The talespinners' buildings were strung between them; some perched on solid ground, others suspended precariously over nothing but air. A series of flimsy looking rope and hemp ladders provided access to these little islands. The major one—which was not that major—was styled Elraban. Talespinners did have a way of inflating every little detail.
The Vaerli flicked her gaze upwards for an instant to check on the progress of the Swoop. They seemed to be enjoying the chase as much as she was. The great Whitefoam eagle spun above her; Azrul was content perhaps to have the high thermals while the smaller birds of the Swoop dived around Talyn.
It was a blessed carefree moment that was about to be utterly spoiled—because now there was no mistaking the other visitor that the talespinners had. Wahirangi CloudLord, Finn had named him, and he was just as magnificent as the last time Talyn had laid eyes on him.
He was perched on one of the outer islands, his claws clenched on the crumbling rock, his wings wrapped around him, as he stood as tall and commanding as a sentinel. He had his back turned to the magnificence of the sea, and his huge opal eyes fixed on all the comings and goings of the talespinners. Without saying a word, he gave the deep and real impression that he was the guardian here—and the inhabitants of Elraban Island had never been safer.
Above Talyn, the Swoop finally saw him and scattered from their games about her. The dragon’s head turned to regard the lowly creatures. They might as well have been pigeons in his eyes, the Vaerli supposed.
It was, Talyn thought idly as the Swoop broke apart in squawks and keens, going to be difficult to get him to destroy the scroll she carried when he was isolated over there like that. All those problems lay ahead.
Syris pressed his head forward, and the drumbeat of his gallop increased in tempo, as if he too were feeling the sting of being smaller than Wahirangi. The nykur soon brought Talyn right to the gate of the talespinners’ refuge. From this angle, she was higher than the dragon, but his head was still in view, and she knew full well she had his attention. Those opalescent eyes carried a great weight with them when they were fixed on her.
One quick glance above told her that the Swoop was confused and not willing to land. It was understandable; up until only moments before Azrul had probably been confident that she was working for the most powerful being in Conhaero. It would take some readjustment.
Talyn swung down from Syris and looked about her. Talespinners might be daring with their architecture, but they were not much on defenses. The entrance to the whole complex of homes was one simple, woven doorway, leading out onto the rope bridges.
“Welcome, once-was Hunter,” a voice croaked only a few feet away from Talyn.
She leapt back, and had pulled out her pistol and aimed it in the direction of the greeting before she’d had time to think. It was not often that someone caught her unprepared, but as the features to one side of the entrance moved, she was able to discern that it was not part of the rock, but an actual man.
His clothing was perfect camouflage, blending in with the gray and brown rocks. He even wore a hat, which when tipped down obscured his face and resembled more of the cliff. As she got a closer look at him, he did not appear to be much of a guard for the entrance.
She was not a good judge of the age of the Manesto people, but she hazarded that this man was well past the age where moving was expected of him. He had the craggy features and deep wrinkles of one who had seen too much of the sun and weather. Yet his eyes, when they met hers, were gleaming with intelligence.
He had startled Talyn so thoroughly that she found herself wondering what powers he might possess. “How do you know that about me?” she demanded.
He grinned, exposing a generous band of broken and missing teeth. “By the clouds in the sky, the scampering of the ants, and the call of the fish in the sea.” He laughed uproariously, slapping his knee as if he had made a fine joke. “No, I tell a lie, I know because he told me. Your lover, Finn the Fox.”
It was embarrassing to feel herself flush at this impertinence, but Talyn did. She had fallen for that one. Still, she was not going to deny it—that would only make it worse. Instead she frowned at the man. “How does one gain entry to the city? Is payment due?”
She must have seriously affronted the man, because he rose off his perch and staggered a few steps toward her. “You dare,” he roared, before breaking into a round of heavy coughing. “You dare to speak of money, when legend itself is being born.” He waved his hand in the general direction of Wahirangi, who had not shifted his gaze one inch from Talyn.
The gatekeeper cast his eyes upwards and regained his smile. “But you have brought the scion’s Swoop with you, so I shall forgive you! What a joy to see them again!” His face creased into such a beatific smile that Talyn forgot for a moment all that was around her—the White Void, the cruel Phage, and even the dragon watching her mistrustfully over the cliffs.
“May I come in then, Master?” she asked hesitantly, wondering if her presence would break something. Though she had little respect for many of the newcomers to Conhaero, the Talespinners of Elraban reminded her very much of the storytellers of her own time. That was, she suspected, why it had been so easy for Finn to entrance her. It was ironic indeed that now she was pursuing him to ask for a favor.
The old man tilted his head, and held out his hand to her. “I am Koth, First Teller of Elraban, and all are welcome here.” He gave out a short laugh. “Indeed, were the Caisah himself to pay us another visit, we would still welcome him in.”
It was some kind of miracle that such people survived in Conhaero, but Talyn did not say as much to his face. What was more, he knew who she was. She did not have time to ask him what he meant by “another visit” before the air was suddenly alive with feathers and transforming women.
The Swoop dropped elegantly from the clouds on predators’ swift wings. Soon there were a dozen armored women facing the First Teller. He looked as pleased as if jewels had just rained down on him. Being a talespinner tethered to the island instead of out exploring the delights of the world did seem a little lonely.
“The Swoop of One-eyed Baraca!” Koth exclaimed, clasping his hands together.
Azrul made a bow to the First Teller, but did not enter immediately, and Talyn knew why. “A dragon?” was all the leader of the Swoop managed to croak out.
“Legends come to life makes for interesting times,” Koth observed in what had to be the grandest understatement Talyn had heard for a good long time. “We have had many visitors of late, but Wahirangi CloudLord is certainly the grandest.”
Talyn understood her friend’s reaction, the dragon—even when seen from a distance—did take away a person’s breath. Up close he was even more scintillating.
“Well,” Azrul said, her smile bright, but her eyes wide as she tried to regain her composure, “we will be grateful that he seems polite enough.”
It was not easy, but Talyn managed to conceal her grin. She knew it was not just the dragon. It had been a long time since the Swoop was welcomed in such a manner. They had been tainted by the Caisah much as Talyn had been.
Azrul cleared her throat. “We have come to speak to your dream sages, and share what our master has been experiencing of late.”
The cheery grin on Koth’s face faded. “Yes, we know of what you speak. Enter and take the first left into the sages’ chambers. I think they have been waiting for you.”
“Thank you, First Teller,” Azrul said, her politeness was rather off-putting since Talyn knew her for her more brash nature. Something had softened the edges of her friend.
She drew the Vaerli off to one side as Koth settled back in his spot, blending in with the rock face.
“I will perform my charge as I must, but I want to speak to you afterward.” She folded her hand over Talyn’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I see something new and sad in your eyes . . .”
“It has always been there,” the Vaerli replied, “but I appreciate your care, Azrul. I to
o have my task.”
“Yes, we all have our duties that pull us apart,” Azrul said, and her voice was stained with genuine sadness. “Still, we will roost here until the talespinners have studied the dreams of the scion. It will be good to rest for a while.
It was apparent that today was not the day that they would get to share apple tea. Talyn thought of the last moments they had passed together, when they had really been able to talk in the sanctuary of the Lady of Wings. She did not share her doubts with Azrul, that they would never be able to have that again. Instead, she nodded and turned back to her mount.
She overheard the leader of the Swoop instructing her soldiers to wait for her here. The talespinners were bound to be leery of such a show of military force. Some remained in human form to perch on the rocks and take what rest they could, while a few others returned to the sky to keep an eye on the area. Talyn thought them brave souls, considering the dragon.
For herself, the Vaerli went to the nykur, who she could have sworn was irritated by the presence of the dragon. He was used to being the center of attention.
Ignoring his reactions, Talyn clenched her hand in his hair.
“Wait for me,” she whispered to him, “it could be a trap.”
The nykur tossed his green head and stomped one huge foot as if to remind her that he was his own creature. He had found her after all this time, and he was not likely to leave her behind now.
Talyn had a sudden thought, and turned back to Syris. “Oh and leave the old man’s fingers on his hands, please.”
The creature of chaos rolled his dark eye. She was not sure if that was a reassurance or not. Then she followed Azrul onto the rope bridge, which did not encourage much confidence when it creaked so alarmingly. Talespinners were not known for their abilities with their hands, and she wondered idly if the whole thing would end up tipping them into the rushing waves below.
Azrul found her junction easily enough, but seemed a little reluctant to go down it. She held on to the rope by her head and turned around to look at Talyn. “I don’t suppose you can tell me why you are here, can you?”
The Vaerli twisted her lips. “No, I am afraid not. Don’t worry, I will find you later.” She hated lying to her friend, but she would not tolerate pity from her. Every sorry thing that had happened since they parted she would keep to herself.
The leader of the Swoop gave a sharp nod and headed off in the direction she had been told to go. It was hard for Talyn to tell, but she got the impression Azrul was hurt. So be it. The Vaerli would rather have her friend angry with her, than feeling other softer emotions.
Unlike Azrul, Talyn had been given no instructions to find Finn. It was largely typical of their meetings. As she picked her way along the rats’ nest of swaying tubular rope bridges and tiny rooms with the occasional talespinner teaching a class, she caught brief glimpses of the dragon through the gaps in the walls.
The sun was beginning to set, and the light was striking every smooth, gleaming surface of him. The beast had undoubtedly picked the spot for this very reason. They might be mighty, but Talyn had heard the stories—dragons could be excessively proud creatures. There was certainly much to be proud of.
It did not go unnoticed by Talyn that Wahirangi’s head turned to follow her as she scrambled about the rabbit warren that was Elraban Island. After a while it started to annoy her instead of frighten her. She knew a little about the Naming of Kindred, and she knew more than a little about Finn the Fox. What Talyn was fairly sure of, was that he still had no real concept of what he had done. Perhaps she would explain it to him, just in case things started to take a turn. She might not have the chance when the Phage called her to heel again.
She was thinking about that, rolling the idea about in her head, when she heard his voice. Talyn stopped abruptly, swaying slightly on the rope bridge, with her head cocked to one side. At first she thought he was telling a story—maybe educating a few trainee talespinners, but then the rhythm of the speaking told her that it was a conversation, not a myth being retold.
Finn’s voice was one she could have picked out from amongst a thousand—well, at least since he had brought back all the memories of him she’d elected to lose. That was the kind of man he was. Irritating. Frustrating. Unforgettable.
She glanced to her right and caught Wahirangi flex his wings once, and then shutter them around himself. Perhaps some kind of dragon amusement, Talyn wondered as his tail wrapped tightly around the rock on which he perched. It was sometimes easy to forget that he was Kindred on the inside, but in this moment she could almost feel the creature of chaos watching her, peeling back the layers of her soul, even from this distance.
So she simply strode away from his regard, and toward where she could hear Finn talking. It was not much better walking that way, since her stomach was clenched like it had been punched, and she had a strangely dry mouth. She and the talespinner had not parted on the best of terms, considering she had him as her prisoner and he had managed to escape.
She could not guess how he would respond to her turning up, asking for a favor from his dragon—but she knew she was going to quickly find out. Her boot heel caught in one of the loose boards of the rickety walkway and she slipped up to her knee. Being so engrossed in worry cost her the usual gracefulness of the Vaerli. As she was swearing and trying to untangle herself, she heard him speak words she could easily make out—mainly because he was standing only feet from her.
“I trust you haven’t hurt yourself?”
Talyn jerked her head away from her predicament and toward the man standing in the doorway to the plaited room. His golden blond hair was scruffy as ever, but his eyes had changed. The hardness she saw in them was not the only change in the talespinner; there was a pride in his eyes now.
He stood braced in the doorway, legs slightly parted, hands above his head, holding onto the ropes. She should have expected he would be so nimble in this place. After all, this was where he had trained in his craft. For all intents and purposes this was his home.
She dropped her eyes away, and struggled and jerked her leg free of ropes. “I am all right, though I think there should be some more attention paid to the repairs in this place. It’s practically a death trap.”
“And you would know all about those,” he replied, not moving from his place. At his back she caught a glimpse of more figures, the ones he had been conversing with.
Talyn might have hoped for a private audience with Finn, but she was obviously not going to get one. For a moment she felt suspended over more than the ocean. Should she go forward and embrace him, or would he take that as an insult? She had never much cared for others’ impressions of her—at least, not for decades—so she was at a total loss how to proceed.
The boy who wriggled his way under Finn’s arm to stand on the rope bridge between them at least broke the awkwardness of the moment a little. He had the same light hair as Finn, and with a sharp indrawn breath, Talyn’s first thought escaped her. “Finn, you have a son?”
He had never said anything to her about such a thing before. The wriggling, burning sensation in her stomach . . . could it be jealousy?
The talespinner’s eyebrows drew together, and he shot a look over his shoulder. It was indeed a woman behind him, but Talyn could not make out her features. The urge to turn about and stride away was almost overwhelming, but the Vaerli held her place.
“Ysel is not my son,” Finn finally replied, but his tone said he would offer no more on the matter. Instead he asked her bluntly, “Why are you here, Talyn?”
She had not considered how to answer that question. The Phage had told her to manipulate the talespinner, but she did not have much experience with such things. Though she knew she should not launch into asking him to burn the damn scroll, she had not considered what she would say was her reason for tracking him down.
A lie would be easiest, but if she were found out, it would destroy any hope she had of his help. So a half-truth then, something that would
not show on her face. “I heard you were here, and I didn’t like how it ended.”
“You tried to take him to the Caisah,” said the boy who looked about twelve mortal years old. His green eyes were far too knowing for her liking—much like the Phage child’s.
If Talyn had little experience with lying, then she had even less with children. The only ones she had contact with were the spoiled brats of the Caisah’s court, or the weeping ones she tore off their parents’ bodies. She licked her lips. “Yes, I admit I did that, but I am no longer in thrall to the Caisah. I broke with him when I discovered that the puzzle—which he said held the answer on how to set my people free—was a lie. The only image it showed was Putorae’s, she who was the last seer of the Vaerli.”
“And how do you think that was a lie?” The woman who had until this moment lurked in the background stepped around Finn. Talyn took a step back, nearly falling into the gap she had only just extracted herself from.
“You are Vaerli!” She thought it ironic that she was about to die right in front of Finn. Maybe that would calm his rage.
Yet there was no flare of heat in her muscles, no dire ache in her bones, and she knew immediately what this woman had done. “You went to the mountain . . . like my father?” Talyn could still not quite believe that anyone would do such a thing.
The Vaerli, who had the faintest streaks of silver in her long dark hair, nodded. Her eyes were an eerie brown. “Some must always sacrifice themselves for the future.” She dropped her hand onto the head of the boy beside her. “I am Fida. I was your father’s brother’s wife, but you probably don’t remember me.”
Talyn shook her head slowly. “Many of those memories I chose to abandon.”
“No doubt,” Fida said, but her voice showed no real hatred, which was a definite surprise.
Talyn did not like the silence that followed, all four of them swinging slightly on the rope bridge, trapped in the uncomfortable moment. “So why did you go?” Talyn asked, merely because it was the first thing that came into her head, and not because she was wondering. Indeed, she could feel Finn’s eyes on her like burning marks.
Kindred and Wings Page 20
