Orlind (11 page)

This theory made
too much sense to be discarded, but having failed to capture
Orillin, why would Krays abandon the project? The only reasonable
things for him to do were to try to take Orillin from Limbane’s
Library, which was unlikely to succeed, or to look for another
target.

‘
Any
idea what Ana was doing here?’ Tren said.

Good question,
Eva thought. If she wasn’t reporting to Krays what was she
doing?

Unfortunately
Indren could only shrug. ‘It occurred to me that it might be
possible to convert her to our cause. She’s already betrayed Krays
once, and suffered pretty badly for it. But she wouldn’t speak
openly to me. There’s something else, though,’ Indren added. ‘Krays
gave us a new research topic.’

‘
Oh?’
Devary sat up. ‘What is it?’

Indren rolled her
eyes. ‘Nothing that makes any more sense than the last one. We’re
researching the Off-Worlds, specifically their changeability.
You’ll know that the Lowers have been Changing more frequently than
they used to, and there have been some anomalies in the Uppers as
well. I’m assuming this new project has something to do with all of
that, but you never know with him.’

‘
Their
changeability?’ Eva repeated. ‘How, exactly? What are you
measuring?’

‘
Krays
wants reports on everything that’s been happening in the Off-Worlds
since the draykoni re-emerged. He also has us digging into old
texts, looking for theories - or better, hard fact - on the way
those places work.’

‘
I
suppose it’s futile to ask if he gave you any idea why he’s
interested.’

Indren’s mouth
twisted. ‘Of course it is. He never shares.’

‘
Anything else to tell us?’ Devary asked.

Indren shook her
head. ‘Greyson might have something, but I doubt it. He usually
passes everything on to me.’

Eva wondered who
Greyson was, but didn’t think it worth interrupting to
enquire.

‘
Can
you talk to Greyson?’ Devary asked. ‘I need both of you to send
everything you uncover to me. I’ll be staying in Draetre for a
while. In turn I’ll make sure that Limbane gets it, via her
ladyship there.’

Indren’s eyes
brightened at the news that he’d be staying, and she consented to
his request immediately.

‘
A few
things in particular, Professor,’ Eva said. ‘Those machines bother
me, and Krays’s absence bothers me. If you learn anything at all
about those, please send it along immediately. Even the faintest
suspicion may be of interest.’

Indren smiled
ruefully. ‘If your Limbane may be the means of getting rid of that
man, I’ll gladly do anything you ask.’

Eva nodded, then
froze. Rikbeek’s thoughts touched hers, shrieking an alarm. He’d
seen something. Someone, in fact, though the image he sent her was
too shaky for her to determine details.

If Rikbeek
thought him or her a danger, that was good enough for
her.

‘
Time
to go,’ she said, standing. ‘Quickly.’

Tren, Devary and
Indren were on their feet immediately, the latter two firing
questions at her. She had no attention to spare, for Rikbeek’s
warning turned suddenly to a mixture of panic and furious anger. He
was under attack. She ran to the door and grabbed the key, but
before she could get it open a familiar female voice spoke from
behind her.

‘
Is
this yours?’

She turned. Ana
stood in the middle of the room. She’d used the Map to bypass the
door, of course.

In one of her
hands she held, far too tightly, a screaming Rikbeek.

Chapter Eight

Llandry felt
strange, being in the Library without Eva and Tren. Or Devary. She
was alone with a great many strangers, some of whom looked to her
for guidance.

Well. Alone
except for Pensould, who sometimes disturbed her much more than any
stranger could.

True, the Lokants
largely left them alone, which she appreciated. Not that she
supposed they did so for her benefit; rather, any stray humans (or
human-draykoni) wandering the Library were irrelevant to their
lives and doings. At least Limbane was in a good mood. When he’d
seen Orillin and realised who he was, his face had reflected all
the deep relief Llandry herself had felt when she’d found her
mother awake. Though Limbane’s relief doubtless had entirely
different causes.

She hadn’t yet
told him that Orillin would be leaving again soon.

On her return,
Llan had left the disgustingly cheerful boy in Limbane’s care,
locked herself in her room and endeavoured, with only moderate
success, to catch up on her sleep. That would be in short supply as
soon as she returned to Waeverleyne.

Anxiety wouldn’t
let her rest, however. Her sleep was uneasy and frequently broken;
when she was asleep she dreamed of the destruction of Glinnery in
horrifyingly vivid detail.

So she gave up,
and went in search of Pensould.

‘
Hi,’
she said a little nervously when he opened his door. He smiled
readily enough, though the expression lacked the degree of warmth
and delight that he used to turn on her.

‘
Hello, Llandry,’ he said. ‘Come in.’

Something about
this greeting bothered her. It took her a moment to work out what
it was.

‘
You
used my name.’

Pensould shut the
door behind her. ‘Don’t I usually?’

‘
Never. You’ve always called me “Minchu”.’ The word meant
“mate”, or so he’d told her. Pensould had used it to refer to her
ever since he’d re-awoken.

He shrugged. ‘I
am learning your human ways. If you do not wish to be Minchu, I
must call you something else.’

He was doing a
reasonably good job of pretending he didn’t care, but Llan knew him
better than that. For the first time in their acquaintance, he was
honestly hurt. It showed in the way he wouldn’t quite look at
her.

That struck her
far more forcibly than anything else had done.

She remembered
the way he’d looked when she had first revived from her
self-enforced slumber. Haggard, weary, worn down by worry. Why had
he felt that way? Had he feared that, as a human born and bred, she
might die more permanently than draykoni usually did? Or had he
been afraid that she might simply choose the Long Sleep instead of
him?

For the first
time it occurred to her to question how much of his own life-energy
he’d used up trying to help her. Not just her but her mother, too,
for her sake. He was odd, very odd by human standards. Towards her
he had begun by being pushy, presuming and controlling, all traits
no self-respecting human girl would accept in a lover. But he was
showing that he could learn. Already he had stopped trying to
control her.

Perhaps more
importantly, he was
willing
to learn. And in the short time
she’d known him, he had shown her as much unconditional love and
support as her own parents.

And she’d
summarily dismissed him, as though he was worth nothing to her.
That wasn’t true.

‘
Pensould,’ she began, and waited until he met her eye. ‘Umm...
I should explain some things.’

He didn’t look
interested, but at least he was listening.

‘
I’ve... never been good with people. They frighten me. For
almost my whole life, there’s only really been me and Ma and Pa,
and that was it. I wouldn’t let anyone else near me. But you... you
didn’t wait for an invitation. No one’s ever been so, um,
determined.’ She ran out of words and stopped, hoping he might
understand.

He didn’t. He
just watched her, expressionless.

Llan took a deep
breath. ‘It’s taking a while for me to get used to you, that’s all.
And you... scared me more than anyone, at first.’

He rubbed one
large hand through his already dishevelled black hair, and sighed.
‘I am sorry for that. It has taken me some time to get used to
you
also.’

She nodded,
disappointed. Nothing she’d said had brought back the unreserved
warmth he’d previously shown to her. And despite her dismay, she
still wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

She was certain,
however, that Pensould deserved better than she’d given
him.

‘
Why
are you afraid of your own kind?’ Pensould asked
suddenly.

Surprised, she
considered this question. ‘I don’t understand them,’ she said.
‘They have expectations that I can’t meet. And...’ It was painful
to admit this next part, but the question merited an honest answer.
‘I’ve always felt superfluous next to Mamma.’

‘
Why?’

Llandry shifted,
uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. ‘Everyone in Glinnery
knows her. She’s part of the government, in the papers all the
time... she’s good at practically everything, and she’s beautiful.
Much more so than me. Everyone who’s seen us together has been
surprised at how much less...
everything
I am.’

‘
And
you resent her for that?’

‘
No!’
Llandry said hotly. ‘She’s my Mamma. And besides, they’re right
about her. She is magnificent.’

At long last,
Pensould gave her a smile. It was only a small one, but it was
something. ‘You didn’t notice, then, that I have been thinking you
much more
everything
than everybody else.’

‘
Because why? You decided that before you even knew
me.’

He rolled his
eyes. ‘Someday, Miss Llandry, I will cure you of the habit of
relying on those pitiful human senses of yours.
You
may not
be able to tell character at a glance, but I can. Well, not at a
glance. You
feel
right, Minchu.’

She thought,
suddenly, of her dream and the presence that had stood guard over
her slumber. Pensould. He’d felt familiar and
safe.
Was that
what he meant?

He was still
smiling. ‘I have never known anyone so unaware of their own
character. There is much more to you than you think, is there not?
This past moon alone you have been brave, and loyal, and unselfish.
You can be self-absorbed, but I think that is because you are used
to being almost the only person in your own life. You are capable
of better. You will be better, and so will I.’

Llan couldn’t
think of anything to say to that. She just stood, enjoying the
little warm glow that Pensould’s words evoked, somewhere in the
vicinity of her heart.

‘
Now,
why did you come? Was it to tell me these things, or are we to
begin our work with Master Orillin and Miss Avane?’

‘
Um.
Yes, we must do that soon. But I really came because... well, I
think it was because... I had bad dreams.’

His brows went
up. ‘And you wanted me?’

She nodded,
feeling desperately uncomfortable. It sounded so pathetic when
spoken aloud. But it was significant. Somewhere along the way,
Pensould had replaced even her mother as the person she went to
when she needed to feel safe. Perhaps it was a product of his long
vigil over her sleep.

Pensould’s smile
broadened, and the horrible distance in his manner vanished at
last. He opened his arms.

‘
Well,
Miss Llandry, let us make you comfortable again. Then we may see
about the others.’

A mere moment’s
hesitation, and Llandry was wrapped up in his arms. For the first
time since she’d been pulled from her dream, she felt safe and warm
and completely at home.

Finding Orillin
might be a problem, she realised, as she and Pensould set off in
the direction of Avane’s room. He hadn’t been seen since Limbane
had taken charge of him.

In the end,
though, it was easy, for Orillin had found Avane first. Llan
entered her room to find the Darklands woman occupying herself with
a pair of knitting needles and an enormous ball of wool, some
half-completed garment dangling from the needles. Orillin had
evidently rediscovered the joys of childhood, for he was on the
floor, playing a game with Avane’s two-year-old son, Lyerd. Llandry
couldn’t figure out what Orillin’s totally unselfconscious antics
meant, but the child was shrieking with glee.

Avane smiled when
she saw them, and put her knitting away. ‘Hush, Ly,’ she said,
picking up her son. To Llandry’s relief he did quieten; those
shrieks were ear-splitting.

Avane was more
familiar to Llandry than Orillin, so Llandry rested her attention
on her. The sorceress was more than ten years older than Llandry,
but so mild-mannered and easy-going that she’d proved easy to get
along with, even for Llan.

Not that there’d
been much time to get to know her yet. That would change
now.

‘
It’s
time,’ Llandry said, smiling as Lyerd fastened his chubby arms
around his mother’s neck and clung.

Avane winced.
‘Just a moment, then. Yora offered to babysit.’

The name wasn’t
familiar to Llandry, but it didn’t seem to be something she needed
to know about, so she didn’t ask. ‘Do you know where the chart room
is?’