The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Nine

   'Hello,' he said. 'Welcome back to the living world. Your mother hoped you'd be up today.'

   Llandry reflexively drew her shawl closer around herself, avoiding his gaze. She went to her father and leaned against his side, pressing her face into his shaggy blond hair. He didn't say anything, which she appreciated; he merely wrapped one muscular arm around her and gave her a squeeze.

   A muffled squeak caught her attention. Sigwide stood beside his empty bowl, his small body quivering with indignation. He squeaked again as she looked at him, and she recognised the sound as his polite, apologetic interruption. She grinned in spite of herself, bending to refill his supplies. The wounds on her back pulled and she bit back a cry, bending at the knees instead. When Llandry straightened, she immediately found herself wrapped in a tight hug, her mother's distinctive scent enveloping her.

   'Llandry, love. How are you feeling?' Ynara lightly investigated her wounds, turning her around to check the damage to her back. Llandry winced slightly, feeling the skin pull against the half-knit wounds.

   'Quite a lot better, Ma. I've a sense I may live after all.'

   She heard a chuckle from behind her. Probably Devary. She turned back into her mother's embrace, hiding her face against her shoulder.

   Her father spoke. 'Llandry, you were right about the border.'

   Llandry looked up quickly. 'Oh?'

   Aysun cleared his throat and nodded. 'The border's moved, all down the south-east side of the forest. Some places only twenty feet or so. Others, more like eighty.'

   'How? Why?'

   'Hard to say,' said Aysun gruffly. 'Elders are working on it.'

   'Also. I don't suppose you heard the news from Glour before you went haring off to that precious cave of yours, hm?' Ynara's tone had taken on that disapproving quality that Llandry so dreaded, but she couldn't blame her mother for being annoyed.

   'What news?' was all she said.

   Ynara tutted. 'I didn't think so. I'm glad, though, or I'd have to have you certified as insane.' She guided Llandry to a chair and gently pressed her into it. 'That beast you saw - black, pale eyes, and so on - has been sighted in Glour, too. Not just sighted. Three people were killed, all of them former customers of yours.' She fixed Llandry with a hard stare. 'All carrying istore around, Llan, and stripped of it after they were dead. The connection is obvious. There's little doubt it all has a lot to do with that cave of yours. It's southeast of the city, isn't it, near the Glour border?'

   Llandry nodded, her throat too dry to speak. Three people dead? Because of her jewellery?

   Aysun grimaced. 'That's it, then. The Night Cloak was moved in order to absorb that cave into Darklands territory. No saying why, just yet, but you must stay well away from it from now on, Llan.'

   'Promise, Llandry, please,' said Ynara.

   'No fear of that,' said Llandry faintly. 'I've no wish to die by death claw.' She felt numb. Her injuries might be severe but she had been lucky indeed to avoid a far worse fate. Probably it was only her wings that had saved her; her chances of outrunning a beast that moved with such horrifying speed were minimal.

   'Does... has anybody identified it?'

   'The word "whurthag" is being thrown around,' said Ynara. 'That's what the papers are saying. Sensational stuff, scare stories, the usual. It might not be true. The bulletins haven't backed it up yet.'