Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (45 page)

BOOK: Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.)
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‘That is, supposing you defeat the Phaerie, of course,’ Kelon said.

Both women swung round with identical scowls. ‘Be quiet. Your turn will come,’ Sharalind told him, then turned her attention back to Danel. ‘I can see why you find this
individual so annoying, yet he has information that I must hear, so if you would like to return to your people and tell them the good news, I will make arrangements for comfortable housing for
them. But—’ She lifted a warning finger. ‘There will be no more theft, do you understand me? I will see that your companions have all they need, and anyone caught stealing from
this moment on will know no mercy. Make it very clear to them, leader of feral humans. If you wish to build a future in the realm of the Wizards, there are certain standards of behaviour that are
expected – and will be enforced.’

Danel nodded. ‘That’s fair enough. I’ll tell them all right, don’t you worry. There’ll be no more trouble of that kind.’ With that she left, escorted by one
of the guards who had been waiting outside the door.

Sharalind turned to Kelon. ‘Now, Hemifae. What tidings do you have for me that are so important?’

Kelon bowed to her. ‘First, Lady, let me thank you from the bottom of my heart for the chance to be clean again. It was neither in my upbringing nor my nature to live like an animal in the
forest, and you have my profound gratitude for restoring my dignity to me once more – but I will waste no more of your time with thanks,’ he added hastily, seeing signs of impatience in
the tightening of Sharalind’s mouth.

‘Lady, I fled Eliorand very recently, so I can tell you a great deal about current conditions in the city. But I have other tidings of far greater import to bring you. Not long ago, I saw
the Wizard Iriana, and sat in the same room with her—’

‘What?’
Sharalind sprang to her feet, knocking over her chair. ‘Where—’

‘I know what happened to your son.’ Kelon forestalled the question he knew she was about to ask.

Sharalind went absolutely white, and sank back into the chair that Omaira had set upright for her. ‘Tell me.’

Kelon took a deep breath and prayed that he would survive the next few minutes. If she did not believe him, the consequences would be unthinkable. ‘Though Avithan has left this world and
is lost to you, he did not die, and maybe there is even the faintest shadow of a hope that one day he may be returned to you.’

‘This cannot be true.’ Her expression darkened, and the look in her eyes turned Kelon cold. ‘I warn you, Hemifae, you toy with my grief at your peril.’

‘Lady Sharalind, I would never toy with a mother’s grief. I swear on my life that I know why and how Avithan was taken from this world, and far more besides: matters of grave
importance to the future of our entire world. Danel knows some of this information also, and can corroborate my story.’

‘Then why did she never mention it?’

‘Because she is a mere feral human, Lady; uneducated and unconcerned about any matters save those that impact on her immediate survival, and those of her people. I truly believe she did
not understand the significance of the meeting we attended with Iriana and a number of others, including a being of tremendous power who took Avithan beyond the boundaries of our world, in the hope
that he could be healed of wounds that were so grievous he must otherwise have perished. Much was discussed at that meeting, and many matters were made clear. You should understand their
significance, and particularly in the absence of the Archwizard, it is a matter of gravest urgency that you be informed.’

‘Bring the Hemifae a chair,’ Sharalind ordered Omaira. When he was seated, she leant forward, her eyes fastened hungrily on his face. ‘Tell me everything, Kelon, every single
detail – but first, tell me about my son.’

‘Now tell me about your life,’ Incondor urged Chiannala. ‘I’ve told you about mine.’

In the time she had been looking after Incondor, the long hours spent in one another’s company had brought them very close, and it seemed natural to share one another’s secrets. In
was as if their encounter right at the very gates of death had formed a special bond of trust between them.

Incondor had told her of his hatred for Yinze and his fear that the Wizard had revealed to the Queen his plans to smuggle forbidden intoxicating spirits into Aerillia. He had gone on to relate
how he had taken the harp and almost destroyed himself. Now they were coconspirators, Chiannala felt a bond with this alien, foreign Mage that she had never known with anyone else in her life.
‘You won’t find mine so interesting,’ she replied. ‘Oh how I wish I could fly like you.’

‘Once I’m better you will,’ Incondor promised. ‘I’ll have you taken up with me in a net. I still have my bearers here, though they chose to stay outside the city.
They’re from my own household staff and they are very loyal – after what Yinze did to me, they have no greater liking for Wizards than I do.’ Incondor gave her a charming smile.
‘Present company excepted, of course.’

They were talking privately in mindspeech, for other Healers were constantly in the room, one at all times suppressing the Skyman’s pain while the others worked to piece together and
repair the remnants of his wings. Though his general health was improving rapidly due to the advanced Wizardly Healing skills, the structural damage to his wings was taking much longer to mend. The
twisted, shattered travesties of the beautiful feathered pinions still needed to be held together by a framework of bracing struts and splints, and even Tinagen was beginning to look concerned.

Fear was making Incondor impatient and ill-tempered, and his explosions of anger were getting worse and more frequent every day. The Healers had discovered that the only one who seemed able to
calm and distract him was Chiannala, so she was encouraged to spend as much time with him as possible – and it seemed that this was the opportunity that she had so wanted, to get close to
him. During their merging when she had fought to hold him to life, Incondor had discovered that she was not who she claimed to be, but he had not revealed her secret. The longer they had spent
together the closer they’d grown, and now she felt that she could trust him.

In their bonding, and in subsequent conversations, she had already detected a broad streak of ruthlessness in his make-up, and she had a feeling that he would understand her motivation in doing
the terrible thing she had done. She had already made some tentative allusions to half-breeds, not knowing how the Winged Folk reacted to such aberrations, but had discovered that, no matter what
the official position might be, Incondor himself had no objections – in fact, she had a sneaking suspicion that more than once, he’d availed himself of the humans his people kept to
cultivate the lower terraces of their mountains – not something she wanted to dwell on, but at least it helped her own position now.

Oh, it would be such a relief to unburden herself! The strain of keeping up another person’s identity was immense, and she hoped that it would be eased if she had someone to confide in.
So, making certain that their mindspeech was shielded from the other Healers, she took the plunge and told him who she really was, and how she had come to be here.

She had to hand it to him – as her tale of the audacious substitution of herself for Brynne unfolded, not once did his face betray any of his surprise, admiration or even amusement. But
his replies said otherwise. ‘Incredible! Ingenious! And what cool courage it took, to see your opportunity and seize it as you did. Never have I seen such ingenuity and nerve in the females
of my own kind!’

Now Chiannala had to struggle to keep her emotions from showing on her face. ‘Nevertheless, you can’t imagine what a relief it is to be able to confide in someone at last. It’s
been very lonely, Incondor, living another person’s life, and I’m in constant fear of being caught out.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Yet if I had to do it all again, I would.
Living as a true Wizard, being able to develop my powers as they do – anything is worth that.’

‘And now you have a friend.’ Incondor took her hand and grasped it tightly. ‘I owe you my life, Chiannala, and if things go wrong for you here, I promise you will always have a
place in Aerillia with me.’

Was he promising her this from love, or just gratitude? Just at that moment, it was enough to Chiannala to know that he wanted her with him, and cared for her enough to help her, though she
wondered what would happen when he was finally healed, and ready to return home. All her life she had wanted to be here in Tyrineld – so much that she had killed to achieve her aims. No
matter what she felt for Incondor, was she really prepared to uproot herself and lose everything she’d won here?

Well, he wouldn’t be going anywhere yet. At present, she had time enough to wait and see how things developed. If war with the Phaerie was really brewing, who knew what the future might
bring? It was good to know she had an escape route if she needed one.

 

 

 

 

25

~

RESTORATION

 

 

 

 

T
iolani was glad, not to mention profoundly relieved, to be restored to her proper position of honour and respect within the Phaerie court. She was
back in her comfortable old rooms, and though Cordain had stationed a guard at the door, it was such an improvement on the cold, bare chamber where he’d kept her imprisoned that she
didn’t care. It was such a relief to be able to bathe again, and eat whenever she wanted. And what luxury it was, to be clad in a shimmering gown of silver, black and gold brocade, with the
glitter of diamonds at her neck and ears. Her life had improved immensely – but it had not brought her peace of mind.

Now that Ferimon’s treacherous Healers had been rooted out and removed, the damage they had done was being corrected and the Forest Lord’s condition was slowly beginning to improve
at last. Tiolani was glad of it – of course she was – but what would her father say when he recovered and saw what a mess she’d made of things? She had nightmares about it every
time she closed her eyes.

Though she had convinced herself that she owed nothing to her former companions; especially Aelwen, her mother’s own sister, who had abandoned her so callously to whatever fate might
bring, she still suffered inconvenient pangs of guilt at betraying them to Cordain. But what choice did she have? They had left her alone to survive as best she could, so they could hardly complain
about the methods she used. Or so she kept telling herself.

The fate of Varna was also gnawing at her. Her former lady in waiting, Ferimon’s sister and her best friend all throughout her life – or so Tiolani had thought, until she’d
discovered that Varna had been part of the plot to seduce and betray her. The girl had been imprisoned, waiting for her former friend to decide her fate, but before she did so, Tiolani wanted to
confront her, to face her and ask why. How could she have done this terrible thing? She wanted to, needed to ask those questions, but somehow she kept putting it off. She didn’t want to admit
to herself that she was afraid of the answers.

The plan to capture her former allies wasn’t going well, either. Nychan and his warriors had not come back; neither with their prisoners nor, if the traitors had not yet arrived at the
cave, to have the flying magic renewed before going back to resume their vigil. The spell must have worn off by now, so they were stranded between Eliorand and the borders of the realm. She had
been scrying for hours to try and find them, in the hope that the spell could be renewed over such a long distance, but so far she had found no sign of them.

Tiolani’s eyes were stinging from gazing for so long, with such intent concentration, on the silvered scrying glass that was propped on the windowsill. No matter how hard she looked, or
how far she sent her mind winging across the forest south of Eliorand, the image in the mirror was clouded and unfocused, and she could see no sign of what had happened, either to her former allies
or the warriors she had sent to capture them.

‘Well?’ Cordain’s brusque, impatient demand slashed like a knife across her focus, and the vague amorphous forms – the only images she had managed to grasp –
shattered into pieces.

Ablaze with anger, she whirled round from the high tower window with a snarl. ‘Curse you, Cordain! How in perdition do you expect me to accomplish anything when you keep on interrupting? I
can’t renew the flying magic without some kind of image to work on – not at this distance.’

‘Hellorin could always renew the flying spell no matter what the distance.’ There was a nasty, accusing edge to Cordain’s voice.

He had a nerve! There he sat, making himself at home in the most comfortable chair by the fireside, while she was wearing herself into exhaustion, trying to find his stupid warriors.
Tiolani’s hand itched to strike him. ‘And Hellorin might have passed the knowledge on to my brother Arvain,’ she snapped, ‘but considering he never bothered to teach me the
spell at all, because I was only a
girl
, and not his precious
heir
, you can count yourself bloody fortunate that I’ve accomplished what I have.’

She picked up her gold-chased goblet of spiced wine from the windowsill and took a long drink to ease her parched throat. How many hours had she been here now, trying fruitlessly, both with her
mind and her scrying mirror, to make contact with the missing warriors. Wearing herself out trying to put right this stupid old idiot’s mistakes, and what thanks did he give her?

She turned back to Cordain with a fulminating glare. ‘If this mess is anybody’s fault it’s yours, and you only have yourself to blame. I told you to let me go with them. You
should have listened, but no – you knew best. You didn’t trust me. Well, see where it got you. It’s clear now that your precious Nychan has mucked up his mission, or why has he
not returned, or at least sent us tidings?’

‘Perhaps
you
should be answering that,’ Cordain retorted, his eyes as hard as flint. Too angry to sit any longer he rose from his chair and paced away from her, only to turn
back and point an accusatory finger. ‘How do I know they didn’t walk into a trap? How do I know that
you
didn’t betray them? You and those fine friends you arrived with,
Aelwen and Taine.’

BOOK: Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.)
4.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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