Alchymist (68 page)

Flangers
and Muss had rigged up a rope ladder between the bottom of the airbag and the
rail, and run a line around the floater-gas generator, which had a huge dent in
one side. Flangers was hammering out the crusted pins that held it to its
mountings.

'Gently,'
Irisis called. 'Don't make a spark —’

'There's
no iron in it,' said Flangers.

'What
about your hammer and punch?'

He
looked down, grinning sheepishly. Morons! she thought.

'We're
still losing altitude,' Irisis said to Fyn-Mah, who was standing in the doorway
of the cabin with the map flapping in her hands. 'Better find a place to land.
The gas won't keep us up much longer.'

'Turn
due north. There are reefs and islets not far from here.'

'Doesn't
sound very promising.' Irisis turned onto the new heading and an hour later,
when she could barely stand up, saw surf breaking on submerged obstacles. 'I
don't see any dry land.'

Fyn-Mah
was now on the cabin roof with her spyglass. 'There, to the left.'

Irisis
rotored that way, shortly encountering a platform of black rock fringed with
olive-green seaweed. The surface was only half a span above the water,
crisscrossed with water-filled gutters and rockpools, and none of it was dry.

'Is
this the best we can do?' she said, dismayed. The wind was jerking the
air-floater this way and that and she wasn't experienced enough to control it.
She aimed for a flat slab of rock but overshot. The machine set down with a
crash, right in one of the gutters. Water dribbled in through the canvas floor.

'Up!'
yelled Flydd as a wave foamed towards them. 'The next wave —’

'I
know, I know.'

The
air-floater would not rise, of course, for the floater-gas generator was no
longer connected. She spun the rotor hard, grinding the keel along the gutter
and bouncing it up onto the next slab. Grapnels were flung out, pulled tight
and the machine came to rest canted over on its side. Irisis let go the
controller and lay down on the sloping deck. She simply could not stand up.

'What
happens when the tide comes in?' asked Flangers.

'The
Karama Malama isn't big enough to have tides,' said Eiryn Muss.

'Let's
get the damn thing fixed and get out of here,' Flydd said tersely. 'I've spent
enough time in this bloody sea.'

'You'll
have to do it,' Irisis said. 'I'm utterly worn out.'

'It
can't be that difficult,' said Flydd.

Flangers
shot him an unreadable glance. He and Muss tightened the grapnel ropes to bring
the deck horizontal, then brought the floater-gas generator down to the front
deck and began to take it apart.

'Does
anyone know how these things operate?' Irisis heard Flydd say.

'I
imagine Irisis could work it out,' said Flangers.

'She's
exhausted. Pull it apart, see what you can find. And don't break anything.'

'Which
way does this screw?'

'It
doesn't screw at all, you clot,' said Flydd cheerfully. 'You —’

Irisis
was amazed to realise that they were enjoying themselves. Good-natured though
the banter was, it irritated her. Men! She slipped over the side. Being a
genius with her hands, she couldn't bear to listen as they squabbled about how
to get the case open.

She
trudged across to the far edge of the rock platform, the brown pea-sized
bladders of seaweed popping underfoot. There was nothing to see but water.
Irisis sat down on the wet rock, but even that was tiring. She lay on her back,
feeling the cold water seeping through her coat but too drained to do anything
about it. Irisis was hurt that Flydd hadn't recognised all they'd done to find
him; she felt unappreciated. She could have fixed the device, weary though she
was, but let Flydd have his go. When he failed, he must realise how much he
needed her.

She
put up with their incompetence for another ten minutes, then looked up to see
dark clouds gathering behind them. A wave broke next to her and she scrambled
to her feet. They were dreadfully exposed here — the mildest of storms would
drive head-high breakers right across the platform. A strong wind would simply
blow them away. It had gone on long enough. Irisis wobbled across to the
air-floater.

'Get
out of the way, you dills! Can't you see, it goes like this.' She twisted the
housing one way, then partway back.

The
mechanism clicked and she tugged gently on each end. The two parts slid open.

She
laid the internal workings on the canvas, turned it over and said, 'There's the
problem. The crystal that draws power into the mechanism was smashed by the
impact. I'll pop in another one and we'll be on our way.'

It
didn't turn out to be that simple, of course. There were no replacement
crystals.

'We
had a spare,' said Inouye in that dreary, husk-like voice, "but one of the
other air-floaters had a problem on the way from Nennifer, and we had to give
it to them.'

'Don't
you have any other crystals?' asked Flydd.

'Only
in the spare controller for the rotor. But it wouldn't fit.'

'What
about my scrying crystal?' said Fyn-Mah.

'It
wouldn't do at all,' said Irisis without looking up. 'I'll have to cut down the
spare controller crystal. And that won't be easy without suitable tools.'

After
an hour of careful labour, during which time the storm clouds came ever closer,
she managed to obtain a suitably shaped sliver of crystal, which she tested with
her pliance. 'It's far from ideal, but it's the best I can do.'

Flangers
had pounded the dent out of the housing on the rock platform, keeping well away
from the airbag in case of sparks. Irisis inserted the crystal and put the case
together. Flangers and Muss climbed the ladder, hefting the device onto its
frame. They filled the barrel with seawater. By the time all that had been done
the airbag was as flabby as an old bladder.

Irisis
held her breath as she worked the controller. The floater-gas generator
shuddered and gave a cheerful whistling hiss.

By
this time the sea had come up and waves were breaking over the platform,
foaming all the way across and swinging the keel on its mooring ropes. The wind
had risen, jerking the airbag this way and that. It took a long time before the
air-floater began to lift; when it did, it reached a height of a few hundred
spans and would rise no higher.

They
crept north-west, crossing the southern coast of Meldorin after noon the
following day. She'd expected to see lyrinx everywhere but, apart from a sea
eagle wheeling in the distance, the sky was empty. Some way off to their left
she saw a town or port, abandoned long ago, with trees growing in the middle of
the streets. They crept on. Directly ahead, a range of mountains towered above
them. The air-floater would never rise that high.

'Go
east around it,' said Flydd, who had a rolled map in one hand.

'We've
got to set down,' Irisis said, rubbing her swollen eyes. 'I can't go any longer
without sleep.'

'I'm
not keen on stopping just here. I believe there's a lyrinx town not far away.'

'There'll
be no light tonight.' Irisis cocked an eye at the dense overcast. 'It'll be
just as dangerous floating in the dark, if we can't get higher than this.'

'We'll
have to take that risk. Keep going as long as you can.'

It
was completely dark before they had passed by the eastern end of the range and
turned back onto their north-westerly tack.

'What's
ahead of us?' said Irisis.

'Grassland,
then forest, swamp, more forest, more grassland and, finally, desert.'

'And
the lyrinx control the lot?'

'Most
of it,' said Flydd. 'Not being keen on water, they keep clear of the bog
country.'

'Even
so, I don't see how we're better off than we were before.'

'There
are creatures in Meldorin that even the lyrinx are afraid of.'

'Very
comforting. So where are we going?'

'I'll
tell you, if we get there.'

She
shivered and drew her coat around her. There had been snow on the mountains and
she could feel it on the wind.

The
dark became so intense that finally they were forced to land, creeping down
with the rotor off while Flangers stood at the front, and Muss at the rear,
with lanterns held out on poles to watch for trees and other obstacles.
Normally they were forbidden on air-floaters because of the danger of
explosion. Irisis held her breath all the way but they made it safely to the
ground, hammered in wooden pegs and tethered the machine.

'If
there are lyrinx about, we've just told them exactly where we are,' said
Fyn-Mah.

Can't
be helped.' Flydd paced up and down, cracking his knuckles and muttering under
his breath.

'I'll
make the camp fire,' said Irisis. 'I'm starving.'

'Can't
risk fire here, in case there are enemy patrols on high. Have something from
the stew pot.'

'Cold
bean-and-onion soup? We've been eating that for weeks.'

'The
youth of today!' he muttered. 'When I was on the clanker-hauling team, I would
have given my right foot for a bowl of bean-and-onion soup. Fetch me some,
would you?'

'Get
it yourself!' Irisis felt like hitting him. They'd passed half a dozen isolated
peaks where they could have hidden for the night, built a roaring fire and
cooked a decent meal from the supplies they'd bought in Jibstorn. Not even a
brazier was permitted on the air-floater, lest it set off the floater gas.
Irisis could think of nothing but the haunch of venison in the larder.

He
was unfazed. 'Shall I wait on you with a bowl?'

'No
thanks, I'm going to sleep. Why don't you pull the airbag down and patch those
gashes properly?'

'Good
idea.' He strolled down to the galley as if nothing had happened.

They
warmed a flat iron against the floater-gas generator. Flangers ran it over the
patches until the tar softened enough for the patch to be eased off, re-tarred
and replaced smoothly. A larger patch was placed over that, just to be sure.
Irisis set the floater-gas generator running and went to the cabin. She lay on
the floor next to Nish, listening to his steady breathing, and suddenly, out of
nowhere, realised that she loved him.

This
changed everything — she could no longer be fatalistic about their probable
fate. She had something to live for. And everything to fear.

The
night passed uneventfully. Nish was still asleep in the morning, which bothered
her. It was almost two days since he'd hit his head. However, he was breathing
normally and nothing seemed broken so she left him to it.

The
airbag was so full that the machine was straining at its ropes. They did not
wait for breakfast, just went up as fast as they could and kept going, north by
north-west.

In
the mid-morning they passed over a city, also abandoned and partly overgrown.
'Garching,' said Flydd. 'It was held to be a beautiful place, in its time. A
garden city at the foot of the mountains.' He scanned it with the spyglass,
frowning.

'What
is it?' said Irisis, who was standing beside him, Inouye having recovered
enough to take the controller.

'Oh,
I was just thinking of the past. Garching features in one of the Great Tales,
you know. I was wondering if such times will ever come again. If, indeed,
there'll be any more Great Tales. Or anyone to hear the old ones.'

'I
don't imagine the ancient days were quite as wonderful as they're made out.'

'I'm
sure they weren't but, except for the dark days of the Clysm, they weren't as
desperate as our time, either. I'm afraid, Irisis. Afraid this is the end, not
just for us, but for every human on Santhenar.'

Again
Irisis felt that chill. She had never heard him talk like this before.

'Surely
the scrutators can't be that bad?'

'They're
worse than you can imagine! I hadn't realised it before — I was too busy with
my provincial concerns to see the true picture. But since this last phase of
the war began it's become all too clear. The Council of Scrutators, for all
their control, for all their spy networks, for all their power, are not only
corrupt, but incompetent. They're fossils and must be swept away.'

A
shiver of dread started at the soles of her feet and ran up the backs of her
legs, all the way to her scalp. 'That's treason, Xervish, punishable by the
most gruesome death that human ingenuity can come up with.' Irisis had fought
the scrutators, opposed them in many ways, escaped from their bastion of
Nennifer, but those crimes were nothing to what he was proposing. It was worse
than treason — it was sedition, the worst crime of all, and it would mean not
only his death and hers, but the execution of her family, her friends, and
every single person of her family's line. The House of Stirm would be expunged
from the earth.