He complied. It was as though he tore a hole in the night; moonlight leaked through from somewhere else, chilly and too bright and etched with metallic blue. A cold wind blew through the portal, raising the hairs on Eva's arms. She gritted her teeth, bearing down ferociously on the whurthag, willing it to step in the direction of the gate.
It didn't move.
'Roys...'
Roys tightened her grip, gasping with the effort. Eva had bitten her lip; blood trickled down her chin, tasting sharp in her mouth. The whurthag bunched its muscles and tried to leap in her direction. Fighting panic - why in the Seven would anyone willingly summon such a creature?! - she fought hard, streaming images of danger and peril into the mind of the whurthag. Feeling it falter, she followed that with impressions of safety beyond the gate, the comfort of the home den. It's probably not remotely susceptible to such things, she thought desperately, but then the whurthag weakened, gave up the fight. Inch by inch she and Roys forced it towards Tren's gate. It stalked through, and the gate closed around it, silently swallowing the whurthag's night-black form.
Eva stood motionless for a long time, breathing hard. She felt completely drained, and still rather terrified. She'd never known a fight like that to control any beast, and she was one of the strongest of the summoners.
Roys recovered first. She blinked as if waking up, moved about stiffly. 'Tricky,' she said laconically, bending over her injured leg. The flesh was striped with scratches but they bled only sluggishly. 'It's not deep,' Roys confirmed, waving Eva away.
'You were lucky,' Eva said, remembering the ferocious sweep of the whurthag's claws. She looked at Tren. He too was looking pale and shaken. She wondered whether it was the effort of holding the gate open that had tired him out, or the strain of being far too close to an only barely restrained whurthag.
'All well?' she asked him.
He nodded, smiled wryly. 'You ladies clearly had the hard work. I'm fine.'
'Good work, ladies,' said one of the guards. 'We'd better check for its handler. We'll stay close.' Eva nodded and the two of them melted into the trees, weapons drawn.
Eva tilted her head to one side, wincing at a sharp pain in her neck. How tense she must've been. How long had the job taken? The moon was still strong overhead, but it could easily have been an hour. Eva sat carefully in the grass while the guards were gone, welcoming a chance at a brief rest before the ride home.
The search didn't take long. The guards soon returned, weapons sheathed.
'No sign of any handlers,' said the talkative one - Havely, Eva recalled. She had never caught the other guard's name, and he hadn't spoken a word throughout their journey.
No handler was chilling news. It suggested that the whurthag had already broken free of its master summoner's control. They had caught it barely in time. She shivered.
'We'd better go back and call the others in,' she said. They collected the nivvens and mounted up, all three shaky and exhausted. The ride back to Glour City was slow.
Three of the teams were already assembled when they arrived back at Summoner House. Eva frowned. They should have continued the search until the whurthag was confirmed as found - or until the search was called off. Why were they here?
'We found and banished the whurthag,' she said, dismounting with none of her usual easy grace. 'It's gone.'
'So did we,' said Alys Spirin, one of her foremost summoners.
'And so did we,' said another.
'We all did.'
Eva blinked, confused. 'What.'
'There was only supposed to be one,' said Roys.
'Apparently not,' said Alys. 'The count's up to four so far. No idea yet what the other teams have found.'
Eva's heart sank. 'All banished?'
'Yes.'
Eva nodded, her eyes threatening to close with weariness. The other summoners were in little better shape; several sat with their heads in their hands, others were actually lying on the floor.
'Any losses?'
'None,' said Alys, 'but a few injuries. Trace is in the worst shape. He's at the medical halls now.'
Eva nodded again, feeling deeply thankful. 'Right, well. If there were four, there could be any number still at large. The search isn't over.'
'There's one other thing.' One of Angstrun's sorcerers stepped forward, a man with hair as pale as Eva's own.
'Yes?'
'We found three rogue gates out in the forest.'
Tren looked round at that. 'Three rogue gates open at once?'
The sorcerer nodded, his face grim. 'Maybe more.'
'That's unheard of.'
Eva was shocked, too. Rogue gates were a problem no one had yet managed to solve; they opened and closed apparently according to their own rules. The only way to deal with them was to close them as quickly as possible when they were found. Part of Angstrun's job was to organise regular patrols of the city and forest by sorcerers who could close them up quickly and efficiently.
But they were relatively rare. Barely one rogue gate was discovered per moon. Three in one day?
She passed her hands over her face, rubbing her tired eyes. 'I can see it's going to be a long day.'
***
Eva and her summoners worked past moonset and well beyond, relentlessly searching the forests of Glour until they were, to all appearances, empty of further dangers. The total number of whurthags discovered rose to seven. Each one was found at a distance from the city precincts, crouched in the shadows as if awaiting something. Eva found it remarkable that they had not attacked the city again. Why were these here?
More rogue gates had been found, and closed. One further report had troubled Eva: one of her teams claimed to have found an unusual type of reptile in swampy northern Glour. With blue scales, long snout and horns, it was no species commonly seen in the marshes. It had probably come through one of the rogue gates, but Eva wondered.
When she was at last free to retire to her home, it was nearly moonset. She slept the long, deep, dreamless sleep of the exhausted, waking at last long after moonrise on the following day. She cursed when she realised the time, expecting to find a heap of messages urgently requiring her attention. In fact, there were only two: one from her second-in-command confirming that no further whurthag sightings had been recorded, and one from Vale, announcing his intention to visit around moonset.
He arrived a little early, looking almost as tired as Eva had been. She ordered dinner and had some cayluch sent in, thinking he looked in need of a hot drink. He sank into the sofa beside her, cupping his hands around the mug.
'What's the news?' Eva allowed herself to lean against his shoulder, unusually grateful for the company.
He sighed deeply. 'There've been some jewellery thefts in Orstwych, and one death. All sounds far too similar. I sent a couple of the boys out there for more details. Word is Glinnery's having some trouble, too.'
'Same kind?'
'More or less. A civilian injury, probably whurthag inflicted, but no deaths yet. I've sent enquiries about any jewellery thefts going on.'
A chilling thought occurred to Eva. 'Civilian injuries? Who?'
'I don't have any names yet.'
Eva had sent a warning to Ynara Sanfaer at her first opportunity. She hoped her friend had received the note in time to act on it. If all of this chaos was over the istore, then her daughter was in more danger than anyone. She shifted restlessly, wishing there was some way she could find out.
'Anything from Irbel? Nimdre?'
'Working on it.' He smiled tiredly at her, and she smiled back.
'Sorry.'
Vale's smiled faded. 'I saw Angstrun earlier. He's out for blood. You heard about the Night Cloak?'
'Mm. I was at the Guardian's Office when the news came. He wasn't happy.'
'I imagine not.'
'Does he know who did it?'
'Think so. He said one of his men's missing. Wants my help tracking him down.' Vale sighed. 'We'll deal with it, of course, but I don't know how. I've already sent most of
my best men out picking up leads all over the Darklands, and I've called in my contacts in the Daylands too. We're a bit short-handed to be sending out man hunts.'
Eva allowed her head to rest on Vale's broad shoulder. 'I know the problem. I've got to keep teams of summoners out on patrol for the foreseeable future. They need to be in groups of at least two, preferably three, to deal with the whurthags safely. The guild's stretched thin already. And we're leeching sorcerers out of Angstrun's forces to pull the gates open.'
She felt Vale turn his head to look down at her. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
'I wonder if it's significant that these events are taking all of Glour's best out of the city and scattering them to the winds,' said Eva. 'I fear it must be.'
'Possible.'
'I mean, those whurthags weren't out for anyone in particular. They were just standing there.' A new idea occurred to her and she sat up slightly. 'Eyde. If we marked on a map where all the whurthags were found, I wonder if we would find a pattern.'
'I'm surprised you haven't done that already.'
She sighed. 'Sorry, Eyde. I was so tired yesterday I could barely remember my own name. I'll get to it first thing after moonrise tomorrow.'
He placed a kiss on the top of her head. 'Don't blame yourself, Eva my darling. It's been a long week for all of us.'
'Not much of an excuse, that,' she said absently. Her thoughts were busy, drawing links and mapping connections. 'Has Angstrun pulled the Night Cloak back yet?'
'No. He said there's a delegation on the way from Glinnery, and they want the changes explored before it's rectified. Seems they've got a theory they want testing.'
'Oh?'
'Something to do with the istore, unsurprisingly.'
'Mm,' said Eva. 'Not at all surprising.' She remembered the little Sanfaer girl's words back at the Darklands Market. There is a cave, near to where I live. It's in the walls. Eva wondered whether the Sanfaer family happened to live near the border to Glour.
Vale was silent for several minutes. She rested comfortably against him, reflecting that married life might not be so bad if it included such companionableness.
As if reading her mind, Vale looked down at her and smiled. 'I fear our marriage plans will have to wait a little, in the midst of this mess. I'm sorry for that.' She said nothing. He squeezed her waist slightly, kissing the top of her head again. 'Aren't you?'
'Yes,' she replied.
Chapter Nine
Llandry swung her legs out of bed and stood up, gingerly. Her legs trembled, but she didn't fall. She moved her arm carefully, gently working the muscles. Days of her mother's diligent care had considerably lessened the pain, and she felt herself to be healing. She still felt weak and shaky, but that was due to inactivity as much as injury. It was high time she left her bed.
She took a few steps, smiling when she didn't topple. Sigwide sat on his haunches, watching as she pulled a woollen shawl around her shoulders. He was overwhelmed with excitement when she moved towards the door; he raced around her feet and then darted on ahead of her, making his way unerringly to the kitchen. Obviously he'd been making himself at home while she slept.
'Ah, Siggy.' She felt a surge of affection for her friend. He had barely left her side during her confinement to her room. Whenever she had woken, she'd found him curled up on her stomach or tucked against her side, purring at any sign of life from her. If she was immobile, he would be immobile too. It was comforting to be the object of such unconditional devotion.
Her pleasant feelings evaporated as she reached the kitchen door and heard two male voices inside. The dark, gruff voice was her father's. The other was Devary Kant. She froze. She had assumed he would have left by now.
Peeking into the kitchen, she saw Devary sitting in one of the dining chairs with a large book spread across his lap. She hung back in the doorway, studying him covertly from the safety of the shadows.
He wasn't a young man precisely, but he didn't look very old either. Perhaps he was about her mother's age, just entering his forties. His skin was a little weathered, as if he travelled a great deal. He said he was from Nimdre, and his accent seemed to confirm it, but his complexion was as pale as any Darklander's. He wore his longish brown hair tied into a tail. She noticed smudges of ink on his face; as she watched he absently brushed back an errant lock of hair, transferring more coloured inks from his fingers onto his temples.
Ynara wasn't visible, but her voice could be heard speaking.
'...timing is interesting, Dev. Twenty years without a word from you, and then you turn up, all of a sudden, in the middle of an inter-realm crisis?' Devary started to say something but she cut him off. 'I don't care to hear your tales again. You can't expect me to believe this is just a social visit.'
'But it is,' said Devary. 'Wait a minute, let me explain.' He sighed and closed his book. 'I admit my arrival at this time is no accident. I was sent, yes. But when I said I was retired, I spoke the truth.' Ynara snorted derisively but he ignored her. 'My employers have refused to accept my resignation from duty. They required somebody to visit this household and discover the truth about this istore stone. I believe their motives are above board, as far as that counts for anything. If I had not accepted the assignment, they would have sent someone else - someone less sympathetic to your family. And, Ynara...' He leaned forward, his expression growing earnest. 'This is a social visit. I've wanted to come back, for years I've thought about it. This merely gave me a reason to overcome my fears of seeing you again. I don't know if you'll forgive me, but I want to make it up to you. I do. Just tell me. Anything I can do for you or your family, I'll do it. Anything.'
Llandry felt curiosity and discomfort in equal measures. As interesting as this was, she shouldn't be eavesdropping. She backed away from the door, meaning to return to her room and await her mother's visit, but Sigwide had grown tired of waiting for her. He ran heedlessly ahead and nudged open the door with his nose. His thoughts were full of food - as usual - and he sent her an excited image of a bowl brimming with fruits and nuts. Before she could prevent him, he had darted into the kitchen.
Devary had seemingly learned that where there was Sigwide there was generally Llandry, too. His sharp hazel eyes followed the orting's casual progress across the kitchen floor, then travelled to the doorway where she stood. He smiled, looking remarkably at ease for a man with ink all over his face.
'Hello,' he said. 'Welcome back to the living world. Your mother hoped you'd be up today.'
Llandry reflexively drew her shawl closer around herself, avoiding his gaze. She went to her father and leaned against his side, pressing her face into his shaggy blond hair. He didn't say anything, which she appreciated; he merely wrapped one muscular arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
A muffled squeak caught her attention. Sigwide stood beside his empty bowl, his small body quivering with indignation. He squeaked again as she looked at him, and she recognised the sound as his polite, apologetic interruption. She grinned in spite of herself, bending to refill his supplies. The wounds on her back pulled and she bit back a cry, bending at the knees instead. When Llandry straightened, she immediately found herself wrapped in a tight hug, her mother's distinctive scent enveloping her.
'Llandry, love. How are you feeling?' Ynara lightly investigated her wounds, turning her around to check the damage to her back. Llandry winced slightly, feeling the skin pull against the half-knit wounds.
'Quite a lot better, Ma. I've a sense I may live after all.'
She heard a chuckle from behind her. Probably Devary. She turned back into her mother's embrace, hiding her face against her shoulder.
Her father spoke. 'Llandry, you were right about the border.'
Llandry looked up quickly. 'Oh?'
Aysun cleared his throat and nodded. 'The border's moved, all down the south-east side of the forest. Some places only twenty feet or so. Others, more like eighty.'
'How? Why?'
'Hard to say,'
said Aysun gruffly. 'Elders are working on it.'
'Also. I don't suppose you heard the news from Glour before you went haring off to that precious cave of yours, hm?' Ynara's tone had taken on that disapproving quality that Llandry so dreaded, but she couldn't blame her mother for being annoyed.
'What news?' was all she said.
Ynara tutted. 'I didn't think so. I'm glad, though, or I'd have to have you certified as insane.' She guided Llandry to a chair and gently pressed her into it. 'That beast you saw - black, pale eyes, and so on - has been sighted in Glour, too. Not just sighted. Three people were killed, all of them former customers of yours.' She fixed Llandry with a hard stare. 'All carrying istore around, Llan, and stripped of it after they were dead. The connection is obvious. There's little doubt it all has a lot to do with that cave of yours. It's southeast of the city, isn't it, near the Glour border?'
Llandry nodded, her throat too dry to speak. Three people dead? Because of her jewellery?
Aysun grimaced. 'That's it, then. The Night Cloak was moved in order to absorb that cave into Darklands territory. No saying why, just yet, but you must stay well away from it from now on, Llan.'
'Promise, Llandry, please,' said Ynara.
'No fear of that,' said Llandry faintly. 'I've no wish to die by death claw.' She felt numb. Her injuries might be severe but she had been lucky indeed to avoid a far worse fate. Probably it was only her wings that had saved her; her chances of outrunning a beast that moved with such horrifying speed were minimal.
'Does... has anybody identified it?'
'The word "whurthag" is being thrown around,' said Ynara. 'That's what the papers are saying. Sensational stuff, scare stories, the usual. It might not be true. The bulletins haven't backed it up yet.'
Llandry nodded. The papers were mostly independent, and they reported whatever they pleased - the more sensational the better. The bulletin boards, on the other hand, operated via Irbellian technologies licensed by the Glinnery government, and their content was carefully screened. Many people waited for the bulletins to pick up a story before they would give it any credence.
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