Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series

by E. M. Sinclair

  ‘How are you Mim? I know you feel you must carry the burden of the Silver One alone, but I also know that you cannot.’ She stopped. Mim hadn’t moved but although it was difficult to see expressions now on his scaled face, she did see pain, and fear, in his eyes.

  ‘You have set wards around this chamber,’ he said softly. ‘Do you fear me then Lady?’

  ‘The wards are to magnify the shielding against the Silver One. It is her I fear Mim, not you.’

  Long moments passed. Kera saw tiny tremors ripple over Mim’s body.

  ‘I thought I could withstand her,’ he whispered finally. ‘But she slides thoughts into my mind which I long to make reality.’

  ‘Thoughts of revenge Mim? Does she keep reminding you of your parents, your brother, and all your village kin?’

  Tears hung like crystals, reflecting from the firelit scales of his cheeks. His hands clenched on the arms of his chair.

  ‘It would be a simple thing to find those Linvaks, to slay them all, to watch them burn and suffer.’

  Nesh suddenly whispered in Kera’s mind and she gave the tiniest nod. She left her chair to kneel before Mim, her long-fingered hands resting lightly on his.

  ‘Mim, there are sufficient of us here to conceal you, if only for a while. You have been shielding all of us for days, fool that I am not to have realised ere this. Dear one, trust us to shield you for this night at least and sleep, sleep properly, not half-aware as you have been doing. If you let your exhaustion grow, then her madness will overcome you, of that I am sure.

  ‘Trust us now, regain some strength, and then you must talk to us of the Silver One’s aims.’

  Kera was silent, aware of Mim’s craving for rest battling with Gremara’s insidious dreams. Her knees were beginning to ache when she felt Mim’s hands turn palm up beneath hers and cling tightly. His voice was a husky whisper.

  ‘I would sleep now please Kera.’

  As the Great Dragons spiralled lower over Hargon’s hunting lodge, they could see a semicircle of upturned faces watching their approach. Kadi’s midnight blue scales shimmered in the light of the lowering sun as she settled first, with Gan and Riff perched confidently behind her shoulders. She waited as they slid from their places then she paced slowly to one side. Her eyes shone with glee as the armsmen and servants moved several paces back with each of her advancing steps.

  Crimson Brin landed next, his enormous size bringing gasps from his audience. As Sket and Drak dismounted and joined Gan and Riff, Brin stretched his chest and neck even more as he moved to the opposite side from Kadi.

  Kija’s golden scales flashed like mirrors where they caught the sunlight and she settled smoothly beside Brin. Kemti stayed at her side as Nomis joined the other three Guardsmen.

  And finally, the smallest Dragon, all silver blue sparkles, eyes glittering deeper blue and gold lights in excitement, Farn swooped elegantly to land between his mother and Kadi. Tika slipped from Farn’s back, moving quickly to stand close to his chest as Gan moved up beside her. Sket and Nomis stood at attention on one side of her, Riff and Drak on the other, smart in their blue uniforms.

  Before Hargon could think quite what to do on such an occasion, there were more gasps as all four Dragons reared erect, the talons on their spread wings holding them steady. Kadi’s voice rang clear in every human’s head as she declared her name and Treasury. Kija called next, followed by Brin who unexpectedly announced that he was ‘Brin the Traveller’. Kija’s eyes flashed as she gave him a brief glare.

  Then the silver blue Dragon’s young voice announced: ‘I am Farn, firstborn son of Kija of the Broken Mountain Treasury, and this is my soul bond, Tika.’

  The Dragons lowered themselves again and looked towards Hargon.

  He hastily released Mena’s hand and stepped forward, Navan at his shoulder, four armsmen behind.

  ‘I am Hargon, Lord of Return. I bid you. .’ He stopped, staring hard at Tika. ‘You,’ he spluttered. ‘What trickery is this? This is a runaway slave of mine. Take her!’ he ordered furiously.

  Kija groaned as Farn raised himself again, eyes whirring red sparks as he belched.

  Shrieks and curses came from all around as fire whooshed across the ground at Hargon’s feet. The Lord of Return hopped backward with alacrity and stared at Farn in horror.

  Farn’s voice rang in their minds once more, but his eyes were fixed on Hargon. ‘My soul bond Tika is free. You held her once she told me, but never again will another think they own her. You threaten her Lord Hargon, and you threaten me. And I do not like to be threatened.’

  ‘Oh well done hatchling,’ Brin murmured.

  Farn lowered himself again, smoke wisping around his nose. Kija intervened as she saw Tika’s hand move to her sword hilt.

  ‘Lord Hargon, this child is my daughter since she bonded her soul to my son’s as he came from the egg. She is of the Dragon Kin. Perhaps you should try to think of her thus from this time?’

  Hargon stepped carefully over the line of charred grass and inclined his head towards Kija.

  ‘I have been warned that many thing must change – maybe this is but one of those things.’ He shot a quick glance at Tika. ‘I will recognise this girl as Dragon Kin.’

  A faint smile twitched at Tika’s mouth, but it did not reach her eyes. She nodded. ‘I am, by my own free choice, Tika of the Dragon Kin Lord Hargon. They have my first allegiance. This is Gan, Captain of the Golden Lady’s Guards.’

  Gan’s tall figure came forward and he saluted Hargon, hand on Emla’s emblem embroidered on the breast of his cloak.

  ‘Captain of the Golden Lady’s Guards,’ he repeated. ‘Now assigned to serve the Lady Tika.’

  Hargon absorbed the implication. This was one of the People, highest-ranking officer in the Lady Emla’s service, and he was telling Hargon that by his presence here as her escort, Tika was held in great esteem.

  Hargon introduced Navan as his Chief Arms Man, and with a glance at the Dragons, suggested refreshments in the lodge.

  ‘We have eaten,’ Farn said shortly, red lights still flickering in his faceted eyes.

  ‘But we will talk beside your cave,’ Kija interposed smoothly. She paced regally towards the shallow steps leading up to the balcony, armsmen rapidly making way for her. Kadi and Brin moved closer and all three reclined in their elegant fashion before the building.

  Feeling almost a guest at his own lodge, Hargon dismissed most of his armsmen, ordered food and drink to be brought outside and firmly seated himself on the top of the steps. His eye was caught by Mena, still standing by the pillar clutching the Merig, her eyes huge as she gazed at the Dragons. Bannor and Bartos stood to the other side and Hargon nodded to the boys to remain where they were.

  Kemti had moved forward beside Kija and he now bowed formally to Hargon. ‘I am the Senior Kemti, here by command of the Golden Lady, to be of what service I can,’ he said.

  Another one of the People, Hargon thought. Is this one a power user like Rhaki?

  ‘No,’ Tika replied aloud. ‘Not in the way you mean.’

  Hargon relaxed, then jerked his head up as he realised that this SLAVE had answered his thoughts, not any words spoken aloud.

  An orange face, turquoise eyes glinting, appeared over Tika’s shoulder and a small Kephi scrambled down to the ground.

  ‘I was not introduced,’ she announced. ‘I am Khosa, Queen of the Kephi of the Lady’s Estate.’ She stared icily at Hargon then her gaze drifted on to Mena, standing there with a Merig tucked under her arm. Khosa licked her lips daintily and moved purposefully in that direction.

  Servants carried out bread, fruit, pies and jugs of ale and tea, and placed them on a bench hastily brought from within the lodge. Tika and Farn had moved closer now and as he reclined, Tika sat cross-legged on the ground before him, his head resting on hers. Sket poured a bowl of tea and carried it to Tika, winked, and resumed his position at her side.

  ‘We come because of Rhaki,’ Tika said aloud. ‘We failed to destr
oy him in his stronghold in the north and he vanished. It is only lately that we learned he came here.’ She glanced at Kemti. He nodded encouragingly. ‘The Merigs say he has built a tower near your town Lord Hargon. But we need to know how Rhaki arrived here. Did he just ride in with an escort or with a group of traders?’

  Hargon struggled with the idea that a near-worthless slave, and a female at that, seemed to be the spokesperson of this company even over the Senior Kemti, but he eventually managed to reply: ‘We believe he came by some foul use of the power. And he came from the south-eastern side of Return, where he chose to build his tower.’

  ‘You must try to clear your mind of the idea that all and every use of power is a foul thing Lord Hargon,’ Kemti remarked.

  ‘The power brought destruction beyond belief to our lands,’ Hargon said, leaping to his feet. ‘Its use has been forbidden ever since those terrible days.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Brin rumbled. ‘But if not for the power, how could we now be speaking to each other?’

  ‘The Merig told me it was just a different way of communicating.’ Hargon frowned.

  ‘It is,’ Brin agreed reasonably, ‘but it is still accomplished only with small manipulations of the power.’

  At that point, raucous shrieks erupted to Hargon’s left and the Merig flapped up to the edge of the roof, a few black feathers drifting behind him. All eyes turned to Mena. Khosa stared innocently back from her perch on the child’s knee.

  ‘It is not my fault that Merigs have no sense of humour,’ she said coolly.

  Mena bent her head over the Kephi as the Merig grumbled on from the roof.

  Kemti cleared his throat. ‘We believe Rhaki used an ancient circle device to travel the great distance from the northern Ice Realm to Return, Lord Hargon. Do you have any buildings, or mayhap a ruined place beyond your town limits, where such a circle lies? It is a mosaic patterned with crystal and jet, at least so we believe. We know of five other such circles and they are all made so.’

  Hargon shook his head. ‘No such things do we have. All were destroyed. We would not tolerate them to remain – contaminated things of the evil ones.’

  ‘Sir?’ Navan shifted where he sat by Lord Hargon. ‘The caves the men spoke of? Could there be such a circle hidden there?’

  ‘Where are these caves?’ Tika asked.

  ‘Close by Rhaki’s tower,’ Navan answered her at Hargon’s nod. ‘Two armsmen – died – when they approached the place. We know Rhaki killed them, and others set to watch him.’

  ‘How did Rhaki kill them?’ Kemti asked sharply.

  Navan swallowed. ‘We know not. All we found was a heap of ashes. And their belt daggers.’ He drew his own from his waist and held it hilt forward towards Kemti. ‘All our daggers are made the same, and they were all that remained when the men carrying them became but ashes.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rhaki still slept. Serim checked on his master’s condition at regular intervals both day and night and slept on the floor close by him.

  For many days Rhaki had lain like a corpse, his skin ashen, only shallow breaths moving his chest slightly. Each time Serim visited his master, he sponged and oiled his face and tried to drip a little fluid between his cracking lips. Yesterday, he’d found Rhaki half turned on his side. As the Delver tended him, Rhaki muttered unintelligibly and jerked his head from Serim’s hands. Serim sat back on his heels and studied the Grey Guardian’s unconscious face.

  Rhaki lay still again and Serim noted there was no fluttering of the hooded eyelids, which might indicate a return to wakefulness. He gathered up the basin, cloths, and oil jar and went quietly from the room.

  At first Rhaki had lain in the dark, his body and mind exhausted to a nearly fatal level. His body slept, desperate to restore its depleted energies, and his mind floated in empty blackness. A tiny thread held the awareness of who he was, and who he could be, but in those first days, the thread was tenuous indeed. Now it was thickening, solidifying, absorbing new things once more almost with Rhaki’s old craving for information.

  The thoughts that came like pale lightnings in the deep night in which Rhaki drifted, were like songs and dreams. They soothed him somehow although he did not in the least understand any words. As his body rested and healed with the rapidity of his race, Rhaki’s mind began to try and catch at these wisping silvery dreams. To no avail.

  Each time one came within his grasp, it felt as if something else slid between. At last, a red thread, somehow familiar, swam through the darkness and as Rhaki’s dream hands clutched it, pain lanced his temples and light stabbed his eyes. He gasped, screwing his eyes tighter shut and twisting his head away.

  Then he felt coolness laid across his forehead and his eyes. Rhaki’s thoughts thrashed, seeking memory, order, coherence. After what seemed an endless time, he was able to whisper: ‘Serim.’

  ‘Yes Master. Lie still. You have slept many days and are very weak. I will fetch broth for you soon but for now here is water.’

  A hand gently raised Rhaki’s head without disturbing the cloth across his upper face, and the rim of a mug was held to his sore mouth. He sucked greedily at the water but long before he had satisfied his thirst, the mug was removed.

  ‘Enough for now Master,’ Serim’s voice soothed as his fingers soothed more balm on Rhaki’s lips.

  Rhaki sank into darkness once more, but not as helplessly as before. This time, he looked for the silver threads and strained to hear the songs. The sounds came first, faint murmurs that he could not decipher or recognise. Then the jagged lines of pearly light began to flicker again. He exhausted himself quickly, vainly grabbing for the threads, and he slid back to true unconsciousness yet again.

  More days passed as Rhaki fought his way back to the world. It took longer because he was distracted and seduced by the dreams and the lights. But at last the red thread Rhaki had captured and drawn back into what was his life-thread, strengthened itself and blasted rage through the Grey One’s body.

  Rhaki groaned, his eyes opening after stars knew how many days. He lifted a hand to rub his brow and stared at it in astonishment. This spidery, near-translucent object was his hand. He flexed his fingers and marvelled at the movement of narrow bones sliding beneath the skin. His elbow bumped something and he turned his head.

  A jug stood on the floor beside him, and a shallow dish of soft berries. Rhaki tried to raise himself. His spine felt as if it was made of water and would never support him. Eventually though, he managed to half roll, half push himself to a near sitting position against the wall behind his head. He sat for a while, fluid he could ill afford to lose, drenching his face. With a renewed effort, he opened his eyes again and stretched a trembling hand for the berries. He was fairly sure that he would not be able to lift the jug, much as he longed for drink, but lifting a few small berries might be possible. His head throbbed with the effort he had expended in lifting a dozen berries to his mouth, chewing them and swallowing, when Serim entered the room.

  The Delver’s face lit with delight as he saw his master awkwardly propped against the stone wall. He put down the bowl and cloths he carried and knelt at Rhaki’s side, pushing pillows behind his shoulders and lifting the jug of water to Rhaki’s lips. The jug held only a small amount of water, Serim had feared to leave too much lest his master drink it all and make himself ill from it.

  He studied the gaunt face yet again. The skin was tight and flaking across the prominent cheekbones and blood seeped from cracked lips. But as Rhaki opened his eyes, Serim noted with relief that his master was back in his body, and that he recognised Serim.

  ‘Many days?’ Rhaki croaked.

  ‘Many days Master, but over the last four you have woken enough to let me give you a few spoonfuls of broth to strengthen you. I will bring you soft foods until you are able to move a little easier.’

  ‘Talk?’ Rhaki whispered hoarsely again.

  Serim smiled gently. ‘You said words that made no sense Master. Search through my mind
when you are stronger if you will. No one but I have approached you all this time.’

  Rhaki closed his eyes, it was just too tiring to keep them open. ‘Hargon?’ he asked.

  ‘Gone to the north Master, to spend some time with his children. No one knows of your weakness Master. I ordered the builders as I thought you might wish, saying you were most busy with further plans. I brought parchments and inks in here, so they believe you to have secluded yourself to work.’

  Blood dribbled as Rhaki’s mouth stretched in a rictus of a smile. Serim wiped the blood away.

  ‘Sleep again Master. Soon you will be restored.’ Serim eased Rhaki’s long body back to the mattress and drew the quilts carefully over him. Then he quietly withdrew.

  Rhaki lay awake, feeling the aches and stresses his body had suffered during the prolonged use of power he had endured to construct this tower in which he lay. He thought of Serim, of the respect and, yes, the affection he had glimpsed in the Delver’s dark eyes. He had needed to focus all his energy on his tower since Serim’s arrival here, but soon he would question him closely. Who were the Delvers? And why had this one felt he must come to serve him?

  He must retrieve the books from the chest in the cave as soon as he could. Perhaps in that ancient volume he had found among Guardian Kovas’s library, he would find clues to the white lightning threads that he had seen. Rhaki’s body lay still but his mind was fully alert again. The harder he thought of those strange lines and stranger voices, the more he was convinced that these things were not in his mind. Rather his mind had wandered into a different realm, a realm belonging to those singing dreamers. He pondered hard over the fact that ‘something’ had impeded his reaching them. All except the red thread, and he knew what that was. That was the worm of rage that had sprung into being when he found himself spied upon.