The Draykon Series (1-3)

Orlind: Chapter Six

Walking back into her grandfather's house with Eva by her side, Llandry ran straight into a stranger.

'Hello,' said the boy in surprise, his eyes wandering from Llandry to Eva to Tren, and back to Llandry again. He was around her own age, she judged, with a mop of unruly blond hair and a friendly smile. He looked at her a bit more closely, and his eyes widened, the smile disappearing. 'Are you Llandry Sanfaer?'

Llandry nodded, uncomfortable. What was this strange young man doing in her grandfather's house? She would never have expected to see his jealously-guarded domain so busy.

Eva held out her hand. 'I'm guessing,' she said in her low, cultured voice. 'I think you must be Mr Orillin Vanse, is that correct?'

Shaking her hand, the boy looked properly at Eva for the first time, and his expression quickly turned awed. Llandry sighed inwardly. Nobody ever looked at her that way.

'I'm Orillin,' he managed to say. '"Mr" is taking it a bit far, though!'

Eva smiled at him. 'I know someone who will be very glad to see you. I'm Eva.'

It took a few moments for the name "Orillin" to call much to Llandry's mind save a vague sense of familiarity. Racking her brains, she remembered at last: Limbane had spoken of this boy. He was another hereditary draykon, sought most urgently by Krays - though Limbane hadn't told her why, if he even knew himself. Llandry looked at him with new interest, hope flickering in her heart. Orillin was like her: a summoner, a winged citizen of Glinnery, a human-draykon; he was even of a similar age. Perhaps they could help each other. Perhaps... they could even be friends?

She'd been staring, but Orillin didn't seem to notice. He allowed Eva to usher him back inside Rheas's house, already hero-worshipping Tren and crushing on Eva. Llandry followed in silence.

Her grandfather's face darkened with anger, or something like it, when he saw the crowd of people filling up his house.

'That's it,' he snapped. 'Enough. No more. This is my house, not a town hall.'

Llandry watched enviously as Eva merely turned a cool look on him. 'Mr Irfan,' she said. 'I'd like to talk with you.'

Rheas looked her over, his attention lingering on the glasses she still wore. 'Darklanders?' He conspicuously failed to stand; nor did he make even the smallest gesture of greeting or welcome.

'Lady Evastany Glostrum,' Eva said coldly. 'Of Glour.' She didn't extend her hand.

'And what are you doing in my house?' said Rheas, his tone no friendlier than hers.

'Bringing your granddaughter to visit her mother,' Eva replied. 'After that, I imagine I'll be taking all your visitors away again and leaving you in peace. But you'll help me with something first.'

Rheas's thick grey eyebrows travelled upwards, his blue eyes growing colder. 'Oh?'

'You're a summoner,' she said, taking a step closer to the rocking-chair he sat in. 'I feel that in you. Do you know what's happening out there?'

Rheas glared at her, but consented to nod. Llandry thought back to her frantic flight across Iskyr not long ago, terrified that some harm had befallen Eva and Tren and that she'd be too late to help them. That fear had been strong, but a surge of panic and confusion had overtaken her senses, coming not from her own mind and body but from outside of herself. She'd known immediately what it meant.

'How is it that your domain remains untouched by it?' Eva persevered.

Rheas's expression turned smug. 'I've learned a few things in my time up here.'