Perilous Shadows: Book 6 Circles of Light

by E. M. Sinclair

  Farn made a most undignified squawk as he was suddenly blinded, until Tika told the shadows to let them see. Then, Farn was highly amused. Tika hushed his chatter.

  ‘Cyrek will sense mind speech Farn, so stay quiet.’

  Shadow speech wasn’t exactly mind speech and she asked the shadow if Shivan was badly hurt. She waited anxiously.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tell him, if he’s able, to fly to the south of Cyrek. We’ll go to the north.’

  ‘Take.’

  She felt Farn’s panic as they plunged into total blackness again but when the shadows let them see, she found they were in the position she had wanted. She peered down over Farn’s shoulder and saw Cyrek moving in a slow gyre not far beneath her. Tika sensed his anger and his bafflement. He knew no gateway had opened, so where could she have gone? Tika drew power to her and began to weave the threads.

  ‘Other one more hurt.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Say not hurt. Hurt.’

  Tika swore. ‘Tell him to go back down.’

  But Shivan didn’t want to obey that order and he struggled against the confining shadows. He was visible long enough for Cyrek to give a bellow of triumph and spit fire across the space between them. Then Shivan disappeared again. But when Tika looked back, Cyrek too was gone.

  ‘Down,’ she screamed.

  Farn wailed as they plummeted earthwards but Tika gritted her teeth and hoped Cyrek’s gateway had taken him elsewhere than to the island of Skaratay.

  ‘Do you know where he went?’

  ‘No.’

  The shadows cleared and Farn was greatly relieved to find himself safe on the grass. Tika was already running towards Shivan’s crumpled body. He was in human form but his clothes were burnt away from the nape of his neck to the backs of his knees.

  ‘No.’ Khosa’s mind voice was sharp. ‘You must not heal him now, Tika. Let Kija keep him sleeping until this is done.’

  Tika slowed and stopped. Khosa was right. She might need every scrap of power she could muster after using so much on the Splintered Kingdom. Kija was already flying towards them and she settled beside Shivan.

  ‘Don’t think of him now child,’ she told Tika. ‘We will care for him.’

  Brin and Storm landed and Tika spun towards Brin.

  ‘Shield this area Brin, like you did near Green Shade! Hide all of it.’

  She hugged Farn. ‘Stay here please my dearest. Cyrek will come here next and I want you within the shield.’

  She raced for Darallax’s ruined house, finding Sket on her heels only when she had to slow to climb round some of the massive fallen blocks. She swore mightily and Sket grinned through every word. Tika had been clambering on as she swore, but she reached a relatively clear space. Straight ahead was another stretch of short grass and then the battered trees at the beginning of the woodland. A laugh shrieked at them and Tika jumped.

  She saw one of those gaudy birds they’d seen on their arrival here. Its orange chest and throat swelled again as it laughed from its perch on a fallen tree trunk. She glanced again at the rubble to her right and saw what she wanted: a space large enough to conceal her where two grey blocks tilted against each other. She couldn’t see over the debris back to where her company remained.

  ‘Are they shielded?’ she demanded, tugging Sket to the hidey hole she’d spotted.

  ‘I couldn’t see anything except grass, so they must be.’ He pulled free of her grip and drew his sword, joining her under the tilted stones. ‘Doesn’t look too safe to me,’ he muttered doubtfully.

  Tika ignored him, her senses questing outwards. There! A gateway had opened. She concentrated. By the river? No, beyond the other house, the one with the great painting at its heart. Then she heard him. Tika slammed her hand over Sket’s mouth.

  ‘You will stay here,’ she whispered. ‘If I can lure him near enough, take him in the back.’

  She glared at him until he nodded. Tika pushed him further back then a thought occurred. ‘Shadow, hide this man but let him see and hear.’

  Tika could still see Sket, looking a bit puzzled, but hopefully no one else would.

  ‘Hide me.’

  She moved quickly away from Sket, towards the edge of the woods. There she stood perfectly still, a shield around her beneath the shadows. Cyrek was laughing as he came round the corner of the tumbled building. Tika sensed the shields wrapped close about him but she also sensed that if they were the best he could raise, she should have no trouble blasting them away.

  Cyrek passed her and took four, five, more paces. He stopped abruptly well short of Sket’s hiding place and his back went rigid. He whirled, his hands raised chest high, eyes blazing. His gaze swept past her then slowly tracked back. Tika realised, too late, that Cyrek was staring at the ground. She risked a glance down and saw her own, real, shadow pointing almost directly towards Cyrek. Cold fire flashed from his mind, shadow spoke. fingertips.

  Tika flew backwards, pummelled as by hundreds of invisible fists. The shadows were scattered by the blast of power but regathered instantly. In Tika’s spinning mind she heard: ‘Let us.’

  Knowing she had made a stupidly bad and perhaps costly mistake, she gave a grunt of acquiescence. Black surrounded her then the tiny slit opened before her eyes. Tika found herself on top of the rubble at about three times Essa’s height. Cyrek was prowling below, his back to her, kicking at the air where he had glimpsed her. Her pendant began to feel warm and she tugged it out of her shirt. Drawing her sword, she told the shadow to put her back on the ground, behind Cyrek. She felt the shadow’s reluctance but it did as she asked.

  ‘Reveal me.’

  Cyrek spun, cold fire streaming from his fingers again, but Tika’s blood metal blade was up, across her face and chest. Cold fire hit the blade, and vanished. Cyrek drew his sword, fire blazing around Tika. She realised Cyrek was trying to cause the rubble to dislodge and fall upon her, and she laughed, stepping forward to engage his blade.

  Blood metal recognised blood metal, but Tika’s sword was ancient, forged by a Master Armourer of the Dark’s earliest times. It guided Tika’s hand and arm, moving faster than seemed possible. She heard stone grind behind her and skipped to Cyrek’s right. His face was full of hatred as she drew blood from his thigh. She sensed he was going to shift to Dragon form and called power.

  Tika felt a tremor of nervousness, aware that her power was still far less than before. She tangled a thread of confusion into Cyrek’s own power and saw a momentary frown appear when he found he couldn’t shift into his other shape. He snarled, raising his sword and something, like an unseen hand, swatted him aside. He cart wheeled through the air, over her head, to lie sprawled over the fallen blocks of Darallax’s house.

  Tika stood panting, her chest and shoulders throbbing from that first pummelling of cold fire against her shields. Cyrek didn’t move; his sword lay at her feet. Tika kicked it further away and looked for Sket. But the stones had shifted, she could see no cave like space.

  ‘Shadow, where is he?’

  ‘Safe.’

  A sound behind her whirled her round, sword at the ready and power surging to her call. Light shot from her pendant, a straight line of light which hit Cyrek low in the belly. Tika took a step back, seeing the rage which kept the Dark Lord on his feet and still coming at her. A screaming cackle ripped through the air and a huge mass of black feathers hit Cyrek’s chest, knocking him flat again.

  Tika realised she was trembling. She heard voices behind her but kept her eyes only on the struggle in front. She refused to look away. Cyrek’s eyes were gone already. He had pulled out handfuls of long black feathers which swirled around in the dusty air, but Hag’s massive beak hammered down, again, and again. Cyrek’s kicks and struggles slowed, his arms fell limp to the sides, and Hag stood on his chest. Tika saw the Raven’s talons had dug deep, were embedded in Cyrek’s chest, and his head was merely a ball of flesh, bone and blood.

  Hag looked over her shoulder, dark eyes rimme
d with gold glittering with something Tika couldn’t read. Her great beak gaped, dripping with gore.

  ‘I feared I would be too late to help you. My dearest.’

  Tika sank to her knees, her sword clattering onto the stone beside her. ‘Where have you been Hag?’ was all she could manage.

  Tika could read the glitter in Hag’s eyes now: an enormous anger. ‘This, this worm, he snared me. Snared the Hag of Dark.’

  Hag’s beak smashed down again into the pulped flesh, and Tika toppled sideways.

  When it was found that Tika was only unaccountably bruised all down her front, her company relaxed slightly. Sket was extricated from a pocket in the stone, gibbering with rage and worry. He calmed down when he found that Tika seemed relatively unharmed. He noticed at once that her pendant lay outside her shirt, and was pulsing in time with her heartbeat. He looked at Essa and Rhaki, and saw their pendants too were exposed, rather than hidden under their shirts. A tiny light flickered within both of them.

  The company kept their eyes away from the corpse sprawled on the rubble. Hag was still busy. Only Khosa went closer and perched within a wing’s length of the huge Raven. Essa lifted Tika, to take her to their makeshift camp. Even green grass amid the rubble was preferable to where they were just now. Sket watched Hag and Khosa for a moment before turning to follow the others. But Shea was still there, tears streaming though the dust on her face. Sket bent to put an arm around her.

  ‘What is it child? It looks like our Lady Tika’s won.’

  Shea slid her hand inside her shirt. When she withdrew it, Sket saw the gleam of Dragon scale between her fingers. She opened her hand. An opalescent scale lay on her palm, split cleanly in two halves.

  ‘Oh my stars,’ Sket whispered.

  Shea leaned against him, sobbing. ‘Lord Dabray is gone,’ she wailed.

  Darallax and his councillors had been with the companions. He had seen what was left of the renegade Lord Cyrek. And he had watched Hag, plundering the corpse. Hag had raised her head and stared at the Shadow Lord for a long moment. Her beak gaped silently and she had turned back to her feast. Khosa stayed with her, through the blood red sunset which stained the whole sky this evening, and on through half the night. Konya assured and reassured the company that Tika was just plain exhausted. Her body was black and blue, from her chin to her feet, although no one was sure what could have caused that. Onion merely blinked, and told them to leave her alone, let her sleep.

  People were wary around Onion now. He had ambled over to Shivan’s burnt body, laughed and wandered off. Those nearby watched him indignantly, but when they turned back to tend Shivan they found his burns were gone, only slightly reddened skin suggesting he had been injured. No one noticed Shivan’s absence during that night, but soon after day break a gateway opened.

  Lord Shivan stood there, and beside him was Garrol, Shield Master and Armourer of the Dark Realm. Those members of the company originally from that Realm, saw something was different at once. Essa, Dog, Fedran and Geffal came to attention, their eyes riveted to Garrol’s back. The round black shield which denoted his rank, was missing, and he did not wear the black uniform. He wore dark blue shirt and trousers, a silver Dragon insignia on his upper left chest.

  Garrol walked slowly towards the company, Shivan a pace behind and set a large pack on the ground by his feet.

  ‘I have been released from my service to the First Daughter with the approval and blessing of Mother Dark,’ he said quietly. ‘I ask permission to join this company, in service to Lady Tika, for as long as she and Mother Dark permits.’

  It was left to Sket to find an answer.

  ‘As you see, Lady Tika sleeps. For myself you are welcome, but Lady Tika must confirm or deny you when she rouses.’

  Garrol nodded. ‘I also bring an edict.’

  Sket raked his hands through his hair. ‘Oh do sit down Garrol. Formality kills me. Have some tea and tell us what, in the name of the stars, is an edict?’

  Garrol smiled and joined Sket by the fire, accepting a tea bowl from Dromi.

  ‘It was brought to our attention that Lady Tika made a wish, by the lake called Blue Mirror.’ He sipped his tea, clearly enjoying the baffled looks he was getting.

  ‘Lady Tika said that she longed for a peaceful place, like the lands around Blue Mirror, a place she could claim as her home.’

  He held up a slender scroll case. ‘This edict is, in fact, a Concession of Sovereignty. There is a place that the First Daughter and Lord Dabray found, soon after the Dark Realm withdrew behind the Barrier Mountains. It was a place precious to them and now they offer it to Lady Tika. It is a high valley, encircled by mountains, perhaps a hundred miles west to east, between twenty and forty miles north to south. The great ocean is twenty miles to the west. The First Daughter suggests we go there immediately, so it might be the first thing Lady Tika sees when she wakes.’

  Onion chuckled. ‘She’ll get well there,’ he agreed.

  ‘Do the lights tell you that, Onion?’ asked Essa.

  Onion nodded, still chuckling.

  Sket looked at Tika, deeply asleep against Farn’s chest. Then he looked at the ruins around them. He knew Tika would insist on helping, on healing whoever asked her, and she had spent too much of herself over this year.

  ‘Right everyone, look sharp. I’ll take Lady Tika on Farn and Kija, would you please carry Konya?’

  ‘Of course I will, and any others who get sick in your plain old gateways.’ Kija’s eyes sparkled at Sket and he realised that the Dragons, like everyone else, needed a good long rest.

  Khosa, who had been in Shea’s arms, wiggled to be put down, and stalked stiff legged and fluffy tailed to sniff at Garrol’s pack. He laughed and loosened one of its many pockets. A brown furry face peeked worriedly out and Khosa promptly set about washing it. Sket grinned: Resh, one of Khosa’s sons, had clearly adopted Garrol. Resh withdrew again and Khosa allowed herself to be tucked into her carry sack. Shea hooked the strap round her neck.

  ‘Does Hag know where we’ll be?’ she whispered.

  Khosa yawned. ‘She’s already there.’

  Tika rarely dreamt, or if she did, she never remembered anything of them, but she was dreaming now. She was in First Daughter Lerran’s bed chamber and only Lerran and the Palace Master Corman were present. The Palace Master was sitting on the bed supporting Lerran’s long fragile body in his arms. His face was a mask of grief. But Lerran looked beautiful, her face smooth, serene, a smile tilting her lips up.

  ‘It must be as I ask Corman.’ Lerran’s words were the barest sound.

  Corman shook his head. ‘My time is truly ended. I have failed again.’

  A long transparent hand struggled up to touch his face. ‘You have never failed us, dearest friend. But it must be your decision, your choice. I beg you though, stay a little longer. Shivan will have great need of you, of your wisdom and your experience. He is the Grandson of Mother Dark. I name him my only heir, but there will be many to gainsay him. Help him Corman. You will know when he is ready to rule alone.’

  ‘Is this why you accepted Garrol’s departure? You knew this would happen?’

  In Tika’s dream, Lerran seemed almost too weary to continue drawing breath to speak.

  ‘We knew. She is the child we waited for, Corman, the one we hoped for.’

  ‘What child?’

  ‘Elza’s many times great grandchild.’

  ‘Are you sure Elza lived to bear a child?’

  ‘Oh yes. We knew. You found Kofi’s body and Ferag told us he had passed through her Realm. But Elza never did. She survived. Somewhere. And so her line has returned. Perhaps not to rule here as she should, but she lives. Corman, what joy that has given us, to know that. Even though we are not to spend time with her, watching her, loving her, we know that she lives.’

  Tika saw Corman looking down into Lerran’s great gold eyes as her head leaned against his shoulder. Then Corman glanced up across the bed, and he closed his own eyes. Tika saw who st
ood there: an incredibly beautiful woman with long dark red hair, wearing a dress that seemed made of cobwebs of the same colour. Lerran smiled again, a hand creeping over the bed covers towards Ferag.

  Ferag’s return smile was full of love and compassion but before their hands met, both women looked to Corman.

  ‘I will serve Shivan until I deem him able to rule entirely alone,’ he whispered.

  Lerran’s smile was radiant and she turned once more to Ferag. But her gaze snagged on something else. The First Daughter’s eyes widened and her hand stretched towards Tika.

  ‘Oh my darling child.’

  On Farn’s back, Sket held Tika close. He counted eleven heartbeats and they emerged into a sparkling blue sky, breathing air that was clean and sharp with the scent of mountains. They were higher than he’d expected them to be but the height offered Sket a spectacular view of the meandering valley which now apparently belonged to the Lady in his arms.

  It was as though it had been scooped out with a giant spoon. Sharply peaked and pleated mountains towered on every side but their snowy shoulders gave way to dark rock, then to pine forests, then to the pale green of new leaf on trees whose leaves were shed each year. Sket saw the glitter of small streams and, as Farn turned, a small lake appeared, its waters as green as Lady Tika’s eyes. Kija gave a great bugling cry and Brin repeated it. Sket watched a flock of geese rise in alarm from the lake.

  As Farn dropped lower, Sket spotted what looked like deer vanishing among the trees. Lush grass spread along the valley floor speckled with bright flowers – yellow, white, pink, red and blue. Kija called again and turned to the northern wall of the valley. The land rose higher, towards the rocky feet of the mountain, and there Kija landed. Konya slid from between Kija’s wings, staring this way and that. She walked across to join Sket.

  ‘It’s beautiful, so beautiful,’ she whispered.

  He nodded. The rise on which they stood was high enough to give them a view over a large area. It was green, and quiet, and utterly peaceful. The air shimmered below them and the rest of their company appeared, but almost instantly Shivan moved away from them, his expression one of anguish. The smell of burnt cinnamon gusted over them and Shivan was rising into the sky in his Dragon shape. They watched him climb higher, then he was gone.