introduce the
gijan: Leaf, Willow, and Piper.’
Chapter
Seven
Seola asked for a quiet
place where she and Nenat might rest and begin to focus their
thoughts on the attempted healing which lay ahead of them. After a
brief word with Cyrek, Jemin vanished to the barracks with Captain
Soran. Cyrek went outside with Ren to watch Navan’s continuing
tirade at the three gijan. Cyrek offered no comment but Ren had the
sense that the Dark Lord knew much more than appeared to be the
case. Navan finally wound down and dismissed the gijan with strict
instructions to behave and to stay close to the House. He waited
until they’d gone out of sight and turned to Ren and Cyrek with a
rueful grimace.
‘It’s the only way to
treat them every now and then, but they’re good hearted enough I
think.’
Ren pursed his lips.
‘Which is more than I could say about their Elders.’
Cyrek quirked an
eyebrow but people began emerging from the House, forestalling
further conversation. The healer Nesh walked between Seola and
Nenat, slightly behind Lady Emla. They passed through some glossy
shrubbery and rounded a corner. Ahead stood a Pavilion. Kija and
Brin reclined on the grass and a much smaller, smoky grey Dragon
lay by Brin, watching the people approach. As they passed the
Dragons, Cyrek paused and looked across at the grey
Dragon.
‘That’s Storm, Lord
Cyrek,’ Navan murmured. ‘He is Farn’s great friend. He finds this
situation very hard to bear.’
Cyrek went closer and
Storm reared back, pushing himself onto his haunches, eyes
whirring. Cyrek touched the young sea Dragon gently between the
eyes, as he had touched Kija. He spoke in a low voice and Storm
lowered himself to the ground again, his eyes slowing their
dizzying spin. No one had yet spoken of Cyrek’s terrifying
transformation when he faced Kija earlier, but all had understood
it had been a statement of power. Seola halted some distance from
the Pavilion’s closed doors. She glanced around.
‘If it is agreeable, I
will see how far he has gone.’
Nesh looked worried but
Nenat nodded. ‘I will accompany you,’ she said firmly.
But Seola had frozen,
aware of a sudden surge of power close by. Cyrek felt it too. Their
heads snapped to the left where they could just see another roof
line above low flowering trees. They both turned sharply to
Emla.
‘What is that
building?’ Seola asked, her tone stern.
Emla was nonplussed but
as she began to explain it was merely another Pavilion, a bell
chimed twice.
‘Oh.’ Emla bit her lip.
‘It holds the circle. Someone or something has just come
through.’
Two guards appeared as
she spoke, escorting a man and a woman.
‘Thryssa!’ Emla
exclaimed. ‘And Kwanzi! But why are you here? Tell me there’s
nothing amiss in Vagrantia?’
‘No my dear.’ The
couple had reached Emla and both embraced her with obvious
affection. ‘Your last message spoke of help for Farn. We could do
nothing less than offer any support you may need.’
The woman smiled, then
she saw Seola and Cyrek standing motionless, their eyes gold as
sunlight. The High Speaker of Vagrantia was rarely lost for words
and she wasn’t now. Her smile didn’t falter as Emla hurried to make
introductions. Her husband, Kwanzi, slid his hand under Thryssa’s
elbow and bowed.
‘I am a healer,’ he
said. ‘If you need to take strength, mine is yours as you have
need.’
Seola frowned. ‘I’m not
sure I follow?’
‘Those of us blessed
with the ability to reach power, often share our strength. One
healer may actually tend a patient but he or she can draw on the
strength of others if they are willing.’ His brown eyes twinkled.
‘The Dragons have immense reserves of strength; they have helped us
on several occasions when our talent was insufficient.’
Seola glanced at Cyrek.
‘This is not done among my people. We help each other to a degree
but you are describing a melding of your power with another’s?’ She
looked to Kwanzi
gijan: Leaf, Willow, and Piper.’
Chapter
Seven
Seola asked for a quiet
place where she and Nenat might rest and begin to focus their
thoughts on the attempted healing which lay ahead of them. After a
brief word with Cyrek, Jemin vanished to the barracks with Captain
Soran. Cyrek went outside with Ren to watch Navan’s continuing
tirade at the three gijan. Cyrek offered no comment but Ren had the
sense that the Dark Lord knew much more than appeared to be the
case. Navan finally wound down and dismissed the gijan with strict
instructions to behave and to stay close to the House. He waited
until they’d gone out of sight and turned to Ren and Cyrek with a
rueful grimace.
‘It’s the only way to
treat them every now and then, but they’re good hearted enough I
think.’
Ren pursed his lips.
‘Which is more than I could say about their Elders.’
Cyrek quirked an
eyebrow but people began emerging from the House, forestalling
further conversation. The healer Nesh walked between Seola and
Nenat, slightly behind Lady Emla. They passed through some glossy
shrubbery and rounded a corner. Ahead stood a Pavilion. Kija and
Brin reclined on the grass and a much smaller, smoky grey Dragon
lay by Brin, watching the people approach. As they passed the
Dragons, Cyrek paused and looked across at the grey
Dragon.
‘That’s Storm, Lord
Cyrek,’ Navan murmured. ‘He is Farn’s great friend. He finds this
situation very hard to bear.’
Cyrek went closer and
Storm reared back, pushing himself onto his haunches, eyes
whirring. Cyrek touched the young sea Dragon gently between the
eyes, as he had touched Kija. He spoke in a low voice and Storm
lowered himself to the ground again, his eyes slowing their
dizzying spin. No one had yet spoken of Cyrek’s terrifying
transformation when he faced Kija earlier, but all had understood
it had been a statement of power. Seola halted some distance from
the Pavilion’s closed doors. She glanced around.
‘If it is agreeable, I
will see how far he has gone.’
Nesh looked worried but
Nenat nodded. ‘I will accompany you,’ she said firmly.
But Seola had frozen,
aware of a sudden surge of power close by. Cyrek felt it too. Their
heads snapped to the left where they could just see another roof
line above low flowering trees. They both turned sharply to
Emla.
‘What is that
building?’ Seola asked, her tone stern.
Emla was nonplussed but
as she began to explain it was merely another Pavilion, a bell
chimed twice.
‘Oh.’ Emla bit her lip.
‘It holds the circle. Someone or something has just come
through.’
Two guards appeared as
she spoke, escorting a man and a woman.
‘Thryssa!’ Emla
exclaimed. ‘And Kwanzi! But why are you here? Tell me there’s
nothing amiss in Vagrantia?’
‘No my dear.’ The
couple had reached Emla and both embraced her with obvious
affection. ‘Your last message spoke of help for Farn. We could do
nothing less than offer any support you may need.’
The woman smiled, then
she saw Seola and Cyrek standing motionless, their eyes gold as
sunlight. The High Speaker of Vagrantia was rarely lost for words
and she wasn’t now. Her smile didn’t falter as Emla hurried to make
introductions. Her husband, Kwanzi, slid his hand under Thryssa’s
elbow and bowed.
‘I am a healer,’ he
said. ‘If you need to take strength, mine is yours as you have
need.’
Seola frowned. ‘I’m not
sure I follow?’
‘Those of us blessed
with the ability to reach power, often share our strength. One
healer may actually tend a patient but he or she can draw on the
strength of others if they are willing.’ His brown eyes twinkled.
‘The Dragons have immense reserves of strength; they have helped us
on several occasions when our talent was insufficient.’
Seola glanced at Cyrek.
‘This is not done among my people. We help each other to a degree
but you are describing a melding of your power with another’s?’ She
looked to Kwanzi
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