Llandry was in draykon-shape and on the wing, Pensould flying at her side. The towering caps of Waeverleyne's glissenwol dwellings had just appeared on the horizon when the first screams reached her ears.
Draykon cries, unmistakeably.
We're too late!
She beat her tired wings harder, forcing herself to triple her speed.
Peace, Minchu, it may not be as you fear.
She ignored Pensould's counsel, all her thoughts bent on her mother and father. She cursed herself, cursed Limbane and Pensould, cursed everything. Limbane had sworn that time as she knew it was not passing while she had been cooped up in the Library, but how could that be true? If so then Isand had reached Waeverleyne with impossible speed.
Remembering the other draykon's boundless anger, though, perhaps it was not impossible. She was driven by the sort of fury Llandry had never known. She should have anticipated that, spared no effort herself to reach her mother before Isand had time to enact her plan of revenge.
As she arrived in the skies over Waeverleyne with Pensould hard behind her, all other thoughts faded. She saw Isand, flanked by two draykons Llandry had never seen before. She took in the crowds of panicking Glinnish citizens filling the ground and the air, some fighting to escape the city and others, stupidly, watching the conflict.
Then she saw the lone human figure that hovered in the air before Isand's massive jaws. Slender and frail she looked in contrast, her black hair blown loose by the wind, her dark blue wings beating fast to hold her aloft.
Llandry would know her mother anywhere.
Ynara was holding a length of rippling white fabric. The sight sent her heart plummeting; she could have told her mother that parley would not work on Isand.
Then yours is a double betrayal and you shall be among the first to fall.
The words were Isand's, spoken at a volume to cause Llandry a small whimper of pain. She screamed a warning, screamed again as Isand struck her mother to earth. Watching Ynara plummet to the ground, Llandry shrieked with uncontrollable fury.
Ah, now she understood how Isand felt.
Pensould's voice joined hers in a shattering roar. He flew to the attack, but Llandry angled down, down to the ground. She was human again in seconds, changing so fast that she couldn't walk properly on her human legs. She staggered to her mother's side and dropped down beside her.
'Mamma! Ma, speak to me.'
No use; Ynara lay unconscious, blood covering the lower part of her face and bruises everywhere on her honey-coloured skin. She didn't wake.
Sigwide lay in the moss where he'd fallen from Llandry's back. She felt a twinge of pain from him as he staggered onto his feet.
Ouch, he grumbled.
She scooped him up, hugging him close as several human figures ran towards her. One woman dropped to her knees on Ynara's other side, ripping open some kind of bag.
'I'm from the infirmary,' she gasped, breathless from the run. 'I'll take care of her. I need you to move away, miss.'
Llandry felt like clinging to her mother, all her adult rationality wiped away in the wake of pure fear and anxiety. She forced it down, nodding.
She couldn't help to heal her mother, but she could avenge her injury. Finding the ball of anger still coiled inside her, she cultivated it into a blaze of fury.
Stay with Ma, she said to Sigwide, placing him near Ynara's feet. She didn't wait for his agreement. Backing away, she flashed back into her draykon shape, ignoring the gasps of shock and fear from the assembled crowds. In seconds she was back in the air, arrowing towards Isand.
Pensould was in the midst of the three draykons, hard pressed but holding his own. Llandry felt another stab of guilt; in her anxiety for her mother she'd left Pensould to fend for himself against three draykons.
Well, now she would even the odds.
Tensing herself for impact, she hurled herself into the fray, letting her body collide with Isand's at maximum speed. The red draykon bellowed and dropped, but she wasn't incapacitated for long; her head came up, her jaws fastening on Llandry's hide. Her teeth pierced the skin and Llandry shrieked with pain.
Minchu, get out of the fight!
What a time for Pensould to get protective. Don't be absurd, she replied. Take care of the other two. Isand is mine.
She turned on the wine-hued draykon, absolutely intent on killing her for the attack on her mother. She bit and clawed ferociously, heedless of her own safety, uncaring as long as she took Isand down with her. Claws raked fire across her side; she bellowed and turned, darting in and around Isand's guard to snap at her neck. Her smaller size gave her the advantage of speed and agility; her teeth connected, sinking deeply into the red beast's flesh. She ripped her jaws free, revelling in the other draykon's bellow of pain and the flow of fresh blood as she circled away and back.
Why fight us? Isand's speech was laced with pain, a fact which gave Llandry considerable satisfaction. We are the same.
We are not the same! Llandry screamed the words at her. These are MY people!
Your people? The question was heavy with confusion. That cannot be.
But it is so. And the woman you may have killed is my mother. For that, I WILL kill you.
Your mother? Such a thing is not possible. She is human; you are draykoni. Isand's jaws snapped at Llandry's flanks again, but half-heartedly. I do not wish to fight fellows. Cease your defence of these worthless creatures.
Llandry attacked again, raking her claws across Isand's red hide. I will not!
Isand shook her great head and roared. Then she began to retreat, her blood streaming away to the ground.
We retreat! she bellowed. The other two draykoni paused in their harassment of Pensould; Llandry felt their confusion and resistance to Isand's order. But they obeyed it.
As they fell into line behind Isand, Llandry launched herself in pursuit.
MINCHU! The name was roared so loudly that Llandry felt her brain might explode. Cease your pursuit! NOW!
Llandry flew on.
Pensould's massive weight slammed into her from above, knocking her off balance. He kept on her, herding her to the ground, using his superior size to cut off her escape. Fighting him every inch of the way, she was nonetheless forced to earth.
Pensould snapped his heavy jaws near her face, growling. You will not DARE to kill yourself in pursuit of revenge! That is for the likes of Isand. Your family needs you alive. I need you alive. Stop it now!
Llandry drooped, her rage dissipating under the weight of Pensould's disapproval. He was right, of course. She had lost her temper, something she never remembered doing before.
And once you are calm, Pensould said more gently, there may be something we can do for your mother. His nose nudged gently at her flank; she was surprised to feel a flash of pain there. And these must be tended to also.
For the first time she noticed that his own hide was striped with wounds and dotted with abrasions.
I'm sorry, Pensould. I got carried away.
She felt him sigh, a whistling of breath through tired lungs. Well. Let us see what's become of your parent.
Parent, singular. She realised that she hadn't seen her father. He ought to have been by her mother's side; he would have been, if he were here.
Where, then, was Papa?
When Llandry took her human shape again, she was alarmed to find bloody wounds decorating her arms and torso and bruises shading her skin. It hurt to breathe, and one of her legs felt horribly weak. Pensould was in little better shape. He wrapped her in a brief hug, soothing her fears with a rush of affection.
I would tend to these first, but I fear we may need all of our energy for your mother.
She nodded and pulled away from him. They were in the infirmary, waiting to be taken to Ynara. At first the medics had refused them admittance: Ynara's condition was too severe for visitors, they said. They had spoken to Llandry stiffly, keeping their distance from her.
With a start, she realised they were afraid of her.
This was a curious reversal. All her life it was she who had been afraid of other people, cursedly, irrationally afraid. To find herself in the stronger position gave her a brief feeling of power.
She had used that rush of confidence to press her point. The nurses, their fear of her weakening their resolve, had given in.
'Please come with me, Miss Sanfaer.' A medic appeared in the far doorway, clad in coveralls and with her hair tightly bound back. She said nothing further as the two of them followed her upstairs and through the halls to a private room.
Ynara lay in a narrow bed, white-faced and unmoving. Her chest still rose and fell, but her breathing was shallow and irregular. Llandry couldn't see any obvious wounds on her, nothing but bruises and cuts.
'The injuries are internal,' said one of the attendant medics. Three of them were in the room, monitoring Ynara's condition and keeping her comfortable. 'She is bleeding somewhere inside, but I can't tell where from. If the bleeding doesn't stop soon, there will be nothing to be done for her.'
Llandry's heart twisted and her breath stopped. Her strong, confident, untouchable mother was dying. And she was dying because of something Llandry and Pensould had done. They had woken Isand. They had gone ahead with the plan in ignorance, knowing nothing of the forces they would unleash. It should never have been undertaken.
Pensould?
He nodded and moved to the other side of Ynara's bed, standing opposite to Llandry.
We will do our best, though I can promise you nothing.
It would have to do. Llandry took a shaky breath and nodded.
Tell me what to do.
***
Limbane's plan held one or two flaws, Andraly thought as she watched the two draykons fly in to join the conflict. In his usual hazy way, Limbane had dropped the two of them on the borders of Glinnery, either forgetting to ascertain where Llandry's mother lived or simply not caring.
He had also forgotten to tell Andraly when they departed. She and her fellow Lokant Jace had been left to catch up. Of course, the two draykons had been long gone by the time they had emerged from the Library, and so she and Jace had simply gone ahead to Waeverleyne to await the arrival of Llandry and Pensould.
Their advantage in timing gave them ample opportunity to observe the arrival of the other three draykoni.
'I'd say we're too late,' Jace muttered as the red draykon laid into a unit of guards.
'Warning unnecessary,' Andraly agreed. She watched dispassionately as a foolhardy Glinnish woman attempted parley.
'That's doomed to failure.'
'Stupidest thing I've seen in a long time,' Jace nodded.
The attempt at parley ended as she had foreseen. The Glinnish woman's frail form toppled to earth, and the red draykon turned its attention back to the population of Waeverleyne.
That was when Llandry and Pensould arrived.
'Oh, beautiful timing,' Jace said with approval.
'Couldn't have been better.' Though she wasn't sure what these two could do against three draykoni, all of them bigger than Llandry.
In the end, she was pleasantly surprised.
'What a demon,' said Jace. He actually sounded slightly awed.
Having watched the small grey draykon drive the enraged red beast away, Andraly had to agree. The girl was so feeble in person, a cringing, shy thing without spirit of any kind. Apparently she had hidden depths.
The attacking draykoni flew away and the show was over. Andraly stretched her limbs and rolled her shoulders, stiff from staring into the sky for so long.
'I'd better tell Limbane,' she said.
'Right.'
And back to the Library she went.