Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series (51 page)

‘Look what he wears,’
Chakar murmured softly.

The egg pendant was
just discernible between the laces of the boy’s jerkin. The
pictures vanished.

‘No,’ Chakar admitted.
‘That is far from all I can show you, but I desperately need some
tea.’

Voron leapt to the
hearth to comply with the Observer’s wishes.

‘The old gods did not
spend all their time watching our lands alone,’ Babach said,
tugging his beard braids.

‘So it would appear,’
Chakar agreed. ‘And the affliction has begun, in one part of their
lands at least.’

Babach nodded. ‘They
write of it in their scrolls.’

Voron gave a steaming
bowl of tea into Chakar’s small hands and resumed his seat at the
table.

‘Baryet says that he
saw a girl with silvered eyes just before he left. He immediately
assumed that she was an Observer, but they denied it.’

Babach nodded again.
‘Their eyes do not apparently change as they progress through the
Stages of Wisdom, but since the affliction has visited them, some
have silver eyes and survived undamaged. They report that the
number of cases whose eyes turn silver is far less than the red
eyed ones.’

‘But they change
completely, all at once,’ Ren put in. ‘Ours alter through the years
of learning but their cases waken with fully silvered eyes. What
could this imply?’

No one ventured an
answer to Ren’s question.

‘In the scrolls, they
tell us of one man who they think is in part responsible for the
affliction. They warn very clearly that there must be another like
him in our lands. I fear I know who that one could be.’ Babach
stared across at Chakar. ‘It comes as no surprise, but it is still
a shock to find our suspicions hardening so rapidly into
certainties.’

‘They also ask if one
of us could journey with Baryet to talk with them.’ Ren studied his
hands. ‘They ask that if we do send someone, could they note
whether there are islands enough between our lands to make stepping
stones for their Dragons to use to reach us.’

Chakar held out her
empty bowl to Voron with a beseeching smile. He returned the smile
and obediently filled the bowl for her once more.

‘I confess I have flown
on Baryet’s back many times,’ she said. ‘His mate Syecha, is also
well used to me. I know Baryet can be,’ she paused. ‘Temperamental
might be the kindest description. But he would behave perfectly
with me though.’

‘You cannot risk such a
journey,’ Babach objected. ‘You are the leader of Myata’s followers
– you cannot be spared.’

‘What nonsense you talk
old man. You told me long ago that no one is indispensable.’ Chakar
retorted sharply. ‘You taught me everything if you remember, so who
better than you to remain in charge here?’

To his utter horror,
Ren heard his own voice speak, quite steadily, to
Chakar.

‘I would be proud to
accompany you to the Night Lands, Chakar.’

He was even more aghast
when her silver eyes with their dark green pupils looked straight
into his. She inclined her head slightly.

‘That would indeed be
most satisfactory, Ren Salar.’

Just as suddenly as the
affliction had begun in Vagrantia, so it ceased. Three days passed
with no new cases reported and people began to hope. By the sixth
day, even Thryssa managed a smile. There had been a total of
fifty-three cases in all, of whom twelve survived with silvered
eyes.

Thryssa secluded
herself in her private rooms within the Cordiva as soon as Emla
left for Gaharn with Maressa and Bagri. The fact that Emla had also
taken Elyssa, after the loss of Alya, had driven Thryssa close to
despair. Kwanzi was deeply worried by her state of mind. He had
never seen her cast down so low and indeed, he would not have
imagined her present state as a likely reaction to any difficulties
she might face.

Thryssa sat, silently
weeping for two days after Emla’s departure, refusing food,
refusing healers, refusing to go to bed, refusing Kwanzi’s comfort.
Finally, Lashek insisted on seeing her. He gently closed the door
on Kwanzi’s unhappy face and remained with Thryssa for the rest of
the afternoon. When he left, he merely told Kwanzi to take some
broth to his wife and put her to bed, but he was not to question
her.

Next morning, Thryssa
appeared about the Cordiva once more: thinner, older, but ready to
work for her people again. Gradually colour returned to her cheeks
and on the day that no new cases had been found for six full days,
Thryssa seemed nearly her old self. She held a meeting of Speakers
and councillors the next day. She introduced Pajar as her own new
councillor, with a warm smile. Pajar was a young man, obviously
named for his fiery red hair, who had never expected to rise to
this position at such speed. He had worked with and for Alya and he
was all too aware of how he sadly lacked her experience.

Messages arrived daily
through the circles from Gaharn and the Stronghold. The Speakers of
Kedara, Fira and Segra had all decided to stay on in the Cordiva
when the affliction first appeared. They mindspoke their deputies
each evening and worked in their own quarters to discover what they
might about the illness.

At today’s meeting,
Thryssa knew that Lashek at least was going to suggest that more
Vagrantians be sent north and west. She also knew that Kallema
would oppose him. Bracing her shoulders and lifting her chin,
Thryssa opened the discussion. She quickly found she had been
correct.

‘We should send some of
our people through the circles Thryssa,’ Lashek began at once.
‘Five only are at present working with the people of our old lands
of Valsheba.’

Brows lifted around the
table at Lashek’s use of the all but forgotten name of
Valsheba.

‘Two of my councillors
have already gone, including my daughter,’ Orsim
objected.

‘I volunteer none of my
people,’ Kallema murmured.

‘And I ask for no water
mages.’ Lashek managed a seated bow in Kallema’s direction. ‘I do
not mean that we should send great numbers, but we must not miss
this opportunity of acquiring much useful knowledge such as has
been barred to us since the catastrophe.’ He nodded to his
councillor, Shema.

Shema cleared her
throat. ‘Imshish is still within the Stronghold, studying their
crop growing system and learning a great deal about the small
people called Delvers. Several Assessors and researchers have
already approached Segra’s own Assembly, asking permission to
travel outside Vagrantia.’

Orsim sighed. ‘There
have been a few similar requests to Kedara’s Assembly,’ he
admitted. ‘If we send another six of our people, for instance,
surely the outsiders would expect to be permitted to come here –
that is of some concern to me.’

‘And to me,’ Kallema’s
voice rippled across the table. ‘If we send no one out, we would
want none to come into our Circle.’

The talk was going much
as Thryssa had anticipated and now she gave the faintest nod to
Pajar at her side.

‘Perhaps if any of the
outsiders wished to visit us, we could suggest they stay within
Parima Circle only, until a further judgement could be
made?’

Lashek smiled at the
young man. ‘That is agreeable to me, although I have to tell you
that Segra would welcome any visitors.’ He ignored Kallema’s glare.
‘You mentioned six people, Orsim – shall we choose two from each
Circle, excepting Fira?’

Orsim grinned, well
aware that Lashek had manoeuvred the conversation so as to gain
exactly what he had intended. He nodded. ‘I will tell my Assembly
to choose two they consider steady enough to deal with the
outside.’

‘I agree,’ said
Thryssa. ‘There have been several here in the Cordiva who have said
they would like the chance to see beyond Vagrantia’s
walls.’

‘One thing before we
end this meeting.’ Lashek’s tone caught everyone’s attention. ‘It
strikes me as more than coincidental that each of our Circles now
has three silver eyed people. More, in Segra at least, those three
were among the first to ask to travel through the circles.’ He
glanced enquiringly at the other Speakers.

‘My Assembly commented
on the same thing,’ Orsim agreed.

Thryssa nodded. ‘The
same here in Parima.’

They looked to
Kallema.

‘I will ask when I
mindspeak my Assembly later if you wish.’ The water mage’s voice
hissed like an overfilled streamlet.

‘Kallema,’ Thryssa
spoke quietly. ‘The three silvered ones in your Circle, they are –
safe – are they not?’

Suddenly there was a
tension around the council table as everyone waited for Kallema’s
reply.

‘They are being kept
apart,’ she said finally,

‘No.’ Thryssa stood up.
‘I will send an escort now, which will be accompanied either by you
or by your councillor here. The three of Fira will be brought here
at once.’

‘You have no right!’
Kallema spat.

‘As High Speaker I do
have every right Kallema, and if I fear for the safety of any of my
people – any of my people Kallema – I will take what action I deem
necessary to protect them.’ She turned to Pajar. ‘Make the
arrangements at once Pajar.’

Kallema and Prilla
moved from their places at the council table and followed Pajar
like a pair of storm clouds.

‘Did you know of this?’
Thryssa demanded.

Lashek shrugged. ‘Odd
bits of news come to my attention. I had heard that Fira was close
to disposing of the three silver eyed ones.’

Orsim frowned. ‘I
cannot pretend that I am not concerned at Vagrantia’s sudden
exposure to the outside world, but there is a wrongness in
Kallema’s attitude which worries me more.’

Orsim’s councillor
Dashka added: ‘We heard of some disturbances within Fira, but we
were not aware that it was over those three. Firans can be over
turbulent at times, as we all know.’

‘What should we do?’
Thryssa asked Lashek. ‘Each Circle governs itself more or
less.’

‘No,’ Lashek
interrupted sternly. ‘All the Circles are first and foremost
Vagrantian: we see ourselves as the survivors of Valsheba. The fact
that those who are called to use earth powers congregate within
Segra, those who work with air likewise prefer to live close to
each other, does not negate the fact that all of us are descended
from Valshebans: we are one people.’ Lashek looked to the High
Speaker.

‘Fira Circle has
withdrawn from the belief in our unity more and more. Much more
since Kallema became Speaker for their Circle. Fira is connected to
both Parima and Kedara, but Fira has made it increasingly
uncomfortable for any to enter their Circle.’

Orsim chewed his lip.
‘We of Kedara had begun to prepare a report Thryssa, on this very
matter. At first, we thought some of our air mages had met with
small accidents, encountered minor obstacles when they requested
access to Fira’s library for example. But it was becoming too
frequent.’ He shrugged. ‘Since the Chimes sounded, such apparently
trivial reports were set aside.’

Pajar returned from
overseeing the departure of an armed escort to retrieve the three
young people whose eyes had become silvered from Fira Circle. He
smiled ruefully at the remaining council members.

‘I had no idea that a
water mage would know such language, let alone that she would use
it!’

Far across Parima
Circle, the gateway was closed but, as ever, unlocked. It served
only as a warning to all that they should go no further. The narrow
tunnel led to Talvo, Circle of Fire, Gremara’s Circle.

The Dragon reclined on
her favourite ledge, moonlight winking on her silver scales. She
was disturbed, restless, unable and unwilling to sleep. She had
waited for so very long for a Dragon Lord to make himself known to
her. Her mind had nearly disintegrated at that wondrous moment when
she became aware of him. But Gremara’s joy had turned to rage when
her Lord had refused not only to let her join him, but had also
restricted their mind speech. Over the days, Gremara’s mind tilted
towards a destructive madness without quite succumbing to that
tempting fury. The small part of her that held tight to sanity, to
her memories, to her purpose, slowly grew larger, pushing the
madness to the edge of her mind.

The moon crept higher
over Talvo’s rim and Gremara’s tail lashed against the black rock
wall beside her. She watched the moon climb across the star
patterns, then suddenly she lifted into the night sky herself,
circling over Talvo, climbing ever higher. Her sinuous form – far
longer and more supple than was usual for a Great Dragon, spiralled
upward until she could see all five of the craters that formed
Vagrantia. She turned her head away from the ground and looked up
at the moon and the countless stars above her.

Gremara’s eyes
glittered like the stars themselves and she pushed herself higher,
away from the heaviness below to the lightness above. Faintly, from
a great distance she almost believed she heard music. Gremara
laughed, forcing her body upwards until the air felt less of a
resisting barrier to her even as it was more difficult to breathe.
The silver Dragon floated at that height, facing now the land far
below her, now the stars still so far overhead. Something whispered
across her mind as she drifted.