Draykon (25 page)

Nonetheless...

'Tren, please.
You don't - you
can't
- understand about the Lowers if you
haven't spent any real time there. Even trained, experienced
summoners are at risk down there alone. Even
me
.'

'It can't be
helped. I'm hardly defenceless; I'll manage somehow.'

'What are you
going to do if you find him, hm? Ed's as powerful as you are and
look
what became of that!' She was growing angry, frustrated
with her inability to influence him.

'I have to
go.'

'You don't have
to. You've a duty to report to Vale, to see that Ed's family are
told-'

'Don't you see?
Ed thought this was important enough to risk his life for it. He
needed to do it. If I want to be the friend I ought to be, I'll
finish this for him.' He stood up and began collecting his things,
resolute. 'You'll see that Ed's remains are taken home to Orstwych?
Tell Vale everything. Speak to the family, if you can - they'll
remember you.' He paused to give her a lopsided smile. 'If you get
time, send somebody after me. If I get in trouble, maybe they'll
find me.'

She stood up,
too. 'Tren, wait. Please. This is crazy.' She felt real fear
growing, threatening to choke her. The prospect of another lively
young man disappearing into the Lowers on an ill-advised pursuit of
the man who casually controlled two whurthags... picturing Tren's
face striped with wounds, covered in his own blood as Ed and Meesa
had been, her stomach turned.

'I'm going with
you.'

He stopped,
shocked. 'What?'

'You heard me.'
She lifted her chin and stared him down. 'Don't argue.'

'You recall
everything you just said to me, I suppose.'

'With perfect
clarity. The two of us will manage better than you will
alone.'

'Why would you do
this?'

'I've as good a
reason as you,' she reminded him. 'Besides, you're right. Something
ought to be done now, not in a week or two weeks or however long it
takes Glour government to get organised.'

'That's not what
you said a moment ago.'

'That was when
you were insisting on going alone.'

'I still
am!'

'No, you're not.
You need my summoner skills. What are
you
going to do when
you meet a whurthag face-to-face, hm?'

'Fight it, I
suppose.'

'That having
worked so beautifully for Edwae.'

He changed tack.
'Look, I need to know someone is taking care of Ed and his family.
Finshay isn't equipped for that job.'

'Like you said,
this is more important.'

He stared at her,
helpless. 'Why are you so determined about this?'

'I don't want you
to go alone.'

He blinked at
her.

'I wouldn't want
anyone
to attempt such a thing alone, Tren! It's
unthinkable.'

Finshay's voice
broke in on the altercation. 'If you've made a decision, perhaps
you could get on with it. Time's moving on.' He rose to his feet
and approached Eva, taking the notebook out of her hands. He
examined it critically, then ripped a few pages out.

'Legible. Good.'
He handed the book back to her with a nod. 'I'll deal with the boy,
the family, the government, the notes and all the dull stuff. You
two go get yourselves killed. Have fun.' He turned his back on
them, stowing the pages in his pack.

Tren snorted.
'Thanks.'

'No problem. I'll
tell Vale you both sent your regards.'

Tren looked at
Eva. 'Last chance to change your mind.'

'Right after you
do.'

He grinned, for
the first time that day. 'Onward then, comrade.'

Eva's belongings
were soon gathered. Tren paused long enough to pay a final goodbye
to his friend. Eva heard him whisper something, though she couldn't
make out the words and she didn't try. Moments later, he joined her
before the gate.

'Ready?'

Eva nodded.
'Go.'

He shouldered his
bag and stepped forward. His form rippled and shivered like wind
through the grass, and then he vanished.

Eva took a breath
and stepped in after him. The gate closed in around her, squeezing
the air in her lungs and beating hard upon her skin. Then she was
through into the cool, sharp air of the Lower Realms.

Chapter Seventeen

Llandry followed
Devary's party south and east through the thickly-growing,
sun-warmed woodlands of Glinnery. They were angling towards the
major coach road that ran between southernmost Glinnery and Nimdre.
The woods had been swept by the summoners and there was little out
of the ordinary to be encountered. As they wended further south,
the landscape grew more open and expansive, the towering glissenwol
thinning and dwindling away into lesser monoliths only twice
Devary's height. Their colours changed gradually, from the blues,
purples and greens of northern and eastern Glinnery into a vibrant
range of reds, yellows and oranges. Llandry had travelled southwest
into Irbel or east into Glour, but these sights were less familiar
to her. They were beautiful, but there was something saddening
about the decreasing height and grandeur of the proud glissenwol
caps. It suggested a fading of strength and health.

Her journey was
arduous, and for a few brief moments she had even regretted her
decision to go after Devary. Travelling on the wing, she was
obliged to fly high in order to avoid being spotted by Devary's
airborne escort of armed guards. They, too, were hanging back,
taking care not to draw undue attention to Devary. He had to look
like an ordinary traveller returning to his home city, and an
obvious entourage would destroy that. So Llandry had to fly so far
back she could barely keep Devary in sight. The strain took its
toll on her injured arm and back, and by the end of the eventide
hours she was flagging badly. When Devary stopped to sleep, she
settled to the ground with relief. A night spent on the ground with
nothing but a blanket for comfort was a new experience: exciting,
though it would probably lose its piquancy after a few repetitions.
At least she had the deep mosses to lie in.

'Sig, I need you
to tell me when Devary goes, all right?' If he understood her he
gave no indication of it. Llandry sighed and let it go. She had to
sleep; if she missed Devary's departure she would simply have to
catch him up.

As she lay down
and shut her eyes she felt something brush lightly against her
cheek. She sat up in alarm, heart pounding. Had she been
discovered? She waited for several minutes, but nobody could be
seen or heard nearby. The light touch came again, amid a whirl of
colour and a soft buzzing sound, and at last she identified the
source: her little winged friend had followed her.

'You kept
yourself well hidden,' she murmured, catching it gently in her
hands. Remarkable; she hadn't expected that the creature had enough
awareness of her to go to such lengths.

'Well, if you're
staying, hush. I want to sleep.' She released it, soothing it with
a gentle touch of her will, and the buzzing subsided. Huddling
under her blankets with Sigwide's warmth to comfort her, Llandry
fell asleep.

***

They had passed
through the mountains of north-eastern Irbel and begun the descent
into Nimdre before Llandry's presence was discovered. Tired and in
pain, she had been steadily losing height until she was flying some
way below the winged guards' altitude. She had barely noticed, and
when the nearest guard shouted and circled down to her level it was
too late to escape. She was recognised, of course - everybody knew
her mother's face - and she found herself marched forcibly ahead to
be presented to Devary.

He looked down at
her with an impassive face. Llandry squirmed, suddenly ashamed of
herself for her deceit.

'Don't say
anything about my mother,' she begged. 'I know she won't approve. I
just-'

Devary held up a
hand. 'I don't believe I need you to explain.' His tone was quite
cold, and Llandry felt terrible. She had lost his good opinion, and
she would be marched straight back to Glinnery to face her mother's
anger. But then Devary smiled.

'That is because
I imagine I can understand. Though I must inform your mother of
your whereabouts, as soon as possible.' Llandry felt a wave of
relief wash over her, followed by a tremor of excitement. He wasn't
going to reject her. She could stay with him after all.

Then she
grimaced, feeling a twinge of renewed pain work its way down her
back.

'See now, you
have hurt yourself again. What would your mother say?' She
stiffened, but his tone was light, teasing. She smiled back
shyly.

'I'm not really
hurt. Just a bit tired.'

'You have flown
all the way? I'm impressed, truly. You are a woman of
determination.' He looked at the guard who still held Llandry's
arm. 'All is well. We will take a carriage as soon as we reach the
gates.' The guard nodded and took off again, returning to his
station. Devary looked back at Llandry.

'Can you walk for
another few miles? We are not far from Nimdre.'

'My legs are
fine. It's just my arms and back that are tired.'

He nodded.
'Excellent. I will find a room for you at the Harp, I think. Your
mother used to love it.'

'Ma's been to
Nimdre?' The idea shouldn't surprise her; Ynara was too
knowledgeable to have spent her life confined to
Glinnery.

'She used to
visit quite regularly, once,' he said. 'With me.' He didn't smile
that time, and Llandry sensed a touch of regret in his tone. She
was polite enough to refrain from questioning him
further.

'Shall we go? I
don't know about you but I am starving.'

He laughed. 'What
have you had to eat since we left? Very little? We had better
hurry, indeed.'

***

Their destination
was Draetre in northwestern Nimdre, a town of moderate size that
proved to lie in the heart of the expansive forest. It was twilight
when they arrived, a condition of light that Llandry had never seen
before. In its muted serenity it reminded her of Glinnery's
eventide, only it was darker, full of shadows. She didn't find it
disturbing; on the contrary she was enchanted by it. Watching from
the windows of their hired carriage, she was completely absorbed by
the curious half-light.

Devary's home
town had an air of sleepy serenity which Llandry found particularly
agreeable. Buildings of wood and pale grey stone were constructed
with a haphazard air, as if they were not the product of conscious
design but had instead shouldered their way out of the ground,
developing bulges and protrusions as necessary to contain the
requirements of their inhabitants. There was a charm about this,
despite the aura of confusion spawned by the peculiar buildings and
crowded, circuitous streets.

The Silver Harp
(its odd appearance notwithstanding) proved to be a particularly
elegant establishment; so much so that it was hard to credit that
money changed hands in exchange for her accommodation. She was
given a room near the top of a building so peculiarly constructed
that, from the outside, it appeared ready to topple. But inside,
the layout of the rooms possessed an inexplicable logic and harmony
that was wholly unexpected, and she found no further reason to
doubt its solidity. Her room was well-lit by long, clear windows,
beautifully panelled with silvery wood, and comfortably upholstered
in silks and velvets. Best of all, a large tub stood in an
adjoining chamber which was quickly filled with hot water for her
use. She was waited upon rather than served by the patrons of the
establishment, and engaged in genial conversation. She felt like an
invited guest more than a paying customer.

She was quite
settled, and perfectly ready to take advantage of the tub next
door; but Devary inexplicably lingered after the attendants had
departed. He was inspecting her room rather critically, Llandry
felt.

'Your mother
would expect me to get the very best for you,' he explained,
frowningly examining the large panes of glass through which the
soft, silvery moonlight shone.

'This is the
best. I can hardly imagine how it could be better.'

He smiled.
'Perhaps so. I'll call for you tomorrow, then, and we will see the
town.'

Llandry had every
intention of exploring before that time. The peculiar twilight of
Nimdre intrigued her, and she wanted to experience more of it
before she slept. But Devary looked exhausted, so she merely
smiled. 'Mm, well. That tub is calling to me.'

'Ah, yes. I'm
looking forward to doing the same. Tomorrow, then?'

'Certainly.'

Llandry kept her
bathing short, eager to investigate Draetre. When she slipped out
of her room, the twilight had deepened but had yet to descend into
full darkness. She wore a long cloak with the hood pulled low over
her face, one that was voluminous enough to conceal her wings. She
wanted no well-meaning strangers confounding her with conversation.
She stepped slowly into the wide road - such as it was; it wound
and turned far more than thoroughfares were wont to do in cities.
Standing alone, she felt a sense of thrilling freedom. She could be
anybody, here; not an awkward, shy girl more comfortable with her
jewels than with her peers; nor the quiet, unassuming and largely
overlooked daughter of an Elder of Waeverleyne. She could go
anywhere she chose: disappear into the shadows in the folds of her
cloak.