Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series (5 page)

He frowned. It had been
more difficult to get her physical body to Drogoya than he had
anticipated – those great lizards had been most unreliable. Perhaps
it would be best to order Grek from the girl’s body now. She could
stay here, in the Menedula, a sort of pet. It would entertain
Rhaki, Cho was quite sure.

There was a core within
the child, utterly resistant to any mind probe Cho had used. Grek
had warned him that even he, within the child’s mind since she was
a new made foetus, could not reach inside that core. Cho dismissed
any worry from his mind. A female, alive only a handful of years,
was no threat to him and his cohorts. Yes, he would order Grek to
remove himself from Mena’s mind at once.

By the time Cho had
walked from his hidden room to the main apartment, Mena came
dancing in from the outer hall. Her eyes shone blood red, flame
flickering in their centres.

‘Leave her Grek,’ Cho
ordered quietly.

Briefly, Grek’s mind
battered at Cho’s in fury – he had grown to enjoy this body and
where was he to go if he left it?

‘Unbody, as has D’Lah.’
Cho repeated his order calmly.

The child’s body
stiffened to an inhuman rigidity as Cho watched with an academic
interest. The red of her eyes slowly faded and became a dark blue
that was almost purple. Her body slackened and she stared up at Cho
Petak in confusion. Frowning, she looked around the large room with
its row of tall narrow windows. Then her eyes rolled up and she
folded bonelessly to the floor.

A quivering of the air
alongside Cho made him raise a brow.

‘Does she still live,
Grek?’

‘Yes she lives,’ Grek
laughed.

How well he remembered
that laugh, thought Cho.

‘May I choose another
body Cho?’

Cho Petak shrugged. ‘If
you must. But I believe you will find the unbodied state far more
useful for our purposes now.’

On the floor below the
apartment where Mena lay unconscious, a tiny spider spun a thread.
It swung from the top of the cupboard on which it had spent hours
in terror, to the wall. Finding cracks too small for a human eye to
see, it scurried to the window sill. Thank the Light no one had
shut the window. A glow surrounded the spider and swelled, until it
encompassed not a spider but a pigeon. The pigeon rested briefly,
its head sunk low on its breast. Then it fluffed out its feathers
and flew, away from the Menedula towards the north west.

Chakar had organised a
careful watch of the Menedula from the Oblaka. Students devoted to
the Order of Myata and gifted in air magic, took turns, day and
night, waiting for they knew not what to occur. Chakar had told
them only that they were to summon her whatever the hour, if
anything at all out of the ordinary touched their
awareness.

So it was that Lyeto
alerted Babach in Chakar’s absence. Babach cursed wildly,
struggling up the steep path to the main complex. He could smell
the burning and knew they were too late. Lyeto turned to the old
man, his silver eyes wide with horror in the moonlight.

‘We have looked to the
Menedula when we should have watched here more closely.’

Babach shook his head
and pointed on up the path, too short of breath to argue now. About
five hundred lived and worked in the Oblaka and of those, barely
one hundred escaped the inferno that night. Many of those who
survived were Chakar’s particularly promising followers and they
had been talking late in one of the dining halls. They had already
organised themselves into groups, some trying to pull victims from
the fire, while others began the first attempts at treating
horrendously burnt flesh.

Dawn eventually
revealed a grisly scene: the buildings reduced, resembling the
stumps of rotten teeth amidst the debris of fallen masonry. A young
student handed Babach a mug of tea at which he stared in
astonishment.

‘Some of us with little
skill for healing have tried to find some ways we can be of
use.’

Grey pupils in silvered
eyes looked up at Babach. The tracks of tears trailed down ash
smudged cheeks.

‘You can have no idea
how very useful this tea is to me at this moment,’ Babach replied,
his voice hoarse from the smoke. ‘Will you start telling everyone
to begin making their way to Chakar’s cottage? I fear I do not know
your name child?’

‘Melena sir. But is
there room for us all there – it is so tiny?’

Babach drained his mug.
‘Just tell them to make their way there. I will go on to prepare
the rooms.’

Babach found Voron
pacing, frantically worried, in the lower sitting room. The
Observer slumped in Chakar’s armchair. He allowed himself only the
briefest of rests then climbed back to his feet.

‘Come along boy, we
must open the ways down here. There are many to shelter, although
nowhere near as many as I would have wished.’

Voron did not speak as
he watched Observer Babach move along the passages. A finger
raised, a murmured word, and rock dissolved into doorways. Room
after room appeared, large and small. Finally Babach turned back to
Voron, a sad smile on his face.

‘Chakar had long
prepared for something like this, while always hoping it would
never be needed.’ He tilted his head. ‘Go and open the doors Voron,
and bring them down here. The worst injured will go in the first
large room on the right.’

Voron wrote down the
names of all who came down the ladder, through the tiny cellar and
into the underground world. Lyeto did not seem as surprised as any
of the others at the extensive cavern he saw under Chakar’s
cottage. He noticed Voron’s speculative eye on him and gave a tired
smile.

‘I guessed there was a
cellar of some size here, but I did not know how great it would
be,’ he said.

Melena and two boys
began to prepare a meal in one of the larger rooms Babach had
designated as their common room. The first sitting room, where Sava
guarded Chakar’s armchair, was left by unspoken agreement to Babach
and Voron. Babach gathered the mobile survivors into the common
room.

‘Many of you have
learned from Chakar, the fact that the long serving Sacrifice is
not worthy of your trust. More than that, I have to tell you,
impress upon you, that he is our enemy. Beneath these rocks he
cannot trace us – he will believe all at the Oblaka died in the
fires set by the three minions he placed among us.’

While there were
several shocked murmurs, many others in the room nodded in
understanding.

‘Chakar and I have
spent years trying to ascertain from whence Cho Petak came. All we
have discovered points in the same direction. The Lost
Realms.’

In the deep silence
that followed, a wailing cry came from the room where lay the
desperately hurt ones, quickly cut off as a door was
closed.

‘But where is Observer
Chakar?’ a young voice asked tremulously.

Babach lowered himself
to a stool and bent his head for a moment. Then he looked up
again.

‘Observer Chakar and
the Offering, Ren Salar, are in the Night Lands.’

This time there was no
silence only an increasing buzz of questions. Babach raised a
hand.

‘Voron, fetch the
scrolls if you would. I will explain all I can before we sleep. And
I will continue to sleep above, in the cottage. Let Cho Petak know
the Oblaka does not lie deserted.’

Voron promised himself
he would argue the old man out of that decision as he hurried to
fetch the maps and documents received from the Night Lands. Voron
had nothing but admiration and respect for Babach as he explained,
repeated, answered questions, without once raising his voice or
showing anything other than a serene patience. Voron knew the old
man was exhausted, angry and worried, yet no sign did he give of
those feelings. Finally it was Voron who could take no
more.

‘Enough for now,’ he
said, standing up, his hand on Babach’s shoulder. ‘We will all try
to sleep and begin again tomorrow. You must remember though, none
of you can leave the shelter of these caves without betraying your
presence to any who may be far watching. I will come to check the
injured throughout the night. Tomorrow we will arrange rotas for
necessary work – cooking, cleaning and so on, and the healers among
you must also work strict shifts. We are few: we must find the best
ways of living and working down here as quickly as we can. But now,
we all need to rest.’

He caught Lyeto’s eyes
and the student nodded, getting to his feet too and herding the
knots of young people out to their allotted sleeping quarters.
Voron helped Babach up, thinking how very young these survivors
seemed. He was only just past thirty and yet none of these could be
even twenty five.

After a broken night,
checking the badly burned patients and fretting over Babach’s
obstinate insistence on going up to the cottage, Voron rose before
dawn. He went quietly to the washing cave, then on to the viewing
ledge, his mind already occupied with what he had to do this day.
He turned onto the ledge and stopped abruptly.

A naked woman, long
grey hair tousled around her shoulders and back, lay slumped along
the inner cliff wall. Cautiously he approached and knelt beside
her. Strands of hair rippled as she breathed. Voron carefully
pushed her hair back and stared in disbelief at the unconscious
face of the Offering, Finn Rah. He raced back to his cubby hole
room, grabbed a quilt from the bed and rushed back to the ledge. He
wrapped the quilt over the woman’s shoulders, rolled her gently
towards him then scooped her up in his arms. She weighed next to
nothing as Voron hurried along to the first sitting room. Holding
his burden to his chest, he pulled cushions from the armchairs,
laid them before the fire and put Finn Rah upon them.

Poking the fire until
it brightened, he swung the kettle over it and turned back to the
woman. He laid the back of his hand to her cheek and frowned at the
chill he felt. He sped off for more covers from his own bed which
he piled around her, then sat waiting for the kettle to boil. He
was making berry tea when she groaned. He went back to her side,
raising her head and shoulders and pushing more cushions beneath.
Her face was drawn with exhaustion, her closed eyes shadowed and
dark. The eyelids fluttered open and green pupilled, silver eyes
stared up at him blankly.

‘Hush. You are at the
Oblaka. What’s left of the Oblaka that is,’ Voron heard himself
babbling and stopped. ‘How came you to be on the ledge? What can I
do to help you?’

‘You can give me some
tea, unless you have something stronger which would be
preferable.’

The voice was faint but
still held the acerbic tone Voron remembered from lectures he’d
attended in the Menedula.

‘I have nothing
stronger I’m afraid,’ Voron apologised, fetching the mug of tea he
had just poured for himself.

A thin hand reached
eagerly for the drink but trembled so violently that Voron had to
hold the mug as Finn Rah drank.

‘Where are Babach or
Chakar?’ she demanded, her voice stronger.

Voron sat back on his
heels. Clearly the Offering knew this system of caves beneath
Chakar’s cottage, but what should Voron tell her?

‘The truth please, at
once.’ Finn read his thoughts with no difficulty. ‘And more tea
while you’re about it.’

Slowly at first then
with gathering speed, Voron told her everything: everything from
the time of his close questioning by Master Krolik, and his
subsequent flight from the Menedula with Ren Salar, to the burning
of the Oblaka the previous night.

Finn Rah struggled
upright in the cocoon of covers Voron had wrapped her in. A quilt
slipped from her shoulder and she belatedly realised her
nakedness.

‘If you could find me a
shirt, trousers?’ she raised a brow at him.

‘Oh. Oh yes.’ Voron
went back to one of the many shallow caves he had seen packed with
just such items. He picked up two shirts at random and a pair of
soft woollen trousers. The first sounds came to him of others
beginning to stir in the newly opened rooms further on as he
trotted back to the sitting room.

He found Babach in
Chakar’s armchair talking earnestly to their newest arrival. Finn
took the clothes without a glance at them and dragged a shirt over
her head. Babach and Voron politely averted their eyes as she
pulled on the trousers. She stood up but swayed perilously and
Babach caught her, forcing her to sit back on the heap of bedding
by the fire.

Babach went to the
table, retrieving the maps and papers he had shown to the gathering
last night, and handed them wordlessly to Finn Rah.

‘We must check the
injured,’ the old man said to Voron.

Three of the eleven
most dreadfully burned had died and Babach gave murmured
instructions to Lyeto. He mentioned only vaguely that the Offering
Finn Rah had arrived here a few hours ago. He stressed that Finn
Rah was a deeply loved and trusted friend of both himself and
Observer Chakar when he glimpsed a few suspicious faces.

Voron and Babach
returned to their sitting room to find Finn Rah making more tea and
hooting companionably to Sava, who swayed from foot to foot in
delight on Chakar’s chair. Quietly, Finn recounted what she had
seen and heard in the Menedula before she fled. She told of several
burning farms and an entire village in flames.