Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (32 page)

He knew what was in her heart. Ionor had been outspoken in his objections to Sharalind’s war plans. Had she taken him too? He realised that his own arrest had shaken her deeply, and how
upset she was that Chathak and Yinze – and possibly even her dear friend Thara – were going off to fight. Would she lose them too? She must be fighting that fear for every minute of the
day, yet she did not, could not, let it affect her work. She had remained capable, staunch and dedicated throughout a succession of crises, and he had no idea what he would have done without her.
She had held everything together in his absence and, he was ashamed to admit, since his return. His own arrest and ensuing crisis of conscience had shaken him to the core. Since his return he had
been distracted, and had not been giving his best to his Luen, his Healers or his work.

Well, that would have to change. He could no longer afford such self-indulgence. It was time to face up to his responsibilities once more – and the first of these was to take care of this
brave young woman to whom he owed so much. ‘Come along, Melisanda,’ he said. ‘You must put aside Brynne, and all the other troubles that beset us, for a time. When did you last
eat a proper meal? When did you last sleep?’

She blinked, frowned, and then gave an embarrassed little shrug. ‘I can’t remember. The days have all blurred into one.’

‘I thought so. And I, selfish fool that I am, have been letting you do your work and my own while I wallowed.’

‘You weren’t wallowing,’ Melisanda protested. ‘You were arrested, for goodness’ sake.’

‘True – but then I was released, and since I got back I’ve been wallowing, and letting you take up the slack. Well, it stops right now. You’re to go home and
rest—’

‘I can’t go home, I can’t!’ The fine thread by which she’d been holding herself under control was fraying. ‘Don’t make me go back there, Tinagen. So
many of them are missing now, there are too many empty spaces, and now the others are preparing to go too.’ She dropped her face into her hands. ‘We always thought our happy little
family would last for ever. We always thought that nothing could divide us. What innocents we were. What fools.’

In a flash Tinagen was on his feet, and went to put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t despair, my dear. Maybe the war won’t happen. Maybe Cyran will return in time to put a
stop to all this nonsense.’

Melisanda shook her head. ‘I haven’t had a lot of luck with “maybe” lately.’

‘Well, right now you’re in no condition to deal with anything. I’m going to have a meal sent in here, and see that you eat it.’

‘I will if you will.’ She glanced up at him, and for a moment her old spark was back. He was so glad to see it that he gave in at once. ‘Very well. We’ll eat together,
and then we’ll find a bed for you here at the Luen, in a nice quiet room that’s not being used right now. And once you’re there, I don’t want to see you for at least eight
hours – all right?’

Stubborn to the last, she shook her head. ‘I’ll never sleep.’

‘You’ll sleep.’

And I’m going to put something into that food to make damn sure you do.

He patted her shoulder. ‘Trust me, I’m a Healer.’

‘What about Brynne?’ Still she wouldn’t let go of her duty.

‘Don’t worry about Brynne. I’ll deal with her. Our hands may be tied on the issue of having her back, but I’ll see that she doesn’t get away with her behaviour.
Now,’ he added briskly, as he went to the door, ‘I’m going to see about that food. It wouldn’t reflect well on my Luen if I let my greatest asset collapse from
overwork.’

~

K
ea sat on top of Ariel’s Tower at sunset, looking out across Tyrineld. She had taken to coming up here to be alone with her thoughts, for
Sharalind was far too busy to use the flat roof terrace any more, and it was always deserted. It was a perfect place for thinking; private, secluded, and somehow above the cares and tribulations of
the city. The winged girl was desperately missing the mountains of her home, and somehow being in the highest place for many miles around helped to clear her mind.

The terrace was a pleasant place, bounded by a wall that was just the right height to lean on. The view was spectacular in either direction: across the thriving city with its elegant buildings
and blossoming gardens, or across the shimmering ocean and the ships plying to and fro. Within the parapet there were stone benches set into the curving wall, and the circular roof was tiled in a
pretty mosaic. In the centre there were chairs and a table, and large pots of flowering plants brightened the area with their vibrant blooms.

It had only taken a few days for Kea to become familiar with the city. Because she could see everything from the air, it was easy to fix the layout in her mind, and the locations where her new
friends could usually be found. From here she could look down at the places that had become important to her: the two adjacent houses in the pretty square, one of which was Yinze’s, and the
other where she was staying with Thara and Melisanda; Yinze’s Luen of Artisans and the building down near the sea that housed the Dragon Atka. Unfortunately she’d also become familiar
with the Luen of Warriors, where her Wizard companion could usually be found since his return with her from Aerillia.

Kea sighed. Had she been wrong to come here? She was beginning to think so. She should have stayed in Aerillia where she belonged and immersed herself in her work, until she had buried her
growing feelings for this handsome Wizard with the charming smile. It was hopeless anyway. Had she not promised Queen Pandion that there would be nothing more than friendship between them? Mating
between Skyfolk and Wizards wasn’t natural. It had to be wrong.

But what of their friendship? Kea had become close to Yinze back in her own city, when they had worked together on his harp. She had been looking forward to continuing that companionship in
Tyrineld yet, as soon as he’d returned, he had abandoned her for his old Wizard comrades without a backward look. Was she being selfish to expect more from him? After all, he had lost two of
his dearest friends; one dead, one missing. War was brewing, his people were divided against one another and everything was in a state of flux. Nevertheless, surely she had a right to expect better
from him – or had he just been using her in Aerillia, to assuage his loneliness? She felt hurt and betrayed. Maybe she had been nothing but a convenience to him in his own lonely exile, to be
discarded now that he no longer needed her.

It could be no coincidence that a similar situation applied to poor Atka, Kea reflected. Since the Dragon had come here from Dhiammara, Chathak, immersed in his grief over his own losses, had
simply ignored her, leaving her alone to worry about her unanticipated pregnancy and the near-impossibility of caring for a hatchling in this temperate, foreign clime. She would never have guessed
that the Wizards could have proved so fickle.

Only Ionor, it seemed, had honoured his bond with his Mage partner, the Leviathan Lituya, but now they had both absconded, leaving the city at dead of night to return to Lituya’s people in
the north. The Mage of the oceans had sent out a call in mindspeech to herself and Atka the night he left, otherwise she would never have known what had become of him. Certainly Ionor’s
fellow Wizards, even his closest friends, had never mentioned it – at least not in front of her.

Had it not been for Atka, Kea would have emulated the Leviathan and returned to her own people. Chathak, still concerned with his own sorrows, had passed the problem of the impending
Dragon’s egg to the already overburdened Melisanda. Though the Healer had made time for a long talk with Atka, and promised that the Wizards would find a way to care for her offspring when it
arrived, she’d simply had no time to help any further. Apparently, with war brewing, no one cared about the visiting Magefolk students. They had learned nothing since they had come here and
indeed it seemed as if, having plundered the knowledge of the other Magefolk species, the Wizards were not prepared to honour their side of the bargain.

Queen Pandion was going to be furious when she found out – but should Kea be the one to tell her?

The winged girl had a way of sending messages back to her people. She had brought with her a basket of homing birds, trained to return to their roosts in Aerillia, in case she needed to
communicate with her family or Master Crombec in an emergency. So far she had hesitated to send word of the recent happenings in Tyrineld, knowing that once Pandion had discovered the situation she
would inform the Dragon and Leviathan leaders, and all three would be deeply – and rightly – concerned about the consequences of a war between Wizards and Phaerie. She knew that they
should be told, and that as the only Skyfolk representative in Tyrineld she should pass on the information, but Cyran was still absent and she had heard the rumours of Sharalind’s increasing
instability, for when a person had wings it was easy, unavoidable in fact, to eavesdrop on private conversations. No one bothered to look up. Perched on rooftops, cornices and high walls, she had
been privy to the uneasy gossip that spread from mouth to ear to mouth, all over the city.

What concerned her most was the talk of some of the Luen Heads being arrested, and certainly there had been some sudden changes of leadership. It seemed that Sharalind would stop at nothing to
get her own way over this war, and surely it was Kea’s responsibility, indeed her duty, to warn her own people? Yet if she passed information to Pandion, would she not risk being detained as
a spy? It was nerve-wracking to be all alone; a foreigner in a city where the situation was so unstable. Though she despised herself for being a coward, Kea couldn’t help it. She was afraid
and, she suspected, not without good reason.

Of course, there was an alternative. She could go home, and take her information back to Pandion in person.

Once the idea was in her head, Kea couldn’t let it go, and the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. What was the point of staying here? She wasn’t learning anything.
Yinze didn’t seem to want or need her. The journey back to Aerillia would be long and lonely, and it would be a lot more dangerous to travel alone than in a group, but she could make it, she
was sure. Without winged bearers to accompany her she would be forced to leave most of her possessions in Tyrineld and travel very light, but . . .

What about Atka? Lituya has already abandoned us. How can I leave her all alone here in her condition? She can’t get home the way I can – she’s trapped. If I’m lonely
and afraid right now, imagine what she must be feeling.

She wrestled with her conscience. On the one hand, she was neither comfortable, nor happy, nor safe here in the Wizard city. She was homesick, pining for her mountains, her mentor, her family
and friends. But on the other hand there was Atka, now a good friend too, who was equally alone, equally homesick and desperately vulnerable. How could Kea just pack up and leave the Dragon
now?

How could she live with herself if she did?

Kea pondered all these problems, her thoughts circling round and round as the sun began to sink into the western ocean, turning the waves into a blaze of molten gold. The sight was
breathtakingly beautiful, but so dazzling that she was soon forced to turn her back on it, blinking away the glare, to look down at the promontory below the tower and the city that spread out
beyond, its white buildings turned to amber in the honeyed evening light. The air smelled of dust and herbs and sunlight, all overlaid with the fresh, salty tang of the ocean. Throughout Tyrineld,
Wizards were gathering outside, in gardens, on balconies and rooftops; eating, drinking and enjoying this peaceful and lovely time of the day.

It was a magical moment, suspended in perfection. From up on the tower roof everything seemed so tranquil, it was impossible to believe that this was a city torn apart by turmoil and conflict,
and on the brink of war.

Below her, the door of the tower opened. She ducked behind the parapet, afraid of being accused of spying, then did just that, edging up to peer over the sill. Two figures stood on the path
below her. One was Sharalind and the other . . .

First of all Kea saw the wings, and all the breath left her body in a shocked gasp. It was one of the Skyfolk! One of her people was here in Tyrineld. Then she recognised the wings, their shape
and colour, and the face of the person below, and her heart soared with joy. It was Master Crombec, her beloved teacher and mentor.

Kea sank down and sat with her back to the parapet, her emotions all in a whirl. First there was a spurt of annoyance –
does he think I’m so useless that I need to be
supervised?
– followed by an overwhelming flood of relief. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about whether to report to Pandion; someone older, wiser and senior to her was there to
make that decision. Crombec would decide whether she should stay here or return to Aerillia. Maybe he’d be able to help Atka, if only with some good advice. And he was sure to have brought an
escort with him; both bearers and guards. If he did decide that she should leave, she would no longer have to go alone with little more than the clothes on her back.

All these thoughts flashed through Kea’s mind following that first, startled moment of recognition. Then she collected herself and peered cautiously over the parapet again to focus on the
dialogue below, which was clearly the continuation of a conversation that had been going on inside the tower.

‘And of course we’ll be delighted to offer to offer our assistance to our friends the Winged Folk in any way we can.’ Sharalind sounded anything but delighted. ‘I fear
that Queen Pandion will find me remiss in my arrangements for her representative here, but I’m sure you understand that—’

‘Not at all, not at all. Do not trouble yourself.’ Crombec’s voice was soothing. ‘Given the tragedy that has beset your people, especially yourself and the Archwizard,
how could things be otherwise? I’m sure it has done Kea no harm to take time to settle in. And what of Yinze? How does he fare? He must be frantic over his missing sister, and the passing of
such a close friend as your son must have been a terrible blow to him.’