Orlind by Charlotte E. English

couldn’t
think of anything to say to that. She just stood, enjoying the
little warm glow that Pensould’s words evoked, somewhere in the
vicinity of her heart.
    ‘ Now,
why did you come? Was it to tell me these things, or are we to
begin our work with Master Orillin and Miss Avane?’
    ‘ Um.
Yes, we must do that soon. But I really came because... well, I
think it was because... I had bad dreams.’
    His brows went
up. ‘And you wanted me?’
    She nodded,
feeling desperately uncomfortable. It sounded so pathetic when
spoken aloud. But it was significant. Somewhere along the way,
Pensould had replaced even her mother as the person she went to
when she needed to feel safe. Perhaps it was a product of his long
vigil over her sleep.
    Pensould’s smile
broadened, and the horrible distance in his manner vanished at
last. He opened his arms.
    ‘ Well,
Miss Llandry, let us make you comfortable again. Then we may see
about the others.’
    A mere moment’s
hesitation, and Llandry was wrapped up in his arms. For the first
time since she’d been pulled from her dream, she felt safe and warm
and completely at home.
     
    Finding Orillin
might be a problem, she realised, as she and Pensould set off in
the direction of Avane’s room. He hadn’t been seen since Limbane
had taken charge of him.
    In the end,
though, it was easy, for Orillin had found Avane first. Llan
entered her room to find the Darklands woman occupying herself with
a pair of knitting needles and an enormous ball of wool, some
half-completed garment dangling from the needles. Orillin had
evidently rediscovered the joys of childhood, for he was on the
floor, playing a game with Avane’s two-year-old son, Lyerd. Llandry
couldn’t figure out what Orillin’s totally unselfconscious antics
meant, but the child was shrieking with glee.
    Avane smiled when
she saw them, and put her knitting away. ‘Hush, Ly,’ she said,
picking up her son. To Llandry’s relief he did quieten; those
shrieks were ear-splitting.
    Avane was more
familiar to Llandry than Orillin, so Llandry rested her attention
on her. The sorceress was more than ten years older than Llandry,
but so mild-mannered and easy-going that she’d proved easy to get
along with, even for Llan.
    Not that there’d
been much time to get to know her yet. That would change
now.
    ‘ It’s
time,’ Llandry said, smiling as Lyerd fastened his chubby arms
around his mother’s neck and clung.
    Avane winced.
‘Just a moment, then. Yora offered to babysit.’
    The name wasn’t
familiar to Llandry, but it didn’t seem to be something she needed
to know about, so she didn’t ask. ‘Do you know where the chart room
is?’
    Avane nodded on
her way past, her dark curls bobbing. ‘Limbane showed
me.’
    ‘ Could
you meet us there? It’s the only place big enough for four
draykoni.’
    ‘ Definitely,’ Avane said. ‘Ten minutes.’ She collected up a
selection of Lyerd’s toys, then disappeared out the
door.
    Orillin picked
himself up off the floor, dusting down his clothes. ‘What’s the
chart room?’
    ‘ Oh,’
Llan said, surprised. ‘I thought Limbane would show
you.’
    ‘ He
said he didn’t have time for a full tour.’
    ‘ I
could explain, but it’d be better to just go straight there and
have a look at it.’
    ‘ Very
well, milady,’ Orillin said with a bow. ‘Lead on!’
    Llandry opened
her mouth to object - she was no lady! - but she shut it again.
Orillin’s manner was teasing, though not in a cruel way. He
probably hadn’t meant it seriously.
    Keeping her
fingers linked through Pensould’s, she led the way to the chart
room.
     
    The sheer size of
it always took her aback, even though she’d been here many times
before. The ceiling rose and rose, so far above her head she could
barely see the domed shape that it took at its very top. The width
and length of the room were immeasurable, or so it seemed. The
walls were actually screens, covered in names; once in a while the
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