Tumblers of Rolan by Michael B Fletcher

Author:Michael B Fletcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: IFWG Publishing International
Published: 2023-10-10T06:48:30+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lan half stood as Alethea came into his room. “Welcome. Share my freshly brewed tea.”

“You must have been expecting me,” she said, sitting down as Lan poured the sweet-scented liquid from a pot into a spare cup.

“It is near time, Alethea.” Lan took a sip of his drink and looked through the steam at her. “I think all who are involved in the ceremony of renewal are prepared.”

“Agreed, Lan. I have also included Anyar for the ceremony, despite her age.”

Lan nodded as he gazed through the thin slit of his window overlooking a field of tumbled grey boulders.

“And the cave of cleansing; are you quite sure you are ready for your role there?”

“I am, but will be reliant on you when we do this with Targas. As much as I’m afraid to admit it, I am feeling my age.” Lan’s face tightened as he took her hand in his. “But I must not be sentimental. There is work to be done, and we cannot shirk our responsibilities.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Targas,” said Sadir, leaning against him as they watched the interplay of scents through the valley against the hazy back­drop of the Long Ranges mountains extending southwards.

Targas idly played with a section of scent rising from a group of trees down the slope. Stronger and thicker colours revealed the presence of life: he recognised numerous small lizards, and even a faint trace of the large predator, the k’dorian lizard. He dragged a spiral of scent closer, spreading it, feeling its bonds stretch. He smiled as he saw Sadir influencing what he was doing, tying additional scents into his work, making the blanket of scent stretch and thicken until it cast a shadow across the rocky ground. He pushed it away further, down the slope, reducing his ability to retain control. Sadir followed, showing just how far her ability had developed. By the time sweat was beading on Targas’s forehead, her influence on the scent blanket faltered and she slipped away.

“You’re becoming a scent master in your own right, Sadir,” said Targas. “But I suppose that’s to be expected with your background; and with your experience in the Nebleth cave.” He felt Sadir stiffen, and mentally kicked himself.

“We’ve never really spoken about where you came from,” he pointed out, staring unseeingly into the distance.

“Never really seemed important, love.” Sadir leant into him again. “I never knew my mother, my natural mother, but understand she had some real scent talent, and the Resistance were looking to her for help. Then she died when I was a young child, well before your time though.”

“Might help to explain where Anyar gets some of her talent,” Targas mused.

They sat quietly for a few moments looking down the valley.

“Um, I’m not looking forward to this night. Alethea and Lan want to work with me first though.” He squeezed her hand. “You’ll be able to come too?’

“Yes, I will. Anything to try and get you back to normal.” She rubbed a thumb across the back of his hand and pushed into him.

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