time we managed to be alone, he said silently, echoing my own thoughts.
And there is no time to take advantage of it, I replied with regret. In the distance and coming rapidly closer was Nyden, a mote of warmth and brightness in my magical senses.
Pense sighed and released me. I do wish the worlds would stop ending, he said, half joking and half sincere. It is inconvenient.
Nyden arrived in such a hurry, he almost landed on us. Wotcha, he said, or something like it. Are you busy?
Not excessively, said Pense gravely.
Great. Orlind is sinking and I thought you might want to look into that.
Sinking…? I repeated, and the word matched the sensation in my heart.
Yeah. Not that badly, just a bit around the edges. But sinking is sinking, right? Loret and I snuck a peak over the mountains. Oh, the corruption has gone way into Iskyr but you knew that by now. It grows at maybe a foot’s length a day.
I looked at Nyden’s clawed feet. They were much bigger than mine, and probably encompassed three or four of what I would think of as “feet”.
My heart began to pound with alarm. That’s too fast!
You bet it is. Oh and there is a castle in the middle.
A… castle? In the middle of the island?
Big place, nice turrets. Flags. Black as night, though, and looks mad as fire. If a building can look mad. It can, right?
Do you mean mad-crazy or mad-angry?
Both.
That answered any questions I might have had about where Galy was right now. That will be the Library, but I thought he was running away from Orlind? What is he doing there? It felt odd, referring to a building as he or indeed referring to Galy as the Library, but no matter. Weird and my life are practically synonymous terms by now.
No idea, said Nyden. We took a look from a nice, safe distance and then it was time to fleeeee.
Pense spoke up. Where is Loret, out of interest?
Ny’s head snaked around on his long neck. Uh. Good question. He ran several steps and launched himself into the air, clumsier than normal. Was he merely tired, or was what Eterna called the sickness getting to him, even though he had kept a clear distance from Orlind? That was a troubling thought.
All right, we need to go. I set off for my house as I said it, conscious of the likelihood of Ori and Gio returning to an empty village. I scrawled a hasty note on one of Ori’s dried leaf bookmarks and left it on top of his stack of books. I hoped he would find it there, but could do little to make sure of it.
Then I put Siggy back in his pack and slung him around my neck, pausing to grab a handful of berries for him before I left my house.
No, he grumbled, and writhed.
We have to go out again, Sig. You don’t want to stay here alone, do you?
He thrashed harder by way of response, but he quieted when I dropped the berries into the bag. I am sorry, I told him softly. Soon we will be finished with this, and can be peaceful again.
Siggy munched berries noisily. Whuff, he said, which is a word I have never heard him use before
. I still have no idea what it means.
Good, I said, choosing to take it as agreement. Then we go.
And we went.
12 VIII
To Orlind, and Victory!
… or Doom. Probably Doom.
Having already flown a long way south to Eterna’s (abandoned) colony and back, it took a great deal out of us to set off for Orlind again so soon. But we had no choice. Matters were now far too urgent to admit of delay, regardless of how much I wished we could stay at home and sleep.
We had forgotten to eat for some time, too, and had little opportunity to rectify this along the way. Soaring into chaos both sleep-deprived and underfed was no wonderful plan, but what else could we do? The island was sinking and Galywis was holding the fort — literally — all alone. We would just have to be all right, somehow.
We found Nyden again somewhere along the way, and Loret too. Get everybody to Orlind, I told them in passing, having paused only to ascertain that they were well and had no further news for us. If you find the others, or Avane’s folk, please send them after us. And come yourselves, when you can. We need all possible assistance.
They were weary, too, and I felt terrible issuing such instructions when they clearly needed rest. But urgency compelled me. This was no time for weakness.
When we crossed over into corrupted territory, I felt it almost like a physical blow. It knocked the breath from me and made my head spin, my stomach churn. I had to slow dramatically or I might have fallen out of the sky.
The effect was not as bad, yet, as it had been on the island. I wondered whether that meant that it began mildly enough but would grow worse in time, or whether Orlind was so bad because it was the centre of the disturbance. I hoped to reverse the spread well before we would have time to learn the answer.
Of course, I had no idea how. I quickly put that thought out of my mind before doubt could halt me altogether, and we flew on.
There are some obstacles in between an intrepid adventurer like ourselves and the island known as Orlind. For one, there is a considerable mountain range running along the west coast of Irbel. That barrier is the reason why nobody set foot in Orlind for so many ages, and we had trouble enough passing through on the last occasion.
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