The Draykon Series (1-3)

Orlind: Chapter Eight

Llandry felt strange, being in the Library without Eva and Tren. Or Devary. She was alone with a great many strangers, some of whom looked to her for guidance.

Well. Alone except for Pensould, who sometimes disturbed her much more than any stranger could.

True, the Lokants largely left them alone, which she appreciated. Not that she supposed they did so for her benefit; rather, any stray humans (or human-draykoni) wandering the Library were irrelevant to their lives and doings. At least Limbane was in a good mood. When he'd seen Orillin and realised who he was, his face had reflected all the deep relief Llandry herself had felt when she'd found her mother awake. Though Limbane's relief doubtless had entirely different causes.

She hadn't yet told him that Orillin would be leaving again soon.

On her return, Llan had left the disgustingly cheerful boy in Limbane's care, locked herself in her room and endeavoured, with only moderate success, to catch up on her sleep. That would be in short supply as soon as she returned to Waeverleyne.

Anxiety wouldn't let her rest, however. Her sleep was uneasy and frequently broken; when she was asleep she dreamed of the destruction of Glinnery in horrifyingly vivid detail.

So she gave up, and went in search of Pensould.

'Hi,' she said a little nervously when he opened his door. He smiled readily enough, though the expression lacked the degree of warmth and delight that he used to turn on her.

'Hello, Llandry,' he said. 'Come in.'

Something about this greeting bothered her. It took her a moment to work out what it was.

'You used my name.'

Pensould shut the door behind her. 'Don't I usually?'

'Never. You've always called me "Minchu".' The word meant "mate", or so he'd told her. Pensould had used it to refer to her ever since he'd re-awoken.

He shrugged. 'I am learning your human ways. If you do not wish to be Minchu, I must call you something else.'

He was doing a reasonably good job of pretending he didn't care, but Llan knew him better than that. For the first time in their acquaintance, he was honestly hurt. It showed in the way he wouldn't quite look at her.

That struck her far more forcibly than anything else had done.

She remembered the way he'd looked when she had first revived from her self-enforced slumber. Haggard, weary, worn down by worry. Why had he felt that way? Had he feared that, as a human born and bred, she might die more permanently than draykoni usually did? Or had he been afraid that she might simply choose the Long Sleep instead of him?

For the first time it occurred to her to question how much of his own life-energy he'd used up trying to help her. Not just her but her mother, too, for her sake. He was odd, very odd by human standards. Towards her he had begun by being pushy, presuming and controlling, all traits no self-respecting human girl would accept in a lover. But he was showing that he could learn. Already he had stopped trying to control her.

Perhaps more importantly, he was willing to learn. And in the short time she'd known him, he had shown her as much unconditional love and support as her own parents.

And she'd summarily dismissed him, as though he was worth nothing to her. That wasn't true.

'Pensould,' she began, and waited until he met her eye. 'Umm... I should explain some things.'

He didn't look interested, but at least he was listening.

'I've... never been good with people. They frighten me. For almost my whole life, there's only really been me and Ma and Pa, and that was it. I wouldn't let anyone else near me. But you... you didn't wait for an invitation. No one's ever been so, um, determined.' She ran out of words and stopped, hoping he might understand.