Alchymist (14 page)

Irisis
lowered her voice. 'So the soldiers are expendable?'

'I
don't like it, but yes, they are.'

'And
me? Is that what I'm here for too?'

'You
know it isn't. But, since you've asked, I'll sacrifice you, too, if I have to.
What are any of our lives, before the fate of humanity?'

Nine They
ran until they could run no further, when Irisis realised that only Myrum was
behind her. Ivar had fallen back and been killed without their even knowing it.
Irisis brushed a tear from one eye. He had been just a boy doing his duty.

Myrum
was scarlet in the face and labouring under his pack. 'I'd chuck that away, if
I were you,' said Irisis.

'I
can manage it,' he gasped. 'It's needed. We seem to have lost them.'

Iris
doubted that. 'We must have run leagues, Fyn-Mah. Are you sure you're going the
right way?'

The
perquisitor avoided her eye, staring down the three passages ahead.

'In a
straight line,' Irisis went on, 'we'd have gone right across Snizort and out
the other side by now.'

Fyn-Mah
checked the small object in her hand. 'We go right.'

'You're
not leading us out at all!' Irisis said furiously. 'You're taking us further
in.'

The
perquisitor moved into the right-hand tunnel. 'We had to take the long way
round,' she said unconvincingly. 'There's fire in a central core of tunnels
surrounding the Great Seep.'

Irisis
followed, keeping a careful watch over her shoulder. As she passed what seemed
no more than a dark niche in the wall, something slipped out beside them. With
a yelp she leapt out of the way, for it looked like a little wingless lyrinx.
She had her sword out when it said, in Eiryn Muss's voice, 'This way!'

The
disguise was a brilliant one — it might even have fooled a lyrinx, from a
distance. Muss was truly a master. How did he create such wonders from the
small pack on his back?

'I've
found it; he said to Fyn-.Mah. 'The tunnel collapsed and they must've thought
it was buried too deep to recover.' He still had that frustrated look 'What's
still here?' said Irisis. What were they up to now?

Muss
did not answer, but led them past a T-junction down a tunnel littered with
fallen rock. The floor drops sharply, just ahead.'

Several
slabs of the tunnel had slid downwards, like slices off the end of a hollow
loaf. Irisis made it down the half-span onto the first step, and a similar
distance to the second, but the third slab had fallen so far that only a
crescent-shaped hole, the size of a section through the side of a beer barrel,
connected it to the space they stood in. There were smash marks on its upper
lip, presumably where the lyrinx had tried to break in.

Irisis
hesitated. It would be a tight squeeze. 'If we're halfway through and it slips
again, it'll cut us in half.'

'I've
been down there,' said Muss. 'It's as safe as anywhere in Snizort.'

'That's
comforting!'

Flangers
squeezed through head-first, grunting with the effort, his feet waving in the
air. Abruptly he cried out and his legs whipped through. Fyn-Mah pulled back,
snatching out her knife. Irisis drew her sword — not that it would be much use
in such a confined space.

'You
damn fool, Muss!' cried an enraged Flangers, following that with a stream of
oaths Irisis had never heard before. 'Why didn't you tell me the drop was a
span and a half? I nearly broke my neck.'

'I
got down it without any trouble,' Muss said indifferently.

'Must
be a bloody lizard! Pass me the lantern, Fyn-Mah, and come through carefully.
I'll catch you.'

 Being
small, Fyn-Mah wriggled through without difficulty. Irisis followed. It was a
tight fit for her and she felt sure she was going to fell on her head, but
Flangers's upstretched hands caught hers and she slid into his arms.

He
bore her weight without strain and set her on her feet. Taking up the lantern,
he led the way down a series of tunnel slices like thigh-high steps.

'Aren't
you going to give Muss a hand?' she said in his ear.

'He
can bounce down on his pointy head for all I care.'

'You
don't like our prober?'

'There's
something a bit off about him; Flangers said out of the corner of his mouth.

Irisis
looked back but the spy was already standing at the base of the drop, as if
he'd floated down. He brushed past, taking the lantern.

'He's
a.strange one,' she said quietly. 'His work is always flawless, but he hasn't a
friend in the world, unless you count Flydd. He eats alone, even sleeps alone,
if he sleeps at all.'

'Maybe
being the perfect spy is all he needs,' said Flangers. 'It's a solitary
profession.'

'It's
just here!' called Muss. 'Get a move on.'

They
crowded into a small, circular chamber whose roof was a perfect dome of
sandstone. A squat object like an inverted sombrero stood knee-high on a
pedestal in the centre of the room. It had a short brown stalk on which was
mounted a yellow frilled brim. It was not alive — it had been created by the
lyrinx in one of their patterners.

Fyn-Mah
skidded to a stop. 'Myrum, defend the entrance. Muss, check that there's no
other way in. Flangers, see if you can get that.'

'There
isn't any other way in,' said Muss.

'What
is it?' said Flangers.

'It's
called a phynadr,' said Fyn-Mah. 'The enemy make them in all shapes and sizes,
to draw power from the field. We're taking it back so we can see how it works.'

'The
lyrinx tried to break in for it,' said Flangers, 'so it's likely they'll be
waiting when we crawl out.'

'Then
it it'll be time for you to do your duty, soldier/ said the perquisitor.

Flangers
took hold of the object, which slipped through his fingers. 'Can't get a grip
on it,' he muttered.

Irisis
touched it with her fingers. The phynadr was superficially similar to the
torgnadr, or node-drainer, she'd helped Flydd to destroy, though it had been
leathery. This phynadr was soft, compressing under her touch but springing back
into shape when she let it go.

Flangers
put his arms around it and heaved, but his arms slid off. To their right,
Fyn-Mah was sketching shapes in the air. Whatever magic it was, Irisis prayed
that it would work quickly. She threw a glance over her shoulder.

Flangers
whipped out his sword. 'Don't damage it,' yelled Fyn-Mah.

He
slid the point of his sword under the flat base of the phynadr. The edges,
tinged purple, seemed to recoil from the metal, revealing a white underside.
Flangers pushed the sword all the way, levered, and the phynadr popped off,
emitting a musky, molasses-sweet odour.

Irisis
caught it as it toppled. It was rather heavier than it looked. The phynadr bent
in the middle and the base pulled itself down hard, trying to reattach to the
pedestal, but Flangers kept the blade underneath. Yellow jelly oozed from
beneath the cap. Fyn-Mah pushed Irisis out of the way, drew a black bag over
the phynadr and swiftly tied the top. Throwing it over her shoulder, she
staggered under the weight, recovered and hurried back to the collapsed
section.

'I'll
go first,' she said at the vertical wall.

Flangers
boosted her up. 'Keep a sharp lookout.'

'Don't
worry.' She crawled through. 'It's safe.'

'It
would be,' said Irisis. "They want the phynadr more than us, so they'll be
waiting around the corner.'

Flangers
boosted Myrum, then Irisis. Muss gave Flangers a leg-up. 'Need a hand?'
Flangers said.

'I'll
be right; said Muss.

'Come
on!' Fyn-Mah called. 'It's not far now.'

A
lyrinx roared near the T-junction. Myrum shouted a battle cry and ran for it.
His sword clacked against a skin plate, something whistled through the air,
then he was back-pedalling, attempting to defend himself against two lyrinx at
once.

He
cursed, slipping to one knee. Irisis was sure he was done for, but the old
soldier sprang forward, fast and low, his sword sliding neatly between the
belly plates of the leading lyrinx. It sagged to the left, crashing into the
other beast, and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The soldier dispatched
the second with a sword tip to the jugular.

'We
go right,' said Fyn-Mah, leading the way with the bag slung over her shoulder.

'That
was a neat piece of sword work.' Irisis said to Myrum.

'Just
luck,' replied Myrum. 'I was sure I was dead.'

'Dare
say you will be before we get out of here.'

'Dare
say we both will.'

The
tunnel now headed steeply down. It was dark, but the way ahead was illuminated
by a reddish glow coming from Fyn-Mah's fist. The other crystal, presumably.

It
was hard work running down the steep slope. Halfway to the bottom they passed
from stone into solid tar. It was so sticky underfoot that with every step they
were in danger of toppling. Myrum looked exhausted, Fyn-Mah was staggering
under the weight of the bag, and Flangers winced with every step. The scabbed
gouges across his buttocks were bleeding. Muss had disappeared again.

'Should
we wait for the prober?' asked Irisis.

'He
can take care of himself,' said Fyn-Mah, moving the bag onto her other
shoulder.

'Do
you want me to carry that?' Irisis offered.

Fyn-Mah
shook her head.

They
were still heading down steeply and the air was smoky. 'How far now?' said
Irisis, worrying that Flangers would break down. She felt sure Fyn-Mah would
leave him behind.

Fyn-Mah
did not answer, which was worrying. They swung around a corkscrewing left-hand
bend together and the floor, roof and walls disappeared. Irisis threw herself
to the floor on the very brink of a chasm. Flangers landed on top of her.
FynMah held up her light. The details slowly emerged from featureless black.

A
crevasse cut across their path. The solid tar, or rather brittle pitch as it
was here, had recently been torn apart by some great force, leaving a gap of
about eight spans to the other side of the tunnel. The tar wall was a sheer
face of pitch, as smooth and curved as fractured glass, apart from shards that
hung down, or stuck up, here and there. The bottom could not be distinguished,
though it must have been a long way below them. The crevasse extended beyond
sight to left and right.

The
gap had been rudely bridged by an upside-down arch of pitch, a solid, smooth
black curve half a span thick but no wider than Irisis's hips. Lyrinx
footprints tracked across it.

'What
the hell has happened here?' said Flangers, picking himself up and rubbing his
backside. His fingertips came up bloody.

'The
exploding node must've wrenched the ground apart,' said Fyn-Mah.

'Or
the Great Seep has drawn back into the earth,' Irisis muttered, 'cracking away
the solid pitch around its edges. This bridge hasn't been here long.'

'And
we could run into more lyrinx at any time.' Fyn-Mah edged out onto the span,
holding up her glowing crystal.

Even
as she spoke, a shadow appeared from the opening on the other side. An enormous
male lyrinx spread its wings and opened its bucket-sized mouth in a grin of
triumph.

Behind
them, Myrurn's sword scraped as he drew it from the scabbard. Irisis looked
over her shoulder. A lyrinx, no, two, were coming the other way. They were
trapped.

'Let
me go first,' said Flangers, drawing his sword. 'That's what I'm here for.'

'Stay
back!' Fyn-Mah had one hand in her pocket. She gave Irisis a sideways glance,
as if to say, Do you now question my judgment? 'When I give the word, cover
your eyes.' She crept a little further along the bridge, which curved down then
up, like a suspended rope.

The
lyrinx stood at the other end, its eyes glittering in the light from the
perquisitor's crystal. It had something in its left hand. Irisis could not see
what, but her heart began to thump. This was no ordinary lyrinx. She could
sense the power; the intensity. Many lyrinx had a talent for the Secret Art,
though few used it for anything but flying. This creature was different. She
sensed that it was a mancer every bit as powerful as the great human or Aachim
mages, and the device in its hand felt potent.

Myrum
sang out, 'Might need a bit of help, Crafter.'

She
whirled. A pair of lyrinx were advancing from the tunnel, side by side. Drawing
her sword, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Myrum. From the corner of her
eye she could see Fyn-Mah on the bridge, only waist high to the mancer-lyrinx.

It
let out a deep, roaring bellow that echoed strangely off the hard walls. The
left hand slid out, palm upwards. Irisis felt a hot glow on her cheek, had the
sense of an invisible cloud roiling outwards, and the floor softened under her.
She instinctively lifted one foot, but when she put it down again, the surface
had already hardened. The other foot did not move. She was stuck, like a fly to
tar paper.