The Draykon Series (1-3)

Lokant: Chapter Fourteen

Devary watched as the two draykons ascended into the heavens and began to recede, their forms growing smaller and smaller until they vanished. He stood for a moment, feeling curiously lost. The one thing he most wished to do was to protect Llandry; he owed her that, her and her mother, after failing her so badly before. She had almost been taken because of him. She might have been killed.

But that was the one thing he could no longer do. He had to stay far away from her. How then could he help her?

He thought of the question she'd asked him, her eyes revealing the panic she was trying to suppress. Why do they want me?

He felt that he should be able to answer that question. He had not been given any information, but finding information was his job. He was good at it. He had been a successful agent of Draetre's university for more than two decades, and his speciality was uncovering peculiarities in the practice of magics. Sorcery and summoning... and, perhaps, whatever form of magic his employers were using.

The source of it all was the university. He knew it was a small establishment, officially dedicated to the study of magical history. And so they were, but alongside that they studied the more obscure branches of magic, including feats, practices and artifacts that were not understood - in some cases, not even believed in - outside of their faculty. And their methods were not always considered ethical within the academic community.

It was this university that had turned Devary, at a young age, into an agent of discovery. A spy, Llandry had called him, and she wasn't entirely wrong. He had always been good at making people like him, getting them to trust him, encouraging them to confide in him, and this he supposed was why he had been recruited.

He had never yet turned his abilities against the university itself. But something about it was wrong. The university's methods had grown steadily more ruthless, ever since his superiors had changed from the likes of Professor Indren Druaster - a woman who could be harsh and ambitious, but never amoral to his knowledge - to the pale-haired man they had narrowly escaped. If they were now turning the force of the faculty against individuals like Llandry, then his scruples meant nothing.

He would find out why they wanted her. He would find out who they were and how they were able to perform feats that were impossible even for the most powerful sorcerers. And he would find a way to extricate Llandry from whatever scheme they had in mind for her.

And the logical place to start must be the university itself.

Having decided on this, he felt much better. Gathering his focus, he began the task of opening a gate back to the ordinary world. He had no idea where in the Seven he would emerge, but he would find his way to Draetre somehow.

Tren tapped lightly on the door of Mrs Geslin's cramped house. Through the flimsy wood he could hear the squabbling voices of her young daughters and a clattering of metal. He guessed that Mrs Geslin was cooking.

He knocked again, louder. When he still received no response, he tried the door. Finding it unlocked, he ventured inside.

Three young female faces looked up at him in surprise as he entered. He smiled reassuringly.

'It was open,' he explained. 'Hello, Mindra. Larrin, Kaye.'

'Tren!' Mindra came up to him immediately. She was the oldest of the three, almost thirteen, and quite forthright. She took charge of him at once, shutting the door firmly behind him and towing him towards the kitchen.

'Ma's making dinner,' she said. 'You'll stay, of course.'

'Er, if it's all right...'

'Of course it is. Ma always makes enough for you, just in case you turn up.'