So it was, down through the sixth level. Lerran paused, considering. She moved sideways, a strange sensation and a manoeuvre she’d only done a very few times before. Somehow she understood when to stop her sideways momentum and began to sink down again. The seventh level felt disturbed, restless, resistant to her intrusion. There was no way of measuring time in the Dark, and Lerran gave it no thought. Her concentration was focused absolutely on what lay beneath her.
The eighth level was eager, tugging her, trying to draw her in too fast. She resisted, keeping her descent steady. Lerran paused at the ninth level: it felt as innocuous as the first level, but she could sense immense powers lurking, waiting for a single slip in her concentration. The final level lay below her now, and again she paused to rest and gather every thread of power within her.
It felt like some enormous fist, crashing into her back, propelling her much too fast to the edge of the tenth level. She tried to twist away but another thunderous blow hit her, forcing her down. She felt her heart, at a great distance, pounding in unaccustomed terror as she hurtled through the tenth barrier. In the blackness, her hands blazed. All ten rings shot forth their separate radiances, a blinding brilliance in the inky Dark. Then it was gone. She realised she was still descending and was aware of something like a cloud of power surrounding her, at a distance, but closing fast. Mother have mercy! Lerran let her mind open into the darkness. And the cloud swept in.
Lerran knew a period of time had elapsed but she knew much more besides. She’d learnt that she would have to go deeper, just a little, and she would find the young Dragon. If, and only if, she could reach his mind, she must then draw him up again, through level after level. Slowly, she groped lower. There was a burst of pain to her left and she orientated herself towards it. The torment poured into her and she fought to withstand it.
Lerran crept closer and finally touched the mind, and soul, she realised, of the Dragon Farn. No wonder his anguish had echoed throughout the world. His name whispered between them. He’d had no idea someone was so near him and a vestigial trace of curiosity threaded from him. Lerran caught it and spoke a second name: Tika.
In the Karmazen Palace the day was ending for the second time since the First Daughter began her descent. Already the weight was melting from her body, most noticeably from her face. Corman and Harith had sat patiently throughout and Coby too, sat keeping vigil. At regular intervals she poured blood drink into goblets, forcing the two men beside the bed to take the small strength the drink offered.
A gateway had opened earlier this day, on the broad, high terrace which stretched its black stone from Lerran’s chambers across the width of the Palace roof. Alloc hastened out into the teeming rain which swept in from the sea. He saw Peshan first, carrying a man slung over his shoulder. Gossamer Tewk was behind him, clutching a child in her arms and Shea held a bundle close to her chest. Favrian stared wildly at Alloc then an expression of utter relief spread over his face.
Alloc beckoned at the same time as he hurried towards them. He saw their clothes were in shreds, were hissing when the rain landed on them. He mentally called for the healers who had been waiting for just such a moment. Alloc reached for Shea, catching her shoulder, but she yelped with pain and he released her. He saw with horror that her pack was gone and so was most of her shirt. Her exposed left shoulder was a mass of huge blisters.
Alloc herded them all inside as quickly as he could and was relieved to see healers and nurses arriving through the inner door. Favrian touched the tip of his sword to his thumb, smoothing the resulting blood down the flat of the blade before sheathing the weapon with a sigh of relief. Chindar and Shield Master Garrol arrived together but kept out of the way of the healers. Peshan lowered the man he carried into the arms of nurses who laid the unconscious body onto an emergency cot.
Shea sat on another cot, her arms still tight around the bundle at her chest. Alloc saw she was shivering uncontrollably but dared not wrap a blanket around her for fear of aggravating the terrible burns. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock. Alloc beckoned one of the healers to come and sit beside Shea. He talked gently to the child and began the task of unclenching her locked fingers to release her bundle. Alloc turned his attention to Gossamer Tewk.
She had released the body she carried to the care of a healer. A glance showed Alloc it was a young woman rather than the child he’d first assumed. And yes, it was the woman they’d all seen in the dreams and sendings. Alloc turned back to Gossamer Tewk, urging her to sit on a cot. Her shirt was charred but the skin beneath was only reddened rather than blistered. Her face, the backs of her hands and forearms had taken the worst of whatever fire they’d experienced. The skin there was tight and shiny but again, not blistered or broken. Alloc crouched in front of Gossamer and slid a hand beneath hers, rather than touch the tender knuckles.
‘You are safe now,’ he murmured.
Slowly Gossamer raised her head. He saw her hair was singed quite badly. Her dark eyes studied him calmly and then she gave a low derisive laugh.
‘Safe? Safe? That – thing – in its Splintered Kingdom means that no one is safe. No one anywhere in this world.’
Alloc was taken aback by the vehemence with which Gossamer spoke. She dropped her gaze back to her hands, clearly withdrawn from further conversation. The Palace-Keeper bustled in, a bevy of maids at her heels. Part of Alloc’s mind noted, and took pride in, the quiet orderliness with which healers, nurses and maids went about their work. He returned to Shea.
He found the healer Tevros had freed the bundle Shea had clutched so desperately. A senior nurse was carefully unwrapping the charred remnants of what looked like someone’s spare shirt. She paused, glancing up at Alloc.
‘It’s a cat,’ she said in surprise.
Shea twisted round to look at the unconscious animal and winced in pain. ‘Leave him here,’ she commanded. ‘He’s to stay with me.’
The nurse nodded. ‘Of course child. He doesn’t seem to have any injuries.’
Tevros reached to touch the tattered fur between the cat’s ears and frowned. ‘He appears to be asleep, like the two people.’ He shrugged. ‘Leave them all for the moment but you child,’ he turned back to Shea. ‘We must get these clothes off – what’s left of them. Will you let us take you to the bathing chamber – it’s only across the hall there. I can send you to sleep while we do it if you’d prefer?’
Shea shook her head. ‘Can you just make it not hurt quite so much?’
‘I can.’
Shea stood, rather shakily. ‘Gossamer, will you watch my cat?’
Gossamer’s eyes lost some of their blankness. She nodded in silence and watched Tevros and the nurse help Shea totter to a side door. Alloc didn’t need to check Peshan or Favrian. Tired and shocked though they might be now, they could protect themselves against many adversities, even fire, for a time at least.
Shield Master Garrol passed the end of Gossamer’s cot with Sword Master Favrian but stopped and looked back. Favrian kept walking as his son, acting Sword Master Malkos appeared at the door. Garrol moved closer to Gossamer and waited, but when it became apparent she had nothing to say, he pursed his lips and followed Favrian and Malkos from the chamber. But Garrol was not gone long. He stood by the arched doors and waved his companion forward.
Sergeant Essa’s hulking form moved astonishingly quietly around the healers to reach the cot on which Gossamer Tewk sat. The Sergeant lowered herself to Shea’s cot which gave one protesting groan. She looked at the tatty old cat half curled beside her and ran a finger round his spine. She looked at Gossamer and then just waited. Time passed while Sergeant Essa sat patiently regarding Gossamer’s bowed head. Finally, Gossamer lifted her gaze to stare into the Sergeant’s surprisingly light blue eyes.
‘Glad to see you back in one piece even though I can’t say the same about your clothes.’ Essa grinned, exposing those teeth. She wasn’t sure Gossamer would answer: she seemed to have got lost inside her own head. But she did.
&
nbsp; ‘Why do you file your teeth? You can’t really believe it makes you look scarier – it just makes me laugh. I have a friend.’ Gossamer considered what she’d said and chose to amend her words. ‘I have a lodger who files his teeth. His are blue.’
Sergeant Essa grinned again. ‘Warriors in many mountain tribes always do it. It’s quite painful so I suppose it’s a proof of bravery thing – a statement that now nothing else can hurt us.’
Gossamer nodded. ‘Drengle List came from a mountain area, towards the wild clan lands I think. Does it really hurt, having them filed? I’ve never met a greater coward than poor old Drengle. I can’t imagine he’d sit through it.’
‘Of course it hurts, like tattoos and such. That’s the point. Some people cheat and get a healer to take the pain while they’re having it done.’
Gossamer snorted. ‘That’s what Drengle must have done for sure.’
Essa stroked the cat. ‘Would you mind if I got some ointment for your hands and face?’ she asked casually.
Gossamer looked at the backs of her hands, at the tattered strips of shirt hanging from her elbows, almost with surprise. ‘Maybe I should wash and change first? But I promised Shea I’d watch the cat.’
Sergeant Essa caught the eye of a passing nurse who came hurrying over.
‘Gossamer needs cleaning up,’ she told the nurse. ‘Can you show her where to go. I’m minding the cat.’
The nurse smiled. ‘This way. There are several bathing rooms close by.’
Gossamer followed the nurse obediently leaving Essa deep in thought.
The Sergeant was still stroking the unmoving cat when Gossamer came back. She wore a pale blue nightgown, its wide sleeves rolled up clear of her forearms. She handed a piece of fine cloth and a large pot to Essa who unstoppered the pot and sniffed. Essa began to apply the ointment as gently as she could to Gossamer’s cheeks.
‘She reminded me of Snail,’ Gossamer remarked.
‘Snail?’
‘The embalmer.’
‘Oh. Right.’
Gossamer met Essa’s eyes. ‘Didn’t you know I’m dead?’
‘You were,’ Essa retorted. She began smearing ointment along Gossamer’s arms and hands. ‘Bad was it? Your little trip?’
Gossamer was saved from having to answer either of Essa’s comments by Tevros. The healer carried Shea to her cot and laid her carefully upon it.
‘The pain was more than she could bear so we caused her to sleep. Now it is a natural sleep but she will be in pain when she wakes. Then she’ll be given herbs which will quell the worst pain but they won’t make her sleepy. A nurse will stay.’
The nurse with him fetched a stool and sat beside Shea who’d been put into a much lighter weight nightgown than Gossamer’s. She and Essa could see dressings beneath it and Shea’s hands were also bandaged. Essa started to rise from the side of Shea’s cot but Tevros waved her back.
‘Don’t worry. She’ll probably prefer people close by when she wakes. Now for the strangers.’ Tevros moved on to the cot where the woman Tika lay, still and silent.
Essa glanced at the nurse across the cot. ‘Pretty bad eh?’
The nurse nodded. ‘The top of her left arm and shoulder particularly. It was very difficult getting the pieces of burnt cloth out of the deeper burns. Her mind is surprisingly strong for one so young, but her body is gravely shocked by what has happened to it.’
Sergeant Essa understood. She’d seen guards injured in the occasional skirmishes with recalcitrant mountain tribes. Their wounds didn’t seem severe and yet they’d died and the healers put it down to shock. She’d thought of Gossamer’s words, about how the Dark Realm’s guards would cope with large scale battles rather than the minor disputes which were all they’d experienced. The nurse broke into Essa’s thought.
‘Your friend is also asleep,’ she said softly. ‘Why don’t you take the chance to get some food? I’ll be here.’
The Sergeant eased off the side of Shea’s cot. Gossamer had slumped sideways onto the pillow. Essa carefully lifted Gossamer’s bare feet onto the cot and placed a blanket over the lower half of her body. Essa stretched her huge frame, grinned at the nurse and strode off to find a meal.
Sergeant Essa wasn’t gone for long. She glanced around the chamber when she returned, seeing at once that Shea, Gossamer nor the cat seemed to have stirred at all. She crossed to the other side of the chamber where both healers and nurses sat watching the two strangers. Tevros joined her, arching his back to ease muscles which ached from stooping over the low cots. Essa looked down at him.
‘Why aren’t they in the infirmary Lord Tevros – it would be easier for you to care for them there wouldn’t it?’
Tevros nodded. ‘Alloc said they were to stay here, close to the First Daughter. I do not know the reason.’ He glanced at the smaller archway which led to Lerran’s most private rooms, and shivered.
Essa frowned, giving her the unfortunate appearance of having but one, long eyebrow. ‘The First Daughter is still descending?’ she asked. ‘It’s nine days since Gossamer went off on that – trip. I didn’t know any of you, even First Daughter, could descend for so long.’
‘She is rising, so Alloc says. But you are correct. It is a very long time and First Daughter’s body will pay a heavy price.’
Essa was shocked. She had seen Sword Master Favrian make a descent when he invested new weapons forged by Garrol. Favrian took perhaps half a morning to gather the power he needed, yet he had looked drawn and exhausted for the rest of the day. Essa touched the hilt of her long knife. It was her most precious possession, a gift from Shield Master Garrol when she achieved the rank of sergeant. Very, very few received a blood metal weapon and Essa understood the honour Garrol had offered her.
‘They had weapons?’ She’d seen two swords laid on a table beyond the cots.
She went to look at them more closely and saw that two daggers and two eating knives lay behind the swords. Both swords were in plain serviceable scabbards but the hilt of one was worn, indicating long use. Essa bent closer to the other, smaller sword. Tevros was beside her and she glanced at him, asking his permission to examine the sword. He nodded. Sergeant Essa lifted the smaller sword carefully and loosened the blade in its scabbard, exposing a hand width of blade. She drew a breath when she saw the dull black metal. A blood metal sword. She slid the blade back securely into the scabbard and replaced it on the table.
‘That was. .’ Tevros whispered.
‘Yes, it was.’
They turned to study the two figures lying unmoving on their cots.
‘We took that one from the woman,’ Tevros murmured. ‘But I have been told these two come from lands far across the world. I have always understood we of the Dark are the only ones who know of blood metal forging.’
‘Perhaps the Shield Master should be informed Lord Tevros?’
The healer nodded. ‘The woman wore a golden chain bearing a strange pendant. She has scarring between her breasts, exactly where the pendant would normally hang. We think it is a burn scar. The pendant is still on her, although we removed their weapons of course and their clothes.’
Tevros clasped his hands behind his back and rocked onto his toes then dropped back on his heels. Sergeant Essa recognised the signs – every lecturer she’d ever heard had these strange little quirks. But she was definitely interested in anything Tevros could tell her about these people whose rescue had disturbed Gossamer Tewk to such an extent.
‘The man has recently lost the last two fingers on his left hand. Surgery was performed and it is almost fully healed. He also suffered a serious head injury – I would guess it happened at the same time as his hand was damaged. He could still well be suffering from some headaches, eye problems and so forth, when he wakes.’
‘When he wakes,’ Essa interposed, having decided she’d heard enough.
‘Oh they’ll wake. Within the next day I’d say. They were deeply asleep – and it was sleep rather than an induced unconsciousness – b
ut their sleep is now much lighter. Oh yes. Within a day I’m sure.’
Tevros wandered off to look at Shea. Sergeant Essa stayed where she was, studying the small woman, sleeping, if Tevros was correct, on the cot in front of her. The woman had dark curly hair, not short but not long either. Her face was delicate with fine cheekbones and a determined chin. Her hands lay slack above the covers and Essa noted that they were small hands but also long fingered and bare of rings. The nurses had put the woman into a thin nightgown and left the top laces untied.
Sergeant Essa stepped closer, looking to the watching healers for any sign of disapproval of her presence. When none came, she squatted by the cot, staring at the pale face, the closed eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Essa reached a hand to the opening of the nightgown where a gold chain glinted. She moved the material aside cautiously and saw an egg shaped object. The back of it was a rich reddish gold, the front filled with a strange amber substance. Sergeant Essa’s forefinger touched the pendant. She froze. She found herself staring into a pair of brilliant green eyes, the pupils dilated and, where there should be whiteness, gleaming silver scaling.
‘Who are you?’ Tika croaked.
Chapter Eleven
Lerran had risen to the sixth level, Farn’s mind clinging to hers. Something, some tiny crumb of sanity, told him this person was not lying to him, would do their best to find Tika. For the first time for many days, Farn truly rested, a trickle of hope creeping into him. He rested, quite unaware of Lerran’s growing struggle. Farn’s damaged mind was an increasing burden and the levels through which she’d descended with relative ease were reluctant to let her leave. The First Daughter was aware that her body was greatly weakened, that already Harith was on the point of collapse.
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 13
