Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (33 page)

‘Indeed.’ Sharalind’s voice took on a hard edge. ‘And like the rest of the Wizardfolk, his thoughts at the moment are fixed on revenge against the Phaerie. He is
currently training with the Luen of Warriors.’

‘It’s understandable, of course.’ Crombec replied in that same calming tone. ‘He is bound to be shocked and angry. Feelings would naturally run high in one so young, but
since his beloved sister is involved, it can only exacerbate matters.’ He sighed. ‘Poor Yinze. He talked of Iriana constantly when he was with us in Aerillia. Though she was not of his
blood, I know how much he loved her.’

‘At least
she
survived,’ Sharalind snapped.

Well, you needn’t sound as though you wish she hadn’t.

Kea couldn’t stop the resentful thought. It was just as well that
she
wasn’t having this conversation, she realised, and indeed it seemed that even Crombec was anxious to
shift onto safer ground.

‘Given the strength of Yinze’s feelings, do you think there will be a problem taking him away from the fight to help Kea and myself?’

Sharalind shrugged. ‘Our alliance with the Skyfolk is of paramount importance to Cyran and myself. Yinze’s personal considerations must not outweigh his duty.’

Crombec opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again, clearly reorganising his thoughts. He inclined his head in a bow to Sharalind. ‘My thanks, madam. Your duties must
weigh heavily on you at present – I will not keep you from them any longer. With your permission I will go and speak to Kea. I’m sure she will be most surprised to see her old teacher
again so soon.’ He flicked a glance up towards the parapet, and Kea ducked back down with a curse. She’d forgotten that, unlike the Wizards, the Winged Folk
were
accustomed to
looking up.

After a moment or two she dared another quick glance, but the path below was empty, and she heard a loud click as Sharalind closed the tower door behind her. Crombec, with outstretched wings,
was already gliding towards the centre of the city, and the house that Kea shared with Yinze’s female friends. Plague on it! There was no way she could get back before him. With another
muttered oath she spread her wings and launched herself from the top of the tower, following her mentor home.

Hot and out of breath, Kea landed in Thara’s garden, only to find Crombec, as cool and unflurried as if he’d been there all day, sitting by the fountain and accepting a glass of cool
elderflower cordial from Melisanda. She was shocked to see how pale and haggard the Healer looked, and remembered with a flash of guilt that she was not the only one who had troubles. Then Crombec
was calling to her and standing up with his arms outstretched, and for a few moments Kea forgot everything else in the joy of their reunion.

Melisanda, in the meantime, had been fetching another glass for Kea, and now she settled them both down at the round wooden table with glasses and a bottle of the cordial – Thara’s
own delicious recipe, Kea knew – between them. ‘I must get back to the Luen now,’ she apologised. ‘Tinagen chased me out to have a break, so I came back to check on the cub
that Yinze brought back for Iriana. Ludea – she’s the mortal servant who looks after our house,’ she added in an aside to Crombec, ‘is making you some supper, so
you’ll be fine even if none of the rest of us make it back this evening. Are your bearers settled, sir?’

‘Yes, indeed. Lady Sharalind arranged quarters for them, and I will be staying next door with Yinze and his friends, so that I can be close to my old pupils.’

‘I’m sorry we’ve afforded you such a poor welcome, but the way things are at present . . .’

‘Don’t concern yourself, my dear.’ Crombec smiled at Melisanda. ‘I understand the situation, and you have given me a delightful welcome. I will be quite happy here with
Kea to keep me company.’

When the Healer had taken her leave, he turned to his pupil with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Well met, my favourite pupil. Now – just how much did you overhear back at Ariel’s
tower?’

Kea blushed. ‘I’m sorry about that. I know you taught me better than to eavesdrop. But with the situation as it stands, I’ve been desperate for any information I could get
—’ She broke off and reached across to grasp her mentor’s hand. ‘Oh, Crombec, I’m so glad to see you! I’ve been so lonely and afraid. Lady Sharalind has been
arresting the Luen Heads who disagreed with her and I was afraid she’d take steps to silence the visiting Magefolk too, in case we reported back to our rulers.’

‘There there, my dear.’ Crombec patted her arm with his free hand. ‘You’re not alone any longer. Sharalind is aware that I must report this business to Queen Pandion, but
she won’t interfere with me, not in Cyran’s absence and certainly not when I came armed with a personal request from the Queen. If she has been listening to her soulmate at all in the
last few months, she will realise just how important it is, not just to the Wizards but to all the Magefolk, that I am allowed to complete my work.’

‘What work?’ Kea interrupted. When Crombec raised his eyebrows she added, ‘I didn’t overhear all that much; only what the two of you were saying after you had left the
tower. So I don’t know why you’re here – or why it involves myself and Yinze.’

‘Since I need your assistance, I have Queen Pandion’s permission to tell you everything, but what you are about to hear must be kept in the very strictest confidence . . .’
With that he went on to tell her about the visions of war and disaster experienced by the four Magefolk leaders, resulting in the very knowledge-sharing project which had brought Yinze to Aerillia
and Kea to Tyrineld. As he went on to tell her of the decision to build an artefact to amplify the power of each race, for use in times of desperate need, her eyes grew wide. ‘And this is why
you’re here?’

‘Exactly.’ Crombec took a sip of his drink. ‘A group of us have been working on the project in secret, but so far with very little success. It was only when our young Wizard
friend came up with his harp that we began to wonder: could we do something similar? But we need Yinze’s knowledge and expertise, just as we need yours, for I know that you were also very
much involved in the crafting of his harp.’

‘And because that trouble with Incondor forced Yinze back to Tyrineld, and me with him, you had to follow us all the way back here.’

Crombec grimaced. ‘Not the sort of journey I would have chosen. I’m getting too old now for such long-distance flights. However, since events here seem to be racing towards exactly
the sort of catastrophe that Queen Pandion and the others foresaw, it’s as well that I came when I did. We must get to work without delay, Kea. Our only problem is that we need Yinze to
cooperate, and Lady Sharalind thinks that might present a certain amount of difficulty.’

‘Difficulty?’ Kea frowned. ‘The way Yinze is feeling at present, I’d say it would be impossible. Lady Sharalind told you about the loss of his friend and his sister.
He’s determined to avenge them, Crombec. I never see him any more. He spends his whole time training with the Luen of Warriors, and plans to go with Sharalind’s forces when they leave.
You’ll never persuade him to stay tamely behind and help us.’

Crombec raised an eyebrow, and she caught a sudden glint of iron in his gaze. ‘Will I not, my dear? Well, we will see.’

Blazing with rage, Yinze stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him with an ear-splitting crash. His temper was not improved by finding Kea and his old teacher
Crombec waiting in Thara’s garden, drinking Thara’s cordial as if they hadn’t a care in the world. With a sweep of his arm he sent the bottle and glasses flying, to hit the
flagstones in a burst of shattered glass.

‘What in the name of perdition do you think you’re playing at?’ he shouted at Crombec. ‘What gives you the
right
to come marching in here as if you own the
place, telling me what I should do and where I should go? You’ve got a nerve to carry on as if you own my life. I don’t have time for this nonsense. I have business of my own to take
care of.’ As he spoke he strode back and forth with shards of the glassware crunching under his boots, spitting out a furious tirade that included not only Crombec but Kea besides, calling
her stupid, thoughtless, treacherous and selfish.

She opened her mouth – whether to protest or explain she wasn’t really sure – but Crombec lifted a hand and motioned her to silence. He simply sat there, in a ring of
splintered glass that glittered like diamonds in the moonlight, and waited until the young Wizard had shouted himself into silence. Then he got to his feet, spreading his great wings out behind him
like a mantle of shadow. ‘Fie,’ he said softly. ‘For shame, Yinze. Oh, not for attacking me – I have heard more than my fair share of youthful rages in my time, and they
bother me not one whit – but how dare you, how
can
you say such cruel things to Kea when she has never been anything other than your friend? She had no part and no say in any of
these decisions, yet you’ve abused her thoughtlessly and indiscriminately. She deserves better of you. Though she isn’t dead or missing, she still deserves your care and
compassion.’

Kea saw the Wizard’s face whiten again with anger.
What in the name of all Creation is Crombec doing? Yinze has just calmed down. What good will come of setting him off again?

This time, however, Yinze’s furious tirade was appreciably shorter, and ended abruptly on a choking sob. He turned on his heel and walked away from the Skyfolk, flinging himself down on a
bench beneath the downswept branches of a willow tree. Though he had turned away from herself and Crombec, Kea saw his shoulders heaving and knew that he wept.

At last she understood. Instead of letting himself mourn, Yinze had been using his grief to fuel his need for vengeance and bloodshed. Crombec had been drawing that violence out of him like
poison from a wound. Though every fibre of Kea’s being strained to go to him, to comfort him, she understood that this was not the time. It was better to let him grieve.

She and Crombec sat in silence for a time, watching the moon shimmer on the ocean and the bats darting low over Thara’s flowers, hunting insects. After some time had passed, Crombec raised
his finger in a circling motion, and Kea felt the tingle of magic at work. As she watched, the splinters and shards of glass rose up and gathered together in a miniature whirlwind to spin in the
air above the table, revolving in a spiralling dance that glittered like frost in the moonlight. Gradually the jewelled vortex began to coalesce, and sank back down towards the tabletop where it
settled into a cloud that gradually reformed itself into the cordial bottle and two glasses, intact and unscathed as they had been before.

Kea had never seen anything like it. ‘That was amazing,’ she said softly.

Crombec gave her a sad little smile. ‘But I can’t put the cordial back into the bottle. Even magic has its limitations. It cannot mend a broken heart.’ He looked up and Kea,
following his gaze, saw Yinze standing by the table and regarding them with ravaged eyes. ‘Nothing ever truly will,’ the old Skymage went on, clearly addressing his remarks to the
Wizard this time, ‘though time, and work, and the love of your friends will help to ease the pain. I cannot even begin to imagine how you must be grieving now, how torn and desperate and
hurting you must be, but please know that Kea and I care for you very deeply. If there is any way we can help you through these darkest of times, you have my word that we will.’

He pulled out another chair and gestured, but when the young Wizard remained standing he went on: ‘I understand, truly, that you feel the need to join the army and take action – but
please, Yinze, consider this: your harp of Air magic is unique. You are the only one who has crafted such an implement. Though I helped you with the physical structure and the details, as did Kea,
you are the one who imbued it with magic, and the only one who knows how that is done. If you go off with Sharalind’s forces and are killed, that priceless knowledge will be lost for ever. My
people’s only chance to make an artefact that can help us in the troubled times that have been foreseen will be gone.’

Yinze leant forward, and looked deep into Crombec’s eyes. ‘I. Don’t. Care.’

Crombec sighed and sat back. ‘What is hurting you most of all, Yinze?’

For a moment the Wizard looked taken aback. He stood in thought for a moment, then suddenly sat down. ‘It’s Iriana. Oh, I know she isn’t dead like Avithan and Esmon, and
that’s something to be grateful for, but something happened to her – something devastating, and she’s out there somewhere in the wilderness. I don’t know where she is,
what’s happening to her, if she’s lost, afraid, in danger or already hurt, and I can’t help her while I’m stuck here in this accursed city. To go with the army is my only
chance of finding her.’

‘The army is no good to you,’ Crombec said flatly. ‘Wherever your sister is, it cannot bring you to her in time.’

Yinze leapt up, knocking his chair over with a clatter, and hammered both his fists down on the table. ‘Don’t you think I
know
that? But I’ve got to do something! If
you think I’m just going to sit here in Tyrineld making an accursed harp for you while Iriana is out there somewhere—’

‘What if there’s a better way?’ Crombec’s quiet words had all the power of a thunderclap.

Kea stared at her mentor, open-mouthed. Yinze, as if in a daze, set his chair back upright and sank down into it, naked shock on his face. ‘What do you mean, a better way?’

‘I brought bearers with me, Yinze. I thought I might need to stay for some time, so I needed to bring a fair amount of clothing, a number of volumes and scrolls for research, and all my
tools and equipment to craft a harp. In addition, Queen Pandion insisted on an escort for my protection in these troubled times.’ He leant forward. ‘If we fly, we can move many times
faster than an army on the ground. We can take you to your sister, and, more importantly, bring her back with us.’

Hope blazed up in Yinze’s eyes, so painfully bright that Kea could hardly bear to look. ‘You would really do that? You’ll help me bring Iriana home?’