The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Twenty Two

Ana stood smiling at Eva in an unsettling manner. Betrayer, thief and probable murderess she might be, but she had the air of a woman welcoming friends to a garden party.

   'Who are you?' Tren stepped slightly in front of Eva, concealing her view of the woman. Impatient, she pushed him aside.

   'I'm the person who designed this meadow,' the woman replied. 'Glorious, isn't it? Though I can imagine it wouldn't suit your tastes, sorcerer.'

   'You destroyed my friend,' Tren returned, his voice trembling with anger.

   The woman frowned prettily, her forehead creasing slightly. 'I don't destroy people, sorcerer-man. People destroy themselves.'

   'And you don't mind helping them along, if it suits you.'

   The woman shrugged. 'If people are intent on being stupid, they'll find a way without my help. Who's the friend, out of interest?'

   'Edwae Geslin, aide to Lord Angstrun.' Tren threw the words at her like a challenge, but she actually giggled.

   'Ah, the sorcerer boy-child. You've the look of him about you, young man. The same ungainly air, the same youth. Green as curulays, both of you.' She looked back at Eva. 'Is this your partner? I'd think you could do better.'

   'And who are you to judge?' Eva replied coldly. Tren's distress was infecting Eva's composure, but she fought to stay calm.

   'I, madam, am the most powerful summoner in the Darklands just now.’ She beamed at them both. 'And Griel is unmatched as a sorcerer. As a pair, we're unbeatable.' Eva's senses picked up the presence of two whurthags, and moments later the man they'd glimpsed earlier emerged from the shrubs behind Ana. He stood close, smiling genially at Tren and Eva. He was about Vale's age, somewhere in his fifties, vigorous and strongly-built. His pale hair gleamed in the pink-touched moonlight. When he spoke, his voice had a pleasant timbre to it, like mature honey.

   'We have guests? I didn't know we were expecting anyone.'

   'Gatecrashers, my dear, but etiquette obliges us to be polite.' A tea table appeared in the grass, four chairs set around it. Their hostess gestured graciously.

   'Please have a seat, do. There's tea in the pot.' An elegant teapot materialised along with a set of cups, a faint scent of yasmind rising from it.

   'I'm afraid we can't stay. A prior engagement.' Eva stepped away from the table, but the sorcerer was there with his tame whurthags. He smiled at her with deceptive courtesy and pulled out a chair for her.

   'Do stay a while,' he said affably. 'My wife would be disappointed otherwise.' Eva sensed the whurthags ready to spring, awaiting his command. She sat, tense and wary, as Ana elegantly poured tea.

   'You can call me Ana,' said the woman. 'My husband you may address as Griel. And your names?'

   'Eva.'

   Tren said nothing. His face was completely cold. Ana waited expectantly, then shrugged.

   'Then sorcerer-man will have to do.' She smiled, eyeing their appearance. 'You two have had some adventures, if the salt-crusted condition of your clothes is any clue. Had a little sea-bathing lately?'

   'Something of that sort,' returned Eva coolly.

   'Not looking for us, surely?'

   'Looking for whoever is responsible for the deaths of several Glour citizens,' interposed Tren. 'Which I think was you.' He turned a cold stare on Griel, who smiled back rather pleasantly.