The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (85 page)

Espen rose slowly to her feet. She suddenly looked…old. “I am very happy that you are Rael’s friend and companion. Look after one another and be safe.” She took a few steps toward Shann. The two women met in the centre of the room and hugged each other in silence. Espen turned and hugged her son, her tears staining his tunic, then turned to leave.

When they were gone, Shann sat on the bed once again and stared at the slip of metal in her hand. What would this woman’s act of bravery cost her? Shann made a personal resolution that when all of this was over, she would return here to find out. There was a light knock on the inner door and Rael poked his head around it once more. “It’s less than an ornah before dawn, Shann,” he announced. “I suggest we head for the avionics field so that we can leave at first light to pick up Boxx.”

Shann sighed. Her body wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, but Espen’s sacrifice demanded a response. And she did not want to leave the Chandara on its own a moment longer than was necessary. “I’ll get dressed.”

<><><><><>

Chapter 25

“All right, now push…no, I mean extend your lodest…no, the other one…careful…no ease it gently…
gently
, I said. Brake…
brake
.” Rael landed in an ungainly heap, arms and legs flailing in a belated attempt to regain his balance. He came to rest on his back in the snow, breathing hard, sending puffs of condensing vapour into the frigid morning air. Shann shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, then walked over and extended a hand to help pull the boy to his feet. He accepted gratefully and brushed off the loose snow.

“How am I doing?” he asked cheerfully.

How do you go about telling someone who already lacks confidence that their efforts are pathetic, the results comical, and that they would have more chance of mastering the art of flight if they stood still and waited to sprout feathers?

She forced a smile. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

Four days out from Lechem, and she was beginning to regret bitterly her promise to teach him the lore of flying cloak and staff. During the next two hops; first to Alveth and then to the outer settlement of Koen, which was little more than a jumble of huts and a recharge station, she had managed to stall him on the grounds that the daylight hours were taken up with flying their avionic, and that training in the dark wasn’t viable. Not to mention the fact that they both needed their rest. However, on the third day when they set down on the plateau and continued their journey on foot at Boxx’s direction, she found she had run out of excuses.

It was not that she didn’t want to teach him exactly. But something in her was reluctant to give up her cloak and staff to anyone. The staff and cloak were all that she had of value in this world. They were tools, enabling her to survive and protect others. Yet it was more than that. In some insidious way, they had become a part of her. They represented who and what she was. Handing them over felt like handing over an arm or a leg. Her original darkwood staff had already been snapped in two during the battle with the Kharthrun serpent, and it was only by dint of the wildest good fortune that she had been granted Saccath’s staff as a replacement. If it or her flying cloak were to be damaged in this world…

There was also the fact that by Rael’s own admission, these uplands were by no means free of predatory species. He assured her that they were unlikely to encounter any murghal; the rime slayers tended to infest the high mountain slopes where it was coldest. However, there was the ever-present danger that they could suddenly be surrounded by a pack of valthar, or worse. So Shann settled on a compromise. She would lend him the cloak or the staff, but not both at the same time. That way, she could feel safe to some extent, and at the same time retain at least a part of her identity.

She started the way Lyall had with her: learn how to avoid a fight before you learn how to get into one. Use the cloak to escape trouble and to gain a decisive advantage in height and momentum. She helped him adjust the collar, then stood back to view her handiwork. The cloak was too small for him, making him look faintly ridiculous. However, she doggedly persisted, taking him through the control basics. After his first few inept attempts she was reminded of her own early training. She had got better with time; so would he. Patience, encouragement and a touch of humour to put the student at ease–that was all that was needed.

Only he did not get better. By the middle of the second morning on the plateau, it was becoming evident that the boy had severe problems with co-ordination. It seemed as if his limbs had a mind of their own. He was trying his best, but it was hopeless. At this rate, the only way he would ever manage to defeat a Keltar would be if the unfortunate fellow laughed himself to death.

Boxx sat upright, regarding their antics with an air of detached incomprehension. Then it dropped down on all sixes and led the way forward once more. A freezing wind had blasted the trees and bushes of their leaves like bones flayed of their skin. Overhead, dull grey clouds offered the promise of more snow. By midday the promise was fulfilled, and the air was blowing snow into their faces. Rael called a halt and they sat, huddled under a hastily erected lean-to, waiting for the worst of it to pass.

Boxx lay next to Shann with its head on the ground. Rael, still wearing her cloak, was seated on her other side. He began speaking in low tones. “Shann, do you know where we are going?”

“We are going to find the Chandara–Boxx’s people,” she replied.

“No, I mean, where exactly.”

“No,” she admitted. “We are following Boxx. It knows where it’s going.”

“Are you sure of that?” he challenged.

“What are you talking about?”

“I have been checking our course using the wayfinder,” Rael whispered. “You see that hill over there?”

“Uh-huh.”

“We passed by it late yesterday,” he said. “By my reckoning, for the first few ornahs we headed northeast from the edge of the plateau where we landed. But since then, we have been travelling in circles.”

Shann frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Shann, I’m sure. I can’t help but wonder if…”

“What?” she demanded.

“I can’t help but wonder if it is too old–too senile to separate fact from fiction. Does it really know that its people are here? Or is it just engaged in wishful thinking?” Shann was silent for a moment, digesting the implications. “Shann, look around you. There’s nothing up here. No signs of a Chandara community, and certainly no Great Tree.
Nothing.
Look, I’ll continue to follow for as long as you think it’s necessary. I just thought you should be aware, that’s all.”

It was true that the creature did not even seem to know how old it was. Could it be that it was so aged that its mind had gone? “Hey, Boxx,” she said cheerfully.

It lifted its round head. “Yes, Shann?”

“How much longer till we meet up with your people?”

“I Do Not Know.”

“But you know where they are, right?”

“Yes, Shann. But They Do Not Know Where We Are.”

Here we go again.
“I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“We Are Here. They Are Here. We Cannot See Them. They Must See Us.”

Shann could feel the old headache returning, the one she always seemed to get when she got into an extended conversation with the Chandara. “Could we…let them know that we’re here somehow?”

“No,” it replied. “To Speak To Us Is Of Their Choosing.”

They had food supplies with them, but not enough for an extended stay. “Boxx, we can’t stay here forever,” she pointed out.

It looked up at her, its tiny black eyes unreadable. “Patience, Shann,” it trilled. Then it laid its head back on the ground.

She turned to Rael. The boy returned her look, then hugged his knees and stared out across the snow-white upland.

~

By the following morning, the wind had eased up but the snow was still falling gently. They took down the shelter, gathered their belongings and resumed their weary trek. Shann felt as if she were being pulled in two different directions. Their search for the Chandara was beginning to look increasingly fruitless. However, abandoning it would mean abandoning all hope of finding Annata’s instrument. Their only other hope would be if Rael could build his “gravity wave” device, as he called it, but he had already told her several times that he had absolutely no idea how to do that. “It would be far beyond our current level of technology,” he insisted. In that case it seemed to her that the only thing to do was to continue the search till their supplies ran out–then leave, re-stock and return. She could think of no other option.

They were entering a cut in a small line of hills. Snow had accumulated in the gap, so that their boots sank farther into the deepening drifts. Shann could feel both the numbing cold and the growing paralysis of despair. She had come all this way, journeyed across two worlds and faced untold dangers–and all for what? To end up going round in circles? Rael was right. There was no Great Tree here. She had grown to care for the Chandara, was even fond of it in a way, though so many of her own race despised the creatures. But if indeed its mind had gone, then they were all wasting their time. They might as well all go back to Kieroth and wait for the end. At least there they could spend their last few days warm and well fed, rather than trudging through the snow, frozen cold and starving.

Rael’s voice from behind jerked her back to the present. “Look.”

Her eyes followed to where he was pointing and then she saw it. A tiny lone figure stood a short distance ahead of them, blocking their path. It was covered in a ragged brown cloth, which was folded around its body and swept over its head as a hood. It was grasping some kind of a stick or a staff, which it had planted in the snow. She followed Boxx, struggling through the deep drifts, whilst not taking her eyes off the creature. It continued to stand there regarding them–neither advancing nor fleeing. It appeared to be waiting for them. Now that she was close enough to see, there could be no doubt what the creature was.
Chandara.

However, it was like no Chandara she had ever seen before. Aside from its coverings, it appeared gaunt–emaciated. As she approached, it raised its staff in the air and made a warbling cry. Shann stopped in her tracks and peered through the flurries of snow. Above and behind them, dozens of small figures appeared out of nowhere, bearing staves or spears. They were all clad in the same rough hooded garb.

Shann raised a flattened palm, signalling Rael and Boxx that they should hold their ground. She fixed her gaze on the lone figure ahead, being careful to keep her other hand well away from her staff. The next move was theirs.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. A crudely hewn spear landed flat in the snow at her feet. Shann did not move. She had not come all this way to fight Boxx’s people. She raised her voice so that the whole assembly could hear. “We mean you no harm. We are here with one of your kind.” She indicated Boxx with a slight movement of her head. “We only wish to talk.”

The creatures stood immobile, like statues frozen amid the falling snow.
Did they hear me?
She was about to try again when she saw something approaching. It was tall, easily twice the height of the shelled creatures and dressed in all black attire. The tall figure came up behind the Chandara that was standing in their path and spoke to it. There was a brief exchange; the Chandara responding with its familiar chirping. Then the tall figure moved forward, approaching their position. There was something familiar about the bearing–the elegance of movement. The stranger stopped and pushed back the hood. Long raven tresses spilled forth, framing angular features and eyes the colour of midnight.
Keris.