‘It’s the bleeding that I particularly object to,’ Eva retorted. ‘Perhaps we could agree on there being less of that.’
‘No more bleeding,’ Tren agreed gravely. ‘I don’t enjoy it, you know.’
‘I’m relieved to hear that.’
Tren eyed her. ‘Are you planning to stay on the other side of the room? Because I think it would be more fun if you came a bit closer.’
He sounded like Tren, but there was a strained edge to his words that suggested it was an effort for him to maintain the usual banter. He was trying hard to be himself, but of course he wasn’t. Traces of pain still lingered in his eyes, no matter how much he tried to laugh.
But she knew that the banter was necessary for him. He clung to levity; it was the only way he knew how to survive when the worst happened. So she played along. ‘A bit closer?’ Eva took two small steps into the room. ‘Is that better?’
‘Better,’ he said with disapproval. ‘But not much better.’
Two more steps. ‘How about now?’
Tren measured the remaining distance with a glance. ‘I’d say about five more ought to be perfect.’
Eva took five more steps. Before she had time to say anything else, Tren reached out and pulled her onto the bed. She landed on his lap.
‘Ouch,’ he sighed.
‘So you’re still hurting.’ She removed to a safer part of the bed and peeled back the blankets. ‘Let’s see the damage.’
‘All the important things are intact,’ he protested, trying to hang on to the blankets. She wrestled them off him and pulled up his shirt.
His torso was much healthier than last time she’d seen it, but many of his wounds were not yet fully healed. She stared at them in silence, appalled anew at the number and the character of the abrasions.
‘All right,’ she said, steeling herself. ‘Tell me what happened.’ She let his shirt drop once more and replaced the blankets.
‘Come under here first,’ he said, lifting the blanket again. ‘I need some closeness.’ There was no levity in his tone at all; that fact encouraged her to obey without a moment’s delay. Only when she was nestled as close as she could be without hurting him did he begin.
‘So,’ he sighed. ‘I got dragged off to one of those infernal cells of his. Just like Dev described: sterile and impossible to break out of. They left me there, but before long the woman came back - the hard-faced one who seemed to be in charge - and Krays was with her. They looked at me like I was some kind of lab specimen, and asked themselves why I might be there. They weren’t speaking our language, of course, but I understood enough to get the gist of it. Krays said I was one of Limbane’s. It seems they’ve taken to simply “disposing of” any of Limbane’s people they find wandering about in there, no questions asked. Krays said the same policy should be employed here, and turned to go.’
Eva’s frown turned into a dark glower at this news. Limbane must have known about Krays’s policy of casual “disposal”; no wonder he hesitated to send any of his people into the rival Library anymore. But he could have mentioned that when she had revealed her own plan.
‘I don’t know what made me think of it - desperation, probably - but I recalled that note you had. As soon as I said the word “Orlind”, Krays’s attitude changed. It was like he’d revised his conclusions about me on the spot; instead of being a nuisance to be disposed of, I had become someone dangerous.
‘The rest was... unpleasant. I was asked to explain what I’d meant, to reveal what I knew about Orlind. The questions went on for a while: what did I know, why had I mentioned it, who was I really, that kind of thing. The whole time I was living in mortal fear that they would realise I wasn’t a Lokant, or that would have been the end of me. I didn’t think any mere human would have scared them that much. I had to use quite a bit of sorcery to make sure they didn’t guess about the wig. Difficult, under those circumstances.
‘Anyway, I told them nothing - which wasn’t hard, given that I knew nothing - and after a while they left. Apparently they had some other plan for my entertainment, which didn’t sound fun, so I made myself invis and when they returned, I managed to get past them and out the door. I had to keep moving for a while after that, while they searched. Eventually everything went quiet. And... a while later you found me.’
‘In fact it was Rikbeek who found you outside the prison complex, huddled against a wall.’
‘Ah, well. Hoorah for him.’
‘I don’t think I would have found you otherwise. Your invisibility was very good.’
He frowned. ‘I can’t have been wholly unconscious, then, or the enchantment would have worn off. I suppose I was confused.’
The discussion was making Eva tearful, which was absurd. Tears wouldn’t help. She blotted her damp eyes on Tren’s shirt, a gesture he didn’t miss.
‘Hey,’ he murmured, tightening his embrace. ‘Everything’s all right now. I’m fine, and you’re fine, in spite of your death-defying heroics.’
She chuckled, though the sound came out choked. ‘How impossible of you to be soothing me.’
‘Shouldn’t I?’
‘You’re the one who’s suffered. Not to mention the disconcertingly direct threat of an unpleasant demise.’
‘How like you to talk fancy even when you’re upset,’ was all he said in reply. ‘You can have a good sob, if you like,’ he added. ‘You’ll feel better.’
‘But I’ll ruin your shirt.’
‘You can always get me some more.’ He smiled down at her.
‘Traditions ought to be upheld, this is true,’ she agreed. ‘But, Tren,’ she said, pulling herself together with an effort. ‘Some questions for you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Did you get any idea at all why they care so much about Orlind?’
‘None whatsoever.’
‘Damn,’ she sighed.
‘Doesn’t matter though.’
‘Oh?’
‘The experience may have been unpleasant, but at least it confirmed that your mysterious note-writer is correct. Krays cares very much about Orlind, and that’s all we needed to know.’
‘But we don’t know why.’
‘So? The best way to find out what’s so special about Orlind is to go there.’
Eva stared at him. ‘Tren, you may be a genius.’
‘I know,’ he said modestly. ‘Only once every ten years or so though, alas.’
‘Well, you’ve put this decade’s quota to good use.’ She was already accessing the Map in her mind, searching for the way into the Seventh Realm.
It wasn’t there.
She frowned and tried again, applying the full force of her will to the attempt. There was something there, hovering to the west of Irbel in her mind’s eye, but whatever it was lay behind a dense shroud, like layers of tightly-woven cloth. Try as hard as she would, it could not be penetrated.
‘Curse it,’ Eva swore. ‘They’ve hidden it on the bloody Map, too!’
‘Not surprising, when you think about it,’ Tren observed.
‘But then how are we to get there?’
‘Fly.’
‘Fly? If it was that simple, people would have gone before.’
‘No they wouldn’t. No one from Glinnery could fly so high or so far in those conditions, and those flying machines you told me about are brand new, aren’t they? I bet a draykon could make it, though.’
She blinked. ‘That’s twice in ten years, Tren. Twice in ten minutes. It’s making me feel stupid, I don’t mind telling you.’
‘You’re many things, m’lady - maddening, infuriating, wild and difficult to live with - but not stupid.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Any time.’
‘So we’ll ask Llandry to take us,’ she decided. ‘And Orillin.’
‘What about Pensould?’
Oh, yes; she hadn’t told him about that yet. She did so now, but recounting that part of the tale required her to share everything she knew about the Waeverleyne conflic
t and that took some time.
‘Shit,’ Tren said when she’d finished. ‘I can’t believe we’ve lost Pensould.’
‘Llan’s working on it.’
‘I thought you said they’ve lost his remains?’
‘Yes, but she’ll get them back. She can be formidable when she cares about something, more than I think she realises. She’ll fix it.’
‘Perhaps we’d better go to Waeverleyne, then, and see how it goes on. That way we’ll be ready to go as soon as they are.’
‘We?’ she repeated, looking up at him with raised brows. ‘Someone here isn’t finished healing yet.’
‘I’m fine,’ he snorted. ‘I’ve had many fine Lokants working on me, day and night. You know what that means.’
‘It means you still need time to finish the regaining-your-strength part on your own. Remember, we’ve done this before.’
‘I’m fine,’ Tren repeated tetchily, trying to throw her and the blankets off at the same time. ‘See, I’ll prove it.’
Eva clung on. ‘You’re welcome to prove it. As long as it doesn’t involve leaving the bed, or being anything other than mostly horizontal.’
Tren gave her a speculative look. ‘That could be arranged.’ He began unlacing her blouse, a difficult task with only one free hand.
Eva knew she ought to refuse; the last thing she wanted to do was aggravate his injuries. But she was as much in need of comfort as he was. ‘You will stop me, if I’m hurting you?’
Tren gave her a smile; a real one. ‘Not a chance.’
Chapter Twenty Eight
Llandry was not surprised to find no trace either of her grandfather or Mags in Waeverleyne. She couldn’t really blame them for removing themselves from the city, since there wasn’t much else that her grandfather could have done in the later stages of the battle. But she might have respected him more if he had tried.
She spent the next few hours in a fever of impatience, missing Pensould sorely. Sigwide’s company cheered her; she learned from him that her father had never let the orting out of his sight, and had carried the creature around with good grace no matter what he was doing. Poor Siggy had gone hungry more than he was used to, of course, so she made up for this by feeding him some extra good things while she waited.
Watching the sun setting late in the afternoon, it occurred to her to notice that the Day Cloak had never wavered throughout the conflict. Here it came now, blanketing the remains of Waeverleyne in the soothing evenglow that she had always loved; it was a calming time of day to her mind. How the sorcerers had maintained the Cloak in spite of the chaos, she couldn’t guess, but it was admirable. If they had let it slip, darkness would have fallen over Glinnery for the first time in generations, and many light-loving plants would have suffered. As it was, the damage was mostly confined to the capital.
Ori found her sitting on the balcony of her home. The balcony was nearly all that remained of the building, so it was a melancholy state in which he found her.
‘Good news,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Your ploy worked out. The drayks are calling for their leader’s remains to be returned to them.’
‘Eterna? Why?’
‘Something to do with the missing drayk. Oh, they admit they do have a missing comrade by this time, though it took a while. Iver told them they can have Eterna - when they return Pensould.’
Llandry stared up at him, holding her breath. ‘And?’
‘They agreed,’ he said, beaming. ‘Iver’s sent some men out to bring Pensould back. Soon as it’s confirmed, he’ll hand over Eterna.’
Llandry bounced to her feet, awash with feelings of relief and excitement. ‘Dear Iver, I could hug him.’
Ori laughed. ‘I think it was your doing as much as his. Still, since he isn’t here you can hug me instead. If you like.’
Delighted to hug anyone at all just at that moment, Llandry was happy to do so. Ori gave her a thorough squeeze, lifting her off her feet. ‘You were a brave drayk, you know that?’ he said.
‘You too, Ori,’ she smiled. ‘Where did they hide Pense?’
‘Over the border in Glour, would you believe? Cunning, because it didn’t occur to us to look there. They had him buried deep, too.’
Llandry swallowed a lump in her throat. How could they have treated her Pensould in such a way! And to speak so casually of the state of his mortal remains was chilling, though she didn’t blame Ori for it. He viewed it in the light of a temporary setback, like an injured colleague. Pensould would soon be up and about again, once he and Llandry were given access to him. She was the only one who took it so much to heart.
Ori thought it would take Iver’s men some time to return with Pensould, but still they took to the wing to travel to the designated meeting point. It was a relief to fly freely again, without fear of attack. Relishing the gentle caress of the wind across her wings, Llan tried hard not to look too closely at the wreck of her city. They had won the battle; time enough now to heal the damage.
To her surprise, Pensould’s body already lay waiting when they landed. A quick glance at Ori drew a rueful smile from him.
‘I knew you’d be half-crazed with impatience if I told you the news too soon,’ he admitted. ‘Waiting must be torture. So I gave them a head start before I came to you.’
‘A big one, it seems,’ Llandry said, unsure whether to feel grateful or annoyed. She settled on gratitude. ‘Thank you, Ori. You’re considerate.’
His shrewd look suggested that he knew her thanks were not unqualified, but he said nothing. Standing back, he let Llandry approach Pensould first.
It hurt, to see his proud form laid out inert in the moss. At least this place was beyond the limits of war-torn Waeverleyne, and Pensould’s bed was healthy, vibrant, undamaged plant life.
‘Let’s begin,’ she said to Ori, unwilling to delay a moment longer.
‘Just tell me what you need me to do,’ he said.
Llandry closed her eyes, reaching out to Pensould with her draykon senses. The first thing she encountered was fractured bones, torn muscles and ruptured hide; he had incurred a lot of damage in his fall. She healed these first, pouring her own energy and Ori’s into Pensould’s body. Once his body was once again whole, she turned her attention to the mind currently in slumber.
He must have been waiting for her, somewhere in his deep sleep, for she felt a presence there right away. His soul was close, eager to return, and it took little effort to set the process in motion. The spark of his consciousness roared to triumphant life, and renewed life-force raced through his body, healing and reactivating the organs that had lain idle. She knew from experience that this process took some hours, but it felt like no time at all before Pensould came around, pushed himself shakily to his feet and lifted his head. His blue-green scales twinkled in the sun, his thick hide restored to shining health and his old vigour quickly returning to his strengthening limbs.
Llan and Ori stood back, waiting anxiously for a sign that Pensould was fully himself again. The world tipped, and Llandry realised she had fallen into a sitting position.
‘Careful,’ Ori said laughingly, hauling her upright again.
I see you still need to learn when to stop, Minchu.
Llandry could have wept to hear that familiar voice, with all Pensould’s wry, teasingly chiding manner. His draykon-shape wavered and vanished and then he stood in his human shape, smiling at her. His dark hair and too-pale skin glowed with restored health, and his eyes smiled down at her, full of affection.
Hastily stuffing Sigwide into Ori’s hands, she ran at Pensould and hurled herself into his arms.
‘I do wish you would stop dying,’ she muttered into his chest.
Pensould hugged her hard enough to hurt, but she didn’t care. ‘Why, Minchu, this is the first of my deaths since we have met.’
She shook her head, sending tears flying. ‘Not true. You were dead when I first knew you.’
‘Not that that sounds weird,’ Ori observed from a few feet away.
‘Accepted,’ she smiled. After that she devoted herself to the pleasant pastime of being kissed, a process which proceeded apace.
‘I missed you,’ she said at length. ‘Even though you lecture me more often than not.’
‘Well, good,’ Pensould said pragmatically. ‘I would be disappointed if you hadn’t.’
‘Oh, are we done?’ Ori said, turning around. ‘Excellent, because I too would like to say “hello” to Pense. Though I hope he won’t kiss me.’
Pensould grinned and shook hands with Ori heartily. ‘Will that be a suitable alternative?’
‘Perfectly,’ Ori gasped, flexing his hand. ‘Though for future reference, it isn’t necessary to grip quite so hard.’
Pensould stood in silence for a moment, surveying the sky. ‘I take it from the reassuring quiet that the battle is over?’
‘Yes, quite finished,’ Llandry said with a smile.
‘And I take it from your continued existence - and mine - that the city was victorious?’
‘Let’s go find Papa,’ Llandry said, tucking her arm through Pensould’s, ‘and we will talk it all over.’
This pleasant conversation was cut short when a summons came from Commander Iver. Llandry, Ori and Pensould were called to talk with Eterna.
They departed at once, Llandry suffering some feelings of unease. Eterna was dangerous; would it be possible to keep her under control? But she must trust Iver. He had never yet made a serious error, to her knowledge.
But when they arrived, Llandry could see no sign of Eterna at all. The same six draykoni remained under restraint, still watched by four or five times the number of soldiers. Llandry turned in circles, hoping to see the draykoni leader somewhere nearby. Was it possible that she had escaped?
When she turned to Pensould, she found that he had not moved. He was looking intently in the direction of the Commander’s makeshift office, a frown creasing his brow. Following the direction of his gaze, Llandry saw Commander Iver, a man she recognised as his second-in-command and an unfamiliar female.
Orlind Page 28
