Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series (53 page)

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Authors: E.M. Sinclair

Tags: #epic, #fantasy, #adventure, #dragons, #magical

BOOK: Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series
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‘She’s right!’ he
exclaimed in excitement. ‘It is under the earth about so deep.’ He
spread his hands apart to indicate the depth. ‘We must clear it by
dawn. Spades?’

Raben’s Armschief Zekel
barked orders and men rushed back to camp, returning with spades
and picks. Kemti refused the picks.

‘I do not know what
might happen if the circle pattern was actually broken,’ he
explained.

Willing hands probed
and scraped through the night, made even more willing as, slowly,
the circle emerged, its inlaid jet and crystal mosaic gleaming in
the moonlight. They finished just as dawn fingered the sky. Grubby
and tired, armsmen sat with their Lords around Tika and Gan, and
watched the circle. Whispers died as the pattern shimmered and five
people appeared before them.

Emla stepped off the
circle, holding her arms out to Tika. Gan fruitlessly attempted
formal introductions but Tika had seen Elyssa. Silvered eyes met
silvered eyes. Elyssa moved forward with a delighted smile, and
Tika burst into tears.

 

Cho Petak walked slowly
through the topmost apartments of the Menedula. The outer doors
were locked and warded against any who might think to interrupt
him. He raised a finger and a black panel swung towards him. Still
deep in thought, Cho passed into the passage that led deep into the
lava mountain. The apparently seamless wall split to reveal another
doorway at Cho Petak’s nod.

Lamps flared alight as
he crossed the threshold and he paused, vaguely aware of the
familiar booklined walls surrounding him. He moved to the table in
the middle of the room, glancing at the open volume which he had
been studying of late. The Sacrifice nodded once more and another
door opened silently through which he took only a few
paces.

Hanging impossibly
unsupported in the small space within were seven flat gold disks,
the lowest only a handspan from the floor. He studied the disks for
a moment, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, then he turned
back to the first room. For more than two thousand years the
Weights of Balance had been forgotten in their secret place. Cho
Petak had learned of their existence accidentally when reading a
volume he had taken from the main library in mistake for a set text
when he was a senior Aspirant. That book led him to another, he
traced clue after clue, until he knew the Balance must be within
the Menedula building. Then it had been a matter of laying his
plans and waiting patiently for their fruition.

Once installed in these
upper chambers as the Sacrifice of the Order of Sedka, it had been
a simple matter to discover the hidden doors leading to the Weights
of Balance. Cho Petak sat in the single chair at the table. Two
other systems of Balance he had read of, and it had taken him many
years to discover how to disrupt them both. Now, there were still
seven disks here, while only six remained in each of the others.
The Balances had been set in place by the old gods of this world,
but Cho Petak had yet to identify just who those old gods were or
from whence they had come.

Cho Petak leaned back
in his chair with a sigh. He was mildly perturbed by the
disappearance of Offering Ren Salar and of the Aspirant, Voron. He
had first suspected that either or both had gone to Oblaka to find
Babach, but neither he nor his creature Krolik, the new Master of
Aspirants, had found any trace of them. Observer Babach was
definitely in Oblaka, but that was of no moment – it was his old
home.

Both Ren Salar and
Voron had potentials unrealised by either, which was the reason Cho
wanted them kept close by. He dismissed the thought of them: they
offered no threat to him, wherever they might be. He relaxed for a
moment, letting his mind drift across the world as it had become so
simple for him to do.

It was but a minor
effort to maintain the silvering of his eyes but it still cost a
small amount of his decreasing energy. As Cho Petak searched for
Rhaki and the other one, his brilliant blue pupils became red,
flickering like living flames.

 

Ren was still in a
state of shocked disbelief. Voron and Babach had rushed about,
making lists of what Ren should tell and ask the people of the
Night Lands, collecting items of clothing for him and arguing as to
how all should be packed. Ren did little except watch them, trying
to distract his thoughts from terrifying visions of himself high in
the sky on the back of a bird.

He had been taken to
meet Baryet and had nearly fainted on the spot. He had no idea
Plavats were quite so huge, or quite so obstreperous. But now, the
preparations were done, his pack was on his back, his cloak wrapped
over all. Chakar had given him a staff to carry: polished white
wood with iron caps at each end. He had not asked what he might be
expected to use it for – in any sort of fight, he would probably
only damage himself. The thought of a fight made him feel sicker
than ever. The staff was strapped across his back, between the pack
and his shoulders, and he was working hard to ignore its
presence.

Babach hugged both Ren
and Chakar before they left the cottage. He had woven a shield so
that no prying mind would be aware of anyone other than Chakar and
himself.

Baryet suddenly
descended to land in front of them, his mate Syecha settling beside
him. Numbly, Ren climbed among the feathers as he was instructed,
wound his hands tightly round a strap he found just above the
wings, and closed his eyes. The wings began to move in a rhythmic
beat, there was an uncomfortable tilting to one side sensation,
then the air blew steadily into his face.

‘Ren. Ren!’ Chakar’s
voice in his mind was sympathetic and calm. ‘Don’t hold the strap
so tight, you will only deaden your fingers. I promise you are
quite safe.’

Ren forced his hands to
loosen their grip and felt the tingle of blood able to circulate
properly again. Chakar said nothing more for a while but Ren was
aware of her close to his left side and found some comfort in that.
He finally cracked open one eye, then both opened wide and he
stared in astonishment. It was almost as though he could reach out
a hand and touch the clouds – not that he would be so foolish of
course. The sea was so far below, it was just a carpet of varied
blues and greens, the awful tossing and heaving was indiscernible
from the height they flew at. Ren had the first inkling that he
might just survive this ridiculous journey after all.

It was impossible to
judge how long they flew, neither of the great birds communicated
with their passengers or with each other as far as Ren could tell.
His legs were cramping more frequently and his back was on fire,
when Chakar spoke again.

‘Close your eyes Ren.
There is an island ahead where we will land for the
night.’

Obediently, Ren closed
his eyes as Syecha tilted sideways and down. His stomach lurched as
the tilting and dropping were repeated, and then – stillness.
Cautiously, Ren opened his eyes and saw Chakar sliding from
Baryet’s back. She staggered when her feet hit the ground and
stamped her feet to restore the feeling to her legs. Ren followed
suit and ended in a heap on the ground. Chakar laughed.

‘You will soon get used
to it. Come on, move about for a while, Ren, then we will see about
a fire and some supper.’

‘But neither of us can
cook,’ Ren retorted, staggering onto his feet again. ‘Where have
the Plavats gone?’ He tottered in Chakar’s wake.

‘Fishing, or just
playing.’

Ren stood at Chakar’s
side and saw they were on a tiny island indeed, barely a league in
any direction and covered with low, wind-bent bushes.

‘No monsters Ren!’
Chakar told him solemnly.

‘Well I didn’t imagine
there would be,’ Ren retorted untruthfully.

Chakar grinned at him
but didn’t pursue the point.

Later, lying wrapped in
their cloaks, heads pillowed on their packs, Chakar sighed
contentedly.

‘From what I can tell
through Baryet’s memory, there are islands scattered nearly all the
way across the sea to the Night Lands. There may be one day when we
will have remain in the air longer than today, but I hope
not.’

‘Baryet said it took
him five days to fly the distance?’

‘That was without
stopping. It will take us longer – not too much I hope, but still
longer.’

After seven days, Ren
continued to close his eyes firmly when the giant Plavats took to
the air or landed, but he had learnt to have confidence in their
flying skills. As with horse riding, he found his muscles growing
accustomed to the different use to which they were being put.
Chakar spent the evenings instructing him further in the ways of
the Order of Myata which gave him plenty to ponder on during the
long days of flight.

Baryet announced that
they had only mountains to fly over during that day and then they
would reach the Stronghold.

‘We will fly faster
today,’ he announced. ‘I do not wish to leave you for a night in
such cold.’ He lowered his head to Chakar’s level. ‘It is far too
cold for you, although not, of course, for us Plavats.’

Ren and Chakar had to
pull the hoods of their cloaks close about their faces as the ever
colder air bit into their skin. Stars were just scratching through
the darkening sky when Baryet sent out his screeching call. Ren
shivered as a great bass cry answered the bird. Syecha tilted down
after her mate and then strutted after him through a tall gateway
cut into the sheer wall of a mountain.

Ren blinked at the
sudden warmth and light that enveloped him. He slid off of Syecha’s
back and stood beside Chakar as a slim, russet-haired boy came
forward. Ren stared at the golden scales covering the boy’s face
then he forgot all about the polite greeting he had prepared as a
massive black Dragon reared erect to offer them formal
welcome.

 

 

 

Chapter
Thirty-Five

 

Ryla had, with very
poor grace, agreed to call a restricted Gather in the great hall of
Emla’s House. She could not travel back into the city herself
without needing days for her ancient body to recover from the trip.
So she had summoned the minimum number of Discipline Seniors,
Seniors and Students needed to convene an official Gather. She
bullied Hani into being present, knowing the presence of a Great
Dragon would be greatly helpful. Chairs were arranged in a
semicircle around Ryla and Nolli, with an extra seat beside Ryla
for Jilla to appear as the visiting representative of
Vagrantia.

Soran had a full squad
of Guards spaced around the hall. Since Lady Emla’s disappearance,
using the circle in the Asataria, rumours had flown through the
city. Most of those now Assembled before Ryla were intrigued by the
news of the previously unknown Vagrantians who lived across the
Wilderness. Seats gradually filled and Ryla took command of the
Gather.

She outlined events as
far as they were known, being considerably economical with some of
her facts, Jilla thought. Ryla invited no questions when she had
finished speaking, asking that Jilla be heard first. The air mage
spoke quietly and steadily, giving a brief history of the
Vagrantians’ exile from Sapphrea, which, along with the rest of
this whole land, they once governed and knew as the Land of
Valsheba.

Murmured conversation
started up when Jilla resumed her seat but before Ryla could
suggest that questions might now be asked, Discipline Senior Fayet
was on his feet.

‘And now these circles
have been brought back to life, what is to stop an army coming
through?’

Jilla raised her
eyebrows. ‘It would take hours to get an army through a circle,
even if we had one.’

‘Hours is still faster
than the days it would take to cover the same distance on foot,’
Fayet snapped.

Jilla considered
weaving air around this disagreeable person and hanging him out of
the way, somewhere high, but Ryla’s hand slapped down on the arm of
her chair. The old lady’s eyes flashed in anger.

‘How dare you speak so
to our guest?’ she hissed. ‘You are dismissed from this Gather and
I demand that your Seniority be re examined and
reduced.’

Fayet paled, his fists
clenched at his sides. ‘Do as you will, but you surely cannot live
much longer old woman. Then we shall see who rules
here.’

He stormed from the
hall, followed by his shadow, Senior Harak.

A grey haired woman
rose to her feet as the door slammed behind the pair.

‘Councillor Jilla, the
Gather offers you our deepest apologies for the disgraceful conduct
of two of our members.’ She glanced quickly round the hall. ‘Know
that the rest of us welcome you most truly, and we look forward to
exchanging knowledge and ideas with you and your
people.’

Ryla sighed in relief
as a chorus of agreement rose through the hall.

‘Thank you for those
words Doochay,’ she said. ‘Please, all of you, let this Gather
continue with no formality now.’

The grey haired Senior
whom Ryla had named Doochay, came forward. She took Ryla’s
outstretched hand and grinned at her.

‘I thought there were
several – erm – gaps, in your account to us,’ she said with a look
of wide eyed innocence. ‘You made no mention of the two bodies
discovered on the circle in the Asataria for instance.’ Doochay
hooked a stool closer and perched upon it. ‘Perhaps you would like
to tell me the rest now,’ she suggested.

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