Draykon (22 page)

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Authors: Charlotte E. English

Tags: #sorcery, #sci fi, #high fantasy, #fantasy mystery, #fantasy adventure books

BOOK: Draykon
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'He's found
something?'

'Apparently.'

Tren went to his
knees, suddenly intent. He rubbed a hand over the earth and tasted
it.

'More blood,' he
said grimly. A soft cry sounded unmistakably, as if someone
smothered a whimper of pain. Tren's head shot up, alert, and Eva's
eyes widened. She knelt too, and reached out to the empty air over
which Rikbeek flew.

Her hands met a
solid object: cloth was under her fingers, damp and ragged. A gasp,
then, and the shape shifted under her fingers, flinching away from
her.

Tren
spoke.

'Ed?'

A momentary
pause, and then a flicker, and a tall man appeared, lying prone,
curled around his left side. He was shivering uncontrollably and
his eyes stared alarmingly. She dimly recognised the features of
Edwae Geslin, no longer fresh and youthful, now drawn and haggard.
His appearance of mild friendliness had vanished beneath an air of
desperation.

'Tren,' he
gasped. 'You... took your time.'

'You should've
told me,' said Tren sadly. 'You're hurt?' A dark bloodstain soaked
the ragged cloak Edwae wore, and his hands were clasped tightly to
his side. Tren moved to examine his wounds.

'No time for
that,' gasped Edwae. 'You must stop him.'

'Who?'

'Don't know who.
Made me change the Cloak... followed him here. There were....' he
stopped speaking for a moment, panting hard for breath. 'Whurthag,'
he managed at last. 'Beasts with him.'

'You don't know
who it was?'

'Disguised.'
Edwae, exhausted, let his head fall back into the mud. 'Wearing a
different face...' he mumbled. 'Think he was... going for a
gate.'

'There's no one
else here,' Eva murmured to Tren. 'Rikbeek would've found them
already.'

Tren nodded. He
gently prised Ed's hands away from his side. The fabric of his
clothing hung in tatters, and long, livid wounds striped his torso,
seeping blood in sluggish flows.

'Whurthag
wounded,' said Tren grimly.

'Tried to stop
him,' said Edwae. His voice was faint and his breaths came shallow
and infrequently.

'That was stupid,
Ed,' said Tren, trying to sound light-hearted; but Eva heard the
catch in his voice.

Edwae didn't
answer. His eyes closed, and he lay with unearthly stillness. The
sound of his breathing stopped.

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

The Mail Runner
stood outside the grand gates of the University of Waeverleyne,
nervously shifting her armful of packages. She was new on the job,
started only last week; maybe that was why she'd been shafted with
the task of delivering to the university. Everyone else had been
more adept at dodging this duty.

She knew what it
was she was carrying. The bulletins had been screaming about it for
weeks: all istore to be turned in, for the owner's own safety. To
be consigned to the care of Waeverleyne's scholars, who wanted it
for research purposes. Well enough, but who was willing to cross
Glinnery carrying such a thing these days? Remuneration had been
offered, but the frightened owners of the remaining istore pieces
preferred simply to be rid of them. And so, the mail. They packaged
them up and sent them away, leaving the mail runners to take the
risk. Her colleagues had been taking packages down to the
university all week. Guards roamed the perimeters of the university
grounds, a sight which alarmed her as much as it reassured
her.

She shifted from
foot to foot, waiting. It was early in the morning, true, but still
everything seemed too quiet. She'd been told someone would be there
to take the delivery. She juggled her parcels into the crook of one
arm and lifted the knocker again, rapping loudly. The crisp, sharp
sound split the silent morning air.

'Mail!' she
yelled. A sudden realisation smote her: she was probably at the
wrong door. Stepping back, she tried to identify some other
entrance, a smaller, more accessible one. Soaring glissenwol trunks
in rows met her eyes, many fitted with doors as well as windows.
How was she to determine which was the correct door for the
mail?

At last she heard
footsteps approaching. The gigantic doors remained firmly closed,
but a smaller door further down opened a crack. She drifted
downwards, flexing her wings to control her pace of descent. The
interior of the gigantic tree was dark; she could see nothing
around the door save the suggestion of a figure and the gleam of an
eye.

'Late,' somebody
muttered.

'I'm sorry, uh,
sir? It's really quite early for a delivery-'

'Hand it over.'
The door opened a little wider, but she still couldn't make out
anything inside the room save a patch of darkness that moved
towards her. Trembling, she dropped most of the parcels at the
figure's feet. The rest she placed into its hands, shuddering as
her fingers touched something chill and damp.

'Pick those up,'
said the voice. 'Bring them inside.' There was nothing in the tone
to tell her whether she spoke to a male or a female. Warily she
bent down, hands shaking as she scrambled to collect her dropped
packages. Something moved in the darkness, moved fast; a beast
leapt at her face and heavy jaws snapped at her neck. As pain
blossomed in her throat she heard a few sharp syllables, harsh like
curses, uttered in an unfamiliar language. Then her vision faded
and she heard no more.

 

***

 

Devary Kant
stepped beyond the confines of the Sanfaer house with a sense of
relief. Not that he had especially minded acting guard over Llandry
this past week; she was a sweet enough girl, when she managed to
address more than two or three syllables to him, and the days had
not passed unpleasantly. It was not in his nature to accept
confinement for long, however.

Aysun was
building something. He said it would replace the staircase that
wound up the side of the stout trunk of the house, some contraption
that couldn't be operated by the slew of beasts that still poured
through from the Uppers. Devary watched for a few moments,
endeavouring to make out the plan behind Aysun's busy activity. So
far he had constructed some kind of metal frame that climbed into
the air like a giant insect, swaying slightly in the winds. Now he
appeared to be building a box. Apparently it was commonly used in
Irbel, but Devary didn't remember seeing anything like it on the
one visit he'd paid there, years ago. He shook his head, walking
on.

He kept a wary
eye out for roaming creatures as he walked along what passed for
streets in Waeverleyne. The Summoners had been hard at work for the
last two days, clearing the city of beasts and the rogue gates to
the Uppers that were opening in ever greater numbers. They had
succeeded in stemming the flow, or so it appeared, for Devary saw
nothing untoward on his way through the city. He paused at the
first set of bulletin boards he reached, stationing himself where
he could read each of the three boards in turn.

The same headline
blazed from all three.

 

Break-in at University of Waeverleyne

The
respected University of Waeverleyne was broken into last eventide.
The object of the crime was undoubtedly the coveted istore stone,
for not a piece remains in the university's decimated research
laboratories. Nothing else appears to have been taken. More news as
we hear from our correspondents at the university.

 

Devary didn't
wait to read the rest. He broke into a run, heading for the elegant
cluster of trunks that made up the university grounds.

He encountered a
group of infirmary workers on the outskirts. The body of a
uniformed guard lay on the ground, bloodily wounded and evidently
not breathing; several healers were working on him, quite
uselessly.

'Was anyone
inside?' he gasped, out of breath. One of the healers looked up,
shook her head at him.

'Don't know,' she
said tersely. Devary ran on, pushing his way through crowds of
curious spectators. A glance upwards told him that the main doors
were closed. He slipped through a small door at the rear, pushing
his way through crowded reporters, police, infirmary workers,
researchers and professors. To his relief, he found Elder Ilae
Shuly standing in the centre of the chaos, directing the clean-up
effort. He looked up as Devary approached.

'Does Ynara know
about this yet? I sent a messenger not long ago.'

Devary shook his
head. 'That, I don't know. I heard the news from the
bulletins.'

Ilae grimaced.
'They're quicker than ever.'

'I was afraid to
see your name on the casualty list.' Elder Shuly, Ynara's closest
friend on the Council, was famous for the hours he spent at the
university, often staying well after it closed for the
day.

'It should have
been,' said Ilae bluntly. 'I developed one of my headaches
yesterday, and left early. I was home not much after sunset. Two of
my research assistants were here,' he added bleakly.

Devary winced.
'Were there any witnesses?'

'None surviving.
Which was, of course, the point. There were a few more patrol
guards on the other side of the university grounds, but they saw
nothing.'

'And the
istore?'

'Taken, down to
the smallest piece.' Ilae sighed. All of his vaunted energy seemed
lost; he looked every single one of his seventy-something years.
'Not that we were making any progress in the study. We lack the
expertise, perhaps. I had hoped to consult with Nimdre, however;
they've some specialist knowledge at the universities there. Oh -
you'd know, of course,' Ilae added with a nod to Devary.

'What of Glour?
They were forming a research team when Ynara left. They may be in
danger of a similar raid.'

'I've already
dispatched a note, but I imagine it will be too late for them to
act on it. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that a similar break-in
occurred somewhere in Glour City overnight. And really, I scarcely
know how they would do better in protecting the stuff; nothing
seems to hold against these people.'

Devary was
silent. He couldn't help sharing Ilae's opinion.

'What puzzles
me,' said Ilae abruptly, 'is how relentless this pursuit of the
istore is turning out to be. The Council ordered a strong guard on
the university, but I don't think we expected such an attack, not
really. We had a mere few miserable pieces of the stone left;
enough to study, not enough to be worth a great deal. One would
think.' He paused, frowning. 'Somebody seems determined to gather
up every last piece. If the intention was to deprive us of the
opportunity to study it properly, that's certainly been
accomplished.' He looked up at Devary, his eyes fierce. 'It only
makes me more determined. Apparently there's a secret here that
someone thinks is desperately worth keeping. I will find out what
it is.'

 

Devary made his
way back to Ynara's soon afterwards. He had a suspicion in mind
regarding the younger Sanfaer lady and her jewel crafting
activities. It was now urgently necessary to determine whether he
was correct.

Aysun was still
at work on his machine when Devary arrived.

'She's upstairs,'
he said. He didn't specify which lady he meant, but Devary found
both at home, seated in the parlour with cups of tea.

'Has the news
reached you yet?' he asked, bending to kiss Ynara lightly on the
cheek.

'What news?'
Ynara looked sharply at him. 'Bad or good?

'Bad,' he said.
'There is a messenger on the way from Ilae.' He recounted the tale
in detail, including everything Elder Shuly had said. Ynara set
down her cup and rose to her feet, brisk and
business-like.

'I'd better go
down there immediately.'

'Just one
moment,' he said, catching at Ynara's arm. He'd been watching
Llandry closely as he'd repeated Ilae's words about the istore
research. Her face had remained impassive, but she'd slipped one
small hand into her pocket as if checking for something.

'Llandry,' he
said, very seriously. 'Did you turn all of your istore over to the
university?'

She stared back
at him for a long moment, expressionless, unmoved.

'No,' she said at
last. 'I have one piece left.' She withdrew her hand from her
pocket, revealing a pendant glittering with the indigo stone. He
heard Ynara sigh.

'Oh, no,
Llandry...'

The girl shrugged
one shoulder. 'I couldn't part with it. I suppose it's lucky I felt
that way.'

'Lucky?' Ynara's
tone was dangerous.

'Yes,' said
Llandry coolly. 'If the rest is gone, we've one piece left to work
with.'

'Until that's
taken, too, apparently over
your
dead body.' Ynara was
working herself up into a fury. Devary stepped in quickly, taking
the pendant from Llandry's hand before she had chance to
react.

'I'll take care
of it,' he said firmly. 'Please, don't either of you mention its
existence just yet, not to anybody. Not even to Ilae, Ynara. I fear
there are listening ears in too many places. I will find a safe way
to tell him.'

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