Draykon (13 page)

A
streak of grey fur shot across her vision, disappearing into the
waving grasses ahead. The colours were wrong, she noticed
abstractedly; yellow where she expected green, blue where she
expected red. She followed the grey creature, calling for Sigwide
to wait, wait. Hands gripped her feet and she fell into an expanse
of moss that changed its colours dizzyingly, reaching up to grasp
her and pull her down into the depths...

Llandry woke
slowly, fighting her way to consciousness through the clinging moss
that filled her mind. She felt groggy, disorientated, as if she had
slept for days. Perhaps she had. She rose determinedly, ignoring
the weakness that threatened to send her spinning to the ground.
She recognised the feeling of muffled abstraction: her mother had
fed her herbs to keep her under. That explained the
dreams.

Ynara was
cooking. Whatever it was smelt wonderful, and Llandry realised she
was starving.

'Ma.'

'Hello, love. Do
you think you could eat something?'

'Half of a
nivven, probably. Maybe all of it.'

Ynara grinned.
'Good. Just a minute, then.'

'I'd like to go
home, later.'

'Home?' Ynara
deliberately busied herself at the stove, not looking at
Llandry.

'As in, back to
my own tree.'

'Oh, but, love. I
don't think you're well enough yet.'

'How long have I
been asleep?'

'About two
days.'

'Then I think
I've slept enough.'

Ynara set a bowl
of soup before her, adding a plate of fresh bread. Llandry ate
readily, feeling stronger with each mouthful. Her mother drew out
the chair opposite and sat, watching Llandry eat.

'Your father and
I are worried about you.'

'I won't be far
away, Ma.'

'Far
enough.'

Llandry looked
up, then wished she hadn't. Her mother's face was taut with
concern, her eyes dark with real fear. Llandry winced inwardly.
Ynara had never been able to have more children, though she had
wanted to; giving birth to Llandry had almost killed her, and Aysun
had forbidden any repeat of the experience. She knew all too well
that she was all her mother would ever have.

'I could stay a
day or two more.'

'We just want to
make sure you're all right, love.'

'I know, Ma. Can
I have the balcony? I want to get some work done.'

'Of course, love.
Anything you need. Only leave it a day or two, hm? Your arm needs a
bit more time to heal.' Her mother's obvious relief was painful.
Llandry knew her day or two would turn into many more, but she
didn't have the heart to argue.

Of course, if her
mother's house was as it used to be - just herself, Ynara and Aysun
- she might not have wanted to.

'Is... will
Devary be staying much longer?'

Ynara's head
tilted, her expression becoming appraising.

'Yes, love. He
offered to stay and help. I asked him to keep an eye on you if we
aren't home.'

Llandry sighed,
not bothering to hide it. With Devary as her guardian - jailer,
even - she would have no peace at all.

'Oh, love. He's
quite easy to be around, I promise. You'll soon get used to
him.'

Llandry nodded
numbly, not meeting her mother's eyes. How she wished she'd
inherited her mother's easy sociability, that understated charm and
confidence that graced her every interaction. Or, failing that,
could she not have followed her father's example? He freely
rejected every social nicety, concerning himself with none of them.
Instead she was caught in an eternal conflict: wanting to be part
of her mother's easy social world, but unable to learn
how.

'You trust him to
take care of me?' Her mother's words in the kitchen came back to
her; her distrust for Devary had been obvious, though Llandry did
not understand the cause.

'I do,' Ynara
replied. 'He's... capable, Llan, and he knows what will happen to
him if anything happens to you.'

'What will happen
to him?'

'I expect to
begin with castration and move on to flaying alive.'

Llandry grinned
in spite of herself. Nobody in their right mind would thwart her
mother.

Ynara came around
the table and hugged her, checking her arm as she did so. 'He won't
be around all the time, love. There'll be other things for him to
do.'

'I'll get used to
him.' Llandry spoke with a confidence she didn't really
feel.

'I hope so, love,
because I have to leave today. Just for a few days.'

'What?
Why?'

'Duty,' Ynara
sighed. 'The trouble with the Night Cloak is a big issue. For
generations - centuries, probably - the border between the
Darklands and the Daylands has been fixed, agreed between Glour and
Glinnery. In the past, disputes over that border have been...
bloody. We can't let this pass without some show of
investigation.'

'A "show" of
investigation?'

'Well. I don't
personally believe the Glour Government had anything to do with it.
I know most of them. They're too sensible.' Ynara smiled briefly.
'I'm willing to believe this is a different sort of problem. But
nonetheless, a delegation must be sent, and inevitably I must go
with it.'

'You don't want
to go.'

Ynara stroked
Llandry's hair. 'I don't want to leave you, sweetheart, especially
while you're ill. But I must be part of this delegation. And
besides, it will give me an opportunity to investigate this cave
business.'

'Ma! You're going
to the cave? After you forbade me?' Fear squeezed Llandry's heart,
picturing her mother attacked by lethal claws.

'Don't worry,
love. There will be a proper expedition launched to examine the
changes to the boundary and oversee the restoration of the border
to its original position. We will have all proper protection. And I
hear that the whurthags have been sent back to the
Lowers.'

'Whurthags?'

Ynara looked
guilty. 'I hadn't meant to mention that. Yes, there was more than
one.'

'And you're still
going? Is it any wonder why I'm stubborn, with a mother like
you?'

Ynara laughed.
'Don't get any ideas, Llan. I still don't want you wandering
caveward, under any circumstances. Just wait for me to return,
please, and I promise I will tell you absolutely
everything.'

Llandry slumped.
'I wish I could go with you.'

'Not with those
injuries, love. You're getting better, but you'd certainly rip them
open again. And I don't want to take you anywhere near that area
until it's declared safe.'

'I know, I know.
Are you going alone?'

'No. Your father
insists on coming along. To protect me, he says.' Her lips twitched
at the idea.

Llandry's stomach
dropped a long way. 'You're
both
going?'

'It's only for a
few days, love, as I said.'

Llandry groaned.
A few
days
alone with a stranger? Her life had taken a
definite turn for the worse lately.

'Can't you...
can't Devary go with you and Papa stay here?'

'Do you dislike
Devary so much?' Her mother sounded disappointed, which was
unbearable.

'N-no, not - not
dislike, exactly. I just...' She couldn't find the words to
explain.

'You'll soon get
to know him, love. He's ... well, he has his faults, but he's easy
to get along with. Abominably loveable, in fact. I think you'll
like him.'

'I'm sure you're
right, Mamma.' Llandry didn't feel any conviction of truth in her
words, but she spoke them anyway.

'Truthfully,
love, I'm hoping you'll look after Devary a bit as well. He's
wearing himself out.'

'He must be more
than twice my age,' said Llandry irritably. 'He doesn't need
looking after.'

'He does,' said
Ynara. 'He's trying too hard.'

'What do you mean
by that?'

'He's overworking
himself, trying to do everything at once. Helping Aysun, helping
me, trying to look after you.'

'Sounds like he's
trying to make up for something.' Llandry spoke casually, but her
mother's gaze grew sharp.

'Why do you say
that?'

'Oh... no
reason.'

Ynara narrowed
her eyes, but let the allusion pass. 'I need you to do one thing
for me before I leave.'

'Anything.'

'Do you recognise
these names?' Ynara placed a piece of paper in front of Llandry. A
long list was laid out upon it in green ink.

'Some of them,'
Llandry said, scanning rapidly. 'Saudran Iritan. Alen Marstry. They
were some of my customers-by-post.'

'Eva said they're
looking for everyone who has - or had - some of your istore. Is
this a full list?'

'I don't think
so. It's too short.'

'Can you give me
a list of people you've crafted for?'

'I can, Ma, but I
don't know who they all were. I sold a lot at the
markets.'

'I know. Just
write down everyone whose names you do have. It will all
help.'

'What about my
Daylands customers? Has somebody told them?' Llandry felt a flicker
of panic, picturing her clients cold and bloodied, their jewellery
forcibly removed.

'That's the other
thing I'd like you to do, love. The bulletin boards have been
activated to issue warnings about the istore, so some of them will
already know, but perhaps not everyone has heard yet. I'd like you
to write to everyone on your list, tell them to hand in their
istore pieces at the Council Halls. The guard below will see that
your letters are delivered.'

Llandry twisted
the list in her hands, her eyes blurring. 'All these names. Ma, I
got these people robbed, killed...'

Ynara released
her and moved to sit in front of her daughter, stroking her face.
'No, love, you didn't. You didn't know. You've done nothing
wrong.'

Llandry blinked a
few times, trying to control the prickle of tears behind her eyes.
She knew firsthand the sort of pain the whurthag could inflict; she
only hoped the creature's victims had died too quickly to feel much
of it.

Ynara kissed her,
wrapping her in a quick, fierce hug. 'I have to go, love. We are
leaving in an hour. Will you promise me to take care of yourself?
You and Devary?'

'Of course, Ma.
And you - you be careful.'

'I'll be fine.
Your father will be with me. Can you picture him permitting
anything to get near me without invitation?' She smiled, and
Llandry couldn't help smiling back. 'I'll be home soon,
love.'

***

Llandry wrote
letters until her fingers ached. She wrote on until her fingers
formed blisters and began to bleed. Hours after the departure of
her mother and father, Llandry was still curled up in the parlour
writing detailed missives to each person on her list. She couldn't
help including apologies, useless though they were. She felt
responsible for the trouble that now threatened each of these
people.

Devary arrived
home sometime after sunset. He entered the parlour hesitantly, as
if unsure of his welcome. Llandry tried to smile. Her muscles were
so tense she feared it was more of a grimace, but it seemed to
help. He smiled back.

'I'm sorry you're
left with me,' he said. 'It is only for a few days.'

'It's
fine.'

'If your letters
are done, I could take them down for you. There is a messenger
waiting.'

'Thank you.' She
picked up the pile of envelopes that lay at her left elbow, handing
them to him. He took them, taking care not to touch her fingers. He
turned to leave.

'Devary?'

He turned back.
'Hm?'

'What would you
like for supper?'

He gave a genuine
smile, one which lit up his eyes with real warmth. 'Why don't I
cook? I will show you something from Nimdre.'

'Thank you.' She
hesitated. 'M-maybe you could show me how to make it.'

'Agreed,' he
said. 'Meet me in the kitchen in ten minutes.' He left, still
smiling. Llandry took a deep breath, wondering what had possessed
her to suggest it. Guilt at her own lack of graciousness, probably.
He meant well, after all, and he was harmless; the problem lay with
her.

Chapter Ten

Eva placed a
black pebble on the map spread across Guardian Troste's
table.

'That's where the
seventh was found.' She'd traced a pattern across the map in seven
black pebbles, marking where each whurthag had been discovered.
Commander Iver of the Glinnery delegation had already drawn the new
outline of the Night Cloak, marking where it had expanded into
Glinnery territory. The expansion was fairly even down much of the
Glinnery-Glour border, excepting one area where the line swung
sharply into the Daylands, covering an area of at least a hundred
feet.