The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Five

   The letterbox rattled loudly as letters began to tumble into Llandry's hallway. The sound was intrusive, a metallic clatter that frayed her nerves as she tried to work. She braced herself, knowing that the disturbance would take some time. She was receiving more and more mail every day, ever since the Market. Orders for jewellery came in so fast she couldn't fill them all. She hated having to raise prices - it made her feel greedy - but it was the only way to reduce the clamour. Even so, she was working at a ferocious speed day and night trying to keep up. The craze for her jewellery was completely astonishing, but she knew it wouldn't last.

   The letters that bothered her more were the solicitations from other jewellers, enquiring after her supply. She'd considered writing back with the full details, until she recalled Lady Glostrum's advice. Her mother's friend was perfectly right: a true businesswoman knew better than to give away the source of her success. She'd refused the requests - politely, of course - though more recently she'd taken to ignoring them. It seemed as though every jeweller in the Seven Realms was petitioning her for information.

   The letterbox shrieked again, loudly, as something large was forced through it. The sound shattered her concentration and she quickly placed down her tools before she could damage the ring she was working on. She padded through to her tiny hallway, Sigwide at her heels. If she answered the door she could accept all the mail in one go and silence that abominable racket. Stepping over the small mountain of paper on the floor, she unlocked the door and opened it.

   A young man stood on the ledge, struggling with a sack of mail. His arms were full of envelopes, some of which threatened to spill over and sail away to the floor far below. She stepped forward, extending her arms.

   'I'm so sorry. Let me take those.'

   The boy looked harassed. He muttered a thanks as she relieved him of his burden, then glanced around nervously.

   'I wouldn't hang about, miss. Get back inside, quick.'

   She lifted her brows. 'Why?'

   'Um, because-'

   'Miss Sanfaer!' A woman's voice broke in as a slight figure swooped down from the skies, landing so swiftly that she almost knocked the mail boy off the ledge. She held up an image-capture and light flashed in Llandry's astonished face. 'Miss Sanfaer, I'm from the Herald here in Waeverleyne. Our readers are anxious to hear more about your remarkable jewellery. What can you tell us about the istore?'

   Llandry was too amazed to speak. She stared as more figures appeared behind the reporter, many carrying image-captures and notepads. They hovered in the air around Llandry's front door, and more flashes of light assaulted her eyes. More figures appeared on the staircase below, wingless men and women from the other Dayland realms and even one brave (or desperate) man from Glour, his nocturnal eyes completely enclosed inside black-lensed goggles. 

   Stunned, Llandry felt panic racing through her as this swarm of people converged upon her. The mail boy saved her, shoving her gracelessly back into her house and slamming the door behind her. The stacks of mail fell from Llandry's numb arms as she fumbled with the key.

   A knocking sounded at one of the windows. She darted through her house, breathless and shaking, slamming each window shut and barring the shutters. Only when each possible entry into her house was firmly closed did she slow down. She slumped to the floor, fighting with herself for every breath of air. She felt ready to asphyxiate. Stumbling through to her kitchen, she found her cordial and took a long swallow, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped the bottle.

   It took her an hour to calm down, an hour that she spent curled up on her kitchen floor with Sigwide in her arms. The orting was alarmed, too; her latent summoner senses caught his fear, but she was too thoroughly disturbed herself to do more than hold him close and wait until they both felt soothed. At length her breathing eased and she felt stable enough to brew tea without shattering her teapot and cups. She rose to her feet a little shakily, tucking Sigwide into the carry sling she always wore around her waist. He would be happier kept close.