'Lyanna, Lyanna,' she whispered, the lump in her throat threatening to break her voice, the tears falling down her face. She sniffed. 'Oh my darling, how good it is to be with you again. Tell me everything. Have you missed Mummy? I've missed you, my sweet. What have you been doing? Do you remember very much? Mmm?'
She pulled away to look at Lyanna and saw a quizzical look on her face.
'What is it darling?' she said, tracing a finger down the outline of her jaw. 'What's wrong?'
Lyanna frowned. 'You know what I've been doing. I've been in the dark place. The ladies kept me there and that's why you went. Because you thought I wouldn't know. But I did and I made a light for you to help you come back. Why did you go?' Her voice began to tremble.
Erienne resisted the urge to hug her again. 'Oh, sweet, you know why I went. You waved me from the beach, didn't you? Don't you remember? I went to get some help for us because the Al-Drechar were getting so tired. I went to get Daddy.'
Lyanna considered for a moment and nodded. 'Yes, but I didn't want to be in the dark place and the old ladies made me stay until I made them let me wake up.'
Erienne's heart missed a beat. A suddenly shaky hand swept hair away from Lyanna's forehead. 'What do you mean?' she asked.
'I hurt Ana.' Lyanna's chin was wobbling. T don't know what happened. Please don't be angry Mummy, I didn't mean it. I was scared.' She started to cry and Erienne held her close, rocking her and shushing gently into her ear.
'Of course I'm not angry.' Erienne looked around her, the wreckage so much easier to understand. She feared for the state of Aviana's mind, if indeed the mage was still alive. But sorry as she was for Aviana, that wasn't the real problem. If Lyanna was telling
the truth, it presumably meant that her Night wasn't actually over. That her acceptance and control of the mana would not be complete. And that she could relapse any time, unshielded, wreaking untold damage to herself and Balaia.
She steeled herself and tried to keep her voice light and friendly. She couldn't afford Lyanna to see how scared she was.
'And how do you feel, darling?' she asked.
Lyanna smiled a little smile. 'All right. My head hurts and I think I made the light a bit bigger than I should. The wind is still in there and the ladies said they'd help me stop it and they didn't.'
Erienne pushed herself to her feet and held out a hand which Lyanna took.
'Shall we go and see where the Al-Drechar are?'
'I don't think they like me,' said Lyanna. 'They don't talk to me anymore.'
'Oh I'm sure that's not true,' admonished Erienne gently. 'Come on, I'll show you they're still your friends.'
'Then can we go and watch for Daddy?' asked Lyanna. 'I've got a special place where I stand to look. I looked for you every day.'
'Thank you, darling,' said Erienne. 'That helped me come back sooner.'
Reluctandy, Lyanna allowed herself to be led back into the house. Erienne walked over the soaking timbers, passed shattered, flapping windows, smashed vases, broken pictures and torn tapestries and drapes, trying not to react. Lyanna didn't seem to notice any of it and chattered away about her friends in the orchard and the nice soup she had for lunch.
She slowed as they approached the Al-Drechar's rooms. Already anxious that the only sound in the house was the wind whisding through the empty frames and holes in the roof, Erienne feared the worst when she pulled open the doors to dieir corridor. No one stood guard, no one was waiting. She didn't even need to look in dieir rooms to know they were empty.
Erienne picked up Lyanna and hurried along to the ballroom, hoping against hope that they were all seated around the dining room table, smoking the pipe. Lyanna looked back over her shoulder as she ran. She didn't resist being carried but shifted uncomfortably as Erienne pulled open the doors to the ballroom and stood
staring at the great chandeliers lying like ancient, whitened animal skeletons on the cracked floor.
'Who's that man, Mummy?'
Erienne spun around, Lyanna turning in her arms so as not to lose sight.
'Ilkar, thank the Gods. Lyanna, this is one of Mummy and Daddy's friends. He's going to help us. Are you going to say hello?'
Lyanna shook her head and turned it half away.
'Never mind,' said Ilkar as he jogged up. 'Gods falling, Erienne, but this place is a mess. What the hell happened?'
Erienne nodded her head at her daughter. 'Guess,' she said. 'Look, I can't find anyone. There should be Guild elves all over the place, there are four Al-Drechar as well and the place feels like a morgue. Come with me a moment, will you? I've got the creeps.'
Ilkar smiled. 'Which way?'
In answer, Erienne walked on through the ballroom to the dining room, their footsteps echoing wetly around the open space. There was a hole in the roof the size of a cart and the decorative plaster had fallen down in chunks to scatter and blow to the sides of the room. She barely noticed, trying not to break into a run as she neared her last hope.
She grasped the handle with her free hand and pushed the door inwards.
'Oh no,' she said, stumbling to a stop and putting a hand to her nose and mouth. In her arms, Lyanna squirmed and made a revolted noise.
Ilkar came to her shoulder and Erienne could hear him fighting not to gag.
'Erienne, take Lyanna away. I'll see what I can do in here.' His strong arms turned her to face him. 'Look, Denser is only an hour or two away. We need you to try and persuade Lyanna to take the beacon down. The Dordovans aren't that far away and that thing will bring them in like moths to a lantern.'
Erienne nodded, swallowing back the sobs that threatened to overcome her.
'Please don't let them all be dead,' she said. 'Please.'
'I'll do everything I can,' said Ilkar softly. 'Now go. Get outside and get some fresh air.'
Erienne ran back through the ballroom, desperation welling up inside her.
Ilkar looked into the dining room and could see what had driven them to come here. It was dry. Probably the only room in the house that was. There was a fireplace opposite which still put out residual heat and the windows had been battened shut, shutters over fractured glass.
The dining room table had been pushed most of the way to the left and in the centre of the room, four beds, all occupied; at least one of which had to contain a corpse. He walked into the room, the stench almost overpowering. His eyes watered and he gagged suddenly.
He had to get some air through. Hurrying to a door to his right, he pushed it open and found another bedroom, its single small window torn from its frame. He took in a huge deep breath, wedged the door open with a sofa and walked quickly over to another door which swung on creaky hinges, letting him into some kitchens. He was halfway back with a chair to wedge open the swing door when he stopped, straightening and frowning.
He put down the wooden kitchen chair and walked back to the ovens. They were hot, flames flickering inside the grills. There was no food ready for preparation and no water ready to place on the hot plates but unless he was mistaken the ovens had been fired up recently, the flames were bright, and the grates looked full.
'Hello?' he called, walking across the kitchen towards a pair of doors opposite the entrance to the dining room. 'Hello?'
He drew his sword and put a hand on the leftmost door, pushing it open. A cold store. Empty of life. He let the door swing back and paced right, turning the handle of the other door which swung in. He took half a pace back.