Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series (12 page)

‘And Khosa?’

A small orange cat
emerged from behind Nenat’s chair and leaped lightly to Lady Emla’s
knee. Turquoise eyes met Seola’s. ‘I am Khosa.’

Cyrek squinted
slightly. ‘You are not merely a cat,’ he observed.

To those who knew her,
Khosa reaction was subdued. ‘I am only a cat now.’

‘You are a child of
Namolos,’ Cyrek said in some disbelief. ‘In the name of the Dark,
what have you allowed to be done to you?’

Khosa shivered.
‘Namolos foresaw some of these events and my sister and I agreed to
his plans. We have endured a long, long time, and I at least have
failed.’

The old herb woman,
Nenat, broke the stunned silence that followed Khosa’s words. ‘We
are here to try to heal the young one. Let us apply our minds and
our strength to that task before we rush off in other
directions.’

Slowly Seola nodded,
her eyes never leaving the small cat sitting on Lady Emla’s
knee.

‘I was to protect
them.’ Khosa’s mind voice was a whisper and Emla’s hand lightly
stroked the furry back.

A raucous shrieking
erupted outside making everyone jump.

‘Hag,’ muttered
Seola.

‘The gijan,’ muttered
Emla.

They both hurried to
the main doors, followed by all. Hag, Raven of Dark, was on the
ground at the bottom of the steps, screaming with rage. Close
around her fluttered three other feathered creatures. Seola and
Cyrek could only stare. The three had human bodies but also bore
great wings. The upper feathers of all three were the deepest blue
black, but the under feathers were different. One’s were palest
pink, another’s brilliant yellow, and the third’s were a soft
green. They were quite clearly teasing the Raven of Dark and
enjoying themselves enormously.

Navan pushed between
Emla and Seola without ceremony. He clapped his hands sharply and
started down the steps. ‘How dare you?’ he roared. The three
faltered and moved back from the Raven, their expressions now
guilty rather than amused.

Raven stretched her
wings and shot skywards, imprecations trailing almost visibly
behind her.

‘That Raven was a guest
in lady Emla’s House,’ Navan continued in a roar. He’d found it
extremely effective when dealing with these three. Feathers rustled
and wings folded close to backs.

‘Sorry
Navan.’

For the first time they
seemed to notice the crowd staring from the top of the steps and
all three looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Emla cleared her
throat. ‘Well now,’ she said brightly. ‘Allow me to introduce the
gijan: Leaf, Willow, and Piper.’

Chapter
Seven

Seola asked for a quiet
place where she and Nenat might rest and begin to focus their
thoughts on the attempted healing which lay ahead of them. After a
brief word with Cyrek, Jemin vanished to the barracks with Captain
Soran. Cyrek went outside with Ren to watch Navan’s continuing
tirade at the three gijan. Cyrek offered no comment but Ren had the
sense that the Dark Lord knew much more than appeared to be the
case. Navan finally wound down and dismissed the gijan with strict
instructions to behave and to stay close to the House. He waited
until they’d gone out of sight and turned to Ren and Cyrek with a
rueful grimace.

‘It’s the only way to
treat them every now and then, but they’re good hearted enough I
think.’

Ren pursed his lips.
‘Which is more than I could say about their Elders.’

Cyrek quirked an
eyebrow but people began emerging from the House, forestalling
further conversation. The healer Nesh walked between Seola and
Nenat, slightly behind Lady Emla. They passed through some glossy
shrubbery and rounded a corner. Ahead stood a Pavilion. Kija and
Brin reclined on the grass and a much smaller, smoky grey Dragon
lay by Brin, watching the people approach. As they passed the
Dragons, Cyrek paused and looked across at the grey
Dragon.

‘That’s Storm, Lord
Cyrek,’ Navan murmured. ‘He is Farn’s great friend. He finds this
situation very hard to bear.’

Cyrek went closer and
Storm reared back, pushing himself onto his haunches, eyes
whirring. Cyrek touched the young sea Dragon gently between the
eyes, as he had touched Kija. He spoke in a low voice and Storm
lowered himself to the ground again, his eyes slowing their
dizzying spin. No one had yet spoken of Cyrek’s terrifying
transformation when he faced Kija earlier, but all had understood
it had been a statement of power. Seola halted some distance from
the Pavilion’s closed doors. She glanced around.

‘If it is agreeable, I
will see how far he has gone.’

Nesh looked worried but
Nenat nodded. ‘I will accompany you,’ she said firmly.

But Seola had frozen,
aware of a sudden surge of power close by. Cyrek felt it too. Their
heads snapped to the left where they could just see another roof
line above low flowering trees. They both turned sharply to
Emla.

‘What is that
building?’ Seola asked, her tone stern.

Emla was nonplussed but
as she began to explain it was merely another Pavilion, a bell
chimed twice.

‘Oh.’ Emla bit her lip.
‘It holds the circle. Someone or something has just come
through.’

Two guards appeared as
she spoke, escorting a man and a woman.

‘Thryssa!’ Emla
exclaimed. ‘And Kwanzi! But why are you here? Tell me there’s
nothing amiss in Vagrantia?’

‘No my dear.’ The
couple had reached Emla and both embraced her with obvious
affection. ‘Your last message spoke of help for Farn. We could do
nothing less than offer any support you may need.’

The woman smiled, then
she saw Seola and Cyrek standing motionless, their eyes gold as
sunlight. The High Speaker of Vagrantia was rarely lost for words
and she wasn’t now. Her smile didn’t falter as Emla hurried to make
introductions. Her husband, Kwanzi, slid his hand under Thryssa’s
elbow and bowed.

‘I am a healer,’ he
said. ‘If you need to take strength, mine is yours as you have
need.’

Seola frowned. ‘I’m not
sure I follow?’

‘Those of us blessed
with the ability to reach power, often share our strength. One
healer may actually tend a patient but he or she can draw on the
strength of others if they are willing.’ His brown eyes twinkled.
‘The Dragons have immense reserves of strength; they have helped us
on several occasions when our talent was insufficient.’

Seola glanced at Cyrek.
‘This is not done among my people. We help each other to a degree
but you are describing a melding of your power with another’s?’ She
looked to Kwanzi for confirmation and at his nod she continued.
‘You surprise me. You must have complete trust to merge your mind
with another. Perhaps my people should learn to trust more fully.
How does it work – how would your strength help mine when I examine
this hurt one?’

It was Thryssa who
answered. ‘Can you let me in to the border of your mind, or can you
enter mine?’

Seola nodded, and
Thryssa felt a tentative touch at the barriers of her thoughts. She
opened the first path and saw Seola’s eyes widen. Thryssa pushed
back, towards Seola’s mind, then gently withdrew.

‘It can be a strange
sensation if you are unaccustomed to it,’ Kwanzi smiled. ‘I would
willingly offer myself as the conduit. You would then only notice
me, everyone else would direct their strength to me and I in turn
would channel it to you. A dozen other minds in your head can be
confusing.’

Seola looked slightly
alarmed but nodded. ‘And you believe the strength of many will be
needed for this healing?’

Kwanzi’s expression was
suddenly desolate. ‘I do not know your strength Lady Seola, but I
fear all of us combined may still not be enough. We have to bring
him back from the deepest depths to a level where we might be able
to restore him.’

Kija had joined them
and now her eyes whirred in muted shades. ‘If we cannot reach him,
then he must be killed. If he cannot be restored, he must be
killed.’ Her voice was a whisper of anguish in their
heads.

The old herb woman went
close to the gold Dragon. ‘You are right my poor dear,’ she said
aloud. ‘We will do everything we can, but there may have to be an
ending.’

Kija lowered her head,
pressing her face gently against Nenat’s. Nenat turned away but the
onlookers saw tears sparkling on her lashes. Seola looked towards
the Pavilion again.

‘Who maintains the
wards?’ she asked.

Emla moved up beside
her. ‘Six of my healers and Fenj.’

‘And at the moment, the
hurt one’s mind is unfettered? You are only keeping his torment
contained within the building?’

Emla nodded.

Seola began to walk to
the three shallow steps leading to the doors of the Pavilion, Emla
and Nesh beside her. Cyrek followed with Nenat. Kwanzi and Thryssa,
still arm in arm, reached the others under the overhanging eaves
just as Nesh twisted the door handles and pushed them
inwards.

The black Dragon Fenj
reclined to the left of the door and six healers sat cross legged
around the body slumped in the centre of the floor. The hiss of an
indrawn breath from Cyrek was the only sound in the chamber. A
silver blue Dragon lay curled on his side, his face towards the
door. He seemed slightly larger than the grey Dragon Storm, who
waited outside. Cyrek moved closer. The scales were dull, reflected
no light. Cyrek squatted near the Dragon’s head and saw a long scar
trailing down his neck, bare of scales. Cyrek’s voice was the
faintest breath.

‘He is but a baby!’ He
looked over his shoulder to Emla, his eyes blazing. ‘Yet already he
has seen battle and come close to death. Who healed
this?’

Emla sank to her knees
beside Cyrek, tears pouring down her face unheeded. ‘Tika, his soul
bond. She healed him.’

Cyrek was astonished:
the small woman they’d seen asleep in a tunnel had healed an injury
of this severity? ‘She is healer trained then,’ he
murmured.

Emla shook her head,
dark hair whipping across her face. ‘It was the first time she had
reached for power.’

Cyrek stared at her,
his thoughts racing. No wonder the First Daughter risked so much
for this Dragon and the female human. He stood up, helping Emla to
her feet. Seola came forward and sat within reach of Farn’s head,
cross legged like the other healers. She met Kwanzi’s
eyes.

‘Will you know when I
may need help?’

He sat beside her. ‘If
you let me join to your mind, a little thread, tagging on to your
power.’

‘Very well. Nenat, I
will begin.’

Cautiously, like the
thinnest possible needle, Seola’s thought slid into the Dragon’s
mind. She gasped aloud, her eyes blazing. Kwanzi’s arm went round
her shoulders and Cyrek knelt at Nenat’s back, supporting her
suddenly slumped body. Everyone present, and the Dragons outside,
clung to Kwanzi’s mind where he struggled to keep contact with
Seola. A pulse of strength came from Brin, Kwanzi recognised the
crimson Dragon’s mind in the instant he pushed the power around
Seola.

But she was battling to
maintain control against the deafening screams, the agony searing
through her whole body. She fought to isolate herself, to put even
a tiny distance between her mind and Farn’s. He could swamp her
with his pain: she must maintain her thoughts distinct from his.
But how far had he gone? Seola was gasping, Kwanzi pouring strength
into her from more and more of the willing volunteers. Her mind
hovered above a vast darkness then slowly drifted down. Seola was
unaware of her body, panting and twitching; she saw only blackness,
above her now, and below. She had no idea how deep she’d gone, only
that Farn was even lower, his mind threshing like a vast creature
in the ocean. Seola opened her eyes. Cyrek was thumping her chest
while Emla and another woman held her convulsing limbs. Then she
knew no more until the headache woke her hours later.

She found herself in a
narrow bed in a shadowy room. She saw a shape, a person, in a chair
to one side. Then the outline of another bed came into focus with
someone lying in it. Seola tried to sit up and groaned, clutching
her head with both hands as nausea roiled through her stomach.
Hands held her shoulders, easing her back against pillows, then she
felt the edge of a cup against her mouth and drank its contents
thirstily. She opened her eyes again just the smallest crack and
recognised Lady Emla’s healer, Nesh.

‘You, or that drink?’
she croaked.

He smiled. ‘A little of
both. I’m afraid we are all rather low on strength right
now.’

Seola remembered what
had happened and groaned again. ‘How many of you used your strength
to pull me back?

‘Most of us, including
the Dragons.’

Seola’s eyes opened
fully and she realised the pain had receded to a dull discomfort
and the nausea was gone completely. ‘It took all of you?’ she
whispered in dawning horror.

Nesh nodded, knowing
she was gradually realising how close she’d come to being lost
together with Farn. Cautiously she pushed herself higher and looked
across to the other bed. ‘Nenat, will she be all right?’ she asked
with concern.