Lokant

by Charlotte E. English

  Eva stiffened. ‘To where?’

  ‘You’ll find out. It would be useless trying to explain.’

  Eva surveyed Andraly warily. ‘I suppose I’m to have a choice in the matter?’

  ‘You want to see Tren, you’re coming along. I can promise to leave limbs, organs and ocular devices intact.’

  Eva felt a headache coming on. Too many questions, too many mysteries. What did she even know about Andraly Winnier? Precious little, save that the woman knew far more about the realm of Ayrien than seemed possible. And if her memoirs were to be believed, she was unnaturally long-lived. What in the world did she mean by “Lokant” anyway?

  None of that mattered, however. If Andraly knew Tren’s whereabouts then Eva would make no objection to being taken to him. Which was lucky, because without waiting for an answer Andraly grabbed Eva’s wrist again and pulled. With a brief rush of dizziness, Eva found herself elsewhere.

  ‘Wait here,’ Andraly said, and vanished. Dizzy and numb, Eva could only obey.

  She stood alone in the centre of a bare, empty room. The chamber was truly gigantic. The ceiling was so far above her, Eva could only barely discern that it was domed. The round walls stretched and stretched, probably covering a distance of a mile all the way around. The decoration was curious: the plain, pale walls were covered in lines, vertical and horizontal, marked starkly in black. Clearing her disorientation with a shake of her head, Eva began to cross the room for a closer look. It took her some time to reach the wall.

  On doing so, she realised that the horizontal lines were in fact letters. Words, written so small that it was difficult to read them. And the wall was not covered in plaster or paper as she might have expected. The material resembled the interactive bulletin boards back in Glour, if anything: smooth and flat and pale, with a faint shimmer of possibility. As Eva stared at individual phrases the words enlarged themselves for her benefit until she could read them.

  They were names. She stepped back, startled. There must be hundreds of thousands of them scribed around the walls of this room. And the floor. And probably the ceiling. Spidery ladders crawled up the walls, set on rails and wheels to allow access even to the data scribed near the top. A cursory survey revealed that the arrangement was a family tree of some kind, vast and impossibly exhaustive. She moved slowly around the room, scanning the names that appeared on this mesmerisingly complex tree.

  Then she heard a door swing open behind her - though she hadn’t seen any exits set into the walls - and she spun around.

  ***

  Tren felt apprehensive as he stepped into the chart room. Eva was indeed there, as Andraly had said. She turned, stared at him in shock. She looked tired and unusually dishevelled; her hair was coming loose from its elegant braids and her clothes were disordered. Her face registered such infinite relief on seeing him that his heart sank under the weight of sudden guilt.

  But in an instant she metamorphosed into a vision of pure anger.

  ‘Tren! You foolish, ignorant, impossible, utterly absurd and unbearable piece of stupidity ! What could possibly possess you to go jaunting off to the Lowers without me?’ She advanced on him as she spoke, her hands spread as though she would like to fasten them around his throat. He backed off, clearing his throat nervously.

  ‘It’s so good to see a friendly face.’

  ‘Tell me you took somebody with you. Someone. If it couldn’t have been me, tell me you at least took another summoner with you. Or a guard. Something.’

  There wasn’t a favourable answer to give to that, so he didn’t attempt one.

  ‘Idiot,’ she spat. ‘Of course you didn’t. Arrogant, stupid bloody youth. You think you’re immortal! You think it couldn’t possibly happen to you!’

  ‘Hey,’ he said, getting rattled now. ‘You did exactly the same thing when you were younger.’

  ‘Yes! I was a raging idiot too, just like you. You know why I stopped wandering merrily through the Lowers by myself? Because I almost died.’

  ‘Ah...’ He swallowed, stuffing his hands into his pockets in a defensive gesture he’d had since childhood. He couldn’t understand why she was so toweringly angry. Maybe it was time to change the subject. ‘How... why are you here?’

  She raked him with a withering look. ‘I came looking for you, of course.’

  ‘Um...’ That silenced him for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might come after him. ‘Ah... I hope you brought someone with you.’

  It was a feeble attempt at a joke, and it didn’t go down well. She looked ready to strike him.

  ‘You could have died!’

  ‘But I didn’t.’

  ‘That’s just luck. Promise you don’t do it again, Tren.’

  ‘I can’t promise that!’

  ‘Why not?’ She stood right in front of him now. She had to look up into his face, but not by very much. She was a tall woman. The expression of fury in her eyes hadn’t diminished.

  ‘Because - because I can’t know that I won’t ever need to do it again.’

  She regarded him silently for a few moments. He steeled himself for a renewed barrage of anger from her, but it didn’t come. Instead she spoke softly.

  ‘Why did you go without me, Tren?’

  ‘You were busy with... with weddings, and suchlike...’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘So it appeared.’

  ‘You couldn’t have waited until I was finished?’

  ‘It was important!’

  Her eyes narrowed. Then she gave a deep, exasperated sigh. To his complete surprise, she put her arms around him and pulled him close.

  ‘You’re a fool,’ she said.

  ‘Probably,’ he agreed. He hesitantly hugged her back, feeling awkward. She’d never shown him any real sign of affection before.

  Dishevelled she may be, but she still smelt delicious.

  ‘So,’ she said at last, releasing him. ‘Are you going to tell me what in the world is going on here?’

  ‘Oh... yes. I’m to take you to the others. Um, I was probably supposed to fill you in a bit first.’ He grinned sheepishly.

  She arched a brow. ‘You are disgracefully behindhand.’

  ‘Hey. I was distracted. Somebody was busy lambasting me.’

  ‘Well, get on with it now.’

  ‘No time now. They’ll be wondering where we are.’ He offered her his arm with exquisite courtesy. ‘If you’ll attend me, Lady Vale.’ It felt strange and unpleasant, calling her that, but he got the word out creditably.

  She took his arm. ‘I’m not Lady Vale, Tren.’

  He frowned. Keeping her own name was an unusual decision, but this was Eva. She frequently rewrote the rules. ‘Pardon my error, Lady Glostrum.’

  She looked at him for a moment, but said nothing. With an uncertain smile, he led her out of the chart room.

  A group was awaiting them in Limbane’s reading room. Llandry and Pensould were there along with Limbane and Andraly. Tren felt Eva’s surprise at beholding this curious assembly.

  ‘Llandry? What?’

  For her part, Llandry was obviously delighted and awed in approximately equal measures. If she had been shy with him, it was nothing compared to her manner on addressing Eva. She managed to stammer out a greeting, smiling with obvious pleasure but blushing all the same. The more awkward Llandry was, the more protective her companion became. Tren was amused to see Pensould glare at Eva and bare his teeth slightly as he drew Llandry towards him.

  ‘Pensould, isn’t it? I’m not going to harm her.’

  Llandry’s face betrayed some of the surprise that Tren felt himself. She knew the other draykon already? How Eva managed to keep one step ahead of everyone never ceased to amaze him.

  ‘Your mother has been in touch,’ she said dryly in answer to Llandry’s unspoken query. ‘The two of you caused a stir in the interrealm press.’

  Pensould beamed with pride, but Llandry looked crestfallen.

  ‘I - we - I didn’t mean for that to happ
en,’ she said.

  Eva patted her shoulder. ‘Your mother managed to suppress most of it. She’s a resourceful woman.’ She looked enquiringly at Limbane, who so far hadn’t said a word.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Tren, stepping in. ‘Lady Glostrum, this is Limbane, um, just Limbane. And you’ve met Ms Winnier?’

  Eva made her courtesies with exquisite manners. As she did so, Andraly leaned towards Limbane and spoke one word in an undertone. ‘Unclaimed.’

  Limbane’s eyebrows rose.

  Eva’s eyes flicked from Andraly to Limbane and back again, betraying her uncertainty. Then she smiled, her virtually unshakeable self-possession back in place.

  ‘Would somebody be so kind as to tell me what in the world is going on?’ She looked straight at him. ‘Tren? Who are these people?’

  ‘Librarians,’ he said.

  ‘What.’

  ‘It’s what the word “Lokant” means. Please, sit down,’ he begged as she continued to hover in the centre of the room. ‘Limbane will explain.’

  ‘Again,’ muttered Limbane under his breath.

  Tren watched Eva closely as she took a seat. Her eyes were thoughtful, her mind obviously busy putting the pieces of this mystery together. He knew it wouldn’t take her long.

  She looked at Andraly. ‘Ms Winnier. Is that your natural hair colour?’

  Limbane laughed. ‘Oh, Krays made a mistake in letting you alone.’

  Andraly was grinning too. With a few quick, deft movements she loosened the wig she wore and pulled it off. Underneath that her hair was pure white.

  ‘I’d have dyed it, but the colour just won’t take.’

  Eva was silent for a moment. ‘Then - that means -’

  Limbane smiled briefly. ‘Why don’t I start at the beginning?’

  ‘All right,’ said Eva faintly. Tren wished she’d placed herself a little closer to him; somehow she had ended up on the opposite side of Limbane’s comfortable room. He sighed inwardly and resigned himself to watching her reaction from a distance.

  ‘Lokant. As Mr Warvel has already informed you, it does indeed mean “librarian”, in our tongue - a language that has never been spoken in your world. And before you ask, this is the Library. You are sitting in it.

  ‘I’m afraid our race predates the human one by a long way. I won’t say how long; the human mind isn’t equipped to comprehend the full stretch of time. Usually we keep to ourselves. We study the different worlds, document their workings and contents and add those records to the Library. There is more knowledge here than any of you could possibly imagine. Andraly, for example, is based long-term in Ayrien, supplementing our thin records there.

  ‘But others of our race are more meddlesome. We have learned - far too late, I fear - that the Sulayn Phay organisation returned to this world some time ago. They have been creating considerable mischief and all of you are bound up in it.’

  Limbane’s gaze settled on Pensould. ‘Some of you have been creating additional complications all by yourselves.’ Llandry looked dejected, but Pensould was completely unruffled by Limbane’s disapproval.

  Eva spoke up. ‘So the other organisation - Sulayn Phay? - are you saying they are responsible for the draykon crisis?’

  ‘No,’ Limbane replied after a moment. ‘Indirectly perhaps, but I doubt that they intended to return the draykon race to this cluster of worlds.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Limbane smiled thinly. ‘That is a story for another time.’

  ‘There’s a great deal you aren’t telling us,’ Eva said.

  ‘Of course,’ Limbane admitted comfortably. ‘All in good time, my dear.’

  Eva made a small sound of annoyance. ‘Ana and Griel. Are they part of this organisation?’

  ‘Something like that,’ replied Limbane. ‘If we wander back in time a number of generations - we won’t say how many - we come to a time when some of us entertained ourselves by mixing with the human societies. We called it “study”, and it was, but it went much further than that for some. I don’t think any of us expected that the two races would be able to successfully breed, not until it happened. The likes of Ana and Griel are the descendants of those kinds of unions. Not Lokants, but retaining some of our traits. The hair colour always breeds true, for some reason, along with a few of our abilities.’

  ‘The vanishing,’ Eva said, nodding. Her face, always pale, was very white now. ‘That means that I -’

  ‘You are part Lokant, yes. In fact, you are descended from one of my very favourite colleagues. She’ll love to meet you. Perhaps later.’

  Eva was silenced. She stared at Limbane with her dark eyes very wide.

  ‘But I... I cannot...’

  ‘That’s just because you haven’t been trained,’ Limbane said, guessing her query. ‘Ana and Griel were adopted by Krays, it appears, and put to work at some nefarious project or other. Why he didn’t tap you as a recruit is something of a mystery.’

  ‘Krays?’

  Tren felt obscurely relieved to find that Eva didn’t know everything after all.

  ‘Krays. Formerly a Librarian, now part of the Sulayn Phay group. He seems to be heading up whatever project is going on here. Making use of the partials was inspired, it has to be said.’

  ‘Partials?’

  ‘Part-blood Lokants.’

  ‘So you don’t know what they’re up to?’

  Limbane shook his head. ‘I tried asking him, but he didn’t want to talk to me for some reason. That is why we require assistance.’

  Eva sat back, her drawn face speaking of the headache she was probably suffering. ‘Oh?’

  Limbane steepled his fingers and looked at the ceiling. ‘We know that Krays is after Miss Sanfaer, for some reason unknown to her. We know that he has put Ana to work collecting draykon bone from the realm of Iskyr, possibly from Ayrien also. We know that Sulayn Phay had something to do with the re-emergence of the draykon race, though it may not be the outcome they had intended. What does all of this add up to?’

  Tren had a question. ‘Limbane. How could such a thing happen by accident?’

  Limbane cast him an amused glance. ‘Oh, it was no accident I’m sure. Not exactly. I suspect that Krays has encountered some insubordination among his recruits. If Ana is collecting draykon bone now, we may tentatively assume that she was doing so before, on Krays’s orders. But she and her husband diverted the bones to their own purpose. What I am more interested in is what Krays wants them for.’

  To his surprise, Llandry spoke up. ‘So - so we are... a mistake?’

  ‘I’ll get to that, Miss Sanfaer,’ Limbane said in a gentler voice. ‘But no. You yourself are no mistake; the timing is merely not as we had intended.’

  Eva blinked at that. ‘We? What did you have to do with the draykon affair?’

  ‘A lot, in fact. But I believe we have had revelations enough for the present. I encourage you all to partake of the Library’s facilities; take as long as you need, time is currently ignoring us. Lady Glostrum, Ms Winnier took you to the chart room for a reason. I believe you may find it interesting to peruse more closely.’ He looked at Llandry again. ‘You too, Miss Sanfaer.’

  ‘What about me?’ Tren asked.

  Limbane grinned. ‘I imagine that you, Mr Warvel, will be happy enough to place yourself at her ladyship’s disposal.’

  With that, the old gentleman stood up, smiling. ‘All right, off you go. I have some other matters to attend to. We will reconvene at some point fairly soon, and before you ask, yes, I will answer more questions at that time. Now, go.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ynara knew the Vanse family a little. Sayfer Vanse was a strong summoner, his wife only a little less so. Orillin, as expected, followed in his parents’ footsteps and had been enrolled in Summoner School at a young age. He was already shaping up to be one of his generation’s stars.

  But that didn’t explain why he was attracting the attention of an obscure university faculty as far away as the realm of Nimdre.
Dev’s brief missive wasn’t exactly clear. Being Dev, it hadn’t occurred to him to explain how or why he’d left her house, where he’d gone to, or what he was doing now. His scrawled mess of a note merely babbled about some connection between Orillin and Llandry, saying that they shared a great many ancestors. Something to do with Llan’s draykon shift? he had written. Ynara sighed a little. “Something”? Dev ought to be better at conveying information; he’d certainly had enough practice at it.

  She could make some inferences herself. If Llandry’s metamorphosis was a product of her ancestry in some way, then Orillin himself may have similar potential. She couldn’t guess why Dev’s university was especially interested in the possibility, but she could guess that it probably did not mean good news for Orillin.

  There was a final note of warning in Dev’s missive that unsettled her.

  Get him out of Glinnery.

  When she showed the note to Aysun, he looked grim.

  ‘If this boy is anything like our Llan, he has a world of trouble on the way.’

  Ynara couldn’t disagree with that. ‘Dev meant for us to do something about it,’ she replied. ‘I wish he’d been more explicit; it’s hard to protect someone from a virtually undefined threat.’

  Aysun shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. We know what Llan went through - what she’s still going through.’

  ‘We couldn’t protect her.’

  Aysun smiled grimly. ‘Because she’s a headstrong girl, like her mother. What we can do for this boy is get him out of here before somebody comes looking for him.’

  ‘And take him where exactly? Hiding didn’t work too well for Llan, as I recall.’

  ‘I have an idea.’

  Aysun’s workshop was a cluttered mess. This was unusual, but Ynara didn’t say anything. She watched as her husband searched frantically through the piles of objects, picking up and discarding sundry bits and pieces. At length he found what he was looking for. He attached a small piece of metal to a box that he held in his hands, tinkering with the mechanics for some minutes. Then he placed it down on the high surface of his workbench. The box emitted a crackling sound for several seconds, then the noise cleared.