Lokant

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

‘It’s been a brilliant jaunt through the Uppers, but if the device has failed there’s nothing more to be done.’ Rufin sat, legs folded, sharpening a knife that was longer than his forearm. ‘Home we go!’

Aysun thought his tone was offensively cheerful under the circumstances. ‘I can fix it.’

Rufin’s blond brows sailed up. ‘You’ve been trying for days.’ He looked up at the sky with its perpetual light. ‘Well. Far as I can tell up here. Feels like days.’

‘I can fix it.’

Rufin shrugged. ‘Right, but make it fast. It’s pure luck that we haven’t lost anyone yet.’

‘And some skill, I like to think.’ Eyas lay stretched out in the moss, his head pillowed on his arms. Aysun hoped he wasn’t as close to sleep as he looked.

Rufin smirked, polishing the blade of his knife with a rag. ‘Some of that, too, but it can’t last.’

‘The skill or the luck?’

‘Certainly the luck. Maybe the skill.’

Aysun said nothing. He couldn’t refute the truth of Rufin’s words. Since they had entered the Uppers, they had been attacked three times by creatures well equipped to kill. Rufin and Aysun had shot their way through most of their ammunition, and Eyas’s efforts at subduing the frenzied beasts had obviously exhausted him. It would be increasingly difficult for them to hold their own against any further attacks.

‘I concur,’ came Nyra’s voice from somewhere above their heads. Having the advantage of wings to protect her from beasts on the ground, she frequently employed them to lift herself out of danger’s path.

‘Your opinion doesn’t count,’ said Rufin cheerfully. ‘You’re the only one of us not likely to be eaten by an ailigray or gored by a drauk anytime soon.’

Nyra didn’t answer. Aysun couldn’t even see her, so well hidden was she by the teal–hued leaves of the surrounding trees.

‘I cannot leave without Llandry,’ said Aysun firmly.

‘Right. How are you planning to find her? I love your family, Aysun, but if it’s a matter of spending months up here trying not to die while hoping to accidentally bump into your daughter, I can’t say I’m up for that.’

‘Got to agree,’ murmured Eyas. His eyes had fluttered shut again.

Aysun’s heart sank. He couldn’t ask them to stay under these circumstances; if any of them were injured or killed it would be solely his fault. But nor could he abandon the search.

‘All right. Home.’

‘Great,’ said Rufin. He leapt to his feet, shoving his knife back into its holster. ‘Nyra? How about that gate?’

Leaves rustled and Nyra appeared, sliding gracefully down from the branches above. She set to work, and within moments a gate hung in the air, shimmering with heat and warping the landscape around it. Looking at it, Aysun shuddered. It had taken all of his courage to step through such a gate before; he wasn’t ready to repeat the experience yet.

Eyas was squinting at him suspiciously. ‘You are planning to come with us, Ays?’

‘Of course,’ Aysun replied blandly. Eyas gave him a hard stare, then nodded.

‘When the device is fixed, call us. We’ll try again.’

‘Thanks.’ Aysun watched as Rufin stepped through the gate first, disappearing from sight. Eyas went next. Nyra waited, glancing at him enquiringly. He gave a minute shake of his head.

‘How will you get home?’

‘I’ll find a rogue.’ Rogue gates opened and closed by themselves, seemingly at random. Recently they had been opening with much greater frequency than normal; this posed a threat to Glinnery’s citizens who did not possess any magical aptitude, as they could not see or sense them. Glinnery’s sorcerers were working hard to close all of the rogue gates before they could send any unsuspecting civilians through into the adjacent world, but nonetheless Aysun was confident enough that he would be able to find one at need.

And if not, he would worry about that later.

Nyra hesitated. ‘Ynara will kill me if I leave you here alone.’

Aysun shrugged. ‘The choice is up to you, Nyra. I’m not leaving, but if you stay I can’t guarantee that I can protect both of us.’

Nyra heaved a long sigh, then turned back to her gate. Aysun thought she meant to step through, but instead the shimmering in the air faded away and the gate vanished.

‘I am our escape route,’ said Nyra, turning back to him. ‘If we get into trouble that we cannot handle, I will open a gate and we will go through it, immediately and without question. You must promise me.’

Aysun promised readily enough. He was secretly relieved that Nyra had elected to stay.

‘The others are going to be furious with you,’ Nyra observed.

‘Probably. Let’s move on.’ Aysun shouldered his pack, but Nyra didn’t move.

‘Rufin was right, Aysun. We need some kind of plan. We can’t just wander aimlessly.’

Aysun nodded. ‘I’m working off the device. It’s got a lot of things wrong, but maybe it has her direction right.’

Nyra looked sceptical, but she didn’t object. Aysun strode away into the trees, burying his uncertainty under an aura of confidence. He heard the sound of Nyra’s wings beating and then she was aloft, soaring over his head.

‘I’ll be lookout,’ she called as she passed.

Twice that day, Nyra’s timely warnings saved him just as he was about to blunder into danger. It was a stark demonstration of how long he would have lasted if Nyra had gone back to Glinnery after all.

When at last they could go no further, Aysun grimly hauled himself up into the branches of the tallest tree he could find. He had no wish to sleep on the ground again, not without Eyas and Rufin to take turns at keeping watch. His sleep was uncomfortable and fitful; after a few hours he gave up and merely sat, watching the colourful landscape of the Uppers changing sluggishly in the sun.

He’d noticed that the changes happened faster when the light was strongest. Not that the light conditions here could ever be termed low, but there were times of the day when the sun shone with particular brilliance. When clouds dimmed the sun and soft rain filled the air, as it now did, the landscape seemed to fall into a half–sleep itself.

A scrap of colour floated past Aysun’s vision and he blinked, jolted out of his reverie. With a quick motion, he caught the fluttering thing carefully in his cupped hands and brought it close to his face to examine.

It was a tiny winged creature only a few inches long from the tip of its long snout to the end of its curled tail. Its wings were dusted with jade and rose colours and it had soft, pearly fur covering most of its body. With a shock, Aysun realised he had seen it before. This creature – or one identical to it – had adopted Llandry after it had strayed into the Sanfaer house. It had been attacked by Sigwide, Llandry’s pet orting, but she had rescued it and after that it had stayed close to her.

Both Sigwide and the winged survivor had gone with her when she had left her parents’ home, choosing to follow Devary in secret. Of the three, only Sigwide had returned to the house. He had assumed that Llandry’s other pet had gone with her into the Uppers.

Perhaps it had. Could he really believe that this was Llandry’s own pet? Surely there must be more like it. But its markings looked identical to the other one he had seen. Could it be coincidence that this one had flown virtually into his face?

Yes, of course it could. He released the creature, disgusted with himself. He was grasping at straws, so desperate was he to discover some trace of Llandry. He turned his back on it and resolutely put it out of his thoughts. For another brief hour he dozed uncomfortably, covering his eyes with his arm to block out the light.

When he woke again, the winged creature was still with him. It sat a few inches from his nose, its snout testing the air. He felt a slight sting as it jabbed him with the tip of its proboscis, and he realised it was its antics that had woken him.

‘What do you want,’ he grumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. The thing took flight immediately and flew a short distance away, then paused expectantly. When he didn’t move, it flew back, bumped his face again and then repeated its motion.

If he didn’t know better than to think so, he might have said it looked like an invitation.

Nyra dropped down from above, landing lightly on the branch upon which he sat. She used her wings to restore her balance, but he was nearly pitched off onto the floor a long way below.

‘Friend of yours?’

He grunted. ‘Think not.’

Nyra sat neatly cross–legged and passed him a handful of fruits. ‘Looks like it disagrees.’

‘It’s free to do that if it wishes.’ Aysun ate his meagre breakfast quickly and he and Nyra set off once more. He had gone barely three steps before a scrap of colour soared past his face on jade–dusted wings. After another three steps, the creature passed again, swooping around him in tight circles. After a few more repetitions of this cycle, Aysun stopped, and Nyra landed in front of him.

‘It’s flying in circles.’

‘I noticed.’ Aysun started walking again, and immediately a flurry of wings shot past his nose and circled. When he stopped, the creature darted away to his left and paused.

‘Huh.’ Aysun repeated this process a few more times as Nyra stood and watched. At length she grinned.

‘Something odd about that.’

‘Reckon so,’ Aysun agreed. He hesitated, then told Nyra about the history of Llandry’s similar pet.

‘Well,’ Nyra said when he had finished, ‘seeing another one the same might be a coincidence. But the chances of a different one showing particular interest in you aren’t high.’

‘Right,’ said Aysun. But he still hesitated. He was obviously being encouraged to go left, but according to his device Llandry’s trail lay straight ahead of him.

Nyra solved it for him by taking off and veering to the left.

‘I’m supposed to be the leader here,’ he called up to her. She ignored him. With a sigh, Aysun trudged after her.

As he walked after his unlikely guide, Aysun had the odd sensation that he was covering more ground than he ought to have been. The landscape flowed past him, melting freely and rapidly into new formations. He passed through glissenwol forests that seemed vast, only to meld suddenly into rolling hills and then into boggy marshes and on into leafy woodland. There was a curious buoyancy to his stride, as though his legs stretched themselves and ate twice the regular distance with each step. Occasionally he saw buildings through the trees or away on the horizon, towers and tree houses and once a sprawling mansion. But he was drawn on relentlessly, never given pause to examine the structures that he glimpsed.

He was taken into a narrow pass through a series of mountains that had abruptly shimmered into view moments earlier. Beyond it lay a house built from stacked stone, with mullioned windows and a walled garden visible to the rear. The architecture was wholly Irbellian in style, of the traditional sort popular in his grandfather’s day; it looked so familiar that he instinctively stopped to examine it more closely.

A buzz sounded in his ear and he caught himself before he was tempted to waste too much time here. But then his winged friend flew over the gate and made its meandering way through an open window at the front of the house.

A few moments later, the door opened and a grey–haired woman appeared. On seeing him, she clapped her hands together, beaming.

‘He’s here!’ she called. ‘And oh my, is this Ynara?’ Nyra descended from the skies to stand next to him. Her lips quirked into a grin at that.

‘Not a bad thing to be mistaken for Ynara,’ she murmured.

‘Hm. Doesn’t look like her.’ The voice was a male one but Aysun couldn’t see who spoke.

‘Come out, and say hello.’ The grey–headed lady in the doorway stepped aside, ushering someone else through. The man who emerged was stooped, his hair closer to white than grey, but it took Aysun less than two seconds to realise who this was.

‘Hello, son,’ said his father.

Aysun stared, his mouth set in a grim line. Then, wordlessly, he turned and walked away.