Alchymist (13 page)

'What
happened?' panted Fyn-Mah.

'We
found their flesh-forming cages, at least five rooms of them,' said Irisis.
'All the creatures in the first three rooms were dead or dying. In the fourth
we came upon a lyrinx, destroying the remainder. It attacked; nearly killed us
too, and then another two appeared. Flangers managed to kill the first lyrinx
and we got out the door. They didn't come after us — weren't interested.
They're finishing off the rest of the flesh-formed.'

'They
don't want us to get a live one' said Fyn-Mah. 'All the more urgent that we
do.'

'What
are you doing here?' Irisis said to Muss, who reeked of tar smoke.

'Scrutators'
business.' He looked frustrated. It was the first time she'd seen him show
emotion.

'So
are we. We need a hand.'

'In
the struggle, some of the cages were broken open,' Irisis said to Fyn-Mah, and
a few animals escaped. If we were to attack suddenly, we might overcome the
lyrinx and catch one of the little beasts.'

'By
the time we break down the door there'll be no taking them by surprise.'

'Especially
since they've barricaded it.' said Flangers.

'But.
. .' Fyn-Mah rubbed her fingers together, reflecting for a moment. 'If I were
to blast the door off its hinges, using the Art ... All right! I'll try it.
Stand back.1

'The
node is dead,' Irisis reminded her.

'Artefacts
that store power will still work, though I'd have preferred not to waste one
here. Put your hands over your ears.'

She
pressed a bead into her right ear, another into the left. Taking something
small and shiny from a buttoned pocket, Fyn-Mah rubbed it between her hands as
if to warm it, closed her fingers loosely around it and held her hand high. The
upraised arm shook, her face went red, and a blade of raw sound sheared out
between her fingers. The air shimmered, marking its passage. The door burst
into splinters. Fyn-Mah was tossed the other way, to land on her back.

The
sound, even through Irisis's hands, was a nagging, rasping screech. She
crouched down, put her head between her knees and pressed her hands over her
ears. Beside her, Flangers grunted as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

Beyond
the doorway, the cages had been piled against the far wall by the force of the
blast. One lyrinx lay on the now empty floor, kicking feebly. A shard of wood
the size of a pick handle had gone through its thigh, severing the artery, and
it was bleeding to death. The one Irisis had spoken to had come to rest against
the far wall, its neck broken.

Several
flesh-formed creatures lay on the floor, dead. 'Go through all the cages,' said
Fyn-Mah, stooped and shaking with aftersickness. 'If there's any beast left
alive, we must have it.

Are
you all right?' said Flangers.

'Go
on. I'll be with you in a minute.'

They
started on the grim task, keeping a careful watch on the wounded lyrinx. It
tried to get up, its claws scraping at the soft sandstone underfoot, but was
too weak. Finally it slumped on its side, unmoving, its yellow-brown eyes
watching them.

It
did not take long to search the cages, but they found nothing alive. Fyn-Mah
appeared, shaking her head. 'They must have killed them all' She knelt beside
the dying creature; not too close. 'Are they all dead, lyrinx?'

'Yesss
. . .' It was just a puff of breath. 'All dead.' Its head thumped against the
floor.

'Some
escaped their cages,' said Irisis. 'I don't think they could have got out of
the room.'

The
smoky smell had grown stronger, suggesting that the fire was moving this way.
'Search the room,' ordered Fyn-Mah. 'Quickly. Every minute we spend here
lessens our chance of getting out of Snizort.'

'Here's
something,' said the young soldier, on his knees beside a cupboard that had
fallen on several others, leaving spaces between. 'A trail of blood goes in
here.'

They
dragged the cupboards out of the way. Underneath lay a flesh-formed creature,
as dead as the others. Fyn-Mah stood frowning at it, took a notebook from her
pocket and began to write swiftly.

She
went around the room, describing and sketching the dead creatures while the
search was completed. Looking bitterly disappointed, she disappeared into the
adjoining room. The soldiers followed, leaving just Irisis and Flangers.

'Where's
Muss?' said Irisis.

'He
was right behind you —’ Flangers scratched his head in bemusement. 'I wonder
what he's up to?'

'It
doesn't do to inquire into scrutators' affairs,' said Irisis. 'We'd better go.'

Flangers
rubbed his wounded arm, staring at the floor. 'Take a look at this, Crafter.'
He squatted down, further splitting his pants, and emitted the faintest of
groans.

'What
is it?'

His
finger traced a bloody squiggle across the floor. This was made by something
trying to hide. Give me a hand.'

They
pulled the broken cupboards out ot the way, inspecting each carefully, though
it was not until the very last that they found anything. It was a furred
creature about the size of Flangers's hand, the oddest little thing Irisis had
ever seen. The fur was wet, bloody in patches and sticky in others. It
scratched at Flangers as he picked it up, though its soft claws did not break
the skin.

'It's
newborn, he said wonderingly. 'That must have been the mother and, as she lay
dying, she gave birth.'

'Better
than nothing, I suppose.' Irisis looked for something to keep it in. 'I'll tell
Fyn-Mah. Flangers, what are you doing?'

He
was crouched beside the dead mother, holding the little one to a teat. 'It'll
need feeding, and there's nothing better than mother's milk.'

The
man never ceased to surprise her. Leaving him to his domestic duties, she went
into the next room. 'Fyn-Mah! we've found one — an infant.'

The
perquisitor came running. 'Where?'

'Flangers
is feeding it.' Irisis found a small, undamaged cage which she padded with
handfuls of straw.

Fyn-Mah
was standing over Flangers. 'Come on, soldier!'

'One
feed will make a big difference to its chances,' said Flangers.

'The
time could make a big difference to our chances. Oh, all right, but only a few
minutes. Where's Muss?'

'He
just disappeared.'

Fyn-Mah
did not look surprised. 'He's got other business to attend to.' With an anxious
glance at the door, she hurried back to the adjoining room to resume her
search.

Irisis
sat the cage next to the dead mother. It made her uncomfortable to see Flangers
feeding the creature, but it fascinated her too. What an unusual man he was.
'Did you grow up on a farm?'

No, I
lived all my life in Thurkad, until I signed up.'

'Then
how did you know . . .?' I'm just interested in things. Do you know —’

Fyn-Mah
came flying through the door, followed by the soldiers. 'Come on!' She hurtled
out.

Flangers
slipped the little creature into his pocket. Irisis took the cage. 'What's the
matter?'

Fyn-Mah
was running on tiptoes. 'There are more lyrinx on the way.'

'How
do you know?' Irisis panted. 'Where are they?'

'Shut
up and run!'

She
led the way, followed by Irisis and Flangers, then the soldiers. The young
captain looked very uncomfortable to be bringing up the rear. They raced down
the corridor, sticky tar rasping underfoot, turned the corner and saw half a
dozen lyrinx ahead. Fyn-Mah spun on one slender foot and darted to her right,
into a smaller, darker tunnel.

'I'm
not sure this is the right way,' said Irisis.

Fyn-Mah
glanced at the swinging cage as Irisis pounded beside her. 'Where is it?'

'Flangers
has it in his pocket.' He was in the middle of the line of soldiers.

'Flangers!
Up with me. Myrum, go back with Irisis.'

Flangers
made his way up. Myrum, a stumpy chunk of scarred muscle, moved back. Irisis
studied him as he joined her. Long black hair curtained a high, bald dome. The
old soldier was missing one ear, most of his teeth and the tip of his nose, yet
she had not seen him without a smile.

'What're
you so happy about?' she said.

'Being
alive,' Myrum said with zest.

'Enjoy
it while it lasts.'

I do
— every minute.'

'Lead
the way, Flangers,' said Fyn-Mah. 'And take good care of the little beast.'

He
flashed her a grin, sketching a salute with his left hand, and moved ahead.
Fyn-Mah came next and Irisis just behind, with a short gap to Myrum, the other
four soldiers and the captain at the rear.

Fyn-Mah
s eyes were fixed on Flangers's scored buttocks, which were round, tight and
moved beautifully as he ran. Irisis found her own eyes drawn to the sight, and
once there, it was hard to look anywhere else. She could not help wondering
what it would be like to lie with him- She'd not slept with a soldier before.
Her lovers had been men from the manufactory. She wondered if Fyn-Mah was drawn
to him. Impossible to tell; the perquisitor never gave anything away.

Fyn-Mah
was fleet, considering her small stature. Irisis's long legs could barely keep
up with her. The soldiers were also labouring, but they wore chest armour and
carried heavy packs. Behind them a sword clanged on something hard. A man cried
out, then there was a thud, barely audible over the sound of their pounding
feet.

One
down, Irisis thought. Probably the captain who'd insisted on his orders in
writing — fat lot of good it had done him. Why was this mission so important?
Was this little creature what Fyn-Mah had hoped to find, or had she been
looking for something else when she went off the other way? It was unlikely
Irisis would ever find out. All quisitors, from lowly probers to exalted
scrutators, were close-mouthed, but Perquisitor Fyn-Mah made an art form of it.
And she had good reason not to trust Irisis.

Irisis
caught a whiff of smoke — the throat-gripping reek of burning tar. When the
node-drainer was destroyed, the incandescent blast would have liquefied rock.

A
scream and there was one less pair of pounding boots behind her. Attacking from
the rear, out of the dark, suited the lyrinx perfectly. There was nothing to be
done about it. They had no spears to throw, no crossbows to fire, and they
dared not stop to make a stand. The tunnel was too narrow. All they could do
was run.

The
third man fell without a sound, the sudden lack of footsteps all they knew of
his passing. 'That's three we've lost,' Irisis gasped. 'Slow down.'

A
grunted cry. Four!

Fyn-Mah
threw a glance over her shoulder. Her iron control was slipping; Irisis could
see the panic in her eyes. 'We can't afford to.'

'We
can't afford to lose anyone else,' said Irisis.

Fyn-Mah
called out to Flangers, who wore neither pack nor armour and had heen drawing
ahead, despite his injury. 'Slow down, soldier.'

The
two remaining soldiers closed the gap. Myrum was still grinning, though it was
more forced. Young Ivar's eyes were ablaze with terror.

Myrum
clapped him on the shoulder. 'Do your duty like a man, lad.'

Ivar
nodded as he ran, his head jerking like a puppet. Myrum ushered him ahead,
taking the last place in the line.

But
he's not a man, thought Irisis. He's just a boy. What kind of monsters are we,
that we demand such sacrifices of children? Yet, selfishly, she was glad that
the lad was between her and the enemy. Those few extra moments of life were
precious.

I'm
sorry, Ivar. Myrum is going to be next, and then you. The old fellow will put
up one hell of a struggle, maybe even kill one of the enemy, if he's lucky, but
the next will get him. That's all his life was for. And then, just you, Ivar.
You won't last a minute. Who'll mourn your insignificant life and brutal death?
We won't, because we'll be following you. Everything we've done will have been
for nothing.

'Where
are you going?' panted Irisis. Fyn-Mah had called directions to Flangers
whenever they came to a junction, but apart from that she'd said nothing at
all.

'I
left a finder in the air-floater. I'm tracking it back as best I can.'

Irisis
had never heard of a finder. How could it show Fyn-Mah the way back through
this labyrinth?

'Fyn-Mah!'
she hissed. 'Why don't you blast them with another of those crystals?'

The
perquisitor turned as she ran and Irisis saw torment in her eyes. 'I can't.'

'You
don't have any more crystals?'

A
long pause. I have one,' she said softly. 'I'm saving it for an emergency.

'And
this isn't?' Irisis said in a low voice. You could have saved those soldiers
and you chose not to? You callous bitch!'

The
whole left side of Fyn-Mah's race quivered. 'I have my orders, Crafter. If I
use it now I won't have it later, and believe me, before we get out of here
we're going to need it.'