Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series (10 page)

Dessi was strongly
attracted to the teachings of Myata, in which Chakar had been
instructing her. Mim too found the ideas of great interest: they
felt somehow familiar to him, as if he had heard them long ago and
now nudged at his memory. He knew though, that no Nagum in his
village had spoken to him of such things.

There were similarities
of course between Nagum beliefs and the Drogoyan Myata: both cared
for growing things, revered the life giving land, and abhorred
violence. But Mim could see clearly still the devastation wreaked
by Linvaks – his village destroyed, himself the sole survivor. And
he knew that he could never stand by and allow such murder to take
place – he would fight now, fight and kill. He glanced down at
Dessi, glad to see some colour tingeing her ashen cheeks, knowing
she was undamaged by the great effort she had expended save for the
need for a long sleep.

The Dragon Lord
appeared relaxed but part of his mind travelled his Stronghold,
touching a Snow Dragon’s thoughts within the Domain of Asat,
drifting lightly over Kadi. Briefly, his thought flared far to the
south east and the Circles of Vagrantia. Instantly, Gremara was
alerted to her Lord’s presence.

‘Is all well my Lord?
The healing was successful?’

‘Yes,’ Mim replied.
‘All rest here now. What of the trouble in Vagrantia?’

He felt a tremor of
amusement pass through their linked minds.

‘Worry not of Vagrantia
yet, my Lord. I watch carefully, unknown to their mages. Rest now
yourself Lord, and all will be well.’

In the morning, Kera
and Nesh busied themselves helping the chamberlain’s staff
distribute mugs of tea to the many who had slept in the hall.
Pausing by Babach, Kera looked anxiously at the Observer’s
blistered face. Berri smiled.

‘We are keeping him
asleep Lady Kera. His body will fully heal more rapidly while he is
still. He will wake in a while then we shall make him sleep again,
and so on for the next days.’

‘Those great holes,’
Kera ventured, still unable to believe that Dessi had managed to
close them.

Setting down her mug,
Berri gently raised the light, dampened cover over Babach’s chest.
Kera stared in awe at the smooth skin which looked healthy although
tender. She shook her head in wonder and Berri replaced the
cover.

‘Kija touched his mind
twice during the night and she told him what had been done. He
understands the need for rest now – he is old, even by Dragon
reckoning so Kija says.’

Kera’s next call was to
Lorak. The gardener had just emerged from his workroom, Bikram
bleary eyed at his shoulder. In answer to Kera’s question Lorak
gave a brief nod.

‘Fenj sleeps now. That
young lad Daro, he came and sent him to sleep. Best thing for the
old fella.’

Lula tiptoed down
Fenj’s neck and wound herself around Lorak’s ankles. He scooped her
up and she buzzed urgently, butting her head under his
chin.

‘I know. I’ll find you
some food, don’t you fret.’

Guards who had fallen
asleep where they had sat watching Dessi heal the stranger, now
roused and quietly went to the tables where breakfast had been set.
Gradually the hall emptied, Guards going down to the lower growing
areas with Bikram and Lorak, and many Delvers returning to the
Domain.

Mim and Ashta left to
fly to Arak to visit the slowly recovering Kadi. Voron sat with
Kera, Imshish and Jal while Nesh spoke with the first awakening
Delver healer. Lula suddenly chirruped and raced down Fenj’s back
to sit in front of the long black face. His eyelids lifted and
prismed eyes whirred the shadows on snow colour.

At the same moment,
Kija moved towards the low pallet on which Observer Babach lay. Her
golden head lowered to study him closely. The first thing Babach
saw in the Night Lands, was the most beautiful face he could ever
have imagined.

High on her favourite
ledge in Talvo Circle, Gremara lay, soaking up the warmth of the
sun. She rejoiced that she should be sane again after so very many
cycles. Tilting her silver scaled face against the black rock, she
watched Jeela indulgently. The small ivory Dragon was playing in
the air currents, occasionally swooping to frighten a small flock
of lumen from their grazing.

They were so young for
the tasks ahead of them. That was the one thought that brought back
a touch of melancholy to Gremara. Her long awaited Dragon Lord was
a child, even allowing for the much lesser span his kind could
expect. He would live far longer now, with his new Dragon blood but
he was still a scant sixteen or so cycles old she
judged.

And this little Jeela –
only half of one cycle! Gremara marvelled at the workings of
destiny, fate, the old gods’ will, that such children would hold
the Balance between them. Unknown to Mim, she had bespoken Kija and
had learned of the other soul bonded child, the one Kija named as
her daughter. That child too carried one of the precious egg
pendants, and Kija told Gremara that her eyes were silvered.
Gremara understood a great deal since her flight to the limits of
the air that surrounded this world. Her memories had become
unmuddled, and she exulted in her clarity of thought.

There was so much to
teach Jeela. She could transfer the memories, as had happened to
her, but Gremara was reluctant to take that step yet. Although
Gremara had straightened everything in her head, or at least, those
Beyond had done so for her, she was still apprehensive of giving
Jeela all the information she held. Jeela would absorb the memories
intact and concise, as had the first few silver Dragons. Then the
increasing tendency to lonely madness had destroyed the coherence
in their minds.

If the Dragon Lord had
not come now, young as he was, Gremara suspected that the plans of
those Beyond would have been cast into irrevocable disarray. But he
had come, and so had Jeela. Jeela would succeed Gremara in due time
here at Talvo and out in the wider world. There would be no need
for a silver Dragon to live in solitude, waiting for the day of
reckoning.

Gremara stretched
luxuriously. She had fed well yesterday, her body was warmed by the
sun and her heart by the sight of Jeela spinning over Talvo Circle.
She sent a wisp of her attention right across the adjoining Circle
of Parima to the Circle of Fira, where dwelt the water adepts. She
noted that the gateways had been sealed in Fira, the entrances
closed and heavily barred which should give access to tunnels
leading to both Parima and Kedara Circles.

Gremara’s thought
drifted across the lakes and pools of Fira and picked up the
rumours of Speaker Kallema’s intentions. Gremara withdrew, tucking
the small items of information into a corner of her mind for later
consideration and peeped into Kedara Circle. So many air mages’
thoughts were swirling into the upper atmosphere that she pulled
back at once. But there was no undercurrent of menace there, as she
had felt in Fira. She did not bother to spy on Parima or Segra,
knowing already that there was nothing to give rise to her concern
within them.

Gremara yawned, giving
a rare glimpse of the curved fangs that could inflict fearsome
damage. She twisted her long sinuous neck over her shoulder,
resting her head between her wings. The silver Dragon slept, while
the ivory Dragon danced on the breeze above her.

Thryssa’s new first
councillor Pajar, sat scowling over a parchment recently arrived
through the circle from the Stronghold. He rested his head on one
hand, letting the scroll slowly re wind. One full cycle was all the
time he had spent training directly under Alya for this position,
and it was usual to spend at least ten times that long in
training.

Thryssa wrote of some
rebellion in Gaharn and that she personally had allied Vagrantia
formally with Lady Emla’s People. She was about to participate in
some sort of action alongside the Golden Lady: she failed to
specify exactly what that entailed. Thryssa listed several topics
with which she had been involved prior to the appearance of first
the affliction among the Vagrantians, and second, the Lady Emla’s
unexpected arrival here.

She explained to Pajar
how she had intended to conclude these many and varied issues and,
in the event of her not returning to Parima, all such information
was to be presented to Speaker Lashek of Segra when he returned.
Lashek was the senior Speaker who would naturally assume the rank
of High Speaker on Thryssa’s death. It was at that point that Pajar
clutched his head and stopped reading.

Stars be merciful – but
what was Thryssa up to? She must have put herself in a perilous
position to send her councillor what was virtually a document
dictating her final wishes. Pajar raised his head at a light rap at
the door. Speaker Orsim of Kedara came into the room. Uninvited, he
sat opposite Pajar, glancing briefly at the loosely wound scroll
secured under Pajar’s hand.

‘News from Gaharn?’ he
enquired.

‘I have not read it
all, but the High Speaker is in what sounds dreadfully like a
battle situation.’

‘What? May I see
it?’

Pajar did not hesitate.
Orsim was as trusted as was Lashek: it was merely tradition that
barred air or water mages from the High Speakership.

Pushing the scroll
across the table, he admitted: ‘I was too shocked to finish it at
once.’ He blushed, the colour in his face clashing unfortunately
with the flame of his hair.

Orsim raised a brow,
flattening the parchment under his hands.

‘I reached the part
where she designates Speaker Lashek formally as her successor.’
Pajar clutched his head again while Orsim bent over the familiar,
close written script.

‘Hmm.’ Orsim sat back,
the scroll whispering into a curl again. ‘Well Pajar, there is
absolutely nothing we can do to influence whatever is happening in
Gaharn, so I suggest you try to put it from your mind for now. But
remember, Thryssa was raised High Speaker because of her many
strengths and her wisdom. She is most certainly not a fool. Now, I
am here because of new reports from Kedara.’

Orsim crossed his legs
and regarded the young first councillor of Parima
shrewdly.

‘Chornay, Daro’s friend
who chose to come with him here to the Corvida, has made friends
with those three poor creatures Thryssa had removed from Fira
Circle.’

Pajar nodded. He had
been appalled to learn that Speaker Kallema had ordered the virtual
imprisonment of the three whose eyes had silvered.

‘They were all severely
frightened both by their confinement and by the deluge of hatred
directed at them by the majority of Fira’s adepts.’

Pajar nodded again. ‘I
heard that even their parents turned against them.’

‘Well, Chornay was
outraged at things they began to tell him of their treatment within
Fira.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘I would have said that both Daro
and Chornay were average students Pajar, but Daro showed a great
increase in ability when his eyes changed.’ The Speaker shrugged.
‘Some of that seems to have affected Chornay – he is far in advance
of his standard now. I had to reprimand him, mildly of course, but
he sent his mind into Fira last night.’

‘We know that the
access tunnels to Parima and Kedara are closed.’ Pajar
interjected.

‘Yes, but Chornay said
the waters of the two larger lakes within Fira were agitated,
bubbling. Almost as though they were being heated.’

Pajar looked alarmed.
‘The volcanoes are long dead surely? There are still the hot
springs but no molten rock has ever been seen here in all our time
of occupation.’

Orsim wandered over to
the window. The Corvida was two leagues from the tunnel to Fira
Circle, and four from Kedara’s tunnel. He looked to his right,
across the expanse of Parima, to the rim which bordered
Talvo.

‘I consulted Pachela.
She says there is no activity beneath the earth at
present.’

Pajar’s face showed
only incomprehension. Orsim restrained a sigh and sought patience.
Pajar would do very well as first councillor once he had more
confidence in himself, but Orsim found him still far too nervous of
his position.

‘Pachela thinks Kallema
is planning something, quite out of our experience. I agreed with
the child once I had gone over all the facts she could produce. I
have ordered that the water supplies for Kedara, Segra and Parima
be checked at once.’

Pajar stared at him.
‘But what could they do?’

‘Pachela says – and the
three from Fira agree – that Kallema’s mages could redirect the
water sources from our Circles, or conversely, overload them, or
even open more.’

‘So either drought or
flooding would result.’ Pajar’s brain at last began to work in the
manner which had first brought him to Thryssa’s attention as a
future councillor. Water had always been in abundant supply, even
when the air mages reported parched conditions beyond Vagrantia’s
towering walls.

‘Flooding,’ Pajar
concluded. ‘A much quicker way to ruin our crops, and, depending on
the amount of water Fira can redirect, more damage to houses and,
stars forfend, to the people.’

Pajar went to the door
leading to a larger general office where several scribes sat at
work. He murmured something and returned to his chair.