Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series (46 page)

Ren and Voron stared at
each other, finding it difficult to imagine a young Babach, with a
mother. The same thought struck them both at the same moment and
they turned to Babach.

He chuckled. ‘You are
thinking how could an old Observer become a mother? Well, my mother
was made Offering when she was younger than either of you. She had
shall we say, a strong difference of opinion with the Sacrifice.
She decided to resign her position rather than be retired from it
and came here to live, far removed from the Menedula. I was born a
few years later.’

Ren began to feel
queasy. ‘Who was Sacrifice at that time Babach?’

Babach’s silver eyes
with their faded blue pupils gazed at Ren steadily. ‘Cho Petak of
course. Ren, you were supposed to be concentrating on the history
of the Order: you must have worked out just how long Cho has been
our Sacred One?’

There was a most
unusual hint of bitterness in Babach’s last words. Then he dropped
the subject to speak instead of Oblaka.

‘Legend has it that
Dalena, Sedka’s wife, was born somewhere around here. That even as
a small child she had a great affinity with the land. Stories are
still told, here at least, of birds and animals coming to her quite
fearlessly. Tales of her healing powers, which she freely used for
any who asked. She bred different strains of corn and a hardier
form of bean, called by her name to this day. She left here to seek
new plants, and it was on those travels that she met Sedka. They
had a daughter, born in Sedka’s Meadow, whom they named Myata. When
Myata was old enough, Dalena sent her back here where, so it is
believed, she began the building of this House.’

Babach watched Voron
take the final chunk of bread from the tray.

‘If you spend much time
here among the Observers and students, you may notice that they
call on Dalena and Myata more frequently than on Sedka.’

‘Students? Here?’
Voron’s question was somewhat muffled.

Babach smiled. ‘Yes,
there are students here. Students who have never, and will never,
set foot within the Menedula.’

He stood up. ‘If you
have eaten enough, shall we go?’

Ren hoisted his saddle
bags over his shoulder and followed Babach. The old Observer’s
words had not calmed him in the slightest, quite the opposite in
fact.

Once more Babach dived
into the maze of outer passages and inner corridors until they
found themselves right outside the complex of buildings that was
the Oblaka. The sea was to their left as they followed a narrow
path along the cliff, pushed and buffeted by the sea wind. A sharp
turn to their right and a steep downward flight of stone steps
brought them to a sheltered hollow eerily quiet as the roar of the
wind in their ears suddenly ceased.

A tiny cottage squatted
at the bottom of the steps: built of the same dark stone as the
Oblaka and with a slate roof. A short central chimney sent up a
neat line of smoke until it reached the height of the clifftop and
the wind tore it to shreds. Babach led them to the cottage and they
saw that the hollow opened out further to their right, revealing a
vegetable plot and a pen holding two black goats. A hen scrambled
under the old man’s feet as he opened the door for Ren and
Voron.

Both younger men noted
the thickness of the stone wall as they went through the door. It
was apparent at once that most of the single storey dwelling was
taken up by this first room. A fire glowed in the hearth, a kettle
hung above it and a small oven was set into the side of the
chimney. Papers, books and scrolls littered a table while a large
frying pan occupied a chair.

Along the windowsill
sat a row of pots. Several held pale leafed plants which had put
forth minute delicate blue and white flowers. Although so small,
their heady scent filled the room. Shelves stretched across the
wall separating the main living room from what Ren assumed would be
their host’s bedroom. Jars and boxes were crammed on the shelves
with odd pieces of rock, shells, dried flowers, and a stuffed
owl.

Babach crouched by the
fire, poking at it until it began to blaze. Voron and Ren exchanged
glances. It seemed a trifle cramped if four people were to be
living here for any length of time. Ren shrugged and put his bags
on the end of a long bench beside the door. Voron was doing the
same with his saddlebags when the inner door opened.

A tiny woman stood
there. Her hair was white as frost but hung in a still-thick braid
over the front of her shoulder. Her eyes were silvered with pupils
of darkest green. Unlike Babach’s white robe, she wore trousers and
jerkin like Ren and Voron.

‘Voron can cook,’
Babach announced at once, clapping Voron on the back.

‘Well that’s a relief,’
the woman said drily. ‘I am Chakar, and as you are
Voron-who-can-cook, you must be Offering Ren Salar?’

Ren bowed to the
woman.

‘I thank you for
extending your hospitality to us, Observer Chakar,’ he began. He
stopped, mouth open, as the stuffed owl dropped onto Chakar’s
shoulder and nibbled her ear. Huge eyes blinked alternately at
Ren.

A smile tugged at the
corner of Chakar’s lips. ‘This is Sava. He fell from his nest when
only a few days hatched, so I became his parent.’ She moved toward
the table and picked up a book while Sava extended his wings
hurriedly to maintain his balance. ‘It has its drawbacks,’ she
continued. ‘He refuses to go away and be a proper owl. I suggest
you bring your bags and we will show you where you will be staying.
Then you can allow your shielding to lapse Ren.’

Ren and Voron retrieved
their packs in some confusion but followed Chakar to the inner
door. As Ren had surmised, there was a narrow bed in the much
smaller room, yet more shelves overflowing with odd relics and
papers, and a faded rug covered the stone floor at the bedside.
Babach squeezed in behind Voron and closed the door, grinning at
the expressions on their faces.

Chakar touched a
smaller stone, set slightly aslant in the wall, and a floor slab
silently dropped a fraction then slid sideways out of sight. Chakar
smiled at her new guests and, with Sava still on her shoulder,
climbed down a ladder and vanished below the floor. Babach waved at
Voron to follow, then Ren.

The space below was
even more cramped than the room above and the fading daylight
filtering down revealed they were in a small cellar. Judging by the
smells, various root vegetables and fruit preserves were stored
here. Ren and Voron could just see Chakar again touch a stone in
the wall and a row of shelves swung away from them. At the same
time, the slab closed smoothly over their heads. As it did so, Ren
felt a tingling pass over and through him.

Following Chakar, he
saw with disbelief, that he was in a large room – far bigger and
cosier than the rooms above. The room was lit by oil lamps and a
fire. Chakar met his eyes.

‘The fire here is
connected to the one above – as you guess. And your shielding is
not needed now. Mine is permanent in here. So, welcome to my
home.’

Emla was inconsolable
for some time after she heard of Alya’s dying words. She had known
that her brother had committed despicable and loathsome acts while
he was the Guardian of the North. But she had not truly believed,
in her innermost heart, that he was irretrievably flawed and her
brother no longer. Now she did. She was grateful for the wordless
sympathy offered by Maressa and Kallema. They also gave her the
strength to put aside her grief and fury to concentrate on how her
knowledge of Rhaki might possibly be of use.

When she finally felt
able to function calmly once more, she requested that she be
permitted to send word to Gaharn and the Stronghold, outlining her
conviction of Rhaki’s involvement in the affliction besetting the
Vagrantians. It was three days after Alya’s death that a scroll
appeared from Kera in the North.

Now Thryssa sat with
the Speakers and councillors while they discussed the import of
this latest message. Emla sat beside Thryssa as guest of the High
Speaker. Alya’s chair remained empty. Emla was careful to keep her
thoughts hidden when she saw Thryssa for the first time since Alya
had died. The High Speaker’s dark red hair seemed more liberally
speckled with white, and black shadows ringed the hazel
eyes.

Kera’s news of the
arrival of a giant bird from a land on the opposite side of this
world was amazing enough. The information Babach sent concerning
the large numbers of his people who suffered the same symptoms as
the Vagrantians, was terrifying. Babach was as mystified as they
were by its appearance and growing prevalence in his land of
Drogoya.

The papers from Kera
had been copied by Cordivan scribes and now lay spread across the
council table.

‘Dessi seems adamant
that there must be some cause, or source, in Drogoya. Kera says she
will not be moved from this opinion. And Dessi herself writes,’
Emla paused to scuffle through the many papers until she found the
one she wanted. ‘Dessi writes that she thinks something like
Gremara’s screams for her Dragon Lord could have come from Drogoya,
triggering this illness in both lands. She says she thinks Rhaki’s
mind may have amplified, relayed, or distorted the mind scream from
Drogoya.’

Emla looked up from the
paper and around at the faces turned to her.

‘I have told you of the
deaths and damage caused among the people of the Domain, Gaharn,
and even Sapphrea, when Gremara had her last outburst. I believe
Dessi is on the right track, but someone has to trace the source in
Drogoya. So far, Kera has not sent a reply to this Babach. I
suggest you, we, compose a letter, setting forth Dessi’s ideas, and
while we try to deal with Rhaki here, Babach takes action in
Drogoya.’

Orsim of Kedara,
Jilla’s father, stirred. ‘Is there no way of approaching Rhaki, and
asking his forbearance?’

Lashek answered before
Emla could speak. ‘Some are born, as we must surely remember, who
have no morality or forbearance within them.’

The earth mage appeared
unusually sombre, but Emla knew that five cases had been reported
from Segra Circle this morning. All of them with red
eyes.

Orsim sighed. ‘You are
right of course Lashek. From what Lady Emla has told us of Rhaki,
there would be little point in trying to appeal to a better nature
which blatantly does not exist.’

‘What of this child of
whom you have spoken, Emla?’ Kallema murmured the question. ‘Tika
was her name I believe. You say she joined minds with a Great
Dragon. Is she not able to do something about Rhaki? She is close
to where he is living at this moment is she not?’

Emla’s green eyes
flickered down to her hands briefly. Fear was still evident in them
when she raised her head to reply.

‘The Nagum boy, Mim,
who also soul bonded to a Great Dragon, and is Gremara’s Dragon
Lord, forbids Tika to attempt contact with Rhaki.’ Emla spread her
open hands helplessly. ‘I do not know on what he bases this order,
but Kera tells me he was desperate that Tika be stopped from making
any effort to face Rhaki yet.’

‘I have a suggestion.’
Lashek ended the silence that followed Emla’s words. ‘We should
send two of our people through the circles to the Stronghold, as
Jilla and Bagri have gone to Gaharn. Face to face discussions will
throw up more ideas than this sending of written
messages.’

All in the room were
listening closely. Lashek fixed his gaze on Thryssa.

‘Forgive my
presumption, my dear, but I feel sure you must have records of
where all our circles were located. Now is the time to disclose
those locations Thryssa, especially the ones that must exist in
Sapphrea.’

Thryssa rubbed her eyes
wearily. ‘I will have the maps retrieved and copied directly. Who
shall we ask to go – this is not something I will
order.’

‘Maressa?’ Orsim looked
at his councillor.

She paled slightly but
nodded. ‘I will go.’

Lashek’s councillor and
nephew, Imshish, raised his hand. ‘I also offer to go.’

‘Then it is agreed.’
Thryssa sounded unutterably tired but Emla took one of the
Speaker’s hands and pressed it to her own forehead.

‘I must go too Thryssa,
and I would ask that one other accompanies us.’

Thryssa caught her
breath. ‘No. Oh no. Emla, do not ask for her.’

But Emla held Thryssa’s
hand tight when the Speaker would have drawn back from
her.

‘If Elyssa is willing,
and only if she is willing, I think it will help my people
understand better something of what we too may have to
face.’

Thryssa felt the other
Speakers’ agreement to Emla’s proposal murmur through her mind. She
bowed her head for a moment.

‘If Elyssa agrees, so
be it. But protect her as well as you can Lady Emla, I beg of
you.’

The formality of the
meeting disintegrated, Imshish moving round the table to speak to
Maressa. Thryssa went quietly from the room and all knew she had
gone to talk with Elyssa and her parents. Kwanzi entered with
refreshments, eventually arriving at Emla’s side.

‘I heard,’ he spoke
softly. ‘I think you are correct in asking for Elyssa’s company.
But my poor Thryssa is in such pain over all this.’