Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series (49 page)

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Authors: E.M. Sinclair

Tags: #epic, #fantasy, #adventure, #dragon, #magical

BOOK: Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series
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Gan realised at once
that Tika was not here. When he saw that Seela was missing as well
he was filled with the chill of foreboding. Maressa was nearest
Farn as the ground trembled again. Farn’s head turned, checking
around the garden.

‘Where is my Tika?’ he
called. ‘Does she still sleep inside?’ His eyes began to whirr
faster and he rattled his wings in increasing agitation. ‘I cannot
feel her mind! Where is my Tika?’

The paving under their
feet buckled and stone flags snapped in half. Zerran emerged from
the temple, supporting himself against the wall. He began to speak
but the three Dragons suddenly bellowed in grief and outrage. Brin
and Farn reared erect, the death song of the great Dragons pouring
from them. Storm also rose erect but he did not know the songs of
the great Dragons so stood in silent sympathy. Huge tears rolled
down all three faces and Maressa slumped against Gan. Ren swayed
towards Jakri whose mind had also received Seela’s call as she
died. Gan met Zerran’s eyes over Maressa’s head. Zerran could only
nod and manage a tremulous smile before he turned back into the
temple.

When the Dragons
lowered themselves they found the humans had grabbed their packs
and were ready to go. Farn was more distressed than Gan had seen
him since the creatures of the Void had attacked them on the
Sapphrean coast. He looked in vain for Sket before he guessed Sket
had gone with Tika. The realisation gave him a crumb of comfort to
hold on to as he joined Jakri and Maressa on Brin’s back. Ren, with
Khosa in her sack, climbed cautiously on a trembling Farn while
Navan took Akomi with him on Storm.

Leaf shot skyward and
Ren clutched wildly at the edge of Farn’s wing as he followed. It
was plain that Farn was oblivious to all except his desperate need
to locate his soul bond. Even high above the city, the low rumbling
roar reached them. The riders looked down and saw the buildings
moving, swaying, collapsing in dust shrouded heaps. Gan watched as
the perimeter wall of the city slumped inwards. He was guiltily
grateful that he could not hear the cries of people no doubt
crushed in the devastation. Lifting his gaze ahead, he was
surprised to see the gijan Leaf some way in front, her wings
beating in powerful strokes.

Nearing midday, they
were all in a state of shock. The earth still shook and split open;
great fissures opening beneath them as though the ground had grown
jaws with which to swallow trees, livestock, people, and closing
them again with a jarring snap. Leaf slowed and began to descend
and the riders saw Willow and Piper below on a seemingly steady
piece of pastureland. The Dragons landed, even Brin breathing hard
from the speed of their flight. Farn stumbled, almost tipping Ren
over his shoulder, and Maressa ran towards Tika’s soul
bond.

Ren slid from Farn’s
back, immediately loosening Khosa’s carry sack while Farn collapsed
to the ground. His eyes whirred more slowly but their colour was
alarmingly faint. Ren caught Farn’s long face between his hands,
forcing his mind into the young Dragon.

‘Farn, she may be all
right. Did you feel her death? Farn!’ he shouted aloud, tightening
his hands and shaking Farn’s head. ‘Answer me, light damn you! Did
you feel her death as we all felt Seela’s?’

Jakri had joined them,
his hand lightly against Farn’s brow. Whether he did anything or
not Ren wasn’t sure, but a spark kindled briefly in a prismed
eye.

‘No,’ Farn whispered.
‘I didn’t feel that, but I can feel nothing from her – nothing at
all.’

‘Farn.’ Ren was
determined to bully Farn out of this pit of despair into which he
was sinking too quickly. ‘Farn, remember Sapphrea? When Tika
collapsed after we fought those red eyed creatures? She shielded
herself – even against you, while she recovered her
strength.’

Ren was unaware that
everyone stood watching him as he waited for Farn to
respond.

‘What you say is true,’
Farn agreed at last. ‘But if she has collapsed somewhere here, then
we have to find her.’ He pushed himself up a little, staring in the
direction of what had been the estates of Mage Councillor
Vorna.

They all followed the
direction of his gaze. A line of blackened grass delineated the
exact position of the outer edge of Valesh’s disruptive field.
Beyond was a vista of grey, black and brown rubble. What had once
been buildings were low humps of burnt stone and in the centre of
this still smouldering circle was a crater. Ren was about to speak
but Jakri cut in first.

‘Farn, you cannot find
Mistress Tika’s mind signature, but it would appear that your
friend Sket is with her. Can you perhaps find his mind?’

Ren could have kicked
himself for not thinking of such an obvious plan and waited for
Farn’s answer. Brin had moved closer and he too was clearly
extending his senses over the large area of devastated earth before
them.

‘Yes,’ Farn murmured.
‘Sket is there somewhere, within that hole.’

The gijan were already
airborne, skimming low before vanishing below the level of the
ground. Navan had stepped onto the ruined earth and bent to pick up
a large chunk of soil. It felt warm and he tossed it across to Gan.
The solid looking block crumbled when it hit Gan’s palm and he
frowned. He walked onto the burnt ground a little further than
Navan. The soil crunched, losing its firmness and becoming fine
dust which drifted slowly up behind him. He stared across the
league to the crater where the gijan had disappeared.

‘This is too dangerous
to walk on,’ he said thoughtfully. He took another step forward and
his foot sank calf deep. Navan grabbed for Gan’s arm as Emla’s
Captain pulled himself free. He moved back, onto the undamaged land
and turned to the companions. Farn slept and Jakri nodded when Gan
raised a questioning brow. Yes, Farn would be a risk on this
terrain if he lost control. Gan studied Storm and Brin.

‘Can you see where the
gijan have got to?’ he asked. ‘Whatever you do, don’t land anywhere
on the burnt land.’

Maressa was sitting
down, sorting through the packs for her medical supplies and
remedies. She desperately missed Sket’s presence – he was the one
who was always ready in such emergencies. Now it seemed highly
probable that he would be the one in need of help.

Tika had no idea where
she was. She seemed to be travelling rapidly down dark tunnels but
somehow she could see. Not that there was much to take note of:
jagged black rock, with other tunnels at intervals. She found the
tunnel she travelled widening into a large chamber, but it was as
featureless as the tunnel. She was aware that it was her mind
travelling here: she didn’t have an inkling of where her body was.
Perhaps she was dead. The thought didn’t bother her until she
remembered Farn and pain lanced through her.

‘That’s right, think of
him,’ a voice told her.

She spun round but
there was only the empty black cavern. But she had recognised the
voice.

‘Seela? Is it you?
Where are we?’

‘This is one of the
places Between and I cannot stay here long. And you should not be
here at all.’

‘Are you - ?’ Tika
found she couldn’t finish her question.

‘Dead?’ Seela’s laugh
chimed in Tika’s mind. ‘My body is dead of course, small one. I am
permitted to stay here only a short while.’ Seela sounded vague.
‘Time is of no consequence in the places Between.’

‘Did we destroy
Valesh?’

‘Mostly. A few
fragments survived but even should they reunite, they will offer no
threat.’

‘What is this place
Between? How do I get back to my body Seela – I can feel no life
thread?’

For a panicky moment
Tika thought Seela had gone, then she heard her voice again but
more distantly.

‘You must follow Sket’s
mind. He is nearest. I can help you no more dear one. Places
Between are many. All strange. All different. This is one of the
lesser ones, the place Between life and death.’

‘Seela!’ Tika’s mind
shrieked the Dragon’s name into the empty silence. There was no
reply.

Tika turned slowly: the
cavern had many tunnel openings in its walls, but which one had she
come from – they all looked identical. Her essence, or spirit, or
mind, moved to the nearest. (Was she a ghost, or unbodied forever,
like Grek she wondered wildly?) She went quickly into a tunnel,
following the main path and ignoring the many side openings. She
saw light ahead and hurried faster.

Tika stared. There was
something transparent, like glass but not, sealing her away from
the scene on the other side. Lord Hargon sat propped against a
boulder, talking to someone. Dear stars above, he was talking to
Mist! Tika pressed against the “glass”. Hargon was ill, his face a
skull covered with tightly stretched skin. As she watched, he
lifted a thin hand to Mist’s face and Tika could see how much
effort the movement cost him. The strange window through which she
stared became dark, dark as the walls around her.

She turned and with
rising fear began to search other tunnels. Tika had no sense of
time passing – Seela had said time was of no consequence here and
so Tika couldn’t guess if she’d been wandering one day or a full
ten day. But she did have a sense of weariness. She stopped, trying
to calm herself as Iska had taught her. Was her increasing
tiredness a warning that somewhere her body weakened? This place
was like a puzzle and she must simply try to solve it.

Panic became more
difficult to suppress as tunnel after tunnel led her to dead ends
or to other windows through which she saw scenes she couldn’t begin
to understand. Tika slammed to a halt and sniffed. How could she
smell with only her mind? But she could see, hear and speak – could
she touch? She tried to lean against the wall but had no feeling of
the rock against her arm. Concentrate, concentrate, she ordered
herself. These were irrelevancies. She sniffed again. She could
smell mint, very faintly but very definitely.

Tika tried to follow
the tenuous trail of fragrance, several times losing it as she
turned too soon into the wrong opening. It grew stronger; she was
sure it wasn’t false imagining.

‘Hurry!’

Who was that – Seela
again? Tika dared not stop to question, hurrying on after the
strengthening scent. Although bodiless, she felt as if she was
stumbling now, exhaustion sapping her determination. She turned yet
again and saw a faint grey light at the further end of the tunnel.
It took an eternity to reach it and she was terrified it would be
sealed against her like all the others. Just before she reached the
end, she paused, peering into the dimness. The passage had led her
to a tiny space enclosed in grey black rock. Light seeped weakly
down from a gap well above Tika’s head.

Dust motes sifted in
the line of light and covered the two bodies sprawled on the floor.
Sket lay on his side, his left arm flung across Tika. His hand
looked wrong: coated in dust as it was, she could still see it was
bloodied. She saw her own body lying at an awkward angle, her head
twisted to one side and her right arm outstretched, still gripping
her sword. No dust settled on the blade which nonetheless looked
blackened as though by intense heat.

Something blocked the
light briefly as it moved across the gap high overhead. Tika looked
back at her body and forced herself forward, fearing that her
passage would yet again be barred. But it wasn’t. Without pausing
for thought, she slid her mind back into her body which shuddered
violently. She was aware again of her heartbeat: slow, perhaps too
slow, but she was alive. And she hurt.

From the agonising pain
between her breasts, she guessed her pendant had burnt her again.
Her left hand throbbed somewhere between Sket’s chest and sharp
stones. Everything ached and her eyes were so encrusted with dust
that she couldn’t force them open. She held herself still, praying
she might hear Sket’s breathing but instead she heard rock sliding
and grating as it fell somewhere nearby. Dear stars, after all this
were they to be buried completely?

Tika struggled to
unglue her eyes and stiffened in shock as a hand touched her face.
She felt a cheek laid against hers and then a strong arm slid under
her shoulders, another under her knees. She was lifted against a
naked chest and the dust caking her face split as she smiled. A
high ululating cry reverberated through her cheek and she managed
to croak out the name.

‘Leaf.’

‘My life is yours,’ the
gijan whispered and launched herself up from the depths of the
crater.

 

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

 

It took two full days
for the gijan to locate Sket and Tika. When Leaf and Willow landed
among the companions carrying their precious burdens there was a
flurry of activity. Neither Brin nor Storm had been able to fly far
down into the crater where once Vorna’s library had stood. Brin
tried to explain about the strangely swirling air currents and the
equally worrying changes of temperature. Gan tried to comfort the
huge crimson Dragon – he had never heard Brin admit so openly that
any flying conditions frightened him. Jakri and Ren had discussed
Farn’s state as soon as Jakri made him sleep soon after their
arrival. They agreed that keeping him unaware was best for now: his
life signs were not good, which they all feared was mirroring
Tika’s condition. All three mages checked him regularly as they
waited for the gijan to return.

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