‘Well, there you go then.’ Andraly stood up and started for the door.
‘That isn’t an explanation, Andraly,’ Eva said.
‘What?’
‘So Limbane’s your grandfather. Why does that put you here, telling me he isn’t to be trusted?’
Andraly rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll spell it out for you. The man is an idiot, all right? He’s so busy playing his games, he doesn’t even think about trivial matters like self-preservation. If Krays is out to destroy him, I’d rather he didn’t succeed. Now my absurd grandparent is sending you two off to uncover the Truth, supposing there is such a thing, but without giving you the full story. Stupid?’
‘Stupid,’ Eva agreed.
‘Right. You ought to know what’s really going on, but he won’t tell you; he’s too busy being Secretive.’ She pronounced the word in a big way, her tone dripping scorn. ‘So, take my warning. Don’t believe everything you’ve been led to think, because you’re being deceived on all sides. And that’s enough from me. Good luck, and try not to die - at least not before you bring me back my secrets.’ She gave an ironic little bow and left.
Chapter Fourteen
If Llandry had been harbouring hopes that Siggy concealed a vast intelligence somewhere in that tiny head of his, she was disappointed. Being in Sigwide’s head was like floating in a vast bank of clouds. Fluffy, pleasant and decidedly lacking in substance.
Not that she minded. As long as he had food and Llandry, he was probably the happiest creature in Waeverleyne.
I need your help, Siggy, she told him, once she was comfortable in this new perspective.
Sigwide responded with a wordless question.
There are some more ortings out there. I need you to bring them to me.
Her developing draykon senses revealed a few more of Sigwide’s species, one or two close to the city and others further out. She had placed herself on the edge of Waeverleyne, at the base of a tall glissenwol tree. Halfway up it hung the remains of a house, abandoned and partially destroyed, but it was enough. If she got into trouble, her wings would carry her up there and out of harm’s way.
Here? Siggy questioned.
Right here. I’ll be waiting. Llandry demonstrated this by sitting down in the moss and crossing her legs.
Sigwide toddled off. She watched as his soft, grey-furred form wiggled slowly out of sight.
Siggy? Be careful. Dangerous animals about.
He didn’t answer that, but she sensed a touch of scorn from her easy-going Siggy. He may not be the brightest soul, but his survival instincts worked just fine.
It wasn’t long before he’d rounded up the pair of ortings that had been heading towards the city. He came back, trailing them both behind them. The newcomers were quivering with tension, their noses twitching frantically as they tested the air for threats. Touching their minds, she sensed turmoil. They had probably only come through the gates within the last few hours, and had spent that period of time wandering the Glinnery forest in a haze of confusion and panic.
Good, Siggy, she said, rewarding him with a dried nara fruit. And the rest, in a minute.
Sigwide finished the fruit quickly and set off again, leaving his two new friends with her. They crouched at her feet, trembling, minds blank with fear. They were a mating pair, she soon realised.
Beginning with the female, she began the process of gently merging their two minds. She expected some resistance, but instead encountered, if anything, relief, as though the terrified little creature was grateful to have responsibility taken from her for a time. It didn’t take long to calm her.
This time she didn’t release the female first before she began her work with the second. As an experiment, she tried the mind-merge on both at the same time. It was hard. She was three personalities at once, her vision and awareness split three ways. The conflicting perspectives made her nauseous and she quickly closed her eyes.
That helped. Her vision reduced to the twin perspectives of the two ortings sitting side-by-side before her. She could see herself, though not clearly; the ortings focused mostly on her feet and legs and couldn’t see much further up. Her feet looked enormous.
One of her questions was answered, then. She could merge her mind with more than one creature at once, but it wasn’t a successful approach. Any more than two would render her incapable as she struggled to cope. She would have to limit herself to working directly with a few animals and trust them to carry her message further.
The two ortings climbed warily into her lap, already much calmer. Their affliction was odd; it felt to her like somebody had taken a spoon to their thoughts and stirred them up into a hopeless mess. Come to think of it, Iskyr felt the same, the currents of its natural energies mixed into a violent whirlpool. But the remedy was simple, at least for these small, simple creatures. She straightened out their awareness the way she might neaten a drawer full of trinkets. When she was finished, both were restored to the serenity Sigwide enjoyed.
Now for the final step. Their image of her was that of a preserver; they’d swiftly elevated her to something near hero status. That meant they already trusted her: good. Rheas had spoken of fear, told her to ensure they were too terrified of her to trespass on her territory. She rejected that. Instead she chose to instruct. She showed them Waeverleyne, and encouraged them to stay away from it.
It’s not very nice anyway, said the female. In her mind was an image of the forests beyond the borders with their deeper, thick, delicious-smelling mosses and the berries that grew on the low-lying bushes. Her mate purred his agreement and the two wandered off.
Llandry watched them go, feeling a little worried. They were well again now, but would they remain that way? She hoped so. Most of the turmoil was coming from Iskyr and Ayrien. While they remained in the realms in between, all should be well.
Hopefully.
Sigwide returned with an entourage of three friends, and she repeated the process with each in turn. When she was finished, she tucked Siggy back into his carry pouch and headed back into Waeverleyne. If any more ortings came through, those five would share her thoughts and instructions with them. All well and good. Now to repeat this process with all the other misplaced beasts. The naturally aggressive ones would be a bigger challenge.
Siggy, she murmured, watching him coil himself back into his mobile sleeping bag. You staying? Seeing those five ortings wandering the wild, some with their life-mates, had made her think. Siggy had been happy with her, but he’d missed out on a lot too.
He merely sent her a wave of affection in response, then went to sleep.
Well, that was clear enough. She smiled, and went in search of Ori and Avane.
The three of them had split up earlier, each to forge their own relationships with various of the species that wandered Waeverleyne. They had agreed on a place to meet when they were finished. Llandry found she was the last to return.
‘Success?’ she asked, pleased to see them both smiling.
‘All irilapters reported stable,’ Ori said.
‘As are the woles,’ said Avane. She’d chosen the woles because they were tiny, small enough to fit into her hand. They had colourful fur, enormous eyes and a penetrating call. They were a good choice for a woman still unsure of her abilities. ‘Intelligent little things,’ Avane added. ‘In spite of appearances.’
‘Can’t say the same for the irilapters,’ Ori grinned. ‘But I got the message through.’
‘Then it’s time to be more ambitious. The dangerous ones ought to be dealt with next. I’m going to suggest we group up with the summoners and sorcs for this, in case of trouble.’
‘Shouldn’t we just let them deal with it?’ Ori asked. ‘If they’re dangerous, I mean. They could just be sent back to Iskyr.’
Llandry shook her head. ‘They’re sent back, they come back through. The gates are still out of control, so the summoners are just going in circles. And if we calm them down and send them back, they’ll just be deranged again. I think w
e have to accept that they’re here to stay, at least for a while, and we have to deal with them here.’
Ori nodded. ‘Logical. Curse it.’
‘Not looking forward to grappling with a maddened drauk?’ she teased.
‘What, are you?’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘No. Not even a little bit. But it has to be done, and we’re the only ones who can deal with it.’
Avane frowned at that. ‘Can’t the summoners...?’
Llandry couldn’t answer that question. She had never had formal summoner training, so she didn’t know what they could or couldn’t do. ‘Ori?’ she said. ‘I suppose not, or they would have by now.’
Ori was shaking his head. ‘Ordinary summoners form bonds with animals, that’s true, but they’re shallower and more distant. The summoner remains wholly human. I suppose it’s like trying to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t speak your language; you accomplish it through gestures, or in this context by conveying feelings, sensations, impressions. Some of the more powerful ones have done all right with calming individual animals, when they’ve had the opportunity, but mostly they haven’t - they’ve been overrun with beasts. And it would take much longer to do that with ordinary summoner skill, because you can’t climb inside that creature’s head and fix it from the inside, the way we’ve been doing.
‘And you know, if you want to convey anything remotely complex to an animal, that’s much harder,’ Ori continued. ‘We want them to not only absorb these ideas but pass them on, too, which is necessary in order to create a lasting solution to this problem. The most powerful natural summoners may be able to master this trick, and we’ll try teaching it, but for now it’s going to be us.’
Avane looked disturbed. Thinking of the quantity of beasts that must be wandering Glinnery just now, displaced and muddled, Llandry didn’t blame her. It would be a long job, but once they’d worked with at least a few of each species, hopefully the task would be largely complete, for those few would work in turn with others of their own species. Even the ortings had left with a fairly clear idea of what they needed to do to calm their fellows.
‘Maybe Pensould can help?’ said Avane.
‘Probably, though I don’t know when he’ll be finished helping Papa. We’ll have to just get on and hope he finds us before too long.’
‘Question,’ Ori said, raising a hand as if he was in class. Was he making fun of her? She scowled at him.
‘Sorry.’ He grinned and let his hand drop. ‘I’m sort of wondering why Pensould didn’t tell us about all of this. Kind of odd that it was your grandpa?’
Llandry shrugged, hiding the discomfort Ori’s question gave her. ‘I’ll ask him sometime.’ And she would have to. Why would Pensould fail to mention something so important?
She shook that thought away. ‘We ought to pass this new technique along right away, see if any of the other summoners can master it. Eyas said he was willing to help; perhaps we can find him?’
Ori volunteered himself. ‘I seem to have done well with the teaching part. Why don’t I do that first, and I’ll catch up with you later?’
Llan frowned. ‘This is urgent, Ori.’
‘Teaching Eyas is also urgent. Waeverleyne isn’t alone with this problem, don’t forget: the rest of Glinnery and the other Realms are probably experiencing the same trouble. If Eyas is strong enough to master this method, he needs to know about it now, so he can get the other summoner guilds working on it.’
Llandry blushed, mortified. He was right: how could she have been so focused on Waeverleyne that she forgot about everything else? It was her home, yes, but that wasn’t much of an excuse.
‘Sorry,’ she sighed. ‘Talk to my father; he’ll probably know where to find Eyas.’
Ori nodded. ‘I’ll be back to help you two as soon as possible, all right?’
Nineteen hours later, Llandry was burning with exhaustion. She’d been assigned three summoners and a sorc, and together her group had roamed Waeverleyne ceaselessly until every misplaced creature had been soothed and taught and sent away, ready to take care of any more of their own species that wandered through the gates. Once her assigned sector was clear, she’d gone to help Avane; the older woman was doing well but her confidence grew slowly and her pace wasn’t fast. Ori had joined the effort halfway through, with good reports to make of Eyas: the Irbellian summoner had struggled with the technique, and his grasp of it was weak, but it was enough. He had now gone to the High Summoner with the idea, carrying a full report of Llan, Ori and Avane’s doings with him. Eyas was to ensure that the teachings were sent out across the Seven at the earliest opportunity, even though it would mean pulling the most powerful summoners out of the patrols.
By the end of the day, the howls and cries of Iskyr’s refugees had quietened and the city seemed eerily silent in contrast. The din of the animals had hidden the unnatural emptiness of Waeverleyne, but now it was ominously clear how much damage the draykoni had already done. City government had been moved to a nearby village, a settlement so small that they hoped it would be overlooked by the enemy. Those citizens who had survived the attacks had now fled out into the Glinnery countryside, as convinced as Llandry was that the draykoni would return. All that remained in Waeverleyne was the necessities: the defending forces, the fire fighters (most of them), an official or two and Aysun’s engineers.
Tired as she was, this was too much. She made her way back to the heart of the city with tears running down her pale cheeks, too exhausted to stop them.
When Ori saw her, he said nothing, merely folded her in an embrace. She clung to him, unconcerned that she hardly knew him. Shyness and awkwardness were forgotten in the wreckage of her peaceful life.
‘We’ll mend it, Llan,’ Ori said when he finally let her go. ‘We’ll mend it all.’
She nodded, taking comfort from the conviction of his words. Not a trace of doubt marred his determination.
‘Is Avane back?’
He nodded. ‘Just a few minutes before you. She’s gone to rest. You should, too.’
‘I will,’ she promised, though she wouldn’t right away. She wanted her mother, and just now Ynara was with the rest of the city government a few miles to the southeast of Waeverleyne. She would find just enough strength to get herself there. After that, she would sleep.
‘Bed,’ Ynara said as soon as she saw her daughter. ‘No arguments.’
‘Just tell me you’re all right,’ Llandry said, smiling tiredly, ‘and I’ll go.’
Ynara turned slowly in a circle before her, holding out her arms and hands. ‘See? No holes. We’re all in one piece here.’
‘You could do with a rest too, Ma, I think,’ Llan said, looking into her mother’s drawn face. Her honey-gold skin had lost some of its lustre, her hair was an unbrushed mess and her clothes were rumpled. All this was unlike her vibrant, energetic parent.
‘Soon,’ she promised. ‘I have a couple more things to take care of.’
Llandry allowed herself to be led away. Ynara had been loaned a little farm cottage, whose owners had decided they were better off getting as far away from the capital as possible. She settled into her mother’s narrow, borrowed bed, accepting a goodnight-kiss with a tired smile. When Ynara had gone, Llandry expected to fall asleep instantly. Instead, she began to worry.
Pensould. Always he was so difficult to understand. He wasn’t of her world, or even of her time; there was a gulf between them that seemed wholly impassable. Where did his priorities really lie?
She remembered Ori’s question. Why hadn’t Pense told her before about the draykon bond with animals? Why would he hide such a thing, when he was her only source of information? He knew she relied on him. Could he possibly have motives she didn’t know about, and couldn’t understand? Did he have more sympathy with the enemy draykoni than she knew?
Llandry sighed and made herself relax. She was so tired. At length she slept, only to dream of Pensould turning into Isand and destroying her parents’ home.
Her mother’s beautiful face was so sad, Llandry immediately feared the worst.
‘Ma? What is it? Not... Pa?’
Ynara waved that away. ‘No, no. Your father’s well. I just had a visit from one of his men.’
‘And?’ Llandry waited, worried that something had gone badly wrong with his machines.
‘People are stealing,’ Ynara said, her voice shaking with anger. ‘Looting from their neighbours’ houses. Can you believe that?’
‘What people?’ The city had been so quiet a few hours ago, it had seemed all but deserted. ‘I thought everyone had left.’
‘Most have. I suppose that’s what gave some of them the idea. All those homes and businesses lying empty.’ She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. ‘Your papa sent a man over with a note, wondered if the council can do anything about it. I can’t think what, though, Llan. Law enforcement is a shambles at the moment, like everything else.’
Llandry’s feelings echoed the anger and sadness she saw in her mother. That some of her own countrymen could do such a thing, in such desperate times! When Waeverleyne’s population returned, were they to find their homes emptied of valuables, their businesses stripped of goods? Intolerable.
‘I’ll fix it, Ma.’
‘Oh? How are you going to do that?’
‘Just leave it to me. I don’t have time to explain.’ She gave her mother a quick kiss and a smile. ‘I’ll let you know when it’s done.’
‘Wait... Llan?’
Llandry didn’t answer. She was already out the door on her way back to Waeverleyne.
Not all of the more aggressive creatures had been intransigent. Llandry went out into the forests on the wing, looking for two species in particular. The ayverties were as tall at the shoulder as she was, their heavy bodies covered in thick blue-white fur. They had powerful jaws, strong teeth and a taste for meat. They were also very intelligent. She found one wandering the forests about a mile from Waeverleyne.
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