Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series (18 page)

Chevra frowned. ‘Was
there any warning given?’

Lessna shook her head.
‘The traders had taken copper out, to the Delmans and to Meorlah,
returning with cargoes of spices.’

Chevra began to pace.
‘And none of you, expert mages all, can find out what these Wendlan
mind meddlers are up to.’

‘Sir we have
concentrated on other disciplines, like recovering the arts lost in
the Wars of the Elders,’ Sheoma began.

Chevra spun on his
heel. ‘How many thousands of years ago did those Wars occur? And
you’ve discovered precious little from what I hear.’ He scowled
round the table. ‘I want General Koolis here tomorrow morning. I
want a report on the state of my warships. And then I suggest you
lot start finding out how to get into a Wendlan mage’s mind. Fast.’
He marched to the door. ‘Tomorrow. Early. With some
answers.’

‘Ignorant pumpkin,’
muttered Taseen.

The company discovered
Tika and Farn were gone in the morning, along with the other
Dragons, but Leaf was perching on a jutting rock. She held Tika’s
boots and the white cloak was across her knees.

‘We decided I would
take Tika’s place,’ she announced calmly. It wasn’t clear who the
“we” implied. ‘Seela was concerned that nine of you have walked
from the north and word may have been sent ahead that nine
strangers travel to the City. Willow thinks that two sacred white
cloaks in your company would definitely be noticed so – I will
become Tika.’

She hopped down from
the rock and stepped daintily towards the fire on which Pallin was
brewing the morning tea. She rested a tiny hand on Sket’s
arm.

‘You will guard me now
please, knowing the Dragons and my siblings guard Tika?’

Pointed white teeth
showed in a quick smile and her head tilted quizzically at Tika’s
personal guard. He jerked a nod at the gijan.

‘She’ll be safe with
them and you’ll be safe with me.’

Once back on the main
trail, they made good speed - when they’d devised a means of
packing Tika’s boots to save Leaf from blisters. Brin mind spoke
them regularly, telling them Tika was deeply ashamed but as yet
unready to communicate directly. She felt she had let them down by
succumbing to her feelings. Brin told them also that they had seen
Harbour City ahead of them and he relayed a mental picture to the
company. All, including Ren, were dumbfounded at the endless sprawl
of buildings lining a great curve of coastline.

‘Storm longs to reach
the sea again,’ Brin said. ‘I believe we will have to stay near the
outermost edges of this place but do not worry: we can find you by
your mind signatures quickly enough should you need our
presence.’

‘I sense the use of
power within this place,’ Seela added. ‘It seems concentrated in a
large group of shelters built high set on the sunrise side of the
City.’

‘We will be wary,’ Ren
assured them.

Khosa was content to be
carried by anyone who offered as they made the final approach to
Harbour City. They found many tracks joined into the one they
walked now and there were far more people and wagons around them.
Khosa, from her position high on Gan’s shoulder, peered down her
short nose at the sight of Kephis clinging to sacks on carts and
scuttling underfoot. One trader with whom they walked for a league,
showed a great interest in Khosa. He was a well dressed man, middle
aged, with jewelled rings winking on every finger and in his
ears.

‘I have never seen a
cat quite that shade,’ he remarked. ‘Is it for sale?’

‘That would greatly
depend on the price,’ Gan began, then winced as claws dug deep into
his neck. ‘She is much valued you see.’

‘I would pay well for
such a rarity,’ the man pressed. He dug in a pocket in his robe and
gave Gan a small wooden disk. There was a long legged white bird
painted on one side with a fish beneath it. ‘Come to my trading
house should you reconsider. Anyone will tell you where it is in
the business quarter.’

He slowed his pace to
talk to another similarly dressed man who had joined the throng
from yet another side trail.

‘We could do with some
coin,’ Maressa remarked.

Khosa began a wailing
growl. She spat when Maressa turned innocent eyes up to
her.

They spent most of a
day walking, with fields to either side of them: as Olam had
predicted such a vast City needed a great supply of foodstuffs.
Several times they were pressed to the sides of the track and
squads of armsmen, dressed in brown trousers and shirts with
jerkins of hardened leather, passed by at a steady trot. The noise
increased: goats, hens, the strange cries of the many harnessed
donkeys, creaking wheels, children’s yells and men’s shouts. Leaf
was clinging to Ren’s arm, their faces well hidden within the
hooded cloaks. They had found no place to rest at midday and the
gijan’s feet were rubbed sore.

Gan was fully aware of
the sidelong glances many people gave when they saw the two cloaked
figures. He nodded to Olam to close up on each side of Ren and Leaf
as they approached the great red wall that enclosed Harbour City.
The track narrowed and the crowd perforce slowed their pace. Slowly
they filtered through a gateway, just wide enough for two wagons to
pass. Three armsmen stood casually to either side of the gate,
scanning those who passed before them. Gan saw one of the armsmen
on the left catch sight of Ren and Leaf. He leaned to say something
in the ear of one of his fellows. Gan moved straight to the left
and inclined his head slightly, his bearing and uniform
unmistakeably that of an armsman of superior standing.

‘Would you tell me
where I may find a temple of the Elder Races please? I escort two
sacred ones but all of us are unfamiliar with your
City.’

The three guards had
instinctively straightened as Gan spoke and now the eldest
nodded.

‘The first temple is in
Peacock Way sir, second left after Dolphin Square.’

Gan glanced in the
direction the man indicated and could see only a heaving mass of
people, a jumble of buildings and balconies and the waving banners
of market stalls. The armsman caught Gan’s rueful grimace and
turned away, leaning into a dark doorway set in the
wall.

‘Boy!’ he
bellowed.

A boy of perhaps seven
cycles popped out of the door.

‘Guide them to the
Elder Races on Peacock Way.’

Gan held out his hand.
‘We lost all our coin on our journey – we cannot pay the child for
his services.’

The armsman stared
shrewdly up at Gan. ‘No matter this once I’m sure sir.’

Gan smiled. ‘I will
repay you as soon as I rectify the matter of coin.’

The man shrugged. ‘A
tin penny won’t bring me to ruin sir, but as you wish.’

‘Your name, so that I
may repay you,’ Gan insisted.

‘Karn sir.’

‘Thank you Karn. Mine
is Captain Gan Jal-Sarl.’

With another bow Gan
turned and nodded to the boy. ‘Lead the way child.’

Gan’s immense height
gave him the advantage of seeing where the child led them. The men
formed a tight knot around Ren and Leaf while Gan walked close
behind, his arm firmly locked round Maressa. The directions had
sounded quite straightforward when Karn spoke them. But the route
the boy took them twisted and turned through narrow alleys, wider
streets and finally across what Gan guessed was Dolphin Square. Gan
felt Maressa’s body trembling and knew he too was beginning to find
the constant press of rushing bodies unbearable.

The boy darted through
an archway and the company stood for a moment in a small empty
yard. The boy gestured to the building beyond, its double doors
open above a shallow flight of steps.

‘The temple of the
Elder Races,’ he piped, and disappeared into the crowds outside the
arch.

Pallin wiped his sleeve
across his face. ‘I understand why Zenidor fled the place,’ he
grunted.

Navan pointed at the
windowless walls to each side of the doors. On both walls was
painted the same symbol they’d seen on Zeminth’s token: a Dragon’s
long face with flaring feathered wings to either side. These were
well painted. The Dragon face to the left was black, its carefully
executed prismed eyes slate grey. The feathered wings were silver
with brilliant scarlet tips. The Dragon on the right wall was dark
green, its eyes pale lemon. The wings were red, tipped with gold.
They stared at these paintings while they regained their composure.
Leaf stood on one leg, tugging off a boot. Sket helped her with the
other one, then shook his head at the bleeding blisters across her
toes and heels.

‘I can’t wear them
anymore today,’ she whispered. ‘No one will notice I’m
sure.’

The cloak touched the
ground but as soon as she took a step, the high arched four toed
feet were clearly visible.

‘Let’s see if Zeminth’s
name is truly remembered here,’ Gan suggested.

He and Maressa went
first, through the doors into a dim atrium. A narrow central aisle
led them deeper until the side walls pulled away into a circular
chamber. Hangings of threadbare cloth hid the walls but a circular
plinth stood in the centre. Lamps and candles flickered round the
short stone column amid scattered flowers. Five robed figures knelt
around the stone, heads bowed. Another slowly swept the floor. The
sweeper looked up and came across to them.

‘How may we serve you
in the name of the Elder Races sir, lady?’

Gan cleared his throat.
‘Zeminth of the north sent us.’

The kneeling figures
turned their heads then got to their feet.

‘Zeminth?’ one echoed.
‘Hariko Vos Nornay will be glad to speak to any who come from
Zeminth.’ He bowed. ‘I am Taza, priest of this temple,’ he
introduced himself.

He glanced at the
sweeper. ‘Send a runner to the Higher Academy. Hariko Vos Nornay
must know of these visitors at once.’

The sweeper hurried
away and Gan moved forward to better view the column with its
offerings. He spun back hearing gasps behind him. Taza was staring
at Ren and Leaf’s shrouded forms in astonishment.

‘Sacred Ones,’ he
whispered. ‘None have come to this City in my forty years of
service. How may I serve?’

‘A bowl of tea would be
a really good start,’ Pallin replied promptly.

Sket gave a vigorous
nod of agreement.

‘Come,’ said Taza. ‘I
should have realised – you must be travel weary indeed. We keep
rooms here for any who need shelter whether they follow the Way of
the Elders or no.’

He led them to a door
concealed by a hanging and ushered them through. One of the robed
ones accompanied them, the three others returning to kneel by the
column. They found themselves in a comfortable common room, a
kettle hissing softly over a small fire.

‘Please take your
ease.’ Taza busied himself setting out bowls while the company sank
onto chairs and couches with sighs of relief.

Sket helped Leaf to a
bare bench where her feet swung clear of the floor and her hidden
wings could hang behind. The robed one who’d followed them into the
common room approached Leaf. She carried a large bowl of water in
her hands and a towel over her arm.

‘I am Taza’s wife
Zada,’ she said, kneeling in front of Leaf.

Sket reached for the
bowl. ‘I will attend to the sacred one,’ he said
politely.

‘No, no. We are here to
serve and who greater may I serve than a sacred one?’

Before Sket could say
more, Zada had dampened the towel and pushed aside the folds of the
white cloak, reaching for the sacred one’s foot. She grasped it
gently and tutted at the bloodied toes. Then she grew quiet, her
hand moving ever more slowly as she stared at Leaf’s foot. Wide
hazel eyes looked up into the depths of Leaf’s hood. Silence
reigned as the company saw what had happened.

Slowly, Zada reached
for Leaf’s other foot and bent her head to wipe away the blood and
torn skin. She pulled the cloak back in front of Leaf’s knees and
sat back on her heels.

‘Who are you?’ she
asked simply.

A gusty sigh came from
inside the hood and two tiny hands reached to push the cloak away.
Zada’s eyes filled with tears as Leaf’s black wings shimmered half
open, revealing the pale rose under feathers.

Chapter
Eleven

Taza dropped to his
knees. Pallin struggled to his feet and went to continue the
brewing of the tea. Ren unfastened his cloak, laid it to one side
and found he’d become the focus of Zada’s attention.

‘A gijan I recognise,’
she breathed. ‘But I know not what race you are sacred
one.’

‘Human. Drogoyan to be
exact. And I am no more sacred than Sket.’ Ren smiled, transforming
the stern lines of his face. ‘My name is Ren and the gijan is named
Leaf. Let me introduce you to all our company – beginning of course
with Khosa.’

Khosa had jumped onto
the bench beside Leaf and begun a fastidious washing session.
Pallin handed round bowls of tea. Taza and Zada were beginning to
lose their stunned look when there was a tap on the door. Before
anyone could move, the door opened and a slender man of about
thirty cycles strode in.