Circles of Stone. Ian Johnstone

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      There were a few disappointed grumbles from the crowd, but soon enough everyone began to disperse, reluctantly and noisily, amid much chatter about the Windrush and its occupants, about the things Dropka had mentioned – the whispers in the leaves and the chatter among the birds – but most of all, about Sylas’s strange declaration.

      “Why did you have to mention Glimmers?” murmured Simia in his ear, jabbing him in the side. “Now everyone’s completely freaked out!”

      Sylas sucked a breath through his teeth and shrugged. “I don’t know. It just came out!”

      Filimaya led them up the grassy bank and into the cool of the forest. Many of the ancient trees were gigantic, with trunks as broad as castle towers and waist-high roots that rumpled the forest floor into a baffling, mossy maze. They crossed dazzling, sun-speckled glades and lively streams that bubbled between stones, singing watery melodies. They waded through seas of delicate ferns, between vast outcroppings of thickly scented bracken, over rich carpets of leaves and nodding flowers. Sylas was struck at once by how vital everything seemed, how full of life, even though the world outside the valley had fallen under the cloak of winter. Yet there was no sign of any of the people who had met them on the banks of the lake. It was as though they had simply disappeared.

      Filimaya moved with all the grace and ease that Sylas remembered from his time with her in the Water Gardens; in fact she seemed even more vigorous, even more radiant, as though this magical place had returned to her some of her lost youth.

      As they walked, they told Filimaya of their adventures; of their meeting with Espen and their long journey together across the Barrens, ending with Espen’s revelations about the Glimmer Myth. Filimaya nodded as though entirely familiar with the Myth, just as Espen had predicted. They told of Espen’s seeming betrayal at the Circle of Salsimaine and Bayleon’s capture, of their escape to the city and their discovery of Paiscion and the Windrush.

      At the first mention of Paiscion, Filimaya turned.

      “Was he well?” she asked, anxiously.

      Sylas nodded.

      “And where is he now? Did he not travel with you?”

      “You’re jumping ahead!” scolded Simia. “You need to hear the rest first – you’ll miss the best bit!”

      Filimaya sighed. “I don’t know why, Simsi, but I’ve missed you.” She squeezed her arm. “Go on, then, tell me your own way.”

      Sylas and Simia took it in turns to finish the story, telling of Paiscion’s astonishing discovery in the note from Mr Zhi, then Sylas’s encounter with Naeo in the Glimmer Glass and Simia’s decoding of the message “So at last we may be one” into Sylas and Naeo’s names. Simia spent some time on this part of the story and rather exaggerated its importance, but even then Filimaya did not rush her.

      As they began to tell of Naeo’s rescue from the Dirgheon, Filimaya stopped in wonderment.

      “You broke into the Dirgheon?” she blurted.

      Sylas nodded. “It was the only way. I had to get to Naeo.”

      He described Paiscion’s summoning of the storm, the encounter with Espen, the battle with Scarpia and their final escape, flying high over Thoth’s city, borne aloft by Sylas’s strange birds made from the ruined sails and rigging of the Windrush.

      “We really flew, Filimaya!” said Simia. “As high as the clouds – higher even!”

      “It sounds magical, Simsi,” smiled Filimaya. She turned to Sylas. “Was it, Sylas? Was it magic? Or was it the science of your world? Of the Other?” She raised an eyebrow. “I ask because you seem to know quite a lot about both.”

      Sylas thought for a moment. It was still so strange to hear his own world referred to as “the Other” – if anything was other it was this place – this world – with its magic and its creatures and outlandish people.

      “I think it was a bit of both,” he said hesitantly. “Magic and science. The gliders seemed to work, but I don’t think they would have flown like that if Ash hadn’t summoned the winds.”

      “And so already the two worlds are becoming one,” said Filimaya, almost to herself.

      For a moment they walked in silence, each lost in their thoughts.

      Finally Filimaya frowned. “So … you and Naeo are able to be together? You said you held hands. You shared a glider?”

      “Then, yes,” said Sylas. “I mean, it felt weird, and it hurt – here, around the Merisi band –” he held up his wrist to reveal the glistening bracelet – “but it was like, in that moment, we were meant to be together.”

      “And since that moment?”

      “It’s just been … difficult. To be around each other,” said Sylas, shaking his head. “It’s hard to describe why. It’s like I start to feel … like the parts of me – my bones, my insides, even my thoughts … I don’t know …” He trailed off.

      Filimaya looked at him with concern.

      “I keep telling him, I’m not sure they should still be together at all!” said Simia knowingly. She lowered her voice. “And Naeo’s just a bit—”

      “I’m sure Sylas and Naeo will be trying to work all this out themselves in their own good time,” interrupted Filimaya. She put a hand on Sylas’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s this way.”

      She led them through a veil of vines towards a denser part of the forest. As they passed through the long dangling strands, Sylas jabbed Simia in the side.

      “I told you to keep out of it,” he hissed.

      Simia gaped innocently. “I was just being honest,” she protested. “You seemed to think that was a good thing when we got here!”

      Sylas said nothing and pushed on.

      As the vines fell away they gasped. Here the tree trunks were as wide as houses and soared above them to new heights, like the columns of some grand and ancient citadel. Sylas and Simia craned their necks towards the canopy, trying in vain to see the topmost branches.

      “So, tell me,” said Filimaya in a casual tone over her shoulder, “where is Paiscion now?”

      Sylas and Simia exchanged glances, as though neither wanted to reply.

      “We don’t really know,” said Simia hesitantly. “He didn’t come back to the Windrush.”

      “But he said he might not …” added Sylas, quickly. “And he said we shouldn’t worry about him.”

      For a moment, Filimaya turned and gazed at them anxiously, as though hoping they would say more, but when nothing came she breathed in deeply and turned her eyes upwards. She watched the path of a fluttering bird until it was out of sight, but in truth, she seemed to be composing herself.

      Eventually she looked down again. “Well, young Sylas Tate,” she said, her voice sounding a little forced, “every chapter of your adventure is more extraordinary than СКАЧАТЬ