Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series (42 page)

Krolik woke her
bringing in her breakfast. By the time she had splashed water over
her face, he was gone. She stared down at the tray. There was a
stack of the hard biscuits, a large bowl full of dried fruits, a
jar of nuts. Did Krolik know somehow that she was storing food? Had
he guessed she was about to run away? Had he told Cho Petak? Mena
suddenly heard that rippling laughter in her head again and
shrugged.

She whisked most of the
food through to put in the old satchel and then sat nibbling at
some she had left on the tray. She had barely swallowed her first
piece of fruit when Cho Petak was behind her chair.

‘Good morning
Sir.’

‘I thought that Krolik
was bringing you more food?’

‘Oh he does Sir. I have
eaten most of it already – it is far more than I was given before.
I take what is left to the gardens with me, for later
Sir.’

Cho considered the
child then nodded and left her.

‘Stars let that be the
last time I need see him,’ Mena thought.

She went into the
bedchamber and fetched the satchel, putting the last pieces of food
from the tray in with the rest. On impulse, she crammed the box of
coloured inks on the top and looked once around the room.
Straightening narrow shoulders, Mena marched out and down to the
gardens. She paused at the gate into the herb garden. She had
cleared quite a large amount of the ground and the plants now
released from the choking embrace of the weeds reached to the sun,
leaves and flowers burgeoning by the day.

Slowly, Mena walked
around the path, bending to brush her fingers over some plants,
murmuring softly all the while. She smiled when she reached the
young rosemary bush, its pale blue flowers quivered with life and
new shoots sprang from its base.

‘Tyen,’ she called
softly.

The boy emerged silent
footed from the wooden building.

‘We must go now,’ Mena
told him, holding his stare.

He chewed his thumb
nail and nodded, leading her along to the heap of rotting weeds.
Mena settled the strap of the satchel more firmly across her back,
leaving both hands free. Tyen glanced back at her as he stooped to
pull aside a branch of the beech hedge.

‘Very quiet, all the
time,’ he ordered, and ducked into the dark hole in the
hedge.

Keeping at Tyen’s
heels, Mena moved in behind him. In moments she found herself
crawling on all fours. Her trousers were torn at the knees by the
time Tyen stopped and she banged her head into his back. In the dim
light filtering through the thick hedge, Mena saw a grating ahead,
raised on its edge. Tyen leaned back to her.

‘Once we’re in, pull it
down over you.’

Mena nodded and Tyen
disappeared. She wriggled round to go feet first as he had done and
felt his hand guide her right foot to the rung of a ladder. She
descended another rung and reached up to hook her fingers in the
metal grill. She pulled, and nothing happened. She tugged harder
and the grill fell with a dull thud. Mena wobbled on the ladder but
managed not to fall. She had no idea how far down they had to go
and no desire to break any bones this soon after leaving the
garden.

Tyen touched her back
and she found herself taking a last step down into ankle deep
water. At least, she hoped it was just water. Tyen gripped her
hand, tugging downwards. She felt a roof brush her head and bent
lower. Her free hand touched a damp wall of rough brick and the
hand Tyen held occasionally bumped a similar wall on the other
side.

Tears of exhaustion
were trickling down her cheeks by the time Tyen stopped. He dragged
at her hand in the total darkness and she realised he meant them to
rest. He leaned close as Mena pressed her aching back against the
curved wall, biting her lip to keep back a groan.

‘We’re half across the
town,’ he breathed in her ear. ‘There’s a way out just ahead and
up, but we must go on, right to the river.’

‘Right,’ Mena whispered
back.

She pulled the satchel
in front of her and dug out a handful of dried fruits which she
passed to Tyen. They ate in silence, hearing the drip of water
behind and ahead and, every so often, a scuttering sound as of
small animals.

‘We have only been gone
half a morning,’ Mena thought. ‘Yet I do not know if I can go much
further like this.’

The darkness did not
especially bother her, but having to walk bent double for so long
was an agony. Tyen sniffed and tensed. Mena turned in his direction
and the scent of mint drifted over the two children. Mena breathed
deeply and felt her panic subside. Of course she could go on! Half
a morning’s walk was nothing, but it was at least a start on the
twelve or more days she anticipated to reach the Oblaka.

‘What’s that smell?’
Tyen’s question hissed into her ear.

‘Just one of the herbs
from the garden,’ Mena whispered back. She sensed Tyen’s doubts and
whispered again to distract him.

‘How far to the
river?’

‘About the same. The
people who are still here, are usually between this part of the
town and the Menedula. Not so many to hear us in the next
bit.’

He stood up, Mena
scrambled up beside him and they continued through the drain. Mena
was only conscious of the hot pain in her back when Tyen stopped
abruptly. He pushed her back and put a hand over her mouth. She
pushed his hand away, realising that there was a glimmer of light
from high overhead. Faint cries grew louder until Mena could make
out some sort of speech. High pitched shrieks mingled with guttural
howls, making it impossible to understand any words – if words they
were.

Tyen drew her further
back and held her arm tight. The voices grew louder, reaching a
crescendo of dissonance, before fading again. Mena found that Tyen
was trembling and could only guess at what meaning those strange
cries held for him.

‘Is it safe to go on
now?’ she murmured.

Tyen spat. ‘I keep on
telling you girl. Ain’t nowhere safe.’

She felt his shoulders
lift in a shrug against her arm.

‘We’d best go on. How
long before you’re missed you reckon?’

‘Late
afternoon.’

Tyen grunted. ‘Got to
be out of here well before then. Come on then.’

Mena had not a clue as
to how Tyen found his way in this dark warren. Several times her
free hand felt a gap in the wall, suggesting other drains joining
with this one. Surely the boy could not have learnt to travel this
route in the relatively few days since the destruction of the town?
Mena stumbled on, pondering Tyen’s unerring leadership. At least it
kept her mind busy with something other than cataloguing each new
ache. Tyen slowed again, pulling her close to him.

‘Round the next bend –
the river. Left a boat there, but don’t know if it will still be
there.’

Wavering light began to
glimmer as they approached the curve, then dazzled them. Mena threw
her arm across her eyes, blinking against the glare of sun on
water.

‘Wait here.’

Tyen crept forward to
the very edge of the brick built drain and peered cautiously one
way, then the other. He beckoned and Mena joined him. What looked
to her eyes much like a very small tree trunk, half hollowed out,
nestled against the rim of the drain. Tyen was busy loosening a
thin rope and pulling the tree trunk closer.

‘Get in,’ he
ordered.

Obediently, but very
dubiously, Mena climbed down to what Tyen had said was a boat, and
stepped into it. It rocked alarmingly and she sat down with a
jarring bump. Tyen grinned at her and dropped in front of where
she’d sat. He lifted a strangely shaped length of board and dug it
into the water. Mena discovered they were moving, close to the
bank, following the flow of the river. She clung to each side of
this odd tree trunk and hoped fervently that they would not be
travelling this way for too long.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Kera had made a carry
sack for Lula, like the one her mother Khosa travelled in, and
Lorak looped it about his neck. Guards, Delvers, the Stronghold
staff and Yoral, the chamberlain, all came to bid farewell to the
ancient black Dragon Fenj. The other Dragons waited outside on the
still snow-covered crags above the Stronghold to sing him on his
journey. Elyssa and Babach had been the last to say goodbye, and
Lorak was already on Fenj’s back, giving minute instructions to
Bikram regarding the growing areas.

Fenj’s massive bulk
paced to the gateway. He turned his head for a final glance at
those gathered in the hall. He moved through the gate, onto the
span of rock bridging the Stronghold with its neighbouring
mountain, and lifted easily into the air. Snow Dragons called and
trumpeted, then joined in the song of the great Dragons. Kija and
Kadi stood erect, their wings fully extended as Fenj flew slowly
past them. He tilted round a pinnacle, heading south eastwards, and
the pale green Ashta swung up by his wing tip, Mim on her back.
Fenj said nothing, merely increasing the pace of his flight until
Ashta swerved away, calling her last goodbyes.

Then it was just Fenj,
and Lorak, and Lula, alone in the crisp mountain air. Lorak was
content with the silence. A great affection had grown up between
Lady Emla’s irascible old gardener and the Dragon Elder. Lorak
sensed a sadness in Fenj now, but also a determination, and he sat
on the Dragon’s back calmly, waiting for Fenj to choose his time to
speak. Lula had burrowed deep into her sack after her first excited
look at the land falling away below had turned to a squeak of
horror. Lorak could feel several claws, even through his coat and
three shirts.

Fenj flew on, his wing
beats regular and powerful. The snow beneath them slowly thinned
away and grasslands began. Lorak twisted to look back and was
surprised to see how small the mountains appeared already. The sun
felt warmer and Lorak turned his face up to its heat.

‘Do you wish to stop,
Lorak my friend?’ Fenj’s first words since leaving the Stronghold
murmured through Lorak’s mind.

‘Yes!’ Lula cried,
before Lorak could answer.

Fenj’s wings ceased
their beat and he glided smoothly down in a spiral manoeuvre to
settle on this vast stretch of grass land. Lorak dismounted and
released the tiny Kephi. She sniffed at the rough grass, then
caught sight of her tail out of the corner of her eye. She leapt
wildly to catch it and rolled under Fenj’s chest. He rumbled
quietly.

‘I think you do not
enjoy flying after all then my Lula?’ he asked.

Lula sat up straight
and washed her ears briskly.

‘Your mother seemed to
love it,’ Fenj added in an innocent tone.

Lorak grinned. Lula’s
eyes narrowed.

‘I expect I will soon
find it boring,’ she announced.

Fenj’s eyes whirred.
‘Then I shall have to think of something better with which to
entertain you.’

Lula studied her huge
friend. She was not always sure about the nuances of teasing. She
turned her back and prepared to stalk Lorak’s feet. Lorak
eventually caught hold of her and put her back in her sack, to the
accompaniment of much spitting.

They flew for three
days before Fenj sensed Jeela’s mind ahead of them.

‘We are nearly at the
place where the Silver Ones have dwelt throughout ages,’ he told
Lorak as they sat at midday, watching Lula leaping after emerald
butterflies.

‘Aah. Is there
something particular we’re going to do there?’ Lorak
asked.

Fenj swung his head low
to stare closely at Lorak.

‘There may well be. I
have spent much thought on the little we know of the thing Thryssa
encountered in Gaharn. Her last message from Vagrantia said that
another such had been destroyed there and one still threatened her
people.’

‘Do you think it were
for the best then – that messages don’t go through they old circle
things to Vagrantia at the moment?’

Fenj reclined more
comfortably and watched Lula dancing through the longer
grasses.

‘Whatever it is, it
seems stuck there in Vagrantia for now. If it found out how to use
the circles, it could go anywhere.’

‘I don’t understand why
it be stuck there Fenj.’

‘Because it is inside
one of Thryssa’s people.’ Fenj thought for a while. ‘If it came out
of that person, it could go wherever it wanted I
suppose.’

Lorak frowned, then
shook his head.

‘It’s no good, I don’t
rightly follow you m’dear.’ He reached into a pocket. ‘Drop of
restorative?’

‘Splendid
fellow.’

It was nearing midday
when Fenj and Lorak saw the five conical shapes clustered on the
otherwise empty plains before them. Fenj flew higher until they
came directly over the space between two craters. The one on the
left, Fenj told Lorak curtly, was Fira Circle, home of the water
mages, and which had been taken over by the unknown entity. Past
Fira and adjoining that Circle, was Kedara, home of the air mages.
The one on the right, was Segra, the Circle of which Lashek was the
Speaker. Straight ahead was Parima and beyond Parima lay Talvo.
They were too high to be more than flecks of darkness should anyone
look up to the sky and conversely, Lorak could make out no details
as they over flew Parima.