Draykon

by Charlotte E. English

  The technique might work with Sigwide, but this beast shrugged off her interference. Recognising Devary as the greater threat, it turned on him and leaped.

  'Wait, please,' Llandry gasped. Devary dropped his daggers and wrestled with the thing, holding its jaws away from his face by sheer strength of muscle.

  'You might... hurry, with whatever you are doing,' he panted.

  Cajoling wasn't working: the beast was too enraged. Collecting herself, Llandry matched aggression with aggression and bore down with a fierce will, forcing it to obey. To her immense relief, it gradually ceased its attempts to swallow Devary's face and slowed. She felt the shift in its mind, from viewing her as a threat to seeing her as its master.

  Tentatively, Devary loosened his grip, his muscles still tense and ready to fight. When the animal didn't react he surged to his feet, collecting one of his daggers as a precaution.

  'Can you open a gate?' Llandry's words were strained; the unaccustomed effort of holding the beast to her will was tiring her fast.

  'Yes, it will take... a moment.'

  'Faster would be better.'

  'Cannot be helped,' he murmured. While he worked, Llandry turned her thoughts back to her temporary captive. She had no wish to exacerbate its terror, so she adjusted her ideas, trying to meld the force of her command with the security she'd tried to give it before. Her untrained attempts were clumsy, and she came close to losing her grip on it altogether.

  The gate appeared, a ripple in the air. It grew steadily more solid, until Llandry could see the little slice of the Uppers to which it was connected. Distracting, that vision: vivid colour and golden sunlight, and a hint of a rich aroma that teased at her senses.

  'Llandry?' Devary prompted.

  'I... yes.' Llandry refocused, shoving the beast towards the gate. In her anxiety she had probably overdone the command: the poor creature shot forward and straight into the gate. Devary grimaced and the gate faded gradually, too slowly for Llandry's frayed mind. At last it disappeared and the balcony grew still and quiet once more.

  'Quite good,' Devary said at last. His hair had come down out of its ponytail, but other than that he looked remarkably unperturbed. Llandry was too muddled and disturbed to answer. Feeling the warning buzzing in her limbs and tightness in her chest, she bolted from the room before she could humiliate herself by suffering a bout of panic in front of her mother's friend.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Eva arrived at Vale's office, she found Tren waiting.

  'Mr. Warvel,' she said coolly, wondering what he was doing there.

  'Lady Glostrum.' He looked up, smiling. 'What brings you here?'

  'I was going to ask you the same. Surely you aren't...?'

  'Aren't what?'

  'Did Lord Angstrun send you? For Vale's job?'

  'No,' he said slowly. 'I come here every moonrise to admire the view.' He looked at the cluttered office, covered with Vale's maps and papers.

  'Oh,' she said, feeling suddenly very weary. She sat down in Vale's chair, surveying Tren as he stood near the doorway. Youthful: that was the primary impression she gathered of him. Young, and with an air of optimism that suggested a lack of experience. 'You'd better be here because you're his best.'

  'I am,' he said. 'Thank you.'

  She lifted her brows. 'At... what was it? Twenty-three?'

  'Twenty-five. How old were you when they made you High Summoner?'

  'Older than that.'

  'Not by very much.'

  Eva sat back, huddling into her coat. 'If you read the papers, you'll know that I was the beneficiary of some revolting elitism and probably a dash of nepotism as well. What's your excuse?'

  Tren laughed. 'Or you were the best candidate for the job. It depends on the point of view.'

  'Oh?' She surveyed him, trying to read his expression. 'To which interpretation do you subscribe?'

  'I haven't decided yet.'

  The door opened, revealing Chief Investigator Vale with an armful of papers. He looked startled to find his office occupied.

  'Am I late, or are you two peculiarly eager?'

  Tren checked his watch. 'The latter, it appears.'

  Vale looked at Tren. 'No sign of Fin, I suppose?'

  'Not yet.'

  Vale dropped his papers on the desk. The stack landed with a thud that shook the furniture. Eva lifted an ironic brow at him.

  'I need three secretaries to keep on top of all of this,' Vale grinned. He picked up Eva's hand, his smile fading. 'There's talk of more activity from the Lowers. More gates, more beasts. I suppose it's no use asking you to reconsider?'

  'None whatsoever.

  He sighed. 'I didn't think so.'

  'We won't be gone long, Eyde, and I don't anticipate encountering anything that Tren and I will not be able to deal with.'

  He eyed her sceptically. 'You don't, hm?'

  She smiled encouragingly, trying to impart some of her own sense of confidence to him. He grunted and looked away.

  'Here,' he said, handing her a freshly-printed daily newspaper. The headline read: Missing sorcerer suspected of Night Cloak crime. A picture of Edwae Geslin was printed below: a young man with dishevelled hair, rather plain features and a hesitant smile. The overall impression Eva received was one of mildness, even blandness. She frowned.

  'He doesn't look like the type.'

  'He isn't.' Tren took the paper from her, reading it with a gathering frown.

  'Do you know him?' said Eva.

  'We're close friends,' said Tren, tossing the paper aside in disgust. 'I can't think of any reason why Ed would do such a thing.'

  Vale spoke up. 'Did he tell you he was leaving?'

  'No.'

  'Has he said, or done, anything recently that struck you as out of character?'

  Tren thought. 'He seemed anxious lately, but he's often worried about money. I didn't think it out of the ordinary.'

  'Why does he worry about money?'

  'His mother's a widow and he has younger siblings. He sends most of his earnings to her.'

  'Good,' murmured Vale. 'Where does the mother live?'

  'Orstwych.'

  'Clear motive,' said a new voice. Eva glanced up, startled. The door had opened so quietly she hadn't noticed. Another man stood behind Vale, dressed for travelling. He surveyed the office expressionlessly, then softly shut the door.

  'Ah, Fin,' said Vale. 'Sit down.' The man took the seat nearest to the exit, without looking at anyone.

  'This is Finshay Arrerly,' said Vale. 'My agent in this business. Fin, you already know Tren. The lady is Evastany Glostrum, High Summoner.'

  Finshay turned cold grey eyes on her. She returned his stare coolly, assessing him rapidly. She detected more than a hint of arrogance in his manner.

  'You're sending your fiancee with us.' Finshay's voice was chill and quiet.

  'She's the best person for this job,' said Vale. Eva raised her brows, surprised at his change of attitude. He'd been trying to talk her out of it ever since she suggested it.

  'Oh?' said Finshay. 'A noble and a bureaucrat?'

  'She's a fine working summoner,' said Vale, a hint of steel creeping into his tone. 'She's one of the strongest in Glour, and besides she's in possession of some useful tools for this task.'

  'Such as?'

  'A shortig hound, and a gwaystrel.'

  That seemed to silence Finshay, at least for a brief time. He cast another glance at her, only slightly less contemptuous than before, and subsided.

  'Sir,' said Tren, tentatively.

  'Don't tell me you're going to object too, Tren.'

  Tren shifted uncomfortably. 'Not exactly, sir, but I'd prefer to be excused from this mission.'

  'Your reasons being what.'

  'Ed's a close friend, sir. I don't feel right about tracking him down like this.'

  'I'm sorry, but that's exactly why I need you to be involved. You know him better than anyone else; that knowledge may prove invaluable.' Tren opened his mouth to
object but Vale cut him off. 'You know it will go much easier for Geslin if he's brought in for civilised questioning.'

  Instead of what? Eva wondered uneasily. She pictured again that mild young face and shivered slightly.

  Tren bowed his head, but made no further objections.

  'Gentlemen,' said Vale in a steely tone. 'I can do without this quibbling. You're all involved for good reasons and the matter is non-negotiable. Work together and you'll find Geslin quickly. I suggest you make your peace with the job and get it done.'

  'Of course, sir,' said Tren. Finshay nodded coldly. Eva just watched.

  Vale exhaled slowly. 'Good. Fin, what were you saying about motive.'

  Finshay shrugged indifferently. 'Most people will do just about anything if they're stuck for cash.' Tren looked as if he wanted to argue, but he glanced at Vale and thought better of it.

  Vale nodded. 'It's a fair point. You should talk with the mother, see if she knows anything. Maybe you'll find Geslin there.'

  'Doubt he'd be stupid enough to hide somewhere so obvious,' said Fin.

  'Maybe, maybe not. Check it out anyway. Any other leads?'

  'None,' said Fin. 'He's a bloody Master Sorcerer, isn't he? He'll be stealthed up to the eyeballs.'

  'Then it's lucky you have the services of a summoner with a tracker dog and a gwaystrel,' said Vale pointedly. Fin rolled his eyes.

  'Tren. Any thoughts on where your friend Geslin would go?'

  Tren looked troubled. He opened his mouth and closed it again, then shook his head.

  Vale looked hard at him. 'Think on it well, Tren,' he said easily, but with a cold glint in his blue eyes. 'I've no doubt you'll think of something.'

  Tren nodded. He looked miserable, and Eva felt a pang of sympathy for him.

  'Lady Glostrum,' said Vale, turning to her. 'Am I right in thinking that the shortig will follow the man's scent, even if he tries to disguise it?'

  'As far as we know, yes,' she replied. 'The shortigs seem to be immune to the known methods of disguise there. Either that or they're clever enough to see past them.'

  'Good,' said Vale. 'And the gwaystrel will see through any disguise he adopts. Between the two, you've a fair chance of catching him.'

  'The gwaystrel's that good?' Finshay's question dripped scepticism.

  Eva turned a cold stare on him. 'Gwaystrels aren't fooled by sorcerer stealth tricks because they don't use their eyes. They're all but blind, in fact. They recognise people by sound, smell, patterns of movement - all the things that are harder, maybe impossible, to conceal or change. Geslin can cloak himself any way he likes, but Rikbeek will be looking for the things he can't easily manipulate.'

  'How will he know what to look for?'

  'I was hoping Tren could help with that.'

  Vale looked inquiringly at the sorcerer. Tren slouched a little further into his chair, but he nodded.

  'I can build a walking image of Ed as I remember him. It'll move, sound, probably even smell like him. I can only keep it up for a couple of minutes, but hopefully that'll be enough.'

  'Probably,' said Eva. 'He learns fast.'

  Vale nodded approvingly. 'Fin, go dig up everything you can find on Geslin. The usual procedure, please.' Fin deigned to answer the order with a nod.

  'Right, get on with it,' said Vale. 'I want you all home as soon as possible.' He was looking at Eva as he said it.

  ***

  Ed Geslin's house was on the twenty-seventh circle, right on the edges of the city. It was an underground dwelling, obviously cheap lodgings. He had three rooms carved through a series of great irignol roots. They were neatly kept, and virtually bare of furniture or possessions.

  Eva wandered through the house with her shortig hound padding along softly behind her. The little dog thrust its sizeable nose into every object it encountered. Eva hoped it was gaining enough of a scent to track Geslin.

  'Do you suppose he cleaned out his house before he left?' Eva asked Tren.

  'No. Or, probably not. Ed never seemed to have much need for ordinary things. His house has been like this ever since I've known him.'

  'Unusual.' Eva slid open a series of drawers that were fitted into a wall. They were all empty. 'Maybe he couldn't afford much.'

  'That's a possibility,' said Tren. 'The position of aide to Lord Angstrun is well-paid, but he was sending as much as he could afford to his family every moon.'

  Eva stepped through a low door into a small parlour. It was furnished with nothing but a pair of chairs and a bookcase, devoid of books. Finshay was sitting comfortably on the sofa.

  'Slow getting here,' he remarked.

  'Sorry,' said Tren.

  Finshay grunted. Ignoring Eva, he said to Tren: 'Better pick up the pace, Warvel. The trail's already days old.'

  Tren looked irritated. He turned his back on Finshay without replying, and began searching through the lone cupboard in the room, opening doors and drawers. Eva joined the search, rather surprised to find that there were items remaining in this piece of furniture. She collected a well-read book, a comb and sparse items of clothing. She laid them out for the shortig, then glanced back at Tren.

  'I got the impression you've worked with the Chief Investigator before,' she said. 'I thought you were part of Angstrun's crowd?'

  'I am, but there's always a sorc or two attached to the Investigator's Office. That includes me, just now. I assist with investigating infractions of the sorcery laws.'

  'Should've got someone else for this one,' said Finshay. 'Geslin's best friend is going to aid in his capture, is he? Vale's judgement's off.'

  'Ed had nothing to do with most of it,' said Tren firmly. 'Murder, theft? He didn't do those things. I'm sure of it. He ought to be here to defend himself. Besides, the Chief Investigator is right: he must have some information.'

  Fin said nothing. Tren laid out two or three more items on the floor for the shortig to sort through. Eva and the two men watched with interest as the tiny black hound cast through the assembled objects with his sensitive nose, turning each one around several times with his paws and snout.

  'You do your job, Fin?' said Tren after a moment.

  'Of course.'

  'What did you find?'

  'He went to Orstwych.'

  'You're sure about that?'

  'Pretty much.'

  'How?'

  Finshay stared back at Tren, making no reply.

  'Come on, Fin,' said Tren. 'We all need as much information as possible.'

  'Fine. Geslin's sent a parcel out to Orstwych just after the full moon, every moon, for the past two years. Hasn't missed a single one, until last moon. Full moon last occurred about three weeks ago, meaning Ed's parcel was due roughly two weeks ago. Why didn't he send it?'

  'He had nothing to send?'

  'Idiot. He didn't send anything because he was planning to go in person. Means he planned to leave ahead of time. May mean he was carrying something he didn't want to entrust to the mail.'

  'That's logical enough,' conceded Tren.

  'Not that we'll find him at home with mother,' continued Finshay. 'Nobody's that bloody stupid. Should be able to pick up his trail from there, though.'

  'I wonder if it was just the money he was sending,' mused Eva. Finshay cast her an irritated glance. She understood: she was supposed to stick to the business of tracking, while he took care of the deduction. Her lips twitched in amusement.

  The shortig sat down on its haunches at Eva's feet and gazed up at her, still and alert, its long ears forward.

  'The hound's ready,' she said.

  'All right, pack up,' said Fin. 'Leaving in two hours, from the east gate. Don't be late.' He strode away without looking back.

  'I do believe we have a self-elected leader,' murmured Eva.

  'Fin's like that,' said Tren. 'He can be difficult to work with, but he's good at what he does.'

  'I daresay. Now, what of that image you spoke of?'

  'Ah. Yes. Do you have the gwaystrel here?'


  Eva opened her cloak to reveal Rikbeek in his usual spot, tucked into her collar.

  'Interesting travel arrangements,' said Tren with a small grin. 'What does he need in order to get the 'scent', so to speak?'

  'Only to observe,' she said. 'Honestly I don't know exactly what it is he does, but a few minutes' observation seems to be sufficient.'

  Tren nodded briskly. 'Tell me when he's seen enough.'

  He closed his eyes and stood in deep concentration for several long minutes. Then his eyes opened. Where he looked, a shape began to form, slowly solidifying into a human figure.

  A young man stood with his hands in the pockets of his shabby green coat. He was laughing, apparently at a joke. He began to talk in a rather slow, considered way, shaking his mousy-brown hair out of his eyes. His mouth moved but whatever he was saying was barely audible, as if he was speaking from a long distance away.

  Eva released Rikbeek, directing his attention towards the figure of Edwae Geslin. The gwaystrel flew in circles around the image, darting in and out. It emitted a stream of sounds, some of which were only just within Eva's range of hearing.

  'Can you make him walk, Tren?' The sorcerer closed his eyes again, conjuring a new image; now Geslin began to stride, apparently towards Eva, though his feet made no progress on the ground. He walked in place for a few minutes as Rikbeek dived and spun. Then the gwaystrel returned to his station inside Eva's cloak and firmly snapped his wings shut around himself. Eva caught an echo of the gwaystrel's thoughts. He was thinking about food.

  'Apparently he's finished,' said Eva. Tren smiled, a little wanly. He looked sadly back at the figure of Geslin, still striding on the spot. Geslin vanished. Tren stood silently for a long moment, his hands stuffed into his pockets in a gesture similar to his friend's. At length Eva felt obliged to speak.

  'How long have you two been friends?'

  Tren answered without looking at her. 'We trained together. We were both naturally strong sorcs, and there was competition between us at one time. But Lord Angstrun took us both as aides. We became like brothers after a while.' He looked at Eva then, but abstractedly, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. 'I don't know why he would do it,' he said at last. 'Ed didn't grow up here, but he would never betray Glour. Or Angstrun.'