Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series (21 page)

Nurses and healers drew
closer, watching in amazed silence as the stranger, Tika, sat
quietly by the injured child. Shea was supported by Nesh who held
her so that the burned shoulder was not in contact with anything.
Tevros tried without success to follow what Tika was doing. All he
could see was tissues rippling deep in Shea’s shoulder, flesh
burgeoning across renewed muscle. He was unaware of Gossamer Tewk
standing beside him, watching, like everyone else.

The orange cat
stretched, hind legs straight up, front legs flat, and climbed upon
the child’s chest, peering into her face intently. Shea gave a
mighty, jaw cracking yawn and opened her eyes. She found herself
nose to nose with Khosa who blinked, settled more firmly on Shea’s
chest and began her crooning purr. Not to be outdone, Akomi
scrabbled up close to Khosa and joined his purr to hers. Nesh had
put pillows behind Shea and now moved to slide his arm round Tika’s
shoulders.

‘You made that seem
easy,’ he murmured.

Tika smiled. ‘It was
Nesh, it was. We must talk you and Emla and Kija and I. Perhaps I
can mend Farn now.’

Shea struggled to sit
more upright, dislodging the cats in the process. Khosa stalked to
Tika, her back to Shea, indicating seriously injured dignity. Akomi
was far more forgiving and settled calmly on Shea’s legs. She
twisted her shoulder to look at it. The skin was smooth, a little
paler perhaps, but nothing remained of the burns. Yet Shea
remembered all too clearly the pain, seeing the awful mess when
Tevros tried to clean it. Akomi’s gold eyes blinked up at
her.

‘Tika mended you,’ he
said to her mind.

Shea stared back at him
and then said the first thing to come into her head.

‘I am so
hungry!’

Tika and Nesh were
moving away when Gossamer Tewk reached out a hand as if to stop
them. They both paused, waiting for her to speak. But her hand
dropped and she said nothing. A mountainous woman loomed over the
three, looking down at Nesh despite his height and even further
down at Tika who scarcely reached his chest. The woman grinned.
Tika and Nesh could only stare. Nesh was appalled by the barbaric
habit of filing teeth but Tika was rather taken with the purple
stain. It reminded her of Seela.

‘I am Sergeant Essa,’
the large woman said. ‘I consider myself a friend of Gossamer
Tewk.’ She half turned to Gossamer then frowned. Gossamer had sat
back on her cot, her head bowed. Essa, her eyebrows forming a
single dark line above her eyes, turned back to Tika and Nesh.
‘Gossamer carried you out of the Splintered Kingdom,’ she said, and
moved to stoop over Gossamer, one huge hand on the other woman’s
back.

Tika rubbed her eyes.
It felt as if she’d only slept one night, yet from what she’d
managed to work out, twelve or more days had passed. She held on to
Nesh’s arm and they rejoined Emla and Kija.

‘He sleeps,’ Kija
murmured in Tika’s mind. ‘It feels a natural sleep but it isn’t.
Not quite. I dare not probe closer, but at least the pain seems
gone. There are no screams waiting to burst from his mind
now.’

Tika leaned against
Kija’s chest, stroking Farn’s long beautiful face. ‘Did he harm
many?’ she asked.

Kija huffed. ‘Yes,’ she
replied shortly. ‘His anguish reached this Realm, which is why
their Lady sent her people to us and others to find
you.’

A woman approached
them. Tika could sense her inner nervousness but there was no
outward sign.

‘I am Jenniah,’ she
introduced herself. ‘I am Palace-Keeper. Food is coming for you all
but – erm – I wasn’t sure what. .’ she trailed off, staring up at
Kija.

Kija lowered her head,
her eyes, each as big as a man’s double fist, whirred a soft
buttery gold. ‘We eat meat Lady Jenniah, but I have no hunger yet,
and my son is, as you see, unable to eat for now.’

Kija had wrapped her
words in pulses of soothing calm and Jenniah visibly relaxed. She
leaned closer to see Farn’s face.

‘Poor lad. Let’s hope
he’s soon himself again.’

Kija and Tika knew the
Palace-Keeper spoke in all innocence, with no idea how accurate her
words were.

‘Is there anything
particular I can bring you young lady?’

Tika smiled. ‘Whatever
you serve, will be most welcome. But I would like to know where
your Lady is – your First Daughter I think she’s
called?’

Kija and Tika, and both
Emla and Nesh, sensed the roil of emotion in the
Palace-Keeper.

‘She is recovering. She
will sleep until she is fit.’

‘How long might that
be?’ Tika asked. ‘I need to thank her for saving us
all.’

Jenniah’s eyes filled
with tears. Her voice was the barest whisper when she replied. ‘The
most senior healers of the Realm are with her. They say it may be a
year before our beloved First Daughter awakens.’

Chapter
Twelve

Veranta, Imperatrix of
Kelshan and the Confederacies, had broken a great many antiques in
the last dozen days, as well as a lot of more mundane crockery. Her
personal staff moved round her as quietly and warily as they could.
A few courtiers suggested the Imperatrix was demented with grief at
the disappearance of her daughter Shea, but they were the courtiers
with an eye for promotion. The councillor, Raffer, had not been
seen since Veranta had him removed from a meeting, escorted by her
guards. The Advisor Waxin Pule, his apprentice Grent, and Veranta’s
daughter Lady Shea, had not been seen either. The search for Shea
had been cursory at best, but extremely intensive for Advisor
Pule.

Veranta stood in her
office this morning, staring out over the lower Citadel and the
sprawling City beyond. Brisk boot heels warned of General Whilk’s
arrival. Veranta sat behind her desk and folded her arms. The
General entered, his green uniform impeccable, and saluted the
Imperatrix. She waved him impatiently to a chair.

‘News from Captain
Lessur?’ she demanded.

The General remained
impassive but he was wondering just who, among several
possibilities, was the spy in his offices.

‘Indeed my lady.’ He
withdrew some creased papers from the top pocket of his tunic and
passed them over the desk.

Veranta almost snatched
them in her eagerness to read what they told. She got up still
reading, and went to stand in front of the great map on the
wall.

‘They have made better
time than I’d hoped they would,’ she remarked.

‘They certainly have my
lady. They could be in the foothills of the Barrier Range by
tomorrow evening. And I do beg you to allow me to ride to join
them.’

Veranta turned, chewing
her lip, an unfortunate habit which did nothing to improve her
plain face. So far, she had adamantly refused to let Whilk go with
the “expeditionary force” despite his repeated request. She’d said
he was needed here in case of trouble to the north, among the wild
clans; in case of unrest within the City, of attack by pirates from
the Sunset Isles. He’d countered every argument but her last: that
he was too old. By Simert’s Balls, he was less than ten years older
than her own forty-three years. And a damn sight fitter too, he’d
wager. Now he held his breath and his tongue while Veranta thought.
She tapped the papers against her cheek.

‘Yes,’ she decided. ‘I
think you should be in command on the field.’

The General rose with
alacrity. ‘I can leave at once.’ He spoke as calmly as he could
manage: he didn’t want Veranta changing her mind now.

‘There is still no
indication of Pule’s whereabouts.’ Veranta sat behind her desk
again.

The General remained
standing – he did not want to delay escaping, as he viewed it, from
this unstable woman. But he felt some response was in
order.

‘No hint at all my
lady?’

Veranta shook her head
and spoke almost as if to herself. ‘Nothing. Ternik can find
nothing.’

General Whilk schooled
his face to complete blankness although his thoughts churned.
Ternik? Tutor to Veranta’s girls? Was she really the mage they’d
known was in the Citadel and had been unable to find?

‘Never mind General.
Now I expect frequent reports. Horses and riders are already staged
along the route to the Range.’ She handed him a sealed packet.
‘Those are your orders. You do not need to read them until you have
joined with Captain Lessur. I wish you a speedy and successful
expedition.’

The General snapped to
attention, saluted, and left, trying to contain his pace to a
regular step, rather than running as he would dearly have
preferred. Within the hour he was on the road with four men he
trusted. Several others, attached to his staff, would be furious
when they discovered he’d already left, but he’d have at least half
a day’s start if they dared to follow without specific
orders.

General Whilk had made
time to send a coded message to one of his contacts telling her
that Ternik was the mage they’d sought and warning her to alert the
others in the secret Web. Now, riding steadily south, he had time
to consider the packet inside his saddlebag. If Ternik was the
mage, then it was more than likely something had been put on the
seal, the wrapping or the orders themselves. When the seal was
broken, Ternik would know, or perhaps it was a directional spell,
able to give an exact plotting of his location. General Whilk
grinned fiercely, and wondered what his father would think of him
now.

His father, Gallit, had
been chief of the Mountain Cat Clan, who made the long journey to
Kelshan many years ago. He had been much impressed with Jarvos,
both as Imperator and as a man. Gallit trusted him and swore his
clan’s oath of loyalty to him. But in the last twenty years of
Javros’s reign, the clans heard tales of the Imperator’s heir,
Veranta. They learned, from traders, merchants, and their own
spies, of Veranta’s wilfulness and spite. Gallit sent his youngest
son Whilk, to a merchant with family ties to the Mountain Cat Clan.
There, Whilk was taught the ways of Kelshan. He was provided with
papers, showing he was the merchant’s nephew, and thus he was an
official citizen of Kelshan.

After several years
working as a guard for merchant caravans, Whilk applied to join the
Imperium guards. He was twenty-six years old. His rise through the
ranks was steady but swift, and gave him an ideal position from
which to observe the increasing corruption within the Citadel. He
had learned of the Web from his “uncle”, the merchant, and had
become a Spider, passing information along the Web’s strands. Whilk
knew only two other Spiders personally, and one of those had
disappeared as completely as Waxin Pule, his apprentice, and the
Lady Shea. And she had vanished at the same time. He had sent his
warning to Snail, the Embalmer, a woman he had never
met.

The villages Whilk and
his four men passed were getting smaller and spaced further apart
already. Officer Kestis pushed his horse up with the General.
‘First staging post ahead sir. Do we stop?’

Whilk shook his head.
‘Only to change horses. Grab some food if you need to, then
straight on.’

Kestis dropped back and
left the General to his thoughts. The old herb woman from the
clans, Nenat, had disappeared too. Whilk fervently hoped all these
missing people might somehow be together. He’d seen Seola at the
gate, having her papers checked, and he had met her once in company
with Nenat. His pulse speeded up, thinking of just what Seola might
represent.

All his childhood he
had heard stories of the Dark Realm. Very different tales to those
told by the Kelshan people. It was said the Dark Ones had visited
the clans on many occasions, and the old clan mages insisted they
still did. Now, he had the chance to enter the Dark Realm and, no
matter what Veranta’s orders were, he would not enter leading an
attacking force.

The five riders swept
along a track between greening fields and could see ahead a corral,
with several horses already restless at their approach. Three days,
maybe four, using the high quality horses the Imperium bred for
speed and endurance, and he would reach Captain Lessur and his four
thousand infantrymen.

Captain Lessur was
feeling queasy. His force was camped beside a small shallow river,
with the hills beginning to rise only a short distance above them.
Beyond the hills, marched row after row of sharp peaks, reaching to
the very sky, Lessur was sure. He felt queasy because Ternik had
just spoken inside his head, telling him General Whilk was on his
way at speed.

Lessur had been
speechless when Veranta casually informed him that Ternik was a
mage. Fortunately Veranta didn’t notice Lessur’s silence – it
wasn’t his conversational skills that had landed him in her bed
after all. By no amount of generosity, could Lessur be considered
sharp minded. But even he realised what the outcome would be if the
people of Kelshan learned the Imperatrix was employing a mage.
Veranta herself had instigated the rooting out of all such people –
one of her first acts after her accession. Those who used only
herbs and simples to heal were spared, and many of those kept very
quiet about any other abilities they might have.