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Authors: Ian Irvine

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It
bared its teeth and one clawed hand struck out at the thapter. It was just a
reflex, for she was too far away and the metal was proof against its claws. Its
wings rippled. Gilhaelith shouted something but Tiaan could not make it out.
Did he want her to attack, or keep well away? As she circled, the thapters wake
buffeted the creature. Again it dropped; its wings missed a beat; its mouth
hung open. She crept towards it, driving it to the cliff and the tall trees
that reached two-thirds of the way to the top.

The
lyrinx shuddered and its chameleon skin flared red, then white, then purple. It
tried to duck in under the upper canopy of a tree but Tiaan smashed through the
small branches after it. Its eyes were staring, its mouth opening and closing.

One
wing struck a branch. The lyrinx fell, saved itself with a great flapping of
leathery wings and crashed into the lower branches. Everything disappeared in a
whirling cloud of leaves. When that cleared, the lyrinx came out on the
underside of the canopy but it was no longer holding Gilhaelith.

Tiaan
panicked, whirling the thapter this way and that, thinking he'd fallen. She was
about to dart down the cliff when she heard a thin cry and spotted him clinging
to the fork of a denuded branch.

Tiaan
brought the thapter around and underneath, feeling quite desperately weary. Her
hand-shook on the controller; her spine throbbed mercilessly. Spans below, the
lyrinx was struggling up through the foliage towards him.

She
made the minute adjustments necessary to bring the hatch up beneath Gilhaelith,
but he shook his head and began to crawl along the branch away from her. His
trouser leg had been shredded, one boot was missing and he had blood down his
side. And still he did not want to be rescued. What was the matter with him?

He
raised his hands, out and up in the classic mancer's pose. He was drawing power
against her! Without thinking, Tiaan rammed the branch from beneath. He lost
his grip and fell through the hatch, landing so hard that it winded him. As the
lyrinx beat its way towards her, Tiaan rotated the craft in the air and shot
upwards.

Gilhaelith
lay collapsed on the floor. The surviving lyrinx were converging on the untouched
end of the ridge, where the remaining slaves huddled. Malien had survived,
surrounded by a small protective bubble, though she was on her knees.

Tiaan
raced the lyrinx there. As she settled the machine next to Malien, the slaves
surged forward then stopped, staring at the thapter. They could never have seen
anvthing like it. Tiaan's head boiled over. The lyrinx that had abducted
Gilhaelith was now circling some distance away, signalling furiously down.

Her
eye was drawn down, down, to Alcifer. From behind the central dome a winged
creature rose into the air, followed by a second and a third. Others joined
them, leaping into the sky with their massive thighs. Dozens. Hundreds. A whole
wall of them.

'Quick,
Malien!' she shouted. 'They're coming.'

An ashen
Malien dragged herself up over the side. The slaves moved tentatively towards
the thapter.

'Where's
Talis?' cried Tiaan.

Malien
shook her head. 'He's gone. Forgre too.' Her voice was tight with grief.

The
fizzing exploded in Tiaan's mind. She lifted the yoke and the thapter rose
jerkily, though its whine hardly changed. Something was wrong.

'I've
hardly any power' she said. 'They must be using some kind of node-drainer.'

'Can't
be,' slurred Malien. 'It's not stopping them from flying.'

The
slaves began to run towards them, crying and holding out their arms. 'What
about the slaves?' said Tiaan.

'Go,
before it's too late.'

Tiaan
looked into the desperate eyes of the slaves and wanted to weep. How could she
leave them behind — she had been one herself. But there was no choice. Feeling
like a murderer, she jerked up the yoke. The machine lifted sluggishly. Men and
women with staring eyes clutched at the sides but there was nothing to hang on
to. The thapter rose to half the height of the trees but would climb no higher,
and it moved forward no faster than a running man. A wall of lyrinx were
spiralling up from Alcifer, rolling into a flapping cylinder that was closing
rapidly on her.

'What
am I to do?' cried Tiaan. 'I can't get past them.'

There
was no answer. Malien lay slumped on the floor on top of Gilhaelith. Tiaan
fixed the field in her mind. There was plenty of power in it, but when she drew
it, only a trickle came.

'I'll
try to draw from another node,' she said to herself. She found one, more
distant, latched onto it and the thapter shot up through the closing cylinder
of lyrinx.

Gilhaelith
shook Malien off and came to his feet, looking dazed. The thapter lurched and
he fell through the hole to the lower level. He began to climb back up. Tiaan
couldn't afford the distraction, for lyrinx were now rising out of Alcifer in
their thousands. She dropped the hatch and kicked the bar across. Gilhaelith
began to beat on the metal.

The
lyrinx spread out to cut off her escape to the east, the south and the north. She
had no alternative but to turn west. Within a minute the power began to fade,
and shortly the thapter was back to its previous pace. The burst of speed had
taken it west; snow-tipped peaks loomed ahead. She looked over her shoulder.
The lyrinx were gaining rapidly.

There
was still an hour to sunset, but that wouldn't save her. This close, the enemy
could track her all night. She tried another node but the acceleration was less
and did not last as long. They had anticipated her. She kept going, switching
from one node to another as soon as the power began to fail, jerking and
hopping across the sky but never getting far enough ahead to lose them.

The
thapter passed over, or rather between, the mountains, for Tiaan dared not try
for extra height. Beyond, a grass-covered plain extended into the distance. She
continued west, now travelling swiftly with a strong tailwind. The lyrinx had
spread out for leagues to north and south.

Malien
stirred and rolled over onto her back, observing what Tiaan did without speaking.

'I
can't get away,' Tiaan said. 'What if I were to turn back and fly straight at
them?'

'They
might take all your power,' said Malien hoarsely. She shook her head. 'It was a
trap and I walked right into it. They lured us here. That's why Gilhaelith's
whereabouts were common knowledge. I can't believe I didn't realise it.'

'You'd
still have gone ahead,' said Tiaan.

'But
more carefully. And Forgre and Talis might still be alive. Now I truly stand
alone in the world.'

Tiaan
did not have the words to comfort her. On they went, carving their staccato
path, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing. They passed across the plain into
swamp and forest. The thapter dipped sharply, as if it had lost power for a
second, after which the hum resumed, though at a lower pitch.

'What
was that?' said Malien, sitting up.

'It
was as if, for a second, the controller wasn't working, though I could still
see the field.'

Tiaan
continued at a reduced pace. At sunset she looked back, but could not see the
lyrinx at all. 'They've given up! They've turned back, Malien.'

Malien
climbed onto the side, staring into the east. 'I believe you're right. I wonder
why?'

'I
suppose they realised that they'd never catch us.'

'Can
you draw power now?'

'No
more than before.'

'Curious,'
said Malien to herself. 'Could they have attached a draining device to this
machine?'

'Which
way should I go, north or south?'

'Try
south.'

Tiaan
moved the lever in the required direction. Nothing happened. She tried again,
then the other way.

'Malien!'
she said in a panicky voice. 'It's not answering the controls.'

The
song of the mechanism suddenly stopped and the thapter arced down towards the
plains.

'Malien,'
Tiaan screamed. 'I've got nothing. It must be the amplimet. It's trying to kill
us.'

'But
a crash would destroy it too.' Malien swayed on her feet, popped the crystal
and took the controls. It made no difference; they kept plummeting earthwards.

'We're
going to die,' said Tiaan. 'I never thought it would be like this.'

'I
can see the field but I can't draw power from it either.'

'Why
not?'

'I
don't know. It just isn't working. Nothing's working.'

As
abruptly, the song of the mechanism was back. The thapter lurched left, then
jerked so hard to the right that Malien was thrown against the wall. The whole
machine shuddered, before curving into level flight.

Malien
moved the yoke every possible way, but it made no difference. She let go. The
yoke moved left by itself. The thapter veered in the same direction, a little
south of west, and the note of the machine went up a notch.

Tiaan
sat on the floor, her chin resting on her knees. 'I don't know what's
happening, Malien.'

'Someone
. . , something has taken control of it and I can't get it back. So that's why
the lyrinx gave up. They knew they could snatch it away from us whenever they
wanted to.'

'Either
that; said Tiaan, 'or the amplimet is up to its treacherous work again.'

'But
why now?' said Malien. 'Why here, after coming all this way?'

The
thapter, whining gently, sped on.

'I
suppose there's a node it wants to communicate with.'

Fifty-six

'Xervish,'
said Irisis one chilly night a few days after she'd come back from Snizort.
They were sitting on either side of the fire after another of her masterly
dinners. Everyone else had gone to bed. She was working on a piece of jewellery
in silver filigree.

'Mm?'
He was perusing a chart of central Lauralin, showing Nennifer and the
surrounding mountains.

Flydd
had been in a better humour since their return. He spent most of his time
working in a large journal, either writing, sketching maps, charts and plans,
or making endless lists and calculations. Only the relationship with Yggur was
little changed. He circled Yggur, snapping and snarling, while Yggur maintained
a chilly reserve. They could never be friends. It remained to be seen whether
they could work together at all.

'How
did you come to meet Eiryn Muss?'

'Why
do you ask?' Flydd said without looking up.

'He's
the strangest man I ever met. What does he want, or care about, or feel? No one
knows.'

'He's
the best spy there is — that's all I care about.'

His
tone told Irisis to mind her own business, and for that reason she'd long
delayed asking him, but she couldn't hold it in any longer.

'Did
you know he's a morphmancer?'

'What!'
he rose out of his chair. 'Where did you hear that?'

'I
spied on him before we went into Jibstorn. He doesn't assume a disguise at all
— he simply shapechanges, clothes and all, and it only takes him a minute.'

Flydd
let out his breath so violently that the candle flames flickered and danced. 'I
often wondered how he did it so perfectly, and so quickly.'

And
you never asked?'

'Every
craft has its secrets. As long as the job's done, what does it matter how it's
done? Why didn't you tell me this before?'

'You
get cranky whenever I approach one of your precious mancer's secrets, Xervish.'

'Cranky,
me? Is there anything else you want to get off your chest?'

'Well,
er . . .'

'It's
important, Irisis,' he said snappishly. He sat down again, pulling his chair
closer to the fire.

'What
else was Muss looking for in Snizort?'

'What
do you mean?'

'Apart
from the flesh-formed creatures, and the phynadr we stole?'

'That's
all.' He seized her hands in his gnarled paws. 'Why do you ask?'

'After
we'd found them, he was still looking for something. Muss didn't find it and
was mightily put out.'

'Put
out?'

'It's
the only time I've ever seen him show emotion. He was really vexed.'

'What
can he have been looking for?' Flydd began to pace back and forth on the worn
flagstones. 'He's a morphmancer, a powerful adept. And he went to Gumby Marth
just after the battle, defying my orders.' He paled. 'He must have been after
the tears.'

'Did
he know about them then?' said Irisis.

'I
told him when he met me, after Troist picked me up ..."

'So
why was he looking for them at Snizort, weeks before?'

'I
don't know. No one knew . . . Unless . . .'

'Xervish?'

'What
if it was him all along?' Flydd breathed. 'Muss had charge of the device Ghorr
gave me in Nennifer, to break the node-drainer. And a morphmancer might easily
overcome the scrutator magic that sealed the box. What if Muss tampered with the
device, so as to create the tears?'

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