Lokant (17 page)

Eva blinked.
Tren?
What did Tren have to do with Lawch & Son?

She checked the date on
the letter. Four days ago... So Tren had been in Westrarc this
week.

For a moment she
couldn’t think how he could possibly have known about Lawch &
Son. It wasn’t something she was likely to have mentioned to him in
conversation. But then she recalled the words of his message to
her.
Any urgent correspondence may be left with Mrs Geslin in
the meantime.

So he had been able to
guess where the Geslin family’s stroke of good fortune had come
from. Eva hoped he wouldn’t despise her for it. Why had he put his
name to the globe? Was it to tell her that he knew about her
actions, and if so was it a gesture of approval? She felt a brief
and wholly unfamiliar flicker of nerves at the possibility that he
might
not
approve.

These doubts were so
uncharacteristic that, for a moment, she hardly recognised herself.
She quickly squashed them and turned back to the globe. The matter
of Tren’s personal opinions could wait: the globe represented a
more pressing question. Why had Tren sent this to her? The design
was unusual, but besides that there was nothing about the globe
that seemed-

It changed colour.

She blinked as the pink
faded away and was replaced by a soothing blue glow. She had seen
globes that changed colour autonomously, but those operated via
mechanics and tinted glass and they required gas and chemicals to
function. This was definitely a sorcerer’s globe. And it had -
presumably - been packed in the box for four days without
interference. How could a sorc globe hold a fluctuating enchantment
for that long?

She found the letter
and perused it again. She’d been distracted by Tren’s name on her
first reading; now she focused on the rest of the text.

...
new type of
glass developed with the help of an Ullarni inventor... think there
is a clear market for these among high society such as your
ladyship’s associates... hope that your ladyship might draw
attention to the sample ahead of the product’s launch next
moon...

Eva dropped the letter
with an exasperated sigh. That the man could think so much of sales
when the functionality was the remarkable thing! Grabbing the
globe, she brought it back down to eye level and examined it
closely. Most globes were made from clear glass, but this one was
not entirely transparent. A glossy sheen covered the surface, and
beneath the blue light were hints of other colours.

The metal cage bore a
hinge on one side and a clasp on the other. She opened it and took
the glass out, running her hands over the surface. It was perfectly
smooth, but now that she held the globe in her bare hands she
noticed a faint buzz of energy warming her skin. It was an echo of
a sensation she had felt before...

Remembering, she almost
dropped the globe. She had owned an istore ring once, until it had
been stolen. She had worn such a thing again later, in the Lowers.
Those rings had been crafted to allow the stone to rest directly
against her skin; wearing them had given her a feeling of strength
and vitality and she had later learned that the stone - or draykon
bone, as it proved to be - amplified her magical capabilities as
long as it remained next to her skin. This glass held a whisper of
that same feeling.

Excitement flashed
through her. If this globe had really been manufactured using some
form of draykon bone, it was exactly the lead she needed. That
there would be more bones to be discovered had seemed beyond doubt,
but she had no means of locating them herself. Apparently someone
else had been more successful.

Taking a piece of paper
from her drawer she sat and began hastily penning a note back to
the factory. Then she stopped. No; why should she trust her query
to the post? She would go in person. Nothing awaited her in Glour
City save another round of futile, frustrating Council meetings, at
which she would be questioned, criticised, harangued and blamed by
her confused and frightened former colleagues. And it was clear
enough that no information of use was to be found in the city
itself.

And after she had
visited the factory, she would make her way to Mrs Geslin’s. Tren
had been there only a few days ago; perhaps he might still be.

But her escape from the
city was not so simple. A messenger arrived from Glinnery, wearing
the uniform of the expedited inter-realm postal service. When he
handed her a note bearing the seal of the Council of Elders, Eva
guessed immediately that it was from Ynara.

Three pictures fell out
when she broke the seal. They were detailed, taken with a top
quality image-capture device. She recognised the blue-green scales
of the draykon depicted: the draykon that Ana woke had indeed
passed over Glinnery recently, though this picture showed
considerably more of the beast than the partial shots that had
appeared in the papers.

The second picture was
of a dark-haired man, obviously enjoying the attention of the
crowd. His eyes were startlingly pale - almost colourless - and he
was powerfully built. She didn’t recognise him.

... until she saw the
third picture. It was slightly blurred, but the subject matter was
clear enough. The device had captured the draykon somewhere in
between draykon and human form; evidently the two were one and the
same.

Here was information to
interest her exceedingly. Had the other draykon already known how
to shift into human form, or had Llandry taught him? Either way, it
was a relief to her to know that the transformation to draykon
shape had not been a permanent and irreversible one for
Llandry.

I managed to
suppress these,
Ynara had written.
I thought I had
suppressed all of the images, but some have leaked out. I’m sure
you’ll have seen them by now.

Llandry has been here
twice, bringing her companion with her both times. He calls himself
Pensould. For what it’s worth, I do not think he poses any threat.
He seems to listen to Llandry. But I have asked her to keep me
informed, and in turn I will keep you informed.

But you should know
that the two of them have gone looking for more of his kind.

Their kind, I should
say.

An official
communication is on its way to the Glour Council, but that last
piece of information is given only to you. I trust you to determine
how much to reveal at present. It may be that they will not succeed
in waking others.

Eva put the note away
with a sigh. She didn’t envy Ynara’s position: her responsibilities
as an Elder were suddenly in direct conflict with her desire to
protect her daughter. Now Eva herself faced the same dilemma.

But if Llandry and
Pensould were no threat, it did not follow that any new draykons
they awoke would be similarly friendly. She penned a reply to Ynara
and a fresh note to Guardian Troste. Into the latter she tucked
Ynara’s pictures. That done, she went in search of Rikbeek.

The gwaystrel was
tucked into a corner of the roof in her conservatory. He always
chose the spot directly above the heater and hung upside down,
wings shut about himself. She knew he did it to keep out the world
- Eva included - but she was without mercy this time. She issued a
crisp order, embedding it in his petulantly protesting mind, and he
came grumbling down to meet her.

‘We’re going
travelling,’ she murmured to him. ‘I need you to keep me from
blundering into any trouble.’ Rikbeek bit her thumb by way of
agreement, and she tucked him into the folds of her skirt.

She wished briefly that
she could take Bartel, her shortig hound, along. The little tracker
dog had been a useful companion before, but she had loaned him to
one of the handlers at the Investigative Office on Vale’s request.
He was of greater use where he was.

Too restless to sleep
and afraid of further delays, Eva saw no point in waiting until the
moon rose. Her carriage rolled out of Glour City in the deep of the
night, while the Night Cloak still shrouded the realm.

***

‘I’m sorry, m’lady, I
don’t know any more details.’ Sensing Eva’s displeasure, the
factory manager was beginning to sweat. Eva fixed him with a
stare.

‘You must know more
than that, Ocherly. The glass was made right here. What did you add
to it? How was it manufactured?’

‘It was a simple
process, m’lady. The powder was mixed in with the sand, then the
rest proceeded as normal. Nothing much out of the ordinary and I
could replicate it for you at a moment’s notice, only there’s no
more of it on the premises right at present, ma’am. We’re in the
process of arranging for a new batch to be delivered but it’s
Ullarn, m’lady, and you know how complicated that can be...’ The
man babbled on, but Eva cut him off.

‘Where in Ullarn are
you ordering it from?’

Ocherly almost ran to
his desk and snatched a handful of papers from a drawer. He sifted
through them until he found the one he wanted. This he presented to
her with a placatory smile.

‘All above board,
ma’am, I assure you.’

The address listed was
for a warehouse in Ullarn’s capital city, Wirllen. She folded the
note and stored it in a pocket of her dress, nodding her
approval.

‘I’m also going to need
the name of the “inventor” you paid to develop this product for
you.’

Ocherly’s nervousness
increased. ‘Ah... with all due respect, m’lady, he did insist on
absolute anonymity-’

‘I don’t
care
.
Give me the name.’

Ocherly held out his
hand for the paper he’d given her and she handed it back. He
scribbled briefly and returned it to her.

Iro Byllant.

‘You have no additional
information about Mr Byllant, I take it?’ Eva’s voice remained cold
and her gaze hard. Ocherly swallowed and shook his head.

‘No, m’lady. He was a
secretive sort.’

Eva stepped back,
relaxing her manner. ‘One last question, Ocherly. Did Mr Byllant
give his remarkable powder a name?’

‘Not that I recall,
your ladyship, no. I barely spoke to him myself as it is.’

‘Describe him for
me.’

‘He was a tall fellow,
friendly enough to talk to but not somebody you’d want to cross, if
you follow me. Your hair colour, ma’am.’

Eva lifted her brows.
In her thirty-eight years she’d met perhaps five other people with
white hair like her own. If Iro Byllant was another, that now
totalled three further adults she had encountered in the last two
moons alone. That total was interesting.

‘Also...’ Ocherly
hesitated. ‘I couldn’t say as how exactly, m’lady, but I got the
impression there was something wrong about him. Physically, I mean.
He wore a big coat that covered him up well, but he moved oddly.
Like some part of him wasn’t working right. And he wore gloves the
whole time.’

‘Thank you, Mr
Ocherly,’ Eva said. ‘You’ve been a great help.’

‘No trouble, ma’am, no
trouble at all,’ he said, evidently relieved that the questioning
was over. ‘May I ask as to why you’re so anxious to know about Mr
Byllant? I hope we haven’t done wrong with the new globe.’

‘I fear you have,’ Eva
said frankly. ‘If it is as I suspect, it isn’t something we want to
be mixed up with. But I may be mistaken. In the meantime, don’t
pour everything you have into this new product. You may find, at
the very least, that the supply of this remarkable powder isn’t as
reliable as you’d like.’

His face fell. ‘I have
to hope you’re wrong, m’lady, but I’ll bear your words in
mind.’

Eva gave him a severe
look. ‘Do that, Mr Ocherly. I’ll be in touch when I know more.’

Eva left the factory
with her thoughts in a whirl. If more draykon bone had been
discovered, she would have expected to hear of more draykons
re-emerging; either that or a trade in the bones themselves, sold
intact to sorcerers and summoners seeking augmented abilities.
Llandry’s jewellery trade had proved that there was a great deal of
money to be made in that area. That somebody could be using it to
develop technologies that were essentially domestic and unimportant
was unfathomable.

But the fact that the
powder had gone unnamed was significant. Judging the bones to be
dangerous, the governments of the Seven Realms had recently taken
to confiscating all examples of the stuff; any trade in whole bones
was now essentially illegal. But if not for Eva’s connection to
this particular factory, the new light globes would probably have
avoided the government’s notice altogether. How many other
businesses had been sold similar products in the last moon?

And if it was draykon
bone - and she had little doubt on that score - where was Iro
Byllant getting his supply? How could he possibly gain enough of it
to guarantee repeat orders to businesses like Lawch & Son?
These questions, she realised, would only be answered by a journey
to Ullarn itself, and that prospect made her shudder.

It wasn’t only that
Ullarn was a closed society given to suspicion and an offensive
sense of superiority over the other realms. The terrain was also
perilous, a fact that the Ullarni saw as an asset. They weren’t
quick to assist travellers. How could she enter the realm and find
Iro Byllant without assistance?

A few ideas occurred to
her. She had status, riches and – most importantly – connections.
It could be done. But she didn’t want to do it alone. She needed
help. And that meant finding Tren.

***

‘He was here about four
days ago, your ladyship, that’s the truth,’ said Mrs Geslin,
sitting comfortably in her parlour with the pinnacle of Glour
society seated opposite her. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t tell you
himself what he was planning to do.’