Perilous Shadows: Book 6 Circles of Light

by E. M. Sinclair

  When he nodded, she started for the door, Farn close behind. She paused. ‘I am confident nothing more will happen here for at least a day,’ she told the companions. ‘I must see Corman. I fear what the Dark Ones may have heard and assumed.’

  Sket nodded although he wasn’t happy. But Farn swung his head to peer over his shoulder.

  ‘You will come with us. Of course.’

  Sket’s face showed his relief and he was up and after Farn at once. ‘You have command, Sergeant,’ he called as he vanished into the dark wet garden.

  There wasn’t the sensation of falling, of tumbling, as Tika and Sket were taken through the Dragon gateway. They arrived above the roof terrace of the Karmazen Palace in a bright sunlit sky, having left Gaharn in torrentially heavy rain. As Tika and Sket slid from Farn’s back and Shivan moved into his human form, Tika was immediately aware of disturbance within the Palace. Farn paced into the arched entrance beside Tika and came face to face with Peshan. The Dark Lord held out his hands in welcome.

  ‘I hoped you would come. I felt sure you could explain what happened this morning.’

  ‘Where is Lord Corman?’ Tika asked without preamble.

  ‘With Lerran. Many heard a cry in their minds and they have gathered below. Favrian has told them we will give an explanation after midday.’ He glanced nervously at the sun.

  ‘And is Lord Cyrek in attendance?’

  Peshan grew even more worried. ‘I saw him among the others, in the audience hall. His face is badly bruised and cut.’

  Shivan caught his father’s hand. ‘Cyrek is the traitor father. We know that for sure.’

  ‘But it isn’t time to confront him yet,’ Tika put in quickly. ‘I need to learn more, dangerous though it will be to leave him free. He must not yet know he is found out.’

  Peshan gave her a curt nod. ‘Will you address those waiting below Lady Tika?’

  Tika cringed inwardly but nodded. ‘I must speak to Corman first. Alone.’

  Peshan simply held his arm out towards the smaller door to the First Daughter’s bed chamber. Tika went hurriedly along the passage and found Shield Master Garrol before Lerran’s door. A huge smile welcomed her appearance, and without hesitation, Tika walked straight into his arms, hugging him tightly. He held her away, his face serious.

  ‘Is it Cyrek?’

  ‘Yes, but you mustn’t try to take him yet.’

  Garrol frowned. ‘You will be careful.’

  It was an order and Tika hugged him again. ‘Let me see Corman,’ was her only reply.

  The First Daughter was asleep when Tika went in and she spoke quickly and quietly to the Palace Master. He caught her hand as she turned to leave.

  ‘Take great care child. He isn’t just arrogant, he does have a great deal of skill with power.’

  When Tika emerged she found Garrol and Sket talking softly while they waited for her.

  ‘Peshan wants me to talk to your people,’ she told Garrol. ‘I don’t see why they should accept anything I might tell them.’

  ‘They know of you, even if many of them never saw you. Word got out that Lord Dabray himself endorsed your position among us.’ Garrol’s blue eyes sparkled.

  ‘Now I wonder how that happened?’ Tika smiled.

  Peshan and Shivan joined them. ‘I think it best that my son remains here, Lady Tika,’ Peshan said. ‘He is young and well known to be “different”. It would not be wise to have him at your side right now.’

  Tika’s chin came up but after a moment’s thought, she nodded. ‘Let’s get this over with and then we must go back to Gaharn.’

  Peshan led the way, his long legs scissoring along the corridors. Tika did not miss the fact that there were very many black uniformed guards on every corner and lining the first staircase she descended. Sket was at her left shoulder, the Shield Master at her right. Peshan took them into a small room filled with the sound of many voices. Tika saw the room was open on one whole side and guessed it overlooked the lower hall.

  She paused, letting Peshan move forward and raise his left hand. The voices fell silent as people saw the Dark Lord, brother of the First Daughter, standing above them, clearly with something to say.

  ‘The Lady Tika has returned to give you the explanation for the voice that named Lord Corman a foul beast.’

  He stepped to one side, Tika took a deep breath and drew power tightly across the front of the open space. She was comforted when she felt Sket and Garrol close up on either side of her. She looked down at a sea of countless faces, most of them with the golden eyes of full blooded Dark Ones. A casual survey showed her Cyrek, leaning, arms folded against one of the pillars almost directly opposite. Tika’s gaze slid past him, refusing to hold his gaze or offer any recognition.

  ‘Last night, or early this morning to you here, the Crazed One sent one of his creations to attack the Lady Emla of Gaharn and Sapphrea. The creature fled, but the Crazed One called the name of your Palace Master. I know that name was used to deliberately plant mistrust and confusion among the people of this Realm. I can swear to you, that Lord Corman remains the most trustworthy servant of your First Daughter, and thus of all of you.

  ‘You must beware of further words the Crazed One may try to put into your minds – you heard his voice, you will know it again because it is something he cannot disguise. I will tell you that we have plans to put an end to the Splintered Kingdom’s interference in this world which are nearly finalised. I also ask you to be aware that Lord Chindar left one behind, who is still among you. He is the traitor who will shortly be unmasked. I must return with all speed to the Lady Emla. Thank you for listening to me, and I beg you, remain watchful.’

  She inclined her head slightly and moved back into the room, out of sight of the throng below. Even as she’d been speaking, she had sent the thinnest thread towards Cyrek, touching his mind lightly as a feather. She had felt his smugness, his conceit, his secret glee that she knew nothing of him or of his involvement with the Crazed One. Tika had seen the bruises on his face and recognised them for what they were.

  When she had been growing up, a child slave of Lord Hargon of Return, she had seen him strike armsmen, backhanded blows across their faces, which left just such marks. Now she extended her sense of hearing to untangle the jumbled buzz of conversation which was starting again in the hall. She was relieved to hear that most of her audience had accepted her words and no one had realised there had been a layer of compulsion between those words to make them reject any doubts they might have harboured.

  The three men watched her, knowing she was listening in a way they could not. Finally she sighed.

  ‘That’s all I can do for now, Lord Peshan. Do not let Cyrek suspect that you are aware of his treachery. He is very dangerous although far less intelligent than he so fondly believes. Do not approach him, please, any of you. And do not let him near the First Daughter under any circumstances.’

  Peshan and Garrol listened to this small woman gravely. Standing a little behind Tika, Sket watched and noted yet again how this child had grown so quickly into her power and authority. She seemed unaware of the fact that she was giving instruction to two of the most powerful men in the Dark Realm. And that they were listening, and would, without doubt, abide by those instructions.

  Sket’s hand tightened on his sword hilt as the door suddenly opened. Sword Master Favrian stood there, his golden eyes meeting Tika’s green silvered stare. He drew himself to his full height. His left thumb went to his brow, his lips, his chest, then his hand extended towards her, open palm upwards. He said nothing, but there was nothing to say. Sket had quickly learned that the formal salute of the Dark Ones was given only as a mark of immense respect, and as a tacit offer of service. That the Sword Master of the Dark Realm should make such a salute to his Lady Tika said something that Sket would have to ponder over at his leisure.

  Sket found it confusing to arrive back in Gaharn early in the morning. Navan had tried to explain about the different times in the differ
ent parts of this world, but Sket had concluded Tika’s attitude was best: just accept these peculiarities and don’t attempt to understand them. Shivan was nearly asleep on his feet when they entered the pavilion and Volk took the young Dark Lord off to settle him in one of the beds to sleep undisturbed. Sket found Tika regarding him with a quizzical expression.

  ‘What?’ he demanded suspiciously.

  ‘You don’t feel sick?’

  Sket frowned. ‘Well – no – I don’t.’

  ‘You’d better travel Dragon gateways in future then, you and Konya both. Then you’d be of some use when we get wherever we’re going, rather than sitting around looking green.’ She giggled at his look of outrage. ‘I’m going to the House to see Onion.’

  Sket stared after her but was distracted by Dromi and Essa demanding a report on the visit to the Dark Realm.

  A maid showed Tika to Onion’s room and she slipped in quietly. A tall man was bent over the bed, who glanced up as Tika came in. She saw Rhaki asleep in an armchair on the other side of the bed, and Konya curled on a pallet by the wall.

  ‘How is he, Kollas?’ Tika asked, moving closer.

  ‘I am very pleased with the healing. There has been no real infection and the burns are very minor, as you see.’

  Kollas placed a fresh pad over Onion’s eye socket and Tika saw a line of stitches along the cheekbone. She needed only the lightest thought and the stitches disappeared, leaving a narrow white scar from the bridge of Onion’s nose to his right ear.

  ‘He is trying to wake, Tika. It is harder to keep him unconscious.’

  ‘It would do no harm to let him come round, would it?’

  Kollas gave a half shrug. ‘He has lost an eye and he has lost a friend. He will need time to adjust to both.’

  ‘Let him wake as he wills, Kollas. I’m sure Dog will stay with him.’

  ‘Dog?’ Kollas straightened. ‘A very odd name for a lady.’

  Tika snorted. ‘Never, never, let her hear you refer to her as a lady, Kollas.’

  ‘She went to fetch breakfast just now.’ Kollas studied the other two members of Tika’s company. ‘Konya is a healer with considerable talent, much of it latent. Nesh and I have both touched her mind a little, enough to activate some of her power. With her consent of course,’ he added hurriedly. ‘She sat up with Onion too long when he had a slight fever the first night, but she sleeps now – a natural sleep.’

  ‘And Rhaki? Did his pendant burn him?’

  Kollas wiped his hands on a cloth and regarded the man in the armchair. ‘Fascinating case. He really has his original personality restored, yet in such a different body.’

  ‘Rhaki is my friend,’ Tika corrected him, rather sharply. ‘He is not a case.’

  ‘Well no, I didn’t mean any offence of course.’

  Tika stooped to move Rhaki’s shirt aside. The pendant Babach had given him rested on a strip of linen, green unguent oozing round the dressing’s edges. She glanced at Kollas.

  ‘It burnt quite deeply. It was very quick. One minute he was sitting there, linked with your far seeking I believe, and the next we could smell burning flesh. Konya pulled the pendant away. It was very bright, and pulsing. I didn’t check at the time, but at a guess, I would say it was in time with Rhaki’s pulse.’

  Tika focused on the burn hidden from her normal vision, and healed it. It still worried her, the great reservoir of power she knew she now held. She felt that healing in particular should cost her something, else she feared she could fall into the trap of taking her abilities too casually. The door clicked open behind her and turning, she saw Dog bringing a tray, laden with hot bread, and tea, and some of Emla’s cooks’ famous honey berry oats. Tika sniffed appreciatively.

  ‘Onion will probably wake soon. Would you prefer that I stayed with him?’

  Dog shook her head, easing the tray onto a table. ‘I’ll stay. They’re setting breakfast out, so you’d better go and grab some. You’re nearly dribbling over my porridge.’

  Tika started to leave, then turned back. ‘We went to the Dark Realm, Dog. To make sure no one believed Corman was the one in league with the Splintered Kingdom. Cyrek was there. Someone has hit him recently, hard.’

  Dog’s bared teeth bore no resemblance to a smile. ‘That’s nothing to what I’ll do to him, given half a chance.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tika lingered in the hall after the morning meal, discussing events with Emla. Light dazzled in from the wet garden, the sun reflecting from every puddle and water covered leaf.

  ‘I feel of so little use to you, dear one,’ Emla admitted. ‘I felt I had a tenuous grasp of what was happening until you vanished from the southern plains and Farn began to scream. I understand nothing of the Dark, although Shiral has been more than generous in giving her time to trying to instruct me.’

  Tika stood by the open doors, watching all four Dragons gazing enraptured, at the sparkling garden. She wondered what Emla found so hard to comprehend. It seemed simple enough to her. She went back and sat on a stool near Emla’s chair.

  ‘And what little you’ve told me of these Old Blood people,’ Emla shook her head. ‘It was a shock to learn the Dark Ones could change their shapes to become Dragons, but now I must believe that Volk’s people can change to any beast form.’

  Tika started to smile then frowned instead. ‘Do you remember when Mim and I first came here?’

  Emla smiled fondly. ‘Well of course I do.’

  ‘No, I mean when Nesh and Kemti were – testing us, I suppose. Kemti said there were “markers” in our blood. Now what did he say? Yes – Mim had Dragon markers as well as something else. And I had markers indicating my blood was linked somehow with your people. Do you remember?’

  Emla nodded slowly.

  ‘I don’t understand how they could tell that – perhaps Kemti could show me sometime – but he might see something in Volk’s blood, or Dromi’s.’

  Tika’s enthusiasm was growing when Nesh sent a warning, clear and sharp, to alert all with talent that something was happening on the border. Tika dashed outside, heading for the pavilion, the Dragons at her heels. She saw that only Essa had felt Nesh’s warning, but then Rhaki staggered in behind her.

  ‘Sorry. I was asleep. I’m fine.’ He waved away Tika’s concern.

  Farn had entered and reclined near the door. Tika took her usual position, cross legged on the floor against his chest.

  ‘Watch through Farn,’ she told the others, even as she mind spoke Kija. ‘Hold the thread for me Kija.’ And her mind soared away.

  She went straight for the Candle Hills, hovering high above the spot where she’d felt Karlesh had sunk into the ground, whether voluntarily or not. She felt no sense of Karlesh at all now. The ground was even more disturbed than she remembered, half the hillside seemed sheared away. Tika’s mind stayed well away but she intensified the focus of her eyes.

  Two flat slabs of upright grey stone supported a third slab set across the top: unmistakeably a doorway or entrance. She estimated the height as being very low, she guessed small as she was, she would have to stoop to pass through. The slabs of stone were smooth, as clean edged as if they had only just been placed there, but she could see they were, in fact, well embedded. These had stood here, hidden, for many ages.

  And Karlesh had entered and was now far from this place. She could sense no traps of the kind she had seen on her first experience within the Splintered Kingdom, nor any such as those described to her by Shea and Gossamer Tewk. Tika propelled her mind lower, but still distant from the small stone slabs of the doorway, so that she could try to see further inside.

  Even with her sight enhanced, she could barely see a pace beyond the threshold. Then it was total blackness. Swiftly she sent her mind eastwards, along the line of the Candle Hills, until she sensed a trace, a whisper, of Karlesh’s trails. But even as she felt it, it was gone like mist in bright sunshine. For another few heartbeats, Tika surveyed the Hills and realised they were far too regu
larly sized, far too neatly aligned, to be a natural product of the landscape.

  She suspected that trace of Karlesh had been a false lead, somehow planted to distract her from his real direction. Suddenly irritated by the games the Crazed One was forcing her to play, Tika returned to her body in the pavilion. She found Emla and Kemti had joined her friends as they all watched what Tika had seen, relayed through Farn’s mind. Emla looked deeply puzzled.

  ‘He had gone, hadn’t he?’ she asked. ‘That warning Nesh felt was only to distract us. But from what?’

  Tika stretched her back. ‘Your Seniors are still watching, all round the City, aren’t they Emla?’

  ‘Certainly, and there are extremely talented watchers among them.’

  Tika scratched her head in exasperation. ‘This is a game,’ she said angrily. ‘But whose game? I begin to suspect that the Crazed One would not have the patience for mere games. Cyrek’s hand is in this.’

  She got to her feet. ‘I will walk for a while. I think it unwise for me to go far from the estate just now, so I’ll walk in your gardens.’

  ‘May I come?’ Shea sounded uncharacteristically nervous.

  Although Tika would, in fact, have preferred her own company, she knew Shea would not have asked just to impose her presence.

  ‘If you wish,’ she said, stepping outside.

  When Tika and Shea had gone, Emla sighed.

  ‘I so hate that all these troubles seem to devolve on that child,’ she murmured, then looked uncomfortable at allowing a personal thought to be expressed. ‘Did you notice the Hills from that long view Tika gave us?’ she asked in a different tone.

  It was the Old Blood, Dromi, who answered. ‘I have seen such places before, my lady. The far northern lands of Drogoya, considered uninhabited -’ he smiled, ‘since Sedka’s days. There is in fact a quite large population – of my people, in that region.’

  He became silent, studying his long fingers for many moments. When he looked up, he looked first at Volk before turning again to Lady Emla.

  ‘We call ourselves Old Bloods because as far as we can ascertain, we are the oldest peoples in the greater land known now as Drogoya. The earliest records we have were written down when we were ruled by Mage Kings and Queens. And sixty-three of those ruled before the lineage was lost. When they died, all were buried in small stone houses which were then covered with offerings, gifts, baubles, from the ordinary people who would travel for days to say their farewells. When the last gifts were laid, mages spelled the great heap so that it would all stay rigidly in place. Finally the mound was covered with soil and turf.’