Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series (64 page)

She felt nothing as she
grasped an arm and pulled. Then pain forced scream after scream
through her bitten mouth, but she held on, tugging the child from
her. For the space of three heartbeats she stared at the thing she
had grown within her. Slime and gore covered as it was, it was
laughing, its wide mouth open, showing tiny sharp teeth. For three
heartbeats, each slower, weaker than the last, Orla stared into its
narrow slanted eyes.

With what she knew was
the very last of her life, she moved her other hand round its neck,
attempting to crush the life from this abomination she had
contributed towards making. It laughed aloud, a high pitched
cackle, and twisted one of her hands free with no apparent effort.
It sank its teeth into her other hand and she heard her own bones
crunch in its jaws. Orla felt the last faint bump of her pulse and
life winked out of her eyes. The fire continued to blaze, Qwah
thinking his child might like to see properly for a
while.

Karlesh climbed towards
Orla’s face, smearing his fingers across her bloody mouth. He
licked his fingers and giggled, bending his head to tear a lump of
flesh from her breast. He sucked the blood from the gobbet, chewing
only a little of the flesh. He slithered back down to the puddles
of blood pooling under Orla’s hips and lapped thirstily. He
belched, peering over Orla’s thigh towards the men sitting
motionless between him and the outside world.

‘They will feed you
until you are strong enough to leave this place my son.’ Qwah’s
voice rang with pride.

The child stared at a
spot halfway up the cave wall, straight into Qwah’s eyes in
fact.

‘You are so thoughtful
father,’ Karlesh replied, sucking a finger, the picture of childish
perfection to the doting Qwah.

Behind his veiled eyes,
Karlesh studied the threads of his father’s being. What a primitive
he was!

Chapter
Thirty-Six

Namolos was exhausted.
He had been locked in mental combat with a mind utterly alien to
any he had encountered, for far too long. He knew his wife,
colleagues and students would be doing everything possible to
sustain his body until his mind returned. But that body was
weakening fast. It was an interesting problem. If his body died his
mind paradoxically would be stronger. If his mind was thus
strengthened, he knew there was a good chance of him damaging the
other mind badly enough to win his own release.

Grek had told him of
those called the Bound Ones. Namolos had sensed these entities,
secure within their confining spells, centuries ago when first he
began to travel within the very fabric of the world. He had
recognised them as purely evil energy and had thereafter avoided
the sites of their imprisonment. He was deeply alarmed when Grek
told him what was happening in Malesh and in the desert which
separated Malesh from the Sapphrean plains, but by that time he had
already encountered the other mind.

He had to decide
quickly and knowing Tika, Farn and Khosa were already placed to
intervene against the Bound Ones, he chose to send his mind north.
Namolos was taken completely by surprise. One moment he had been
part of the air, an insignificant particle among a million others,
and the next he had slammed into conflict. He had long known of the
power of names. He had listened to the wise ones of the island on
which he’d landed with his family. At first, in spite of his
serious, attentive expression, he had scoffed privately at their
simplistic beliefs. But over time he saw what those simple beliefs
could achieve.

Slowly, Namolos and his
wife learnt, and were stunned by the immense power simplicity could
produce. His daughters learnt more quickly, each showing an
aptitude for different aspects of the wise ones’ teachings. The
concept of naming had been one of the hardest for Namolos to fully
understand but when he did, he was awed by the conclusions it might
lead to. Now, if he only knew the name, the true name, of this
creature he was locked with, he would have more than just hope with
which to fight it. That the creature did not know Namolos was a
huge relief, but it seemed to have a completely different mental
configuration to any Namolos had come across.

He had slid through the
waters of the immense seas, listening to the tiniest polyps and to
the greatest whales. He had overheard the great female Avgoor
talking to the sea Dragon Storm and also to Tika. Star Dancer had
first picked up the anomaly which Namolos found was a malignancy
poisoning this beautiful world of Kel-Harat. While it grew
extraordinarily slowly, he had yet been unable to pinpoint its
exact position. The Ship had only discovered slight energy changes,
but they moved, never appearing to remain in the same place long
enough for Namolos to approach.

Namolos had discussed
his findings with the wise ones of the island and they had evinced
alarm verging on disabling fear. They refused to discuss it further
with him so he was left to increase his abilities in far travelling
and search it out himself. Abesh and their daughters, analysing
Namolos’s findings piece by piece, had agreed that whatever this
creature was, it had to be found and disabled, if not destroyed.
The Ships still in harmonic orbit had been unable to trace
Namolos’s creature. They concluded that Star Dancer’s receptors
were altered in some way when she made her descent through the
atmosphere, making her more susceptible to local energy
fields.

Dancer ran systems
diagnostics of increased subtlety and agreed with her sibling
Ships. Namolos now understood that the very slowness of the
creature’s growth and advance had been the cause of his grave
misjudgement of the situation: he had assumed there was plenty of
time to deal with it. Approximately four centuries ago the activity
of the malignant energy began to accelerate, taking Namolos by
surprise. His daughters left the island, determined to help prevent
this creature destroying the only world they’d ever known. While
time was insignificant to Namolos, it still seemed too long to be
without his children and he had been able to contact only one of
them, and that only briefly once in this past year. She had seen
her sister she told him, but could no longer contact her anymore,
than either of them could contact him.

It was many days since
Namolos had felt the destruction of Valesh, the reverberations of
that event shivering through his mind. It was in the aftermath that
he found the entity he so feared had split itself – one part was on
the great land mass east of his island which contained the lands of
Sapphrea and Malesh. The other part was still in the second
continent on the opposite side of the planet. Namolos felt that
most of the creature – the older, more knowing part of its essence,
was in the further land. That must be his target now; it had to
be.

He despaired that he
had no means of warning those brave children of what they must now
face, particularly the child Tika whose existence he had worked so
hard and patiently to bring about. The unbodied Grek had vanished.
Namolos suspected he had returned to the lands of Drogoya and
become assimilated or destroyed by the thing which, in this
particular time, on this particular world, called itself Cho
Petak.

The Ships in orbit had
reported other signs of an intelligent energy pattern. In turn,
Namolos investigated and although also alien to anything he knew,
he found it was benign and quiescent. The orbiting Ships told
Dancer that the second life form had become more active of late –
within the last planetary year. Namolos decided he could wait no
longer and after telling Elka he was far travelling indefinitely
and that no attempt must be made to recall him, he sank his
consciousness into the very being of Kel-Harat.

And now twenty days had
elapsed as all his household were all too aware. Namolos held one
grain of comfort: locked as they were, the other mind could focus
on nothing other than trying to free itself. It would be a small
price to pay, Namolos felt, if his life could neutralise this
threat to his world.

Tika and her friends
had very little warning of the fire which seemed to sweep from
horizon to horizon. While there was only a knee high coarse grass
on which to feed, the fire reached upwards several times higher
than Brin. Jakri suspected an illusion, the type of spell he had
used himself only a couple of days earlier, but it was quickly
apparent that the fire was real enough. It sped towards them, the
outer ends curving in to encircle them.

The Dragons lifted into
the air bearing the companions high to avoid the hungry grasp of
the flames. As they flew over the fire, the heat was intense. They
put more distance between themselves and Orla’s camp, racing
through the night towards the hills. They found a sheltered meadow,
overlooked by steeper slopes, and settled to rest. Ren was
convinced they had not been seen rising above the flames and he
believed they now had an advantage. Valesh’s brother would think
he’d been successful and had lost his pursuers.

Jakri was inclined to
agree although both Gan and Sket expressed doubts. Maressa let her
mind soar into the higher atmosphere and the others waited
patiently for the air mage’s report. She blinked and smiled at the
faces watching her expectantly.

‘Ren’s right. There is
no sign at all of him taking any sort of care now. Orla rides
towards the hills, perhaps ten leagues east of us. There is no
sense of a shield or wardings, no disturbed air around
her.’

Navan had collected a
few small desiccated bushes and suggested making a fire. Gan
scowled.

‘Smoke is an obvious
giveaway,’ he said firmly.

‘Nonsense,’ Maressa
overrode him. ‘By the time any smoke gets above these slopes, it
will have dissipated enough to be invisible.’

‘One of you should keep
close watch on Orla,’ Gan insisted and with that Maressa had no
argument.

Tika was surveying the
meadow. ‘This seems as good a place as any to wait,’ she
announced.

Sket grunted but Tika
ignored him.

‘I have a feeling they
will rest for a few days once they feel they are safely hidden
among these hills. Don’t forget how far and how hard they’ve ridden
lately. Their horses must be near exhaustion and from what we
heard, this is Orla’s first trip ever outside the Domes. She must
surely be at the limit of her endurance.’

‘What do you suggest?’
Gan demanded.

‘That we wait,’ Tika
repeated. ‘If Brin could be ready to shield us at any moment?’ She
waited for the crimson Dragon’s assent in her mind. ‘The rest of us
can take turns watching where Orla’s heading and where she
stops.’

‘Then?’ Gan
pressed.

She smiled at Lady
Emla’s Captain of Guards. ‘Then I will do what I must.’

Akomi butted against
her leg and she scratched the old cat behind his ears. Khosa had
stalked off towards the nearest slope. They were all wary of using
Qwah’s name and referred to him only as Valesh’s brother but they
felt he was somehow less than Valesh. Tika was sure that Valesh
would not have cast the fire spell without returning to check on
its success or otherwise: Qwah had apparently simply assumed they
could not survive his circle of flames.

They spent an idle day,
Maressa and Jakri taking turns to overlook Orla’s
progress.

‘There’s something
wrong with Orla,’ the Wendlan remarked after his latest turn of far
watching.

‘What?’ asked Farn. His
eyes whirred rapidly, indicative of anxiety.

Storm slept quietly
leaning against Brin’s flank.

‘I can’t make out,’
Jakri apologised. ‘They are travelling much more slowly. I get the
feeling she has a fever.’

‘Is he still with her
though? Tika asked.

‘Oh yes, more
concentrated around her than before I’d say Mistress.’

‘What is it he wants
with Orla?’ Tika fretted. ‘She has no mental powers: she regarded
them as tricks, foolish games. Both she and Kertiss ridiculed the
idea of such things. So why does he need her with him?’

There was a
considerable silence while they pondered why a Bound One might need
the company of a Survivor, but no one came up with any solution.
Farn was restless, pacing round the meadow every now and then, his
gaze rarely leaving Tika.

‘He wasn’t like this
before Lady,’ Sket murmured. ‘Not when we went off to that witch
woman’s place. And I’m clean out of the mixture Lorak gave us to
keep Farn calm. I could make up something from the herbs Ammi gave
us in Green Shade, but it wouldn’t be the same as Lorak’s and I
don’t know how it might affect the youngster.’

‘Don’t worry Sket. I
think it’s partly something that Brin said to him.’

Tika stood up and
walked over to the silver blue Dragon, sliding her arms round his
shoulders and pressing her face against the scar that wound down
his long neck. Brin’s face lowered towards Sket.

‘I will protect him,
Dragon friend. Never forget that I will protect him, even as you
protect his soul bond.’

Brin’s mind tone was
sombre and quite frankly, rather than comforting Sket, he found
himself more perturbed than ever. Jakri and Gan were asleep. Ren
and Navan were investigating a small pool some short way up the
western slopes, with Khosa following them with interest. Sket’s
hand went instinctively to his sword as Ren suddenly straightened,
clutching Navan’s arm, but he relaxed again when the two men bent
once more to the pool. Tika and Farn wandered back, Farn appearing
calmer to Sket’s experienced eye. Tika turned to Sket just as he
turned, frowning, to her.