Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series (10 page)

Chapter
Six

If anything, the heat
was even worse throughout the next day. Sleep proved impossible
even for Riff and Pallin. The company became ever more concerned at
the condition of the gijan. Tika and Maressa gave half their own
water ration to the nearly unconscious creature. Sket worried that
there would not be enough of Lorak’s salve to last the length of
their journey, especially if the remaining two gijan
succumbed.

At first those two
still relatively fit, had refused any but Tika to open their
brother’s shirt. Eventually, they allowed Sket and Maressa to work
on his exposed chest but adamantly insisted that the hood and mask
remain in place. Tika found the gijan’s body was as dappled as his
hands, with odd octagonal patterning etched in faint lines of gold
and green. There were also four sets of closely paired nipples down
the centre of his chest and upper stomach. When she and Maressa
gently turned the gijan onto his side to work on his back, they
could only stare.

Hot swellings on each
side of his upper spine stretched the skin painfully taut. The two
gijan kneeling with Tika moaned softly then one began a soft
trilling song. It faltered a couple of times but gradually seemed
to gain in confidence and his song steadied and strengthened. Khosa
squeezed between Tika and the singing gijan and sat staring
unblinkingly at the prostrate gijan’s back. Turquoise eyes flicked
up to Tika’s face.

‘They have forgotten,’
she said, sadness in her mind voice.

‘Forgotten
what?’

‘They have forgotten
the songs. There were many songs I think which had to be sung in a
particular order. And there is no elder to sing to them. These are
litter mates. This one seems to have trace memories of the singing
rites but he does not know them all or the order in which to sing
them.’

‘Do you not know the
songs Khosa?’

Khosa moved out of
their way. ‘Only Namolos just might know now. There are no elders
left with the memories.’

Tika winced, both at
Khosa’s words and at the heat from her egg pendant. Impatiently she
pulled it free of her shirt and bent to soothe Lorak’s salve over
the gijan’s hot skin. The three Qwah ignored the gijan completely,
looking anywhere but directly at the tiny creatures. Kirat had told
them that the first days in the southern desert would be hard – he
had been only too accurate. By the time they halted at dawn on the
sixth day and set up their camp, all of Tika’s party were exhausted
except for the Dragons. But the heat that day was fractionally less
severe.

Halfway through the
next night Storm called in urgent distress, losing height rapidly
to settle on the sand. Ren, Sket and Navan rode back to the sea
Dragon even as the other Dragons landed amid flurries of sand. Gan
strode from Seela to Storm, scooping a second gijan into his arms
and laying him gently across his lap. The same blisters were
cracking across this gijan’s chest as had happened with the
first.

‘You go on after the
others,’ Gan ordered Ren and Navan. ‘Sket will stay with us now but
you cannot fall too far behind those star cursed Qwah.’

Navan took Sket’s horse
and with Ren cantered after the disappearing cavalcade.

‘Storm, I think it best
if this last gijan rides with Maressa and Brin. Should he collapse
too, he would surely fall to his death unless someone was there to
hold him secure.’

Storm shifted from foot
to foot, faceted eyes whirring in agitation.

‘It would be best,’
Farn murmured, twining his neck around Storm’s. ‘When they are
recovered, they can return to you.’

Tika felt tears
threaten. Farn had no idea what a desperate plight two of the gijan
were in, his chief concern at this moment was to offer comfort to
his friend’s unhappiness. Sket was carefully wrapping the second
gijan’s tiny body in its white cloak. Gan stood up, the gijan
looking like a mere baby in his arms. Seela turned her head,
studying the gijan closely, then she looked towards
Brin.

‘Fly on Brin, until you
are free of these lands. Tell us how far you have to fly before you
find water. For water is what these poor little ones
need.’

Maressa had been unable
to estimate even with her abilities as an air mage, how far the
desert extended. She had told how great storms of whirling dust
clouds blocked her vision to the south. Brin waited until Maressa
had lifted the third gijan onto his back and had climbed up
herself. Then he was in the air, speeding after the horse riders,
and was quickly lost to sight against the star filled
sky.

When they stopped for
the day’s shelter and rest, Pallin came to help work on the two
nearly comatose gijan. He muttered and clucked as he worked and
after watching his surprisingly gentle hands moving over the gijan,
Tika left him and slumped against Farn’s side. Khosa crouched next
to her.

‘Will they live
Khosa?’

‘They are so weak and
frail yet so much rests upon them.’ Khosa’s voice sounded distant,
as if she spoke to herself rather than to Tika.

Two more nights and
days passed before Brin bespoke Seela. She immediately passed word
to Tika who could scarcely keep awake, clasping an inert gijan in
front of her on Farn’s back.

‘Brin has found water.
He shows me the direction by the stars and also by the land. Should
we go to him now Tika?’

Tika’s mind was blurred
with exhaustion. ‘Wait until Kirat calls a halt. If we can try and
rest well tomorrow, then we will decide.’

When Kirat did at last
stop at daybreak, Tika nearly dropped the gijan she carried,
stumbling from Farn’s back in a daze. Navan was beside her
instantly, one arm round her waist, the other taking the gijan from
her. She swayed, her legs buckling, and Navan had no difficulty in
pushing her down against an anxious Farn. She struggled to regain
her feet then Ren’s face hung over her.

‘Sleep,’ was all he
said, and she did, helped by a tendril of compulsion from both the
Offering and from Seela.

When Tika awoke at
sunset, she found the decisions had been made without her. The
Dragons would hurry ahead and the five horsemen would catch up as
they could. It was deemed prudent for Ren to stay with the group
led by the Qwah – he could far speak better than Olam so would take
guidance from the Dragons as to their location. Accordingly, Gan
approached Kirat when the camp was struck.

‘Some of us must part
company with you Kirat. Several of us will take the gijan on with
the Dragons much faster than if we hold back to the speed of your
horses. We appreciate your knowledge of these fierce lands and
thank you for guiding us thus far.’

Kirat stared at Lady
Emla’s Captain of Guards. ‘You risk your lives going unguided, and
for what?’ He flicked a contemptuous glance to where the two gijan
lay. ‘I told you that they are only seen in the inner part of our
City – if they venture from there, they are killed like the vermin
they are.’

Gan’s face remained
expressionless. ‘You are entitled to your opinion Kirat, but it is
OUR opinion that the gijan are living, intelligent beings, at
present in dire need of help. We intend to offer them that
help.’

Kirat’s hand rested on
the hilt of the curved blade that hung from his belt and Olam
shifted his position as Hadjay and Sirak moved to flank their
brother.

‘The Survivors
commanded you to guide us I think.’ Gan inclined his head slightly.
‘Our friends still have need of your skills. Perhaps we will meet
again beyond this desert but if not, again I thank you.’

Keeping his hands clear
of his own sword and dagger, Gan turned slowly away from the Qwah.
For a moment there was a tense stillness beneath the awning. Then
Hadjay spat noisily and a gobbet of phlegm landed very close to
Gan’s boot. He ignored it and simply stooped to lift one of the
gijan. Olam accompanied Gan to Seela’s side.

‘Watch carefully Olam,’
Gan whispered. ‘I think maybe the Survivors’ orders don’t hold so
firm this far from the City. It would be easy to report an
“accident” in a storm or some such. Keep watch my
friend.’

He reached down from
Seela’s back and clasped Olam’s forearm in farewell. ‘We should
meet in two to three days by my reckoning, but take care and watch
those Qwah.’

The three Dragons
lifted skywards and Seela bespoke them all. ‘There is a risk in
this. We must fly fast to get as close to Brin as we can before the
sun rises.’ She turned her head towards Farn and Storm. ‘You must
tell me when you need to rest. It will not help us if you fly to
your limit and then need time to recover. We can halt as many times
as you need.’ Her eyes flashed in the starlight. ‘Now hatchlings –
let us find Brin.’

Tika preferred not to
remember that flight later: twice they landed before dawn and then,
with the sun rising, so did the dust and sand. They huddled on the
ground, the few rocks insufficient shelter for an adult great
Dragon. Seela spread her wings, hooking the talons on the wing
edges into the hard ground, and ducked her head under her chest,
offering what cover she could for the three humans, two gijan and
two young Dragons.

When the strange
rattling and shrieking wind finally passed, Seela’s back scales
were scored with scratches and her leathery wings bleeding in
places. She dismissed Tika’s concern.

‘The sun is higher than
I would wish but one more effort will get us to Brin.’

That last burst of
energy through the hottest part of the day, exhausted and
frightened Storm and Farn, but just as they thought they could go
no further, they heard Brin’s bass trumpeting, and saw the crimson
Dragon ahead of them beside a long narrow stretch of water. Tika
was terrified when they landed. She gave the gijan she carried
straight into Maressa’s arms and turned her attention to
Farn.

Like Storm, the silver
blue Dragon had sunk to his belly, his neck and head extended along
the ground. His whole body trembled and his half closed eyes were
dull. Sket was already searching through the pouches and pots in
his satchel for the herbs provided by Lorak, and he hurried to the
small fire Maressa had burning. He noticed, as he mixed pinches of
herbs with water from the hot can over the fire, the third gijan
lay motionless in the small shade of a boulder. Khosa, released
from her sack, crouched beside that gijan, bristling with
concern.

‘Stars, what a mess,’
Sket muttered, stirring the herbs with a grimy
fingertip.

He took the bowl to
Farn and helped Tika force half the contents into Farn’s mouth.
They repeated the procedure with Storm. Brin watched, his eyes
whirring dark rose.

‘There is prey not far
from here – I will fetch food for you all.’

He lifted away from
them as Sket turned his attention to Seela’s torn wings. Farn and
Storm were asleep where they lay before Brin returned with two
goats. Gan hoped fervently they were wild goats: he did not feel up
to dealing with irate farmers right now.

The sun was setting
again by the time Tika was sure she had done all she could for the
Dragons. She sank down by the fire, gratefully accepting a bowl of
tea from Sket, and for the first time took note of her
surroundings. She hadn’t realised they had left the desert. Behind
their tiny camp, sheer cliffs rose higher than any she’d seen on
the coast. Maressa smiled.

‘The desert just came
to an end. I have not managed to see any sort of trail up or down
those cliffs. The ground just drops away and the desert is out of
sight – as if it doesn’t exist.’

‘Oh it exists all
right!’ Tika said with feeling and a rueful smile.

The long narrow lake
beside which they camped was fed by water welling presumably from
somewhere in the cliffs to the north. How water could come from
beneath such barren and sterile desert was a mystery to Tika and
Sket at least. Tika was tearfully relieved to find that both Farn
and Storm were back to their normal spirits next morning, eager for
the meat Brin had brought while they’d slept.

The state of the gijan
gave Tika pause: all three were unconscious. Maressa managed to get
small drops of water into them by gently massaging their throats to
make them swallow reflexively. She had also removed the hoods and
masks and Tika stared at her first sight of gijan faces. Broad
across the forehead narrowing to sharply pointed chins, short
straight noses and the now familiar dappled skin. Their hair was as
black as Tika’s own but it rooted from their skulls down into a
vee, ending at the top of their spines. Their ears were upswept,
set further back than Tika would have said was usual, but they
emphasised the similarity to Mim once again.

‘If only we knew what’s
wrong with them,’ Maressa said, wringing out another piece of cloth
and spreading it on a gijan chest.

Tika scanned the area
for Khosa, eventually seeing her crouched between Seela’s enormous
feet.

‘It seems to me Khosa
that you at least have spoken to this Namolos. Can you not ask him
what we should do? You say the gijan must reach him – they are too
ill now for us to move them even a league further.’