Orlind

by Charlotte E. English

  Eva frowned, annoyed. She despised being lectured, and Limbane did a lot of that. It was even worse when he was right.

  ‘I just don’t understand why I cannot master it,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never been so completely stymied by anything before.’

  Limbane sat beside her and set about bandaging her finger. He was gentle about it, even though she sensed he was irritated with her.

  ‘It is to do with the way the mind works,’ he explained. ‘Different minds work in different ways. Yours is a particularly unique specimen, for you have strong Lokant heritage and strong draykon heritage, as well as being of human extraction. The results of that cannot be all advantageous, however nice that would be.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it though,’ she sighed.

  He smiled briefly. ‘You are remarkably good at domination of the will, as we have seen. You are also adept at PsiTravel and your camouflaging is good. You can be still better at all of these, with suitable practice and study. In addition, you are a powerful summoner, as you call it, and you possess a high degree of human intelligence. Against all this, is your lack of ability to heal so grave a torment?’

  ‘It seemed that way, when I couldn’t help Tren.’

  He patted her hand. ‘But I could, and you had the means to bring him swiftly to me. The purpose was accomplished after all, even if you couldn’t do all of it yourself. Stop torturing yourself over it, my lady, please. More important matters are at stake than your self-image.’

  She was about to make a waspish retort to that sally, but he interrupted her with: ‘On which topic, how is that young man of yours? I haven’t had a moment to look in on him in a little while.’

  ‘Mending well, it appears,’ Eva replied. ‘He insists that he will be getting up soon, and defies me to prevent him.’ She chuckled at that thought, remembering the stubborn expression Tren adopted when she tried to persuade him to rest a little more. She knew she wouldn’t win this particular battle for much longer.

  ‘Good! As soon as he is fully restored to himself, we must be off. And the sooner the better, I think.’

  Eva nodded. Time passed very slowly in Limbane’s Library, compared to Eva’s world, but it did pass, and matters were now urgent. What might Krays be doing while Limbane’s forces recuperated and regrouped beyond the confines of Eva’s world?

  ‘What is the plan?’ she asked.

  ‘I want you to take me to that warehouse you discovered. I must examine it for myself. Further, we will visit the warehouse in Draetre that Mr Kant explored. Then we must consider the problem of locating Krays’s other endeavours.’

  Eva frowned at this unusually vague plan. ‘What are you hoping to learn, Limbane?’

  He waved a hand evasively. ‘Many things.’

  Her eyebrows went up at that. ‘Things,’ she repeated. ‘That’s... unspecific.’

  ‘Technologies,’ he said impatiently. ‘I need to know what Krays is building.’

  ‘So that you can guess at what he is using them for?’ she suggested.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do you think you will be able to guess, just by looking at them?’

  His brows snapped together. She’d learned that Limbane was a mild man, until you either failed to act quickly enough for his purposes, or questioned his methods in some way. Then he swiftly became intractable.

  Eva didn’t care. She had spent years immersed in the complex politics of the realm of Glour: she was used to dealing with difficult people.

  ‘Probably,’ he said in a hard voice.

  ‘Wonderful,’ she said. That was enough for now. She’d given Limbane the hint that a little more thought might be in order. She would press him about it again later. In the meantime, Tren would be getting bored, which meant that he, too, would be growing irritable.

  ‘I must go and keep Tren in line,’ she said with a smile. ‘If he gets bored enough, he’ll be practicing fencing in the corridors and who knows what will become of the wallpaper. Until later.’ She inclined her head to Limbane, ignoring his scowl, and left the lab.

  To her surprise, Tren was not alone in his room after all, nor was he bored. Nor, in fact, was he in bed. He was fully dressed and sitting in an armchair. Pensould sat in the adjacent chair, and the two of them were deep in conversation.

  Tren appeared to be doing most of the talking. His accompanying gestures looked oddly questionable, and he was so absorbed in whatever he was saying that he didn’t notice her entrance immediately. It was Pensould who looked up first.

  ‘Ah! Lady Eva,’ he smiled. She liked the way he said her name; though his language skills improved at abnormal speed, he hadn’t yet grasped the concept of titles. He pronounced “Lady Eva” as if it was all one word.

  ‘Pensould,’ she greeted. ‘What a pleasure.’ It occurred to her that he was looking much, much better than the last time she had seen him, and his manner was jovial. Not only that, but he was here instead of at Llandry’s bedside. ‘Dare I hope that this visit means Llandry is improving?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he beamed. ‘She is awake. She will be coming to see both of you soon.’

  ‘Oh, but we will go to her. I’m delighted that she is awake, but she must still be rather weak, yes?’

  ‘Quite,’ Pensould said gravely. ‘I have left her only because I wished to speak with Tren, on a private matter.’

  Tren coughed. Glancing at him, Eva noticed that he was looking acutely uncomfortable.

  ‘Oh?’ The news of Llandry’s recovery lifted her spirits enormously, banishing any lingering dejection over her latest failure at healing. She’d truly begun to fear that Llandry would never wake again. But Tren’s manner suggested that more was afoot here than mere celebration over Llan’s state of health.

  Pensould hesitated, but then the doubt cleared from his face. ‘But of course! I must consult you also, for you may give me the female’s perspective. Yes, that is a good plan.’

  ‘Pensould...’ Tren said faintly. ‘I’m not sure that this is entirely, er, proper.’

  ‘Proper?’ The draykon-man’s face registered confusion. ‘But how can it be improper? It is a natural process, in which all engage from time to time, no? Lady Eva will have much to tell me.’

  Tren lifted his eyes to the ceiling with an expression of despair. He slouched a little in his seat as though trying to hide himself, as Pensould rushed gamely on.

  ‘You see, Lady Eva, Llandry will soon be restored to her usual self and therefore I wish to... what was it that you said, Tren? Press my suit?’

  Tren merely groaned.

  ‘Yes, that was it,’ continued Pensould unfazed. ‘And she cannot doubt me any longer, I am sure, after all that has happened. But she is not yet entirely comfortable in her draykon shape; she is much more used to her human form, yes? And so I think it best if we begin the mating process in our current bodies, and perhaps the rest some later time. She will like that better, I am sure.’

  Eva blinked. ‘You... what?’

  ‘Mating,’ Pensould repeated with a big smile. ‘Such beautiful young we will have. But I am unsure how the procedure works among humans, and it is on this point that I thought to consult my good friend Tren.’

  Eva’s lips began to twitch. Controlling herself with an effort, she replied, ‘And has Tren been informative?’

  ‘Oh, very,’ Pensould assured her with lethal sincerity. ‘He has described the process in gratifying detail, and given some excellent advice besides. I find that the procedure is much more complicated among humans than among draykons.’

  Tren made a faint choking sound.

  ‘And therefore I am doubly glad that I asked, for I wouldn’t wish to disappoint her,’ Pensould added.

  Eva regarded him in silence for a moment, unable to speak around the laugh that threatened to overwhelm her. It was a pleasure to see Pensould in such good spirits; he had been so pale and drawn and silent while Llandry lay ill that Eva had been concerned for his health, too. Now relief had propelled him to the opposite extreme
.

  ‘How kind of Tren,’ she managed.

  ‘Yes, thoroughly. And now perhaps you will be so good as to give me your advice as well. Then I shall be ready.’

  ‘Ready for...?’

  ‘Oh, to press my suit, of course!’

  ‘Of course,’ Eva murmured. ‘Just one question, Pensould. Is Llandry aware of your plan?’

  ‘Certainly not! I wish for it to be a wonderful surprise.’

  ‘Mmhmm. If it is a surprise, I fear it may not be at all wonderful,’ Eva suggested. Pensould instantly looked so deflated that she almost regretted her words.

  ‘You think that she will refuse?’

  ‘Possibly. Among humans, it is considered advisable to do a little more courting before the suit-pressing. And certainly before the mating.’

  ‘Courting,’ Pensould sighed. ‘Tren has mentioned that as well. Flowers and things, and edible goods, yes? Will it be all right if I deliver them all at once? What would be considered a suitable quantity?’

  Eva’s self-control vanished and she began to laugh. Tren was grinning, too. ‘Not all at once, no. A bit at a time. The point is to approach her gently, take time to get to know each other. The flowers and edible goods are merely gestures.’

  ‘I see,’ said Pensould doubtfully. ‘But we already know each other.’

  ‘I think you understand her better than you did, but not well, yet. Llandry is shy, and even more unsure of herself than she is of you. It would be a mistake to rush her.’

  Pensould sighed. ‘That is your considered advice, Lady Eva? More edible goods?’

  ‘And no propositions just yet.’

  ‘Fine,’ Pensould said. Then he brightened. ‘Perhaps I could get some practice, while we are doing the edible-goods thing. Then I shall be better able to please her later. I shall find another female.’ He stood up, his energy restored.

  ‘No!’ Tren said, standing up to bar Pensould’s way. ‘Bad idea, Pense.’

  Pensould began to look irritated. ‘What, this too is not advised?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ Tren said. ‘If you, er, mate with one female while you’re courting another, they will both be angry with you.’

  ‘Tiresome,’ Pensould sighed. ‘What then am I to do?’

  ‘Be patient,’ Tren said with a smile. ‘Focus on Llandry. If you persevere, you will win her over in the end.’

  ‘You are sure, friend Tren?’

  ‘Positive,’ he said firmly. Then he cast Eva a brief, sideways glance. ‘At least, mostly positive.’

  Pensould looked at her. ‘I suppose Lady Eva agrees?’

  ‘Completely,’ she assured him.

  ‘Then you will not help me practice?’

  She was laughing again. ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  He nodded, resigned. ‘I will go in search of some of these edible goods. Bune will be able to help me.’ He turned to go, but then another thought occurred to him and he turned back. ‘If you are by chance looking for a mate, Lady Eva, let me recommend my friend Tren. He is very knowledgeable! I am sure he would please you.’

  Tren stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then slowly covered his face with his hands.

  ‘Thank you for the suggestion, Pensould,’ Eva managed to say, her teeth gritted against rising hysteria. ‘I’ll consider it.’

  He beamed. ‘I shall bring Llandry to you soon,’ he promised, and left.

  As soon as he was fairly gone, Eva abandoned all attempts at solemnity and began to laugh heartily. Tren’s extremely red face only amused her further, and it was some time before she could compose herself.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Tren muttered when she had finally stopped laughing. ‘I shall just collect a rope and find some nice, quiet place to hang myself.’

  She grinned at him. ‘Don’t do that, please, not when you have only just been put back together. Did you really advise Pensould?’

  ‘You mean did I really tell him how to mate? Of course I did. He can’t be turned loose on poor Llandry without some instruction.’

  ‘I hope he won’t scare her away,’ she mused. ‘If he came at me with that much earnest enthusiasm I think I’d run, too.’

  ‘He’s a charming fellow,’ Tren protested. ‘Odd, but he honestly cares for Llandry.’

  ‘Without doubt, in his own peculiar way.’

  With that observation the conversation promptly died. Tren, still embarrassed, wouldn’t meet her eye. Searching for a way to turn the subject, Eva came up with nothing but a lame enquiry after Tren’s health.

  ‘I feel pretty good,’ he said, still not looking at her. ‘Physically, anyway. My ego may never recover from this latest set-back.’

  ‘It was funny,’ she ventured.

  ‘I know. That’s the whole problem. Men generally prefer not to be a laughing-stock to the women they’re trying to impress.’

  ‘Somebody needs to tell that to Pensould,’ she agreed.

  Tren chuckled, and at last consented to meet her gaze. The look he gave her was painfully worshipful and full of hope. He may speak of embarrassment, but she guessed that Pensould’s parting words - and her reaction to them - had rather given him hope than otherwise. She’d laughed, but she hadn’t actually rejected the suggestion.

  She sighed inwardly. The problem of Tren was a plaguing one, for she felt herself entangled in a situation she couldn’t see a solution to. Tren had made his feelings clear enough: he’d been injured defending her against a mutual enemy, and before that he had told her that he loved her. She had kissed him as well, soon after Limbane’s healing had largely restored his health; but she hadn’t done it since.

  And that was because Tren did not fit into any of her usual categories. She was not usually shy about taking lovers; in fact she preferred to conduct her romances on a more casual basis than many people of her station, and though she had come close to marriage once she had not yet persuaded herself to go ahead with it.

  To use Tren in such a way, however, seemed wrong. He was more important to her than that; but could she actually marry him? Of course not. Everything about their separate situations told her that such an arrangement could never work. Tren felt that he loved her now, but she was not at all what he needed. In time he would realise that and find a girl near his own age, instead of thirteen years older. He would do better with someone nearer his own social status, too.

  But in the meantime he was persistent indeed, and she read an enquiry in the look he turned on her.

  ‘I need to consult you about something,’ she said quickly, forestalling any awkward questions.

  He said nothing for a moment, but then managed a smile. A flimsy one, but it was there. ‘Oh? That is quite a development.’

  ‘Is it? Why?’

  ‘You aren’t much in the habit of consulting me. Or anyone, really.’

  She grimaced. ‘You make me sound intolerably conceited.’

  ‘Well, and so you are. Also stubborn, and difficult, and completely maddening.’ He spoke teasingly, but she sensed that he meant most of it.

  Well, she deserved that.

  ‘It’s about Limbane,’ she persevered. ‘He wants to waltz into Krays’s warehouses and stare at his machines, and expects to learn a great deal that way without encountering any particular difficulties.’

  Tren sighed and sat down, waving a hand to her to take the other chair. She did so, watching him closely. He’d claimed to be fine, but he had sat down with particular care rather than throwing himself into the seat as he might usually do. His wound wasn’t perfectly healed yet, then.

  ‘Krays will catch him,’ Tren agreed. ‘Especially after Devary’s adventures in Draetre. He’ll guess that Dev told us all about it, which means he’ll either have moved his operations elsewhere by now or he’ll be keeping everything under close guard.’

  Eva nodded. ‘Limbane is terribly complacent. I think he’s been besting Krays for so long he can’t imagine failing to do so now, not even after his near-disastrous foray into Krays’s library not long ago.’
Limbane had taken a team of Lokants into Krays’s stronghold in order to rescue two hostages; he had prevailed, but two of his team had been badly injured and one had almost died. None of it had fazed Limbane at all; he accounted it a fluke.

  Eva doubted that very much.

  ‘I also doubt he’ll gain much by simply poking at machines, no matter how knowledgeable he is. He told us that Krays is one of the most imaginative engineers the Lokants have ever produced; I wonder if anyone could decipher his weird new works merely by looking at them. We need another idea, but I’m going to need your help to come up with something Limbane will agree to.’

  Tren nodded thoughtfully. He knew as well as she did how difficult Limbane could be about outside interferences.

  ‘I agree that those technologies seem to be the key to Krays’s plans,’ he said. ‘If we could find out what they are for, we might indeed learn - or be able to guess - what he’s up to. I’m not sure I buy the theory that he’s trying to unseat Limbane. All of this seems too complicated a plot for that.’

  ‘Exactly,’ she agreed. ‘I think Limbane’s blinded by the rivalry between the two of them. And it may be part of Krays’s plan, but I don’t think it is the whole. He’s taking some enormous risks, and all we really have is conjecture.’

  ‘We need to get at someone who’s close to Krays,’ Tren mused. ‘Somebody must be admitted to his confidence.’

  ‘Or at least parts of it.’

  Tren thought for a moment, and she wondered if he was reaching the same conclusion that she had come to. ‘It’s a shame that Devary has gone,’ he said, confirming that he hadn’t.

  ‘Why so?’

  ‘He’s right in the heart of that university Krays hijacked, the one in Draetre? And he said some of his colleagues are looking for a way to get rid of Krays. I wonder if they could help us.’

  ‘Possible,’ she agreed, feeling glad she’d asked him. This line of enquiry wasn’t one she’d thought of herself. ‘We can get him back. Llandry will want to see her mother soon anyway, I am sure.’

  ‘You think he’s still with Ynara?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think he’ll leave her until she’s well,’ Eva said. ‘He’s almost as bad as Pensould that way.’