Authors: Ian Irvine
'You
might as well get some rest,' said Fyn-Mah. 'The reefs and islands of the
central sea lie well south of here. It'll take all day and part of the night to
reach there.'
Irisis
nodded but remained where she was, too hyped up to sleep. The day passed
slowly. Long after dark they settled on a cobble beach on the lee side of a
rocky island, to await the dawn.
Irisis
shivered in her coat all night, and the following morning too. They had been
going back and forth for hours and had passed over dozens of islands, though
few were more than lichen-covered rocks in that dismal sea. There had been no
sign of human life.
'Any
luck?' she said to Fyn-Mah, who was crouched over her basin again.
The
perquisitor scowled. 'It's too gusty. The crystal shakes as if it were sitting
on a jelly.'
'What
if we were to set down?'
'Wouldn't
help much, in this wind. Water's troublesome at the best of times. The crystal
is meant to be floated on quicksilver, but I don't have any.' They kept
working, aware that time was ebbing. Not long before dusk, the pilot struck the
alarm gong. They ran out.
'Boats!'
said Inouye, pointing.
Fyn-Mah
scanned the sea with her spyglass. 'A fleet, to the east. And flying the
Council flag.'
Signal
mirrors flashed. 'Looks like they've seen us,' said Irisis.
Fyn-Mah
went back to her shivering bowl and crystal, but as dark fell she gave it away.
'It's shaking worse than ever now. We'll never find him.'
'It
won't be easy for Ghorr, either' said Irisis.
'He's
got a whole fleet, and Arts for seeking and finding.'
Nonetheless,
they continued. Giving up was not an option.
'Islands
ahead,' Flangers called, around eight in the evening.
'Where
are we?' Fyn-Mah was staring at the floating crystal, illuminated by a single
candle.
Irisis
pointed to the place on the chart. 'It shows half a dozen small islands, plus
dozens of islets, no more than wave-washed rocks.'
'Go
low, and slow. We'll all keep watch. Yell if you see anything.'
Irisis
spent hours at the rail. They were flying so low that occasional breakers
dashed spray in their faces. An icy wind cut straight through her summer coat.
There was just enough light for her to distinguish sea and land.
'What's
down there?' she said to Muss. 'I can't see a single light. Not even a camp
fire.'
'Most
of these islands are uninhabited. There are no trees, therefore no wood.
There's nothing to eat but fish and seaweed.'
'No
wood.' Irisis wrapped her arms around herself. 'If they are down there, they'll
be freezing as well as starving.'
'Well'
said Muss, coming up from the stern, 'at least we know where Flydd isn't. And
we might assume he's not on one of the islands to the east, since the fleet has
come from there.'
'How
many more islands are there to search?'
'About
eight hundred, though if the crystal is accurate we can rule out most.'
'Even
so, it'll take days' said Irisis. 'Or weeks. They'll shoot us out of the air
first. It's hopeless.' 'There is one thing' said Muss. 'What's that?' 'I know
where we can buy a flask of quicksilver.'
They
turned south-west to Jibstorn, a town on the Highpath that ran from Tyrkir, the
capital city of Oolo, through the edge of Candalume Forest, then south into frigid
lands unknown even to Muss. The trip took all night and part of the following
day, for the field was weak here.
Jibstorn
was a grim, grey place, a town of smoking chimneys and grimy walls, where the
waste of ten thousand humans and five times as many animals flowed down a ditch
in the centre of the street. In the five-month winter, which was already on the
doorstep, the noisome effluent froze in the drains, diverting fresh muck all
across the road.
'I'll
just put on a disguise,' said Muss as Inouye set the air-floater down at the
waterfront, scattering a noisy flock of seagulls and a gaggle of red-nosed,
staring children. 'You can never be too careful.'
He
slipped into the cabin and closed the door. Irisis, who'd always been curious
as to how he did it, went around the other side where there was a small tear in
the canvas. She put her eye to it, feeling like a voyeur.
She
caught just a blur of movement. Muss did not change his clothes or make up his
face — he simply morphed, clothes and all, from the old shape to the new. His
garments changed at the same time. She turned away in case he realised she was
there. Muss wasn't a lowly prober at all -he had to be a morphmancer and didn't
want anyone to know it. And clearly he was a master of the Art who didn't
suffer any appreciable aftersickness. She wondered if Flydd knew.
Muss
came out dressed as a rustic trader, a red-faced, bald-headed man with spindly
legs and a sagging belly. The change was masterly — she could even smell the
sourness of stale beer on his breath. She did not meet his eye. Irisis was
afraid to, in case she gave herself away.
Fyn-Mah
went with Muss to find his contact and buy the quicksilver. Irisis and Flangers
bought supplies in the markets. Jibstorn turned out to be a putrescent, sour town
where the scrutators held no sway. The people were unfriendly and the merchants
out-and-out thieves.
'At
least the quality's good,' said Irisis, eyeing a haunch of venison. After a
fortnight on bean-and-onion stew she could have eaten it raw.
'It'd
want to be, at these prices!'
Irisis
fingered silver out of her wallet. 'It's the scrutator's coin, not mine, and if
he were here he'd have the best.'
They
bought supplies for a fortnight and, by the time all had been delivered to the
air-floater, Fyn-Mah and Muss were back. Fyn-Mah was smiling, a rare sight.
Inside
the air-floater, she cleaned her bowl and filled it with quicksilver. The
surface made a perfect mirror and the crystal sat neatly on top of it. As she
drew power, the crystal rotated smoothly until it was pointing back the way
they had come. She tapped the side of the bowl. The mirror shivered but the
crystal did not budge.
'That's
better.' Fyn-Mah checked the direction against the lodestone in its case and
made a mark on her chart. 'Tell Inouye to go with all speed; we're a long way
behind.'
And
maybe too late already, Irisis thought.
The
return trip proved to be a slow one. They flew into a headwind all the way and
sometimes it seemed to be blowing them backwards. By nightfall they weren't
even halfway.
Irisis
began to pace the sagging canvas deck; she couldn't help it. There was a knot
under her breastbone. After giving both friends up for dead, and having Flydd,
at least, miraculously reappear, her emotions had been wrung dry. The
scrutators' fleet must have reached the main group of islands this morning.
They could have searched dozens by now. Could have found them. What would Ghorr
do to Flydd? She didn't think he would be executed on the spot, for the
scrutators liked to make public examples. He would be taken back to Gospett, or
some other suitably large centre, for trial and punishment. And once in their
hands there would be no escape; no way to rescue him, either. Nor Nish, if he'd
survived.
She
went into the cabin. Fyn-Mah stood by the window hole, an aperture normally
covered by a piece of canvas, watching the crystal. Fumes of quicksilver were
deadly in a confined space, so everyone had to sleep outside in the bitter
wind. Any change?' said Irisis. 'No.' 'What if they've already been taken? Is
there any way to tell?'
'No.'
'So
by following the crystal, we could be heading into a trap.'
'Yes.'
Irisis
tried to meet her eyes but Fyn-Mah looked away. She was in one of her moods and
nothing would be gained by talking to her. Irisis went to her sleeping pouch,
in a hammock strung on the port deck, and swayed there all night. Every
movement swung her out over the rail. If the rope broke she would go flying
over the side to her death. Her feet were freezing and sleep would not come.
Further back, Flangers tossed in his hammock, no more at peace than she was. On
the starboard side, Muss was snoring gently. Nothing affected his repose.
The
sun rose to reveal the same bleak sky and slaty, misty sea. To their left, the
narrow peninsula of Karints stretched into the unfathomable distance. Ahead
were hundreds of islands and thousands of reefs, the bane of many a mariner.
Irisis stamped her feet in a vain attempt to get warm.
'Hoy!'
shouted Fyn-Mah. 'You're shaking the bowl.'
Irisis
took up the perquisitor's spyglass and scanned the horizon.
'Anything?'
Flangers appeared beside her, rubbing blue fingers.
'No'
'Cup of hot ginger tea?'
'Thanks,'
she said. That'd be lovely.'
They
warmed their fingers on the wooden bowls, feeling no need to talk. It was not
until the middle of the day that she saw the first sail, dead ahead.
'That's
a bad sign,' said Muss. 'Either the scrutators are heading directly for him, or
. . .'
'Or
they already have him,' Fyn-Mah finished bleakly. 'If we hadn't spent a day and
a half getting the quicksilver —’
'We
might still be looking,' said Flangers.
In
half an hour Ghorr's fleet was spread out across a great arc of sea. The
air-floater, following the crystal, was still heading directly towards the
first ship.
'What's
ahead?' asked Fyn-Mah.
'A
scatter of islands, in that bank of mist,' Irisis replied without consulting
the map.
'The
ship's going to get there first. Pilot!' she shouted. 'Can't you go any
faster?'
Inouye
did not answer, though the sound of the rotor rose slightly. It didn't seem to
make any difference.
'The
headwind's too strong,' said Irisis. 'The harder we go the more it resists us.'
'Go
lower,' said Muss. 'The wind won't be as strong near the sea.'
They
angled down. The sails disappeared back over the horizon and the race continued.
The mist clung about a handful of low, round islands, scattered like potatoes
hurled from a bucket. There were about twenty of them, most just uninhabitable
wet brown rock.
'How
long has it been since the shipwreck?' asked Fyn-Mah.
'Nine
days.'
Fyn-Mah
shivered. 'I wouldn't last two days down there. I'm going back to the watch
bowl. Keep an eye out for smoke.'
'They'd
have the fire out now,' said Irisis. 'If they had one.'
'From
sea level they wouldn't be able to see the fleet.'
'But
they could see us,' said Irisis. 'We're still not going fast enough.'
Go
right down,' the perquisitor said to Inouye. 'Just skim the waves.'
Inouye
turned her head, and her eyes seemed to take up half her small face. 'If a gust
drops us into the water, it'll tear the cabin off.'
'As
low as is safe.' Fyn-Mah went back to the scrying basin.
Irisis
followed her into the cabin. 'Can you tell which island it is?'
'No.'
Irisis
couldn't stand the inactivity. She went back and stood next to the pilot. They
did seem to be making more headway this altitude. Shortly Flangers appeared,
relaying a minute change of course. Inouye moved the steering arm slightly and
checked the heading against her lodestone.
'Which
island are we heading for?' Irisis asked. This low, they could see nothing but
mist.
A
group of three in a line,' Inouye said softly, ducking her head to avoid
Irisis's eye. She moved to her left, opening the space between them.
What
was it about the little pilot? She was agonisingly shy and kept everyone at a
distance. And doubtless she's afraid of me, Irisis decided. I've got powerful
friends; I can choose. She has to do what she's told. It's taken her away from
friends, family, man and children, and she'll probably never see them again.
They may have been killed simply because Inouye had obeyed Fyn-Mah's orders,
and she could do nothing about it.
'How
many children do you have?' Irisis said.
'Two!'
Inouye whispered.
'How
old are they?'
'Sann
is three and a half. Mya will be two . . , next week.' She looked away,
gripping the steering arm so hard that her hand shook.
Irisis
did not know what to say.
The
sails appeared on the horizon, two ships close together. 'Do thev have him?'
said Irisis.
No
one answered. It was impossible to tell.
'Go
up a trifle, Inouye,' Irisis went on. 'Flangers, run back to Fyn-Mah.’
The
first island grew swiftly. It was shaped like a bean with a bite out of it.
Beyond it lay another, like a grey dishrag crumpled on a floor; then the third,
an oval plate piled high in the middle. The two ships were passing the third
island.