Read Darksong Page 34


  The feinna sent a frightened vision of the bed being suddenly overturned and Glynn bit her tongue to keep from crying out in dismay. Please stay hidden, she thought, because there was still the hope that the youngling would not be seen, but at that very moment, she sensed it surge out of hiding and fly at the nearest face. A flashing vision of Mingus rearing back in fright came to her. Then the face tightened and became vicious. The feinna had darted to the closest corner and now turned at bay, snarling and baring its sharp teeth. Glynn saw a short brutal club lifted above the feinna, heavy enough to crush its tiny skull if a blow were landed.

  In horror, Glynn sent with all the authority she could muster: You must yield.

  Fighting! the feinna sent.

  No, Glynn insisted. She had no idea what the Draaka was planning, but what the feinna intended now would ensure its death. Yield and live.

  Biting! the feinna reiterated and coiled in readiness to spring. The feinna part of Glynn wanted it to attack the cold-eyed draakira – saw the rightness of killing such a corrupted being. If there had been any real chance for the feinna to escape afterwards, she might have let it do what it wished. As it was, she must prevent it doing anything that would give the draakira the excuse to harm it, if Mingus even needed an excuse.

  The Draaka was speaking again, but so great was Glynn’s agitation and alarm that she could not take in the words. You must yield, she sent as strongly as she could to the feinna. They have me and, if you fight them, they will kill you and me as well. The feinna’s anguish told her that she had found the right lever. Little brotherling, let them take you and we will escape together later.

  Yielding, the feinna capitulated. Glynn’s feinna senses literally sickened at what it cost the feinna to oppose its own strongest instincts. She had a brief glimpse of Mingus looming over it, then nothing. The feinna had sent itself into a light coma, though it retained a conscious but dreamlike connection to Glynn’s mind so that she was aware of the draakira now circling the little animal’s body warily, finally prodding it to be sure it was not feigning, and only then lifting it gingerly into a basket.

  Glynn was brought back to her own immediate surroundings by a sharp slap in the face. ‘Why do you not answer the Draaka?’ draakira Leta hissed.

  ‘I … I am not sure how to answer …’ she temporised.

  ‘What difficulty is there?’ snapped Leta. ‘Either this Kerd spoke against the Draaka or he did not.’

  ‘He … he said he had heard that the Draaka have a marvellous collection of scrolls and he asked me if I would like to see the archives here.’

  ‘You did not speak of this invitation before,’ the Prime pointed out coldly.

  ‘I forgot,’ Glynn mumbled. At least half her attention was focused on the feinna, which she could feel being carried towards her.

  There was a slight commotion at the door, and Glynn turned with the rest to see Mingus enter the room bearing a woven wicker basket. He carried it to the foot of the dais, bowed and withdrew a few steps, emanating smug triumph. The Draaka reached a black-clad foot and tapped the wicker basket, her black eyes on Glynn’s face. ‘Do you know what is in the hamper, girl?’

  Glynn mugged puzzlement. ‘Is it … is it the pelflyt from the kitchen?’

  ‘Silence!’ the Draaka rapped. ‘You know it is the animal which you carried from the ship!’

  ‘The feinna, Draaka?’ Glynn glanced at the basket again, pretending bewilderment. ‘Is it that you no longer wish me to care for it, Lady? I have done my best but it was sickly from the start and it is sometimes savage. Mayhap it needs fresh air.’

  ‘You are not bonded to the creature?’

  Glynn hesitated for a split second. ‘The He-feinna is too young to bond to me as its mother bonded to Bayard.’

  ‘You feel nothing for the beast?’ the Draaka persisted.

  ‘Bayard was good to me and she wanted to free the feinna younglings. I wanted to do that for her,’ Glynn said carefully.

  ‘What Bayard owned was and is mine to do with as I wish.’ Impatience.

  ‘Of course, Draaka,’ Glynn said meekly.

  ‘So it will not trouble you if I remove the animal from your care, then?’ Glynn was uneasy at the Draaka’s persistence, but she said, ‘I liked my work with the scrolls and Bayard thought I had talent. Would it be possible for me to do such work again if I am not to care for the feinna now?’ She tried to make her expression limpid, earnest and wistful all at the same time.

  Her breath caught in her throat when the Draaka poked a finger towards the casket. ‘Let me see the creature.’

  Mingus unfastened the lid and lifted it away to reveal the feinna lying coiled in the bottom, paws bound. The draakira reached in and lifted it out by the scruff of its neck, where it hung, limp. Glynn clenched her hands so hard that she felt the nails gouge into the flesh of her palm. She could feel the pulse of the little animal’s life, strong and bright, yet her whole body thrummed with revulsion at seeing Mingus hold it. She struggled for calmness, sensing that her agitation was drawing the feinna closer to full consciousness and, in that state, it would not be able to help attacking its captor.

  ‘A sickly scrap,’ the Draaka said. ‘I see no point in wasting time on it. Better to break its neck now and be done with it.’ She nodded at Mingus, who lifted his free hand to the feinna’s neck.

  ‘No!’ Glynn screamed and leapt towards the draakira as the feinna sprang to life, twisted in Mingus’s hands and sank its teeth deep into his wrist.

  17

  The power the Chaos spirit bestowed on Lanalor pained him,

  yet he mastered it. Even so, the Making of the portal was very hard.

  As he wrought, he saw many futures and worlds without end,

  and communed with those who dwelt on them,

  but never after did he use this power to save himself,

  if he had it …

  LEGENDSONG OF THE UNYKORN

  Mingus hurled the feinna from him and the sound of its head cracking against the stone floor was shockingly loud. Glynn heard her own scream as a far-off roar as she spun and struck at Mingus with all the lethal force of her martial abilities. Rage surged through her, obliterated her stiffness from having lain on the ground for so long. The draakira fell like a lopped tree, and Glynn immediately executed two flawless whirling kicks to drive back the others before kneeling beside the youngling. It was conscious, but barely so, blood leaking from one ear to stain its fur. Glynn’s feinna senses told her that its skull was cracked and she wondered how it was that she was not feeling its pain.

  beloved sisterling, we are to part. I spend myself holding back our pain so that it will not mar that parting, the feinna sent. Incredibly, she received from the tiny animal not fear or anger but a wave of compassion for her! But compassion was not a great enough word for the profound kindness of the sending that was both a cherishing of her and a pitying for the pain she must suffer at their parting, and for the long loneliness that would follow. Grace, she thought, suddenly finding a human word that fitted what the feinna sent. It sends me grace.

  Oh she could have wept at the beauty of that moment, but in the midst of a storming of love and pity and grief raging in her mind, a tiny voice whispered to her that the feinna need not die. With treatment, kept still and warm, it could live. The thought gave her the courage to pull herself together and invoke the reaching spar her mind had developed, linking her to the feinna on yet another level. She poured her own strength and vitality into the little beast. Enough to sustain it for a time; to hold it to life.

  The draakira had formed an uneven circle around them by now. Some had drawn the long, slender, grey-black blades used by the cult members in ceremonies of sacrifice, and she felt their intention to kill her. She could fight them. Maybe even win her way free, but the feinna would die if it was moved.

  Go with the flow …

  A great chilly rage swept through Glynn, cooling the heat of her desperation to a point of hard, icy stubbornness. The Dra
aka’s belief that Glynn was destined to reveal the Unraveller to the cult was their sole hope now. She lifted her eyes to the cult leader who had neither spoken nor moved since issuing the command to kill the feinna. Glynn’s feinna senses detected a controlled watchfulness and Glynn calmed in the sudden realisation that in exposing her link to the feinna, she had given the Draaka the best reason to keep the feinna safe. All she had to do was to make it clear that her welfare was linked to that of the little animal. It struck her suddenly that she could also use the link as an excuse for her behavior.

  She dropped to her knees, groaning. ‘I … I am sorry, Draaka. The feinna forces me to defend it …’

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ the Draaka demanded.

  ‘The beast is … is injured and so I suffer,’ Glynn whispered.

  ‘You are linked to the feinna.’ Triumph in the voice like a darting of poison.

  One nod and she kept her head down, fearful that her eyes would reveal her defiance. ‘I knew it was wrong to lie to you, but the feinna would not allow me to speak of the link.’ The truth in the words struck her even as she said them. ‘Truly it did not seem a very important omission, so long as I served you well.’

  ‘She lies!’ Gif hissed. ‘Bayard was not given commands by the She-feinna.’

  ‘Theirs was a different kind of bond,’ Glynn said. Now that she was not fighting, she began to tremble with muscle strain. She did not try to hide her fatigue. ‘But the feinna youngling did not command me to silence as a human master would command a servitor. It has an instinct to secrecy about link mates which it is compelled to obey and so am I also compelled.’

  ‘Did the feinna’s instincts make you do that?’ The hand rose out of the shadows and gestured at Mingus’s prone form.

  ‘The feinna was afraid and I had to fight …’

  ‘You fought like a myrmidon!’ Gif hissed. ‘Did the beast teach you that?’

  ‘I … I don’t know how I knew what to do. I just … reacted to the feinna’s fear.’ She let herself look bewildered, aware that she was on thin ice. The myrmidons on Acantha had also commented that her style of fighting was similar to theirs. What a hellish coincidence! ‘Maybe it was something that I learned and have forgotten …’ she added lamely.

  ‘You still claim to have lost your memory?’ This was the Prime, her voice cool and steady as ever.

  Fortunately Glynn did not have to answer because the Draaka interrupted to ask very casually, ‘Will you die if the feinna dies?’

  Glynn did not hesitate. ‘I think you will see the answer to that question very soon, Lady, for if the feinna is not given treatment, it will die.’ What she did not say was that very soon, the feinna’s ability to prevent Glynn sharing its pain would dissolve and she would begin to suffer as she now only pretended to suffer. But she would not die. Ironically, Glynn must now convince the Draaka of the strength of her bond with the feinna, if she would save it. She looked up, steeling her will and assuming an expression of desperate resignation. ‘It is better if the feinna and I die now, for I would be killed for harming draakira Mingus, I know, though it was not my desire or will to do so. But I say to you that I would have served you well, Lady, despite this link with the beast, for that was my desire and the feinna did not interfere with that.’

  For a long second she thought she had failed.

  Then the Draaka gave a shadowy nod. ‘I will save the feinna while I consider what punishment will serve for this matter.’ She waved an imperious hand and, as some of the draakira tended to the unconscious Mingus, the blanket that had been over her was laid over the feinna and drops of some darkish green stuff dribbled between its jaws. Glynn was fascinated to sense that the little animal’s throat passage closed while it analysed the liquid, then opened again when it was pronounced a strong pain-killer and muscle relaxant designed to keep the body still while healing.

  The Prime herself bent to examine the feinna with a surprisingly delicate touch, and announced the possibility of skull fracture.

  ‘Let the animal remain there,’ the Draaka said lightly. ‘It will be a hostage to your skill at pleasing me, drone.’

  The sadistic pleasure in this statement made Glynn’s skin crawl but she said softly, ‘I cannot help what the feinna link makes of me, nor can the beast help its own nature. It was my wish to serve you.’

  ‘Understand that your wishes are to me as the filth an aspi drops mindlessly behind it,’ the Draaka said pleasantly. ‘What concerns me are my desires. Now, go into the outer salon and await your orders.’

  ‘The feinna …’ Glynn began.

  The Draaka’s face darkened. ‘Do as you have been told, or the creature will suffer,’ she snarled and she lifted her black foot above the youngling’s prone form.

  Glynn backed away, not daring to cast a look at the feinna. Rest, belovedbrotherling. I will return and free you soon, she promised.

  Waiting, it sighed in the depths of her mind. Then its consciousness slipped from her mental spar.

  Outside the room, Glynn paced back and forwards as she waited, loathing the Draaka and Mingus and wishing with all of her heart that she had gone from the ship with Solen when they arrived on Ramidan. It seemed to her that she must have been mad not to have foreseen the perils that would await them in the company of the Draaka. The worst of it was that this was not the first time she had been such a fool. She had walked into danger just as blindly and blithely when she had gone to the haven on Acantha. She had been so stupidly certain she could enter the Acanthan haven, sell her darklinstone, and leave again, unscathed. Instead, she had ended up a drugged slave, and only an accident had brought her to her senses before the drugs had burned her wits away. But instead of learning from her mistakes, she had done the same thing again here on Ramidan! Even the Prime had asked with incredulity why she did not take the opportunity to escape.

  Her rage cooled at the thought that perhaps she had not been so much stupid as what Wind had once called Other Directed. If she had been summoned to Keltor by the Chaos spirit, and had been somehow under its power all along, she would have made exactly the decisions she had made. She had recklessly sworn that she would not, but the feinna was lying unconscious and wounded on the floor of the Draaka’s audience chamber, a hostage.

  Will you serve Chaos, for the sake of the feinna? Will you be the Judas goat?

  Glynn shivered and, with an effort, banished the sly voice of despair. Even if she was right about being brought to Keltor by the Chaos spirit, the link with the feinna could not have been planned or guessed. It was truly random, which meant that, no matter how great its power, the Chaos spirit was not omnipotent.

  Her spirits rose at the realisation that all she had to do to keep herself and the feinna safe was not to find the Unraveller. As long as the Draaka did not suspect that Glynn knew their plans for her, she could just go on pretending to be obedient and craven, until she could find a way to free them both.

  The door to the audience chamber opened abruptly and the Prime emerged. Glynn tried to look as abject and eager as a dog unsure if it would be given a bone or a boot; she was careful not to meet the Prime’s eyes lest the woman detect the revival of her spirit.

  ‘You will go now and collect the pelflyt. Explain to the over cook that your duties kept you from returning yesterday. You will use this interaction, and any other that occurs, to make good your boast of being an adept listener. Learn what you can of Tarsin’s disposition to our delegation. If you encounter Kerd of Vespi, you will encourage his friendship. If he repeats his invitation to view the Ramidani scrolls, you will accept. Draw him to speak of his father’s attitude to his betrothal and his attitude to the Draaka.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But before you go anywhere, cleanse yourself. You stink of vomit. And remember, speak of nothing that has happened to you within these walls or in the haven on Acantha. Any transgression on your part will result in pain for your precious feinna.’

  ‘The feinna …’ Glynn began.

  The Prime cut her o
ff ruthlessly. ‘You have an unfortunate tendency to speak out of turn, girl. Take care this does not cost the tongue of the feinna who has made you its pet.’

  Glynn felt the blood drain from her cheeks. ‘I will do as you have said,’ she whispered. The Prime made no response and Glynn backed away on unsteady legs, a vision in her mind of the Draaka’s black-shod foot hovering above the feinna’s head.

  Please be safe, she sent to the youngling, but there was no reply.

  Returning to her chamber, Glynn washed herself roughly and decided to spend a few moments exercising to calm her mind and unloosen her muscles before she bathed properly. When her mind and body were calm, she would be able to think more clearly.

  At first it was difficult to concentrate, for her thoughts seethed with fear for the feinna. But she persisted, completing her stretching routine and moving seamlessly into a strenuous set of advanced kata movements. As usual she performed the movements slowly, striving for balance and focus, and for the mental stillness that Wind believed essential for harmony and full alertness. She always preferred to do kata slowly, although Wind had required that she spar regularly as well, to improve speed and reflexes. Of course that had been impossible since coming to Keltor.

  Thoughts of past and present jostled together in her mind until the sheer intensity of the most difficult forms demanded her full attention, which was, of course, their point. Gradually her thoughts turned inward to slower and deeper rhythms of life: the ebb and flow of her blood brought her to contemplate the movement of the alien sea seething with dangerous and unknown life forms; the passage through the sky of the twin moons and of Kalinda. By the time she ended the last movement, standing balanced perfectly on one foot, she was calm and relaxed.