The Draykon Series (1-3)

Orlind: Chapter Twelve

No one was surprised to find that the missing draykoni were not in the Middle Realms. Llandry was relieved, though, in a way. She didn't wish to see any other cities suffering the same fate as Waeverleyne; and if she was honest, she didn't want the attention of the Seven Realms to be divided between multiple warzones. Her home city would need all the help they could get if it was to survive.

But when the four draykons had crossed into Iskyr, something else had caught her attention and distracted her from the problem at hand. She had noticed a buzz of disturbance among the animal populations of the Seven Realms; her summoner senses, though untrained, had fed their distress through to her quite clearly. Once in the Off-Worlds, though, that buzz was intolerably amplified.

She extended her thoughts, tentatively touching her mind to that of a few of the beasts that wandered the ground or dived through the air. Wincing, she dragged her mind back. What she felt in their confused brains was madness, pure and simple, the sort created by uncontrollable fear and real panic. The collective effect hurt, and soon a fierce headache beat at her brow.

Avane's silent voice sounded in her mind, full of confusion and pain. What is that?

Pensould dropped back to fly beside the smaller, darker draykon. Llandry could feel him soothing the frightened woman, explaining the situation to her in a soft whisper. She felt for Avane, and Ori: neither of the two had had any time to get used to their new draykon powers before they'd been hurled into this mess.

All Llandry could do throughout the long flight was try to filter out the clamour and keep her mind on the search. They'd encountered the same problem in Ayrien, and by the time their search was over all four were utterly exhausted, body and mind.

They hadn't found any sign of the missing enemy.

Landing carefully in ruined Waeverleyne, the four changed back into their human shapes and found places to sit. Even Ori's cheerfulness was largely gone, eroded away by the demands of their errand.

'What now?' he said, after he'd caught his breath.

'Some of us should sleep,' Llandry said. 'Avane for certain. You also, Ori, if you can.'

'All of us should sleep,' Pensould interrupted.

The prospect was tempting. Llandry's small frame shook with weariness, and her tired mind could barely form sentences coherently. But she couldn't sleep yet.

'I have to report to Pa,' she said.

Pensould sighed. 'Then we will do that together. After which, we will sleep. Is that an agreement?'

Llandry wanted to keep going, but she knew she couldn't, so she nodded. Pense wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her shaking legs from dumping her on the ground. A gentle wave of soothing, strengthening energy poured into her and she jerked away.

'Don't do that!'

'Why not?' Pensould demanded. 'You need it.'

'So do you.'

He shrugged. 'I'm bigger and stronger than you. I can take it.'

'I'm not so feeble!' she retorted, drawing herself up. She set off again, determined to walk the distance without aid.

And she did, too, all the way to Aysun's impromptu engineering workshop (albeit only a short distance). Within, activity was still high. Llandry spotted her father on the far side, bending over some large and violent-looking piece of half-constructed machinery. Three other Irbellian engineers were crouched around the thing. Whatever they were doing looked delicate, but as soon as Aysun saw her he came over.