Lokant (36 page)

He looked for a
doorbell but there wasn’t one, only a simple doorknocker. He lifted
it and tapped sharply on the door, waited some minutes then tapped
again. No sounds of life reached his ears, and he could sense no
movement from within.

Curse you,
Krays.
He traipsed to the back of the house, secreting himself
in an out-of-sight corner. Then he translocated himself past the
walls.

Nobody was inside the
house, as he expected. Nor had anybody been home in a while. The
house held that hush that descends after days of inactivity. Worse,
there were signs that Avane’s departure hadn’t been planned.

So: both the
hereditaries besides Llandry were taken. He’d made a guess at
Krays’s intentions for them, but the rogue Lokant’s ruthlessness
could still surprise him. What might the man do with two - or three
- draykoni shape shifters?

And this one had a
child, presumably taken along with its mother.

Leaving the house by
the same means, he crossed to the neighbouring property and knocked
on the door. It was quickly answered by a middle-aged woman who
stared at Limbane suspiciously.

‘I’m so sorry to bother
you,’ he said, adopting his most urbane manner. ‘I’m looking for
Avane Desandry, but I find she isn’t at home. Do you know where she
is?’

‘Haven’t you heard?
Avane’s gone. No one knows where.’ She made to shut the door but he
stopped her.

‘When did she go?’

‘Two days back.’ She
shoved him out of the way and slammed the door. He understood. When
people fell to vanishing without trace, neighbours got wary.

He strolled back
through the garden, thinking. Then, without bothering to conceal
himself, he translocated back to the Library.

Andraly was waiting for
him in his reading room. She read the look on his face and
smirked.

‘Life giving you
trouble, Baney?’

‘Specifically,
Krays
is giving me trouble. What do you want?’

‘I thought you’d want
to hear the news about your latest favourite, little Llandry
Sanfaer.’

Limbane’s heart
suddenly contracted. Had Llandry been taken while he conducted his
futile hunt for Vanse and Desandry?

‘Tell me quickly.’ He
crossed to his cabinet and poured himself a drink. A strong
one.

The tale Andraly
related had nothing to do with Krays, he was relieved to learn. But
it was bad enough. He sat, sipping his liquor, his free hand
gripping his aching head.

‘Right,’ he sighed when
she’d finished. He pondered her information silently for some
minutes. Andraly, used to his reveries, did not interrupt him.

‘Do you think that’s
the end of it?’

‘Andraly shook her
head. ‘That red beast had the air of fanaticism about her. She’ll
be back, with more draykoni in tow I’d wager.’

‘Knowing the draykoni
nature as we do, I’m sure you’re right.’ He put his empty glass
down and sank deeper into his chair, feeling weary and incredibly
old.

Which he was.

‘You think you’ve put a
stop to a problem...’

Andraly rolled her
eyes. ‘I
know.
It’s like humans just can’t be sensible.’

Limbane narrowed his
eyes at her. ‘You were one, once.’

‘Not a whole one. Only
a bit.’ She smiled winsomely at him. Andraly was, technically, a
partial. She’d been born in Glour, many centuries ago, to a human
mother. But her father had been a full Lokant, and she had taken
after him in every way. As a Librarian, she wasn’t far short of
Limbane’s own strength.

‘What to do.’ Limbane
tapped his fingers against his knee, thinking.

‘Why do anything? Leave
them to it. We gave up on this Cluster long ago, and for good
reason.’

‘Can you mean that?
This is
your
world we’re speaking of, Andraly.’

She shrugged one
shoulder. ‘Not really. I happened to be born there, but that was a
long time ago. I’m a Librarian.’

The woman was
relentlessly cold. It made her a good Lokant, if he was honest with
himself. It was him who was weak.

‘What troubles me about
all this is Krays. If not for him, I could agree with you: leave
the humans and draykoni to fight it out all over again, if they
wish. But the fact that Krays is taking such an interest bothers
me.’

Andraly considered
that. ‘Fair point,’ she conceded.

‘He’s throwing a lot of
resources into whatever he’s doing. It certainly seems to have
captured his full attention. That makes me nervous. He’ll only work
that hard on something that promises to put him ahead in some
way.’

‘Ahead? Of what?’

‘Of
us.
And
specifically, of me.’

Andraly grinned.
‘You’re really not that scary, Baney. I can’t think what Krays is
bothered about.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Jace agrees with
you.’

‘Oh? Why?’

‘Same reason. He hates
Krays even more than you do. I think he would like to eat his
liver, if he got the chance.’

‘I’ll be happy to save
him the liver.’

Andraly leaned forward.
‘So we’re taking him on?’

‘Hm. It might come to
that, yes. For a start, we’re scaling up our efforts to find out
what he’s up to. Any word from our new agents yet?’

‘Not yet. I checked in
on them a while back. Her haughty ladyship said they had a man
working on it.’

Limbane’s brows lifted.
‘You don’t like Lady Glostrum?’

Andraly gave a cruel
smile. ‘She’s competition.’

‘Ah.’ He dismissed that
problem. Andraly could take care of her own personal business.

‘All right. I’m loathe
to do this, but I think we have to consider it. Krays has taken two
people I’m interested in. They’re probably stashed at the pitiful
little island he’s audacious enough to call a Library. We’re going
to get them out.’

‘Which two people?’

‘Our other two draykoni
hereditaries.’

Andraly whistled. ‘Got
there first, did he? That must gall you.’

‘Somewhat,’ Limbane
snapped. ‘Gather everyone, get everything. Krays may be an idiot
but he keeps his “Library” well defended.’

Andraly jumped up,
looking like a child with a present to open. ‘Yes, sir!’ She
saluted, her face wreathed in a beaming smile, then left the
room.

Limbane sighed.
Somebody really needed to rein that woman in.

Eva’s one fear about
using Recender was his cunning. If he thought he could delay her
departure by taking longer over her request, he would certainly do
it. She had stressed the importance of her schedule as strongly as
she knew how; after that there was nothing to do but wait.

Two days passed and
Recender produced nothing useful. Eva, chafing at the delay, spent
many hours with the ambassador, intent on keeping him on track. But
she was careful to reserve some hours to herself and Tren’s company
as well. Having little else to do, the two of them spent most of
their time in their private parlour at Wirllen’s best quality inn,
both trying to read.

On the second day, Eva
and Tren were sitting on opposite sides of their parlour, both
pretending to read and neither feeling in any way comfortable, when
Andraly appeared. Eva’s mind had been more on Recender and the
problem of Iro Byllant than on her book; these reflections were
frustrating and unproductive and she welcomed the interruption.

Tren on the other hand
took one look at Andraly and slouched deeper in his chair, holding
his book in such a way as to cover most of his face. He did his
best to look utterly absorbed in the book he wasn’t reading.

Odd.

Andraly’s manner
towards Eva herself wasn’t as it had formerly been either. Her
smile held a cruel edge and even a hint of a challenge, one that
Eva didn’t understand. She dropped a mocking curtsey, grinning.

‘Any news?’

‘None.’

‘None at all? How
disappointing. But I can see you two are working hard.’ She stared
at Tren, who refused to look up.

‘We got nothing out of
our lead. Warehouse empty. But I have somebody on it.’

‘Somebody?’

‘A friend.’

‘
Oh,
’ said
Andraly with exaggerated relief. ‘That’s all right then.’

She vanished.

‘What a pleasant
visit.’ Eva kept her eyes on Tren until he finally looked up,
peeking at her over the top of his book.

‘Is she gone?’

‘Do you want to explain
what that was about?’

He coughed. ‘Er. Not
really, no.’

‘And you call me
secretive.’ She muttered the words under her breath, knowing Tren
could hear them anyway. He contributed nothing but a crooked smile
by way of answer.

‘All right, keep your
secrets.’

‘You’re becoming a
grumpy old woman. It’s being cooped up in here with me that does
it. How about a walk?’

‘
Old?
An
old
woman?’

‘I, um, didn’t mean
that.’

She turned her back on
him. ‘We can’t walk. Recender might send word.’

Tren heaved a sigh. ‘In
that case, do you have anything more interesting to read?’

‘More interesting than
what?’

Tren tossed her the
book. The title read
A History of the Royal Family of Orstwych,
1652 - 1745.

The book was six inches
thick.

Eva sorted through the
scanty pile of volumes that lay on the table beside her. ‘I’ve got
a trashy romance novel or a trashy romance novel.’

‘Ooh. Are they
steamy?’

Eva glanced with
distaste at the pages of her own volume. ‘This one is sadly lacking
in racier content.’

‘Ah.’ Tren’s face fell.
‘Ah well. It’s got to be better than the exploits of Old Orstwych’s
ninth monarch at boarding school.’

Eva threw him a
book.

Sometime later, the
very same green clothbound volume went sailing past her head to
strike the wall.

‘Not a success, I take
it.’ Eva spoke without looking up.

‘I made it to page
fifty-three. The heroine has wept on
every single page.
’

She laughed. ‘Of course
she has. It shows her extraordinary sensitivity.’

‘And the hero? He falls
for it
every time.
Like he has nothing better to do than
comfort wailing women.’ Tren groaned. ‘Preserve me from ever being
saddled with such a watering-pot, I beg you.’

Eva let her eyes grow
big and mournful. ‘You’re saying you couldn’t love a sensitive
woman?’

‘No!’

‘Oh.’ She spoke the
word in a very small voice, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I had no
idea you were so - so - unfeeling.’

Tren glared at her,
suspicion written all over his hard stare.

Eva’s eyes spilled
over. She let one tear roll slowly down her cheek.

Tren folded his arms.
‘Come on. You’re not really crying.’

‘I never imagined you
were so stone-hearted,’ Eva sobbed, groping for a handkerchief.

‘Stop it! This is
silly. You’re a strong woman. I doubt you’ve
really
cried
since you were about ten.’

‘
Silly?
’ Eva
managed a creditable wail and began to weep in earnest, using the
handkerchief to hide her face.

‘Okay, I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean silly.’

Eva cried on.

‘Oh, for...’ Tren left
his chair and crossed to her, bending to peer into her face. ‘Is
this real? Because, uh, I didn’t mean to upset you. And it does
look
real. Sounds it too. Eva? Are you all right?’

Eva collapsed into
laughter. The giggling fit was of considerable length, leaving her
short of breath when at last she stopped howling with mirth.

‘So...
easy,’
she gasped.

Tren straightened with
tremendous dignity. ‘You,’ he said with emphasis, ‘are
horrible.’

‘I know.’

A tap came at the door.
She was instantly alert, smoothing the laughter out of her face and
mopping up the tears. Tren picked up the discarded volume and hid
it as the door opened, revealing one of the downstairs
servants.

‘A note for my lady,’
the man said with a respectful bow.

‘Thank you.’ Eva
accepted it with trepidation, dreading the contents. Did Recender
have information for her, or was this an announcement of failure?
She felt as though her standing with the Lokants depended on
success in this venture, leaving her terribly afraid of
failure.

The servant bowed again
and left, closing the door.

‘Are you going to read
it, or shall I?’

Eva scowled at him.
Tearing open the seal, she quickly scanned the contents.

Ana Breyre, graduated
from Ullarn’s Academy of Summoning in 1897.

Griel Ruart, graduated
from Ullarn’s Academy of Sorcery in 1898.

The above married 1901.
Disappeared from our records 1903.

No birth, education,
marriage or death records exist for the one known as Iro Byllant.
Conclude it is an assumed name. One address on file. See me for
more information.

- B. R.

She handed the note to
Tren and took up pacing the parlour, torn between relief, elation
and disappointment.

She wasn’t vastly
surprised to find that Byllant’s was an assumed name, but it was a
blow. He could be anybody. She also wanted to throttle Recender for
sending her an incomplete report.
See me for more
information?
Why couldn’t he just send the address with the
rest? Now she would have to waste more time on him.

On the other hand, it
was something to have Ana and Griel’s identities confirmed. She’d
been right that they were Ullarni. That thought gave her a little
glow of satisfaction: she always enjoyed being right.

Tren looked up from
reading with a frown. ‘So, back to Recender’s?

‘I suppose so.’

He coughed. ‘Will this
be another all-night visit?’