Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series

by E. M. Sinclair

  ‘Thryssa, this one is alone. There is no teacher to apply any restraints.’

  Thryssa frowned, beginning to see Jilla’s cause for concern. ‘How long has this been happening?’

  ‘Not long. We noticed only a few days ago, but then there was a sustained period of air manipulation over four days. We felt a great tiredness but also relief, as though this one had a definite reason to control the air for that time. I was instructed to bring this information to you just as your messenger arrived to ask for my presence here.’ Jilla sat down again. ‘We also know that the Chimes of Harmony rang in discord some time ago. We tried to find the cause. Everything points to the circles which we abandoned in the west being in use again.’

  Thryssa sighed. ‘That was my first thought, and so it seems to be. Why any were left intact, I cannot understand. But even more unbelievable is how any of the races out in the world now, learnt how to use them. And having learnt, dared to use them.’

  ‘We detect a considerable difference in the minds working the air. The first mind, who used weather for warding, was strange, alien, unsympathetic. This new one is nearly the same as us. Whoever it is, uses power in a distinctively different way, but a way we can recognise.’

  The two women sat in silence as they considered the enormity of the problem facing them. In two thousand cycles or more they had believed their isolation was total. The rest of the world had cast them out of villages, towns, cities and realms. Until they reached the five craters forming Vagrantia, they had wandered the world, unwelcome everywhere. Was that world going to burst in upon them, or would they be the ones who would have to go forth to that world?

  Thryssa said finally: ‘The Speakers are on their way here from Segra, Kedara and Fira. Will this be the time we must approach Talvo as well?’

  In Talvo Circle no humans lived. A few animals roamed wild, which had escaped from herds in other circles and found Talvo pleasant enough. Clear water sprang from rock in several places across the great crater. Boiling waters also leapt high in the air at unpredictable moments. Parts of the crater were barren, other parts lush with flourishing plant life.

  On one of the many high ledges, Gremara lay. Her eyes were closed but she was not asleep. She was listening. Something had disturbed her over the last days, something she needed to remember. But she was tired. Tired and lonely.

  Many times, a Vagrantian had come to her, begging to learn from her. She had been pleased with the company and begun to instruct them. Then she had discovered a flaw inside each of these students. Always. So of course, she destroyed them. They had learnt too much from her to live elsewhere with that knowledge, tainted by the faults within them. Regretfully, she obliterated them and she would rage then at her stupidity, at her misreading of their souls.

  Then she was lonely again. Something had disturbed her though. She knew the air was being altered again, but that was insignificant. She knew the circles of power had been used, and that was more worthy of notice. A voice had called her, called her name, called ‘Gremara’. No one had called her by name since the second Gather after her hatching. Her eyes snapped open, her silver scales incandescent in the afternoon sun.

  She stared around at her home, seeing a few lumen grazing unconcerned, half a league away. She wasn’t hungry. Her tail whipped angrily through the air with a hiss that matched the hiss from her gaping mouth. Prismed eyes flashed like ice crystals and she suddenly roared furiously at the sky. The lumen looked up, then continued to graze. Someone had called her. She searched with a wild surge of power and her whirring eyes stilled.

  He had called her. Now, at last, she must answer and do the bidding of a Dragon Lord. The name of the one who called her was Mimnan.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryla had spent four days talking with Kadi. Emla managed to persuade Ryla to take some rest, properly, in a tiny cupboard of a room leading off from the hall. She also had to make her understand that Kadi needed time to hunt and to spend with her fosterlings. Of the three young Dragons, Emla found Shar the most serious. Watching Ikram and Nya, Emla was saddened. That was how Farn should be – inquisitive, mischievous, carefree. Emla realised just how difficult it had been for Farn to have to grow up so fast, to see such things as he had already seen, and to suffer the hurt he had.

  While Ryla slept one morning, Emla wrapped a cloak over her jacket and went out to watch for Kadi’s return from hunting. The three young ones tumbled from the sky, churning snow. Ikram ‘accidentally’ knocked Nya into a snow covered clump of bushes and she emerged roaring in mock rage, chasing him down the pathways.

  Kadi groaned.

  ‘I do begin to understand your difficulties,’ Emla smiled. ‘I think having charge of one would be hard work enough – but three! You have done well Kadi.’

  Emla stroked Shar’s green blue wing as she spoke. ‘And why are you such a sensible one, compared to those two rascals?’ she asked her.

  Shar glanced at Kadi for her approval, then told Emla of the time at the Gather. ‘I shared some lessons with Tika and Farn. Somehow I knew they were not just fun, like most of our lessons are. And since Mother took Jeela to the north, I am afraid of what may be happening to them all.’ Her eyes whirred, a pale gold, as she added: ‘I try to help Kadi with those two, but whatever Ikram gets up to, Nya follows.’

  Kadi rumbled. ‘If I had only this little Shar to foster, life would indeed be simple!’

  Shan came from the house. ‘Lady Ryla is awake and ready for the day she says.’ Shan grinned as Kadi exchanged a sympathetic look with Emla.

  ‘I think we both have our trials,’ Kadi murmured with a chuckle.

  Mid afternoon of the fifth day since Kadi’s arrival, Kadi was first to hear Brin’s call. She ordered the three young Dragons, in a tone not to be disobeyed, to join her at the foot of the steps leading to the main door of Emla’s House. Emla had the doors flung wide so that Ryla could see outside and then the six shapes in the sky were growing rapidly bigger as Brin led them to the Golden Lady.

  Brin landed first, very carefully. He had an odd bundle tied to his back but his eyes flashed rose red in delight. Three small white Dragons landed together and Kadi stared hard at these fabled Snow Dragons. Farn landed, stumbled, but then stood firm, his eyes whirring sapphires. Kija settled beside him, her gaze sweeping over her other three children briefly.

  Tika slid from Ulla’s back as Gan did from Meppi’s. Sket seemed to be still involved in conversation with Uma as he dismounted more slowly. Gan and Tika hurried to Brin as Emla watched. Unwrapping layers of weatherproof cloaks, then quilts, they revealed a still beaming Nolli and Lanni.

  ‘Oh my stars,’ Shan whispered beside Emla. ‘Two stubborn old ladies now. And if that one hasn’t caught her death of cold, I’ll be most surprised!’ And Shan was off down the steps to join the fuss around Nolli.

  When the Dragons had formally greeted Ryla and Emla, Brin departed to hunt with Meppi and Uma while Kija and Kadi retired to the guest pavilion to discuss just why Kija’s three children were here. The three in question sat, very subdued and well- mannered, outside on the veranda while their behaviour was judged.

  Ulla and Farn entered Emla’s House, Ulla as Nolli’s escort, and Farn because he was exhausted. He reclined near Ryla and to everyone’s surprise and Ryla’s delight, dropped his head on her lap and fell fast asleep.

  When Emla finally staggered to her bed that night she left Bara and Lanni curled on pillows near the two old ones. Shan grumbled as Emla dropped her clothes where she took them off and warned of dark days ahead with two such stubborn old ladies ruling the house. Shan’s prediction proved correct: the Golden Lady’s household revolved around Ryla and Nolli from where they sat, firmly ensconced, in the entrance chamber. Farn became very fond of Ryla in spite of the fact that a son of Khosa’s, distressingly similar to his parent in looks and temperament, occupied Ryla’s lap all too frequently.

  Gan had long meetings with Soran and several Guard Officers. Soran’s scouts, gone over a ten-da
y, had been sending reports back from the Middle Plains. Cansharsi still roamed in small groups and the townspeople and farmers in the area went armed at all times. One item fixed their attention. A peddler told a trader, who told a merchant, that a stranger had arrived in the town of Return. Return was one of the border towns of Sapphrea, in the southern foothills of the Ancient Mountains. No one knew how this stranger travelled there. He’d previously visited the Lord of Return on brief occasions, but now it looked as though he was planning to live there permanently. Eventually, Soran’s scout had tracked the peddler, by name Kasito, who said the stranger in Return was called Rhaki, a Lord of the People.

  The only other piece of information of interest was of a solitary man heading south. This man was of short stature, seemed uncertain in the ways of ordinary life in the towns or farms he stopped at and said his name was Serim. He asked direction for roads to Return and some had shunned him, some gave him rides on their wagons. For the most part, he walked. Looking at maps Gan had made on his sorties against Gangers in that region, Gan estimated that Serim was perhaps a ten-day foot journey from Return. On his own he would be an easy prey for the few Gangers left there.

  Gan spoke quietly with Nolli, as Emla argued with Ryla over yet another obscure comment they’d found in a decaying scroll. Nolli frowned at Gan’s news. She nodded slowly.

  ‘I had thought no danger from him. Perhaps I should have handed over to Berri before my wits softened so much. Should he reach Rhaki he will attempt to convince him of his usefulness and no doubt he would serve him well. He knows what Rhaki is, and yet he has chosen to follow him. A Delver.’

  She stared at her twisted hands, curled around the small brown Kephi on her lap. Green eyes blinked at her and Resh patted the back of her hand gently. The ancient one smiled sadly.

  ‘How many more mistakes have I made? When we first knew Serim was gone, I should have let you go after him and taken him prisoner, should I not?’

  Gan shrugged. ‘Maybe. Perhaps another would have felt as Serim did.’

  Nolli squinted at him. ‘You say you think it was meant – that Serim should abandon us for such a one as Rhaki?’

  Gan shrugged again. ‘I became a Guard because I prefer to deal in reality and practicalities. The power, destiny, fate, whatever you wish to call such things, those I felt uncomfortable with. Now, I admit to you that I feel, despite that opinion, that something is happening that is out of our hands. Whether it is fate – I will not admit that much.’ He smiled.

  Tika was in the weapons court with Sket and Shan. After the way Tika had fought in the tunnels of the north, Sket believed there was nothing to teach her. To his astonishment, when he handed her a wooden practise blade and set her against Shan, they were nearly equally balanced. He watched Shan closely. She was better than most after coming late to such training, but still far from skilled. Shan’s yell as Tika’s blade crashed across her knuckles made Sket halt the practise.

  ‘Lady Tika, would you fetch your blade?’

  ‘Why? We’re only practising Sket.’

  ‘I have a thought Lady.’ Sket sounded faintly alarmed.

  Moments later, Tika was offering him her sword.

  ‘No, you use it.’

  Puzzled, she drew the sword, leaving the worn leather scabbard on a bench. A slim blonde Guardsman came into the court.

  ‘Riff, would you try a short bout with the Lady Tika? I need to watch her with a proper blade.’

  Riff positioned himself and waited. As Tika seemed disinclined to make the first move, Riff moved swiftly to his right, dropping slightly to turn his blade towards her exposed left side.

  Tika’s reaction was so fast that Sket couldn’t follow the moves fully. He was aware though, of her set expression as she attacked Riff, forcing him back step by step.

  ‘Hold!’ Sket ordered.

  A few too many seconds passed before Tika lowered her sword, Riff eyeing her warily the while. Shan’s round blue gaze flicked from Tika to Riff, settling on Sket.

  ‘Stars!’ she breathed.

  ‘Stars indeed!’ Sket muttered back.

  After six days absence from Return, Hargon was taken aback by the change in Rhaki’s appearance. He was gaunt where he had been slender, his steps short and hesitant. The tremor in his hands was incessant but his eyes, sunken as they were, glittered fever-bright.

  ‘Yes,’ Hargon replied to Rhaki’s question as they sat down for the evening meal. ‘It was a pleasant enough trip. Raben is a good host – I believe you may have met him when you were here once before. And your work, Sir Lord?’

  ‘Progressing well.’ Rhaki nodded. ‘I will need masons to complete the upper storeys soon of course. I understand your children are travelling, Hargon. I asked if they might like to visit my tower again and was told they were not in residence.’

  ‘They usually have a small excursion as a treat after a winter cooped up in the city.’ Hargon answered smoothly.

  ‘I thought they would be interested to see the setting of the base stones, but I will be doing that within days, and I do not wait for children.’

  ‘Quite so, Sir Lord. I do not expect them back for several more days. Alas therefore, they will miss such a wonder.’

  Rhaki glanced at Hargon. No, he was incapable of sarcasm.

  ‘Your daughter, Hargon – in my humble view, I would suggest she would be wasted just breeding grandsons for Seboth.’

  Hargon shrugged. ‘Females breed Sir Lord, what else? Return’s links with Far will be strengthened by such an arrangement.’

  ‘Our females are not used only for breeding Hargon. They make docile scribes and record keepers. I have always found them adequate at such work. Can your daughter read and write?’

  Hargon’s face was slowly flushing and his Arms Chief answered before the Lord could say anything unfortunate.

  ‘It has long been the rule here in Sapphrea, that such skills are forbidden to females Sir Lord. Females of great learning were the cause of terrible catastrophes in cycles long past. There is no wish to encourage another disaster among any Sapphreans, Sir Lord.’

  ‘How barbaric!’ Rhaki muttered audibly.

  Hargon had regained his composure but now said through gritted teeth: ‘You said something, Sir Lord?’

  ‘No. Nothing.’ Rhaki twirled his goblet of water. ‘I would like to hear what your females of ancient time could possibly have accomplished to make you fear them now. Perhaps you could enlighten me?’

  Hargon sipped his ale, his mind racing. ‘It is an old tale, Sir Lord, long and complicated. I will order a teller of such histories to attend us if you wish. They travel widely but they are the ones who know the fullest versions of the stories.’

  Rhaki had lost interest. He could only concentrate on his own plans lately he had noticed, everything else was trivial in comparison.

  ‘I doubt there’s much of interest in it for me anyway Hargon. I would hope though, that you keep in mind that I have voiced an interest in your daughter’s ability to be of service to me before dispatching her to the simple Seboth.’

  He swallowed the last of his water and got to his feet. Hargon inclined his head slightly but said only: ‘Sleep well, Sir Lord.’

  Navan opened the door, bowing Rhaki on his way, and rejoined Hargon.

  ‘Poison?’ he asked.

  ‘He drinks only water, it would be instantly noticeable.’ Hargon grunted. ‘I feel the power around him now. Do you Navan?’

  ‘Yes Sir. It seems to cover him more thickly the thinner his body grows.’

  ‘Can he die do you think? Die of using the power? Or would he just become an invisible demon of undiluted powers?’

  ‘What happens when one of the People die Sir? I do not recall hearing of burial customs connected with them.’

  Hargon poured himself more ale. ‘I heard once that it is a great festival of celebration among them. They call it ‘going beyond’. I know no more than that. Why?’

  ‘I wondered if they did actually die. We
know they live longer than we do; I fear perhaps they live forever.’

  Mallit reported, the following day, that Rhaki had dismissed the labourers when the last blocks of stone had been unloaded that afternoon. Rhaki had told Mallit masons would be needed in two days time, and many loads of bricks. Someone had muttered about payment, and Rhaki’s gaze had swept the crowd of workmen. He had not divined the man who had dared such a remark, and he had made no reply.

  Later, over their meal, Rhaki himself raised the subject. ‘Once my tower is built and I move into it, my debts will be paid in full Hargon.’

  ‘I expected nothing less from a Lord of the People,’ smiled Hargon.

  Rhaki rose even earlier than usual in the morning. The sun had still not touched the horizon as he sat with his back to the hill where lay the hidden caves. He surveyed the blocks arranged at his order around the foundations. Then he drew in his breath. By midday, the first storey was in place and the pain in Rhaki’s head deafened and blinded him.

  He did not lose consciousness, but wished he had. Sleep was far more preferable than this agony in his mind. And every time the pain eased, he was aware of the tiny, coiled worm of rage inside him. Except it was no longer tiny. As his power grew, so did the rage-worm. Rhaki’s pain slowly lessened as he forced his usual bread and fruit into his increasingly frail body.

  He had hoped to complete the raising of these base blocks in one attempt but he admitted it would be impossible, if not fatal, to continue now. Eventually, he was able to get to his feet and go closer to inspect his work. Each block, meticulously cut to allow for the wider curve on the outside edge, lined up perfectly. Not a hair could be pressed between two blocks. He paced right round the tower and straightened, smiling.

  The smile vanished. Without moving from his apparent study of the base of the tower, he let his senses expand around him. A faint tickle in his mind had alerted him. There, a hundred paces or less at an angle to the trail. Rhaki’s mind touched another’s, the rage-worm coiled, and smoke drifted lazily along the trail towards the tower. The pain flickered as the rage-worm twisted and writhed inside his head, on top of the first pain. Rhaki gasped, holding himself as still as he could until the world stopped its agonising spin.