A thought occurred to me. Ny, are you… old?
Way old!
Really old?
Really really. Ny’s tail swayed back and forth contentedly.
Do you, uh… remember having parents?
Nobody remembers having parents.
In other words, no. I eyed him with some fascination. Pense was filling the others in on our discoveries, and Ny bent his head to listen, his tail tapping with lively interest. I focused on Nyden, surveying him first with my eyes and then with my other senses.
In my mind’s eye, Larion, Meriall and Ivi were patches of flickering brightness and warmth in the writhing mess of energies that was the island. Chaos seethed around them, tugging at them, tormenting their peace, tearing their brightness into pieces. I quaked, seeing how easily they could be engulfed. I had no doubt I was the same.
Pense was a brighter, stronger presence. He radiated a fierce vibrancy the others lacked, his heart’s energy an ordered pattern.
If Meriall flickered and Pense glowed, Nyden shone. He was a tiny sun, a self-contained bundle of strong magical energy. I watched as chaos reached for him with hungry little hands and was… absorbed, its broken patterns melting smoothly into the perfection of Nyden’s. But it did not disappear without trace. He was soaking it up, I think involuntarily, and I could feel its effects upon him — the first flickers of danger in the frenzied currents of his life force. But those energies swirled through him in a rush and flowed back out, creating a little space around him where the patterns matched his own. More or less.
Pense, I said to him silently. Ny is an Elder, isn’t he?
Yes. He answered me absently, still engaged in discussion with the others.
Look at him. I mean, really look at him.
Pensould turned, and subjected Nyden to the full weight of his scrutiny. Nyden had drifted off into a world of his own by then and sat crooning some mad little song to himself, oblivious to all the attention he was attracting.
I think we can conclude that you are not an Elder, I told him. You are much older than the rest of us, and pure draykon besides. Apparently that means that your connection to this world and these energies is stronger than ours. But the Elders are in a class of their own! Look at him. He breathes it like air, and he is imposing his own order around him.
Temporarily, perhaps, for chaos whirled around all of us, as ferocious as a storm and as far beyond control. The fact that Nyden could influence it at all was remarkable.
Pense stared at Ny, as electrified as I was. But… if the aim of Krays’s Library is to restore Orlind, why would they be killing off the very people who can positively affect it?
Perhaps they are not killing anybody. Maybe someone else is responsible for that.
My head ached at the idea that we might have multiple Lokant factions involved, and some of them unidentified. Was Limbane lurking about somewhere, sticking his fingers into the Seven Realms pie yet again? If so, what was he up to? I hated to think that he might be the one killing Elders. We might have parted ways with him in the end, but I still struggle to think of him as so outright a villain.
We need to know more, said Pense, his frustration echoing my own. I thought again of Ori, and wondered if he was safe, and what he had found.
We also need to keep a closer eye on Nyden. I thought for a second, and added, And we need to get hold of more Elders.
Pense nodded, following my line of thinking without needing to enquire. The corrosive effect of the island was probably the single biggest obstacle to our accomplishing anything useful here at all — either helping Galy, or renewing the land. But so many Elders had been killed, and Nuwelin had only ever had Nyden.
I thought of Eterna, and cursed her again in my mind. How many Elders did she have among her much larger colony?
Ny, Meriall. Larion. Did any of you get hold of Avane?
The lady’s on her way. Nyden’s words radiated a thrumming appreciation, which slightly took me aback.
With her people?
All the everybody. It will be a fine family party.
Meriall rolled her eyes. Ny flirted with her disgracefully.
I felt Ny’s mental grin, even without looking at him. She is delicious.
I let that pass. How many Elders are with her?
Nyden shrugged his wings. I did not look.
I can’t tell, said Meriall, and Ivi agreed.
None, said Larion.
Meriall blinked at him. How do you know that?
Larion shrugged his wings, echoing Ny’s gesture. I have no idea. They just feel different to me.
Another interesting point. Pense could spot Elders easily enough, but those of us with human heritage struggled — except Larion. Larion, you are going to be useful for that. Keep an eye out for Elders, please, and let me know if we encounter any?
Larion did not reply, but he nodded seriously at me.
No more Elders, then. Just Ny. It would not be enough. It was not just the question of Galy/the Library being under some kind of siege and the unpromising presence of unidentified Lokants on the island. There still loomed the question of how to renew this place, if we could, and seeing Nyden’s effect on the environment I could not help formulating the beginnings of a hopeful plan. If we could gather enough draykoni here, as many of them Elders as possible, perhaps we could really achieve something.
But that was for later. The place was still contested. Galy was still dead, murdered by an unknown person. Somebody — possibly the same person — had sent him fleeing from Orlind and had pursued him across Iskyr. Somebody was still killing Elders. Eterna still hated us and refused to work with us at all. Ori was missing and Gio’s motives were in question, more directly so than ever before. Oh, and Orlind’s sickness was spreading across Iskyr and Ayrien and even infecting the Seven a little.
We had a host of problems to deal with before we could think about mending this place.
I looked at Nyden again, and Larion and Ivi and Meriall… and another unpromising thought darted into my mind.
‘How are they finding the Elders?’ I said aloud.
Everybody looked at me blankly. ‘What?’ said Ivi. ‘The Lokants?’
‘Yes. Whoever is responsible for killing them. There are multiple draykoni colonies spread over the whole of Iskyr and Ayrien — finding any individual draykoni is no easy task to begin with. Once found, how can they tell which are Elders? Even most of us cannot easily tell. Nobody without our heritage should have any idea.’
‘But the chart room?’ said Ivi. ‘They have better information about the Elders than we do.’
‘They are just names,’ I replied, shaking my head. ‘Just names written on a wall. How do you match a name to a particular individual? They knew that Ludino and Myir were Elders but how could they know what they looked like or where to find them?’
‘The closer you are to being an Elder, the easier it is to spot the others,’ said Meriall grimly.
I nodded, unwilling to voice the rest of my thoughts aloud. Pense’s face prevented me. He looked stricken, and sick to the soul.
‘They have had help,’ he said at last. His wings flexed abruptly, and he let out a roar of disgust.
‘Yep,’ said Meriall. ‘You are right, Pensould: it probably is not draykoni killing other draykoni. But some of us, somewhere, are helping the killers.’
I felt sick, too. How could any of us so betray the others? I thought of Eterna. She was the only one I knew who could be cruel enough, who could hate enough... and she had shown a surprisingly sympathetic attitude to Krays. But would she? Her own mother had been one of the victims. Why would she do it?
‘Why, though?’ said Ivi, echoing my thoughts. ‘They must be getting something out of it.’
I shut my eyes for a minute. Everything was getting badly on top of me. There was so much going on, so many questions to which we had no answers — only more and more questions. It never ended. My mind was awhirl with it; I felt dizzy with the pressure and the frust
ration.
‘We need Ori,’ I said at last.
Larion had said little, though he was by no means inattentive. Every time I looked his way, I saw his eyes fixed upon a different part of the island, surveying everything. At length, he spoke. ‘That castle is moving.’
We all whipped around as one, and stared at the looming black monstrosity in the centre of the island. Or, it had been in the centre when I had last looked at it a few minutes before. It was not moving now, but it was closer.
As we watched, the flags all changed colour from black to white, and grew bigger. The sheer face of the fortress’s front had no door, but now it developed one, a vast round portal which opened in clear invitation.
‘I think Galy wants to talk to us,’ said Meriall, frowning. ‘Again.’
We could not deny such a request, though I think none of us was thrilled at the prospect of being swallowed once more by such a confusing, chaotic and sometimes dangerous building. This time, though, we were different: all in our draykon forms, we made a much more formidable group. And we needed to talk to him. We launched ourselves skyborne and flew, mostly in a straight line, though there was some weaving about on the part of Meri, Ivi and Larion.
When we were halfway across the intervening distance, the castle made a sudden lunge for us. One moment it was still far away; the next, it loomed directly above us, dark and forbidding, its portal gaping wide.
‘Oh Galy, please don’t do that again…’ I began, but too late. The open door yawned wider; black brick and an onrush of shadow engulfed our senses and we were swallowed whole into the depths of the fortress-that-was-Galywis (and the Library of Orlind).
Light, air and freedom vanished with a booming snap of the door behind us.
We tumbled in a heap onto a cold, dark stone floor. I was knocked back into my human shape by the shock of it, and for a moment I lay limp, too surprised to react. Sigwide’s whimpering recalled me to myself, for he had fallen out of his sling and lay curled in an unhappy ball a few feet away.
Or... no, not whimpering. He was giggling again, and by no means unhappy. He curled himself into a tighter ball, his fur sticking up in a bristly grey thatch, and began rolling madly about, bumping willy-nilly into the various prone bodies lying inert upon the floor.
Siggy, I sighed, and gathered him up. It was an amusing display, but exactly then was not the time.
He protested. But I like it.
You like berries, too. Here’s some. I retrieved some of my dried supply from a pocket and offered them by way of a bribe, which was as effective as always.
This done, I hauled myself to my feet and looked around. What manner of place had Galy made for us this time?
We were in a vast, stone-built hall, and... that was it. The structure was enormous, and poorly lit, so I could see nothing of the ceiling or even the farthest wall. There was no furniture, no windows, no adornments, nothing. It was just empty space.
Pense had hung onto his draykon shape and lay on the other side of the hall. He got to his feet as I watched and shook himself, grunting his displeasure. Nyden was his usual self: scaled, as inky-black as the hall, and blithely untouched by the abrupt change in our circumstances. He stretched lazily and curled his tail around himself with a sleepy smile. I like this game.
The others had all lost their grip on their draykon selves, like me, and were staggering shakily upright. Nobody seemed to be lastingly hurt, which quieted my concerns somewhat.
‘Galy,’ I called. ‘We are delighted to see you, of course, but what are you doing here? And what are we doing here?’
In answer, one wall cleared and brightened and turned transparent, like a single, vast window. Through it, we could see the cracked, bare earth of the island beyond and the glittering, sunlit sea farther still.
It was no longer empty.
The two Lokants we had seen before had returned. One of them was definitely Gio, I saw to my mingled disgust and dismay. His companion was a Lokant woman of much more advanced years. Her white hair hung loose in a tangled mess, and she appeared to be similarly uninterested in neatness of dress, for her simple black shirt, trousers and coat were rumpled and shabby. She and Gio looked at ease together, I thought, like they knew each other well. Though, it was hard to tell with Gio. He always looked impassive.
With them came others: three that I could see, two women and a man, of various ages. I could determine little else about them: they were as featureless in dress and appearance as Gio’s unidentified companion, and they carried nothing that might give us a clue as to their intentions.
What worried me more was Galy’s reaction to this group. If he had still been a man, he would have been quivering with rage. As it was, his stones shook and rumbled with anger and waves of fury beat upon us, almost a palpable force. I stretched out a hand and found stone, even if I couldn’t see it. I laid my hand upon it in an instinctive gesture of comfort, though I doubt that it helped.
‘Galy, who are these people?’ I said. I was not very hopeful of a useful response and I received none, but the question hung in the air.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Meriall.
Galy either did not know or could not tell us, for nothing changed. We could only watch as the little group of Lokants approached the castle and stood staring up at it, conferring amongst themselves. We heard nothing of their conversation. I wondered if they could see us as we could see them, but that was unlikely; they gave no sign of having spotted us, and did not appear to realise that they were observed.
I wanted to march out there and interrogate Gio. What was he doing on Orlind, with such company? And what had he done with Ori?
‘It’s Gio,’ said Meriall suddenly.
Had she only just noticed? ‘Yes, it is.’
‘No. I mean, Gio must be the one helping whoever’s killing Elders. He is half draykon, isn’t he?’ Her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms indignantly. ‘After we were so welcoming, too.’
I mostly remembered Meri being witheringly sarcastic to Gio and blatantly distrustful of him, but I said nothing of that. ‘He might be,’ I said cautiously. ‘But if so, he is much less draykoni than most of us here, and we have a difficult time spotting Elders ourselves.’
‘But it is possible.’
I felt torn. I hated the idea that Gio was so complete a betrayer. I wanted to be vindicated in my decision to trust him — and if he was so far in league with the Lokant killers, what did that suggest about Ori’s safety? My heart fluttered with trepidation at the idea.
On the other hand, he was a convenient culprit because he was not one of us. If he was responsible, we did not have to face the prospect that one of our own had aided so cruel and ruthless a regime. I could see why Meriall so readily seized upon the idea.
Her suggestion found willing agreement from Ivi and even Larion. Pense, too. This eagerness to turn upon him with no real evidence troubled me, and I felt more strongly than ever that I wanted to defend him.
But how could I? I had no evidence that he was trustworthy either, and here he inexplicably was: wandering Orlind where he should not be, and in company with a group of Lokants we knew nothing about. The chances that they were here to help anything we cared about seemed slim.
For a second I was really tempted to go out there and confront him. I was growing tired of the lack of answers, tired of having to wait for something to change, for somebody to slip up and reveal something, or for somebody else to hand us the information we needed. I felt like wringing Gio’s neck until he told me everything he knew.
These uncharacteristically violent tendencies were forestalled by an arresting sight which swiftly distracted my attention: a flutter of colour on the horizon. I held my breath, unsure what I was hoping for except for... something. Something good, something useful, a change. I hardly dared hope for Ori.
The flickers of colour resolved into a line of draykoni, advancing on the wing at terrific speed. I saw shades of red, purple, green, blue, everything... my eyes st
rained, searching for the one I was most anxious to see.
There, in the midst of the approaching crowd: a large, muscular drayk with a familiar shimmering golden hide.
‘That’s Ori!’ I yelled, relief and hope making me unusually loud in my excitement. I found I was bouncing on my toes, so delighted was I to see him coming.
I wanted to run out of the castle again to meet him, and see who he had brought with him. Only, there remained a group of Lokants in between them and us. It might be better if these people were not informed that they had such a large number of draykoni ranged against them, but it was too late for that.
‘Galy...’ I began, but faltered, unsure what to say.
‘We need to get out,’ said Pense.
‘No, we need to stay here,’ said Larion.
‘Bring Gio here, and get rid of the rest,’ Meri added in a cold voice.
‘Galy is keeping us safe,’ Ivi said, with a rare smile. ‘Isn’t that right?’
Galy rumbled his agreement... or perhaps it was disagreement. Stone blocks are not especially easy to interpret.
We were certainly safe. Nobody would get in without Galywis’s permission. But we were also confined, and our situation could quickly turn into a siege if we were not careful. What would be best to do?
I thought over the possibilities, and made a decision. ‘Galy, can you please get our friends in here?’
There was a clamour of disagreement from my companions, which troubled me more than I cared to show. It is a new experience, having to make difficult choices and alienating others in the process.
It is especially difficult to oppose Pense. If he is not with me, I feel lost.
‘We have few options,’ I persisted. ‘We have no idea who those Lokants are, or what they are doing here. We don’t know what Gio’s up to, we don’t know what Ori has found out, we don’t know who killed Galywis or the Elders or why — we hardly know anything! What we need before we can proceed is information, and that means we need access to Ori and time and safety enough to hear him out. So, we need to get him in here, and everybody he has brought with him, because they are our friends and we do not know if those Lokants pose a threat until we have heard from Ori. Does anybody disagree with any of this?’
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