Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series (20 page)

Zada smiled. ‘Of
course. It is jewellers’ market day in the Square. We can look at
some of the stalls if you wish.’

Gan suspected
jewellers’ stalls might hold considerably more interest for Zada
than they would for him but he amiably agreed.

‘I’ll come,’ Olam stood
up followed by Navan and Riff again.

Gan raised a
questioning brow towards Pallin and Sket. Both shook their
heads.

‘I’ll check my weapons
thank you sir, and good luck to you in that dreadful squash of folk
out there.’ Pallin scowled his disapproval.

The room was very quiet
when the four men had departed with Zada. There was the faintest
whisper from Pallin’s rag where he rubbed and oiled his knives and
sword. Maressa and Ren sat at a small table, engrossed in books,
and Sket was sitting near Leaf, quietly sorting through his bag of
remedies. Leaf sat on a high stool by an open window, her feet
swishing in a large bowl of warm salt water. Although they could
hear a buzz from the teeming masses in the City outside, it was
pleasantly hushed within this room.

Ren glanced up, about
to comment to Maressa on something he’d just read, and paused
before he spoke. He followed her gaze to Leaf, noting that Pallin
and Sket also sat still and silent, their eyes on the gijan. Leaf’s
feet still dabbled in the long cold bowl of water. Her left elbow
rested on the windowsill, her chin cupped in her hand. Along the
sill were several tiny birds. Ren had been vaguely aware of Leaf’s
trilling voice and imagined she was singing to herself but clearly,
she had an audience.

As Ren watched, Leaf’s
free hand moved towards a minute, blue feathered dumpling of a
bird. It hopped onto her finger and warbled softly when Leaf fell
silent. Leaf trilled again and a slightly larger brown bird perched
on her thumb. Its scarlet throat swelled as it twittered a
complicated melody. Birds were coming and going, some content to
stay on the outer sill, others perching confidently on Leaf’s hand
and arm.

The sound of voices and
feet in the passage outside caused every small bird to vanish and
Leaf turned away from the window as the door opened.

‘Zada led us to the
gate easily but I still don’t think I could find it myself.’ Navan
slumped into the nearest chair. ‘But then she took us to Dolphin
Square.’ He closed his eyes.

‘She said there are
probably over two hundred such Squares throughout this City,’ Olam
added with a groan. ‘Even with a map, it must be
impossible.’

‘It can’t be that
impossible,’ Gan pointed out reasonably enough. ‘The people who
live here have no trouble finding their way about.’

Ren had moved closer to
Leaf, watching Sket pat the gijan’s feet dry again. She tilted her
head at him.

‘The birds know
everywhere in this City, but they have different names for various
places.’

‘You were talking to
the birds?’ Ren asked.

Leaf frowned. ‘They are
my cousins. Do you not speak with your cousins?’

‘I have no cousins,’
Ren answered without thinking.

Leaf’s frown deepened.
‘But we are all related to each other somehow. I would call the
Dragon Kindred my uncles or aunts perhaps; so the birds are my
cousins.’

‘And Kephis?’ Ren was
curious.

Leaf smiled. ‘Also
cousins – of a sort.’

‘I have spoken with
Namolos again.’

Water swirled around in
the bowl below Leaf’s feet.

‘He knows of the
troubles Hariko mentioned last night.’

‘How does Namolos know
these things Grek? He is leagues to the west! The island of –
Wendla was it? – is leagues to the east. Is he truly so full of
power?’ asked Maressa.

‘He has power in a way
I have not seen before.’ Grek spoke slowly, weighing his words. ‘He
becomes the air, the soil, a current in the deepest seas. I don’t
know how he came by this skill. But he spoke of Wendla. A Ship such
as Star Dancer landed there, much damaged in the landing. The
Captain survived for about forty years. Her son was also on the
Ship. He married a Wendlan woman. Namolos told me the descendants
of the Captain’s son live longer than you would count usual but not
by much. So the Survivor now is many generations distant from the
Captain.’

‘The blood link then is
much diluted,’ Ren commented.

‘Namolos said the
Captain unbodied: her mind survives.’

Gan sat up straighter.
‘Her mind survives you say – can she manipulate events – is that
what Namolos believes or knows?’

‘All those with the
blood of the outworlders in their veins speak with the Captain
still. They know who she is and thus in part what, and who, they
are. Wendlan tradition was always for the mystical, the ascendancy
of mental processes. The unbodied Captain does not seem strange to
them.’

‘Is this Captain then
organising the attacks Hariko spoke of – on the trading
ships?’

Olam scratched at his
side by habit, and snatched his hand away guiltily as Pallin glared
at him.

‘Namolos says no. But
he thinks too many outside the direct bloodline have learnt to use
the same mental powers. He says the Captain – her name is Sefri –
would never have any part in an attack on merchant
ships.’

‘What is the name of
the Ship – is it still alive?’ asked Maressa.

‘Namolos said Sefri
dwells mostly within the Ship – Star Flower. He has touched their
minds occasionally and found them sad but still devoted to each
other.’

The company considered
Grek’s words in silence until Pallin began to bang dishes about in
the kitchen and suggested they come and eat the breakfast
leftovers.

Later Gan examined
Leaf’s feet at Sket’s request. He cut away the loose flaps of skin,
his long fingers surprisingly deft and gentle. ‘One of us will have
to carry you if we need to move from here before these are healed,’
he told her.

Ren watched, wincing
when Gan parted the toes to reveal more fat blisters as yet
unburst.

‘I wish I was skilled
at healing,’ he confessed.

‘Me too,’ Maressa
agreed. ‘We could make more salves though – Pallin and I collected
quite a lot of plants beside that lake. I’m afraid I’d
forgotten.’

She went off to find
her pack and disappeared with Pallin into the kitchen.

‘Grek?’ Ren enquired.
But there was no answer.

‘Where does he go all
the time?’ Olam wondered aloud.

‘He watches everything
around us,’ Khosa replied. ‘He takes his promise to Gremara very
seriously.’

Light slowly faded
beyond the windows and Taza and his wife arrived with more
food.

‘Are you sure you can
spare all this food?’ Maressa asked anxiously.

‘We still have
followers who give coin offerings at each ten day ritual. We put it
by so we may provide food or clothing to any who seek sanctuary.’
Zada unfolded a pair of trousers she’d held tucked under her arm.
‘If the sacred one would accept these?’

Leaf tilted her head.
Zada held up trousers, dark blue with pale blue flowers embroidered
round the bottom of each leg. The gijan smiled, taking the trousers
and holding them close to her cheek.

‘These are not clothes
you keep in a box for needy guests.’ Uptilted dark eyes studied
Zada steadily. ‘Thank your daughter for her beautiful work Zada.
One day she will be repaid.’

Zada flushed. Leaf
turned her back on the room, her wings hiding her body. When she
turned back she wore her new trousers with obvious
delight.

‘Sacred one, Salma is
making another pair for you. She is at the evening ritual
now.’

Leaf trilled her laugh.
‘Then you must bring her to meet me, so that I may thank her
properly.’

‘Really?’ Zada looked
at the faces watching her. ‘We have only told Salma I swear. She
will speak of your presence to none other. I will fetch
her.’

Ren and Maressa began
to question Taza on points they’d found difficult to decipher in
the books he’d lent them but the others watched Leaf. She lifted
each foot and studied the fine stitching at the bottom of each
trouser leg; she stretched her legs out before her, smiling at
seeing the trousers reached below her fragile ankles. Khosa leaned
against Gan’s thigh and, for the first time for very many days,
began her low buzzing croon as she too watched the
gijan.

‘Is she preening,
Khosa?’ Gan whispered.

‘Indeed.’ Khosa crooned
louder. ‘So pretty she is.’

Zada reappeared tugging
her daughter Salma by the hand. Hariko was behind them, clearly
confused. The young woman kept her head low, not daring to look at
anyone. Maressa went to her, putting an arm across her shoulders
and guiding her towards the gijan.

‘Come Salma dear. Leaf
is so thrilled with the fine trousers you’ve made her.’

But Salma had glimpsed
the ragged feet and gasped in sympathy. Her gaze moved slowly up,
up until she stared open mouthed. Leaf’s wings were half opened
revealing the delicate pink beneath the blue black top
feathers.

‘These are the
prettiest clothes I’ve ever had,’ Leaf told her with a trill of
laughter.

Salma appeared
speechless so it was as well that Khosa spoke, stalking towards the
door.

‘We will all go to the
roof now. Sket will carry Leaf.’

Sket looked mystified,
then suddenly grinned. Leaf furled her wings close to her back and
Sket carefully lifted her into his arms and followed Khosa. Maressa
chivvied Salma and her parents after them and soon everyone was on
the rooftop. A few stars showed in the dark sky but high clouds
were racing in from the direction of the coast.

Leaf gave a high peal
of pleasure, holding out her arms. Willow and Piper landed silently
beside Sket, enfolding him too as they embraced their sister. Gan
saw the faces of the three priests and the scholar Hariko and knew
this was a moment they would remember until they passed from this
life.

There was a flurry of
heavier wings and Farn settled precariously on the edge of the
roof, his eyes whirring in delight. Tika slid from his back and
bowed to the priests and the scholar.

Chapter
Twelve

Hariko took one pace
forward, trembling violently. ‘You spoke in my mind last night,’ he
blurted.

Tika’s lips smiled but
her eyes remained icy. ‘We did but warn you that we will always be
close enough to protect our friends.’

Her eyes softened when
she studied the three Harbour City priests. ‘The Kindred honour you
for keeping the Way of the Elders so faithfully and for so long in
their absence.’

Farn’s long face loomed
over her head. He pressed his brow to Taza’s, then to Zada’s and
lastly Salma.

‘More girls,’ he
remarked, to the confusion of the priests.

Tika ignored the
comment as she moved to the gijan. Sket grinned at her.

‘You’ll have to have a
serious talk with him Lady Tika,’ he murmured. ‘One of those
“girls” is fifty cycles at least.’

Tika gave a snort of
laughter before Maressa hugged her tight.

‘You are well Tika? I
miss your company.’

Tika hugged her back,
looking round Maressa’s shoulder at the rest of her
friends.

‘I apologise for my
weakness in the forest,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I beg you to
forgive my desertion.’

Her apology was met
with smiles and Maressa hugged her again. ‘There is no forgiveness
to grant you child. We love you,’ she said simply.

Tika blinked and then
bent to lift Leaf’s feet higher over Sket’s arm. Gan was the only
one to think of bringing a lamp when they’d climbed to the roof.
Now he held it above Leaf’s lower legs. Farn inched cautiously
along the roof until he was closer to his soul bond, peering down
to watch. Tika studied Leaf’s feet: they were severely torn. If she
was left to heal naturally it could be days before new skin
toughened sufficiently to walk on for any length of time. Part of
her mind was aware of the scholar, Hariko Vos Nornay, watching her
closely.

She detached herself,
holding one delicate high arched foot between her hands. She sent
tendrils of healing to the gijan, speeding the natural processes
and strengthening the fibres of new skin as they formed. Hariko’s
breath hissed through his teeth. The blisters between Leaf’s toes
shrank, the pale lavender sores around the heel slowly disappeared
under new skin dappled green and gold. Gently, Tika lifted the
other foot and repeated the process. She was astonished how easy it
seemed.

‘This is the first time
you have done a minor healing,’ Khosa whispered in her
mind.

Tika realised the Kephi
was right. The other healings she had done had been for Farn and to
extract the gijan’s wings – never had she healed a small hurt. Tika
stood back, leaning against Farn’s chest for comfort rather than
support. The healing had taken scarcely any strength.