The Draykon Series (1-3)

Lokant: Chapter Thirty-One

Llandry was in draykon-shape and on the wing, Pensould flying at her side. The towering caps of Waeverleyne's glissenwol dwellings had just appeared on the horizon when the first screams reached her ears.

Draykon cries, unmistakeably.

We're too late!

She beat her tired wings harder, forcing herself to triple her speed.

Peace, Minchu, it may not be as you fear.

She ignored Pensould's counsel, all her thoughts bent on her mother and father. She cursed herself, cursed Limbane and Pensould, cursed everything. Limbane had sworn that time as she knew it was not passing while she had been cooped up in the Library, but how could that be true? If so then Isand had reached Waeverleyne with impossible speed.

Remembering the other draykon's boundless anger, though, perhaps it was not impossible. She was driven by the sort of fury Llandry had never known. She should have anticipated that, spared no effort herself to reach her mother before Isand had time to enact her plan of revenge.

As she arrived in the skies over Waeverleyne with Pensould hard behind her, all other thoughts faded. She saw Isand, flanked by two draykons Llandry had never seen before. She took in the crowds of panicking Glinnish citizens filling the ground and the air, some fighting to escape the city and others, stupidly, watching the conflict.

Then she saw the lone human figure that hovered in the air before Isand's massive jaws. Slender and frail she looked in contrast, her black hair blown loose by the wind, her dark blue wings beating fast to hold her aloft.

Llandry would know her mother anywhere.

Ynara was holding a length of rippling white fabric. The sight sent her heart plummeting; she could have told her mother that parley would not work on Isand.

Then yours is a double betrayal and you shall be among the first to fall.

The words were Isand's, spoken at a volume to cause Llandry a small whimper of pain. She screamed a warning, screamed again as Isand struck her mother to earth. Watching Ynara plummet to the ground, Llandry shrieked with uncontrollable fury.

Ah, now she understood how Isand felt.

Pensould's voice joined hers in a shattering roar. He flew to the attack, but Llandry angled down, down to the ground. She was human again in seconds, changing so fast that she couldn't walk properly on her human legs. She staggered to her mother's side and dropped down beside her.

'Mamma! Ma, speak to me.'

No use; Ynara lay unconscious, blood covering the lower part of her face and bruises everywhere on her honey-coloured skin. She didn't wake.

Sigwide lay in the moss where he'd fallen from Llandry's back. She felt a twinge of pain from him as he staggered onto his feet.

Ouch, he grumbled.

She scooped him up, hugging him close as several human figures ran towards her. One woman dropped to her knees on Ynara's other side, ripping open some kind of bag.

'I'm from the infirmary,' she gasped, breathless from the run. 'I'll take care of her. I need you to move away, miss.'

Llandry felt like clinging to her mother, all her adult rationality wiped away in the wake of pure fear and anxiety. She forced it down, nodding.

She couldn't help to heal her mother, but she could avenge her injury. Finding the ball of anger still coiled inside her, she cultivated it into a blaze of fury.