The Draykon Series (1-3)

Orlind: Chapter Twenty-Four

Five.

I reckon they'll need all five to take Pense away. But hold on, I'm coming.

Llandry didn't wait to see if he was right. She began running, her small legs pumping as fast as possible as she pelted through the fallen leaves at a rustling gallop. She was heading away from Waeverleyne, running blindly, but she didn't care: her only thought was to escape.

She met Ori a few minutes later. He'd adopted orting shape; at her current size he seemed impossibly big.

Come on, he told her. I know the way back from here.

Avane? she asked.

Lokants took her back to the Library. They said she'll probably be fine.

Probably? That was an ominous word. Llandry ran on, trying to ignore her growing despair. Two friends down, one of them dead and taken, the other close to it...

When they reached Iver and shifted human again, it was Ori who gave the report. The Commander heard him out in silence, his face grim.

'I'm sorry about Pensould, truly,' he said when Ori had finished speaking, 'But we can't launch a rescue operation just now.'

'What?' Llan said in disbelief. 'But... he was killed carrying out your plan!'

'Same as a great many other people,' Iver said brutally. 'Thanks to the four of you, the constructs are down, but we still have a lot of draykoni and a number of whurthag-mechs to deal with. I can't spare anyone!'

'Think about it tactically,' she said in desperation. 'You've just lost half the drayks on our side. If we get him back, Ori and I can regenerate him and the three of us can-'

'No!' he barked. 'Do you want to tell me how we're going to do that? Storming a camp full of enraged draykoni to rescue one comrade is not an option!' With that, he turned his back on her and stalked away.

Llan covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the tears that drenched her cheeks. She felt weak, weeping like that; worse losses had been sustained in this war. But not for her. The thought of Pensould condemned to the care of those who hated him as a traitor tore painfully at her heart and escalated her fear until she could hardly breathe. They might destroy his body if they chose, so ensuring that he could never be resurrected. With the body taken, all hope of getting him back faded.

She was distantly aware of Ori hovering nearby, awkward and unsure what to do. He gripped her shoulder, the way he might do with a male friend.

'We'll think of something, Llan,' he promised.

'W-what if they destroy him?'

That silenced him. 'Surely they wouldn't destroy one of their own,' he said, sounding anything but confident.

'He sided with the enemy. They don't see him as one of their own.' She was getting herself back under control now, though an occasional deep sob still shook her.

An idea occurred to her. 'What about the draykons we captured? We have five or six bodies, don't we?'

'They destroyed them.'

'W-what?'

'Iver ordered them burned.' At her stricken look he lost his temper a little. 'Of course he did, Llan! While the bodies remained whole they were a liability. It'd only be a matter of time before they were reclaimed and brought back. The war could go on forever at that rate.'

'But that's awful.'

'It's war. All of it is awful.'

Llandry put her hands to her head, suddenly aware of a terrific headache. 'I was thinking... maybe we could have done an exchange, or something...'