The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Ten

   Eva placed a black pebble on the map spread across Guardian Troste's table.

   'That's where the seventh was found.' She'd traced a pattern across the map in seven black pebbles, marking where each whurthag had been discovered. Commander Iver of the Glinnery delegation had already drawn the new outline of the Night Cloak, marking where it had expanded into Glinnery territory. The expansion was fairly even down much of the Glinnery-Glour border, excepting one area where the line swung sharply into the Daylands, covering an area of at least a hundred feet.

   The seven black pebbles formed a neat semi-circle around it.

   Elder Sanfaer leaned forward and picked up a small blue pebble. Comparing the map on the table with the one in her hand, she carefully placed the blue pebble in the centre of the circle.

   'That is the location of Llandry's cave.'

   Six Glour officials and five Glinnery delegates stared at the map, silent. The implication was too obvious to need naming.

   'Well,' said Guardian Troste, at length. 'I think that raises more questions than it answers.'

   'The University of Waeverleyne is studying the stone. Some theories have been presented, but nothing solid has yet emerged.' The speaker was one of the Glinnery Elders, an elderly man whose hair was almost white. His face was mapped with wrinkles, but his bright blue eyes were sharp, focused.

   'Elder Shuly, perhaps I could exact from you an agreement to notify Glour if your scholars discover anything significant.'

   The white-haired man bowed his head to Guardian Troste. 'Of course.'

   Eva watched all of the Glinnery officials covertly. Four of them bore wings, neatly folded against their backs. Glinnish wings had always fascinated her; they were not feathered like a bird's but more like a combination of a gwaystrel's and a daefly's wings, thin membrane over bone and painted with colour. She had a secret envy of their power of flight.

   The fifth was unwinged, his colouring and accent suggesting Irbellian heritage. Eva had learned that he was Elder Sanfaer's husband, which interested her. He had said nothing throughout the meeting, merely watching with an intense, fixed attention which might be unnerving were it directed at a particular person.

   Troste looked at Professor Mayn, head of Glour's University. He sat silent as usual, tugging thoughtfully at the tip of his long nose.

   'Professor, we need to get the University involved immediately. Whatever you can come up with about this so-called istore should be brought directly to me. Top priority, please.'

   Mayn nodded. 'Am I going to be needed here for the rest of the meeting?'

   'Not urgently. I'll see that you are summoned at once if anything comes up.'

   Mayn stood up, his bald head gleaming beneath the light-globes. 'I'll begin at once, then. Excuse me.' He left quietly, closing the door behind him.

   Lord Angstrun stood up as well. He had withstood the meeting with ill-concealed impatience. Now he towered over the seated officials with the air of a thundercloud about to erupt.

   'For my part, I've a mess to clean up and a criminal to catch. If I may be excused?'

   'Not yet,' said Troste, calmly. 'Sit down a moment, please.'

   Angstrun scowled, but he obeyed.

   'Altering the Night Cloak is a serious offence,' continued Troste. 'Is it yet confirmed who is responsible?'