Authors: Charlotte E. English
Tags: #fantasy mystery, #fantasy animals, #science fiction, #fantasy romance, #high fantasy, #fantasy adventure
‘Your report to the
Council was intriguing. I did some research.’
Eva nodded. When she
had reported her recent experiences to her colleagues in the
government, she had highlighted the fact that the two people
responsible for the recent chaos, a pair of Ullarn citizens named
Ana and Griel, apparently demonstrated strong skill in both schools
of magic. That was previously unheard of: it was common knowledge
that magically talented individuals were unable to access both
skills. It was so widely accepted, in fact, that Eva had
encountered a great deal of scepticism. She was grateful to find
that Angstrun at least was willing to take her seriously.
‘Has anyone ever
conducted a study into this phenomenon? I know that magical
training has qualifying children divided into the two groups by the
age of eight, and after that they are trained in their given
ability. Has anyone ever tried to train a child in both?’
‘I found one such
study, but it was later discredited. The researchers were accused
of manipulating the results. The effect on their careers was highly
damaging, and it seems no one has been brave enough to repeat the
research.’
Eva shook her head. ‘I
can’t help thinking it strange, than a society so fond of
scientific enquiry could have completely failed to pursue
this.’
Angstrun shrugged.
‘There are many other questions worth pursuing, most of them less
potentially damaging to a scholar’s credibility. You do realise
that addressing this question much further may get you labelled a
crank.’
‘If so, so be it.
There’s also the small matter of Ana’s disappearing trick. I can’t
currently imagine how that’s possible within either magical
tradition, but one mystery at a time.’
He snorted. ‘Let me
guess. You want me to teach summoning to my sorcery students.’ He
leaned back in his chair and lifted his heavy black brows at
her.
‘Yes. And vice versa.
I’ve already cleared it with Roys.’
‘Ah yes.
Congratulations on your retirement, by the way. Though apparently
you aren’t planning to spend the next few years living the good
life.’
‘Quite. I retired
because I have more pressing things to do. I take it that the lack
of instant objections means you agree to my proposal?’
‘It doesn’t, but who
could possibly refuse you anything?’
Eva thought immediately
of Finshay, one of Lord Vale’s agents. She had worked with him for
a time during the search for Edwae Geslin, and he had made it clear
he resented every moment. ‘Some certainly could, but I’m delighted
to find you aren’t one of them.’ She rewarded his compliance with a
smile, and rose to leave. ‘Thank you, Darae. I’d like to be
involved with the teaching, if I may.’
‘You may. Uh - one
moment. Don’t leave yet.’ He stood up and shrugged off his black
professor’s robe, clearing his throat. ‘When’s the wedding?’ he
inquired, turning to face her.
‘We haven’t set a date
yet.’
‘Ah.’ He paused. ‘Does
your engagement mean you’re no longer available to...?’
He tailed off, but she
understood his meaning. He had been her lover for a time, about ten
years ago, and they had occasionally renewed that relationship when
it suited them both.
‘It doesn’t,’ she
replied. ‘I warned Vale that complete monogamy was probably beyond
me, and he didn’t object.’
Angstrun laughed. ‘How
like you. Well then, how about dinner? Say tomorrow night?’
Eva paused to consider.
Despite what she’d said, she hadn’t had any lover besides Vale
since her engagement. But Vale had been gone for a week and was due
to be absent for at least a week more.
She was about to
consent when Tren’s face appeared in her mind and she experienced
some momentary doubt. For the last few days he had remained at her
home until late in the evening, working relentlessly on the books
she had given him. She frequently joined him during those hours,
working alongside with another book set close to his. There was a
companionableness to the arrangement which she enjoyed.
But why should she
hesitate? She could forgo Tren’s company for one evening. There
would be more such nights.
‘Dinner would be
perfect,’ she said. Angstrun nodded, a rare smile smoothing all the
severity from his face. He kissed her hand and bowed her out, and
she walked slowly back to her carriage alone.
‘It’s been a brilliant
jaunt through the Uppers, but if the device has failed there’s
nothing more to be done.’ Rufin sat, legs folded, sharpening a
knife that was longer than his forearm. ‘Home we go!’
Aysun thought his tone
was offensively cheerful under the circumstances. ‘I can fix
it.’
Rufin’s blond brows
sailed up. ‘You’ve been trying for days.’ He looked up at the sky
with its perpetual light. ‘Well. Far as I can tell up here. Feels
like days.’
‘I can fix it.’
Rufin shrugged. ‘Right,
but make it fast. It’s pure luck that we haven’t lost anyone
yet.’
‘And some skill, I like
to think.’ Eyas lay stretched out in the moss, his head pillowed on
his arms. Aysun hoped he wasn’t as close to sleep as he looked.
Rufin smirked,
polishing the blade of his knife with a rag. ‘Some of that, too,
but it can’t last.’
‘The skill or the
luck?’
‘Certainly the luck.
Maybe the skill.’
Aysun said nothing. He
couldn’t refute the truth of Rufin’s words. Since they had entered
the Uppers, they had been attacked three times by creatures well
equipped to kill. Rufin and Aysun had shot their way through most
of their ammunition, and Eyas’s efforts at subduing the frenzied
beasts had obviously exhausted him. It would be increasingly
difficult for them to hold their own against any further
attacks.
‘I concur,’ came Nyra’s
voice from somewhere above their heads. Having the advantage of
wings to protect her from beasts on the ground, she frequently
employed them to lift herself out of danger’s path.
‘Your opinion doesn’t
count,’ said Rufin cheerfully. ‘You’re the only one of us not
likely to be eaten by an ailigray or gored by a drauk anytime
soon.’
Nyra didn’t answer.
Aysun couldn’t even see her, so well hidden was she by the
teal-hued leaves of the surrounding trees.
‘I cannot leave without
Llandry,’ said Aysun firmly.
‘Right. How are you
planning to find her? I love your family, Aysun, but if it’s a
matter of spending months up here trying not to die while hoping to
accidentally bump into your daughter, I can’t say I’m up for
that.’
‘Got to agree,’
murmured Eyas. His eyes had fluttered shut again.
Aysun’s heart sank. He
couldn’t ask them to stay under these circumstances; if any of them
were injured or killed it would be solely his fault. But nor could
he abandon the search.
‘All right. Home.’
‘Great,’ said Rufin. He
leapt to his feet, shoving his knife back into its holster. ‘Nyra?
How about that gate?’
Leaves rustled and Nyra
appeared, sliding gracefully down from the branches above. She set
to work, and within moments a gate hung in the air, shimmering with
heat and warping the landscape around it. Looking at it, Aysun
shuddered. It had taken all of his courage to step through such a
gate before; he wasn’t ready to repeat the experience yet.
Eyas was squinting at
him suspiciously. ‘You are planning to come with us, Ays?’
‘Of course,’ Aysun
replied blandly. Eyas gave him a hard stare, then nodded.
‘When the device is
fixed, call us. We’ll try again.’
‘Thanks.’ Aysun watched
as Rufin stepped through the gate first, disappearing from sight.
Eyas went next. Nyra waited, glancing at him enquiringly. He gave a
minute shake of his head.
‘How will you get
home?’
‘I’ll find a rogue.’
Rogue gates opened and closed by themselves, seemingly at random.
Recently they had been opening with much greater frequency than
normal; this posed a threat to Glinnery’s citizens who did not
possess any magical aptitude, as they could not see or sense them.
Glinnery’s sorcerers were working hard to close all of the rogue
gates before they could send any unsuspecting civilians through
into the adjacent world, but nonetheless Aysun was confident enough
that he would be able to find one at need.
And if not, he would
worry about that later.
Nyra hesitated. ‘Ynara
will kill me if I leave you here alone.’
Aysun shrugged. ‘The
choice is up to you, Nyra. I’m not leaving, but if you stay I can’t
guarantee that I can protect both of us.’
Nyra heaved a long
sigh, then turned back to her gate. Aysun thought she meant to step
through, but instead the shimmering in the air faded away and the
gate vanished.
‘I am our escape
route,’ said Nyra, turning back to him. ‘If we get into trouble
that we cannot handle, I will open a gate and we will go through
it, immediately and without question. You must promise me.’
Aysun promised readily
enough. He was secretly relieved that Nyra had elected to stay.
‘The others are going
to be furious with you,’ Nyra observed.
‘Probably. Let’s move
on.’ Aysun shouldered his pack, but Nyra didn’t move.
‘Rufin was right,
Aysun. We need some kind of plan. We can’t just wander
aimlessly.’
Aysun nodded. ‘I’m
working off the device. It’s got a lot of things wrong, but maybe
it has her direction right.’
Nyra looked sceptical,
but she didn’t object. Aysun strode away into the trees, burying
his uncertainty under an aura of confidence. He heard the sound of
Nyra’s wings beating and then she was aloft, soaring over his
head.
‘I’ll be lookout,’ she
called as she passed.
Twice that day, Nyra’s
timely warnings saved him just as he was about to blunder into
danger. It was a stark demonstration of how long he would have
lasted if Nyra had gone back to Glinnery after all.
When at last they could
go no further, Aysun grimly hauled himself up into the branches of
the tallest tree he could find. He had no wish to sleep on the
ground again, not without Eyas and Rufin to take turns at keeping
watch. His sleep was uncomfortable and fitful; after a few hours he
gave up and merely sat, watching the colourful landscape of the
Uppers changing sluggishly in the sun.
He’d noticed that the
changes happened faster when the light was strongest. Not that the
light conditions here could ever be termed low, but there were
times of the day when the sun shone with particular brilliance.
When clouds dimmed the sun and soft rain filled the air, as it now
did, the landscape seemed to fall into a half-sleep itself.
A scrap of colour
floated past Aysun’s vision and he blinked, jolted out of his
reverie. With a quick motion, he caught the fluttering thing
carefully in his cupped hands and brought it close to his face to
examine.
It was a tiny winged
creature only a few inches long from the tip of its long snout to
the end of its curled tail. Its wings were dusted with jade and
rose colours and it had soft, pearly fur covering most of its body.
With a shock, Aysun realised he had seen it before. This creature -
or one identical to it - had adopted Llandry after it had strayed
into the Sanfaer house. It had been attacked by Sigwide, Llandry’s
pet orting, but she had rescued it and after that it had stayed
close to her.
Both Sigwide and the
winged survivor had gone with her when she had left her parents’
home, choosing to follow Devary in secret. Of the three, only
Sigwide had returned to the house. He had assumed that Llandry’s
other pet had gone with her into the Uppers.
Perhaps it had. Could
he really believe that this was Llandry’s own pet? Surely there
must be more like it. But its markings looked identical to the
other one he had seen. Could it be coincidence that this one had
flown virtually into his face?
Yes, of course it
could. He released the creature, disgusted with himself. He was
grasping at straws, so desperate was he to discover some trace of
Llandry. He turned his back on it and resolutely put it out of his
thoughts. For another brief hour he dozed uncomfortably, covering
his eyes with his arm to block out the light.
When he woke again, the
winged creature was still with him. It sat a few inches from his
nose, its snout testing the air. He felt a slight sting as it
jabbed him with the tip of its proboscis, and he realised it was
its antics that had woken him.
‘What do you want,’ he
grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. The thing took
flight immediately and flew a short distance away, then paused
expectantly. When he didn’t move, it flew back, bumped his face
again and then repeated its motion.
If he didn’t know
better than to think so, he might have said it looked like an
invitation.
Nyra dropped down from
above, landing lightly on the branch upon which he sat. She used
her wings to restore her balance, but he was nearly pitched off
onto the floor a long way below.
‘Friend of yours?’
He grunted. ‘Think
not.’
Nyra sat neatly
cross-legged and passed him a handful of fruits. ‘Looks like it
disagrees.’
‘It’s free to do that
if it wishes.’ Aysun ate his meagre breakfast quickly and he and
Nyra set off once more. He had gone barely three steps before a
scrap of colour soared past his face on jade-dusted wings. After
another three steps, the creature passed again, swooping around him
in tight circles. After a few more repetitions of this cycle, Aysun
stopped, and Nyra landed in front of him.
‘It’s flying in
circles.’
‘I noticed.’ Aysun
started walking again, and immediately a flurry of wings shot past
his nose and circled. When he stopped, the creature darted away to
his left and paused.