Tetrarch (Well of Echoes) (15 page)

‘Some mancers use brimstone crystals.’

‘Not for drawing power. It would shatter them.’

‘Agreed. What else?’ Malien leaned forward eagerly. ‘What is the most powerful crystal?’

‘Diamond, of course, but diamonds are generally too small to use in controllers. And large ones are too precious.’

‘Not if they’re the only thing that will do,’ said Malien. ‘And Rulke had the best of everything.’

‘But diamond is the hardest of all. Why didn’t they find it?’

‘Because, unlike other crystals, diamond burns. That must be the answer: these pairs of sockets once held small hedrons made of diamond.’

‘How were they connected to the amplimet binnacle?’

‘Perhaps through these tiny holes in the back, no bigger than a cat’s whisker? And look, there are also fifty-four holes in the back of the amplimet cavity.’

‘If they were connected to the crystal there, why did metalmancers not recover the wires?’

‘Because they were not metal, and also vanished without trace.’

‘How can that be?’

‘What wires would disappear when heated, Tiaan?’

‘Ones made of thread, or spider-silk, or hair, though none are useful in the Art as I know it.’

‘Nor I. Wait here.’

Again Malien disappeared in the direction of the storeroom. She was gone for ages. It was after midnight. Tiaan lay on the warm floor of the construct. Only hours left …

Malien thumped into the operator’s compartment, waking Tiaan from a deep sleep.

‘Any luck?’ Tiaan called. She went up the ladder.

‘Possibly.’ Malien opened a small case that contained dozens of pink diamonds, all the same, and a leather sheet wrapped around a black cord made of braided threads. She drew out a single thread. ‘These are hollow whiskers made from soot, as is diamond itself. The whiskers are stronger than steel, yet they too would have burned leaving no more than a trace of smut. And the crystal calls to the whiskers, for elementally they are the same. It’s a perfect geomantic design, just right for controlling the strong forces. Feed them through.’

Tiaan fed fifty-four whiskers through the holes in the black box and up to the cavity while Malien inserted fifty-four woken diamonds in place. They made a three-dimensional pattern that seemed peculiarly appropriate to the strong forces. Once the whiskers were connected, everything looked so right that Tiaan knew this was the way it was meant to be. It was so beautifully simple.

They looked at one another.

‘Go on,’ said Malien.

‘I hardly dare,’ Tiaan said. ‘It was dangerous enough just scooting above the ground. I wouldn’t know how to control it, using the strong forces.’

Malien edged her out of the way without repeating her offer. ‘Then let me try.’

Tiaan was uncomfortable with that idea, and more so as Malien took the goggles and put the amplimet in. She hoped, selfishly, that the older woman would fail. If Malien could operate it, what chance was there for Tiaan ever to do so?

Tiaan pressed the amplimet down and closed the cap. The construct shook, rumbled and rose smoothly from the floor. Malien flicked down one of the finger levers and a blast of heat coiled up the sides. She pulled on the knobbed trumpet and the machine kept rising. She directed it around the ceiling, then took it down to the floor again.

‘You knew what to do all the time,’ Tiaan accused.

Malien had drops of sweat on her brow. It must have been harder than it looked. ‘I did not even suspect it until you discovered those little holes.’

‘Well, you’ve done it.’ It was a momentous discovery, an awesome moment. The world would never be the same again. What was Malien going to do now?

‘My people have sought this secret for two hundred years, here and on Aachan.’

‘But they didn’t find it. Is an amplimet necessary for flight?’ said Tiaan.

‘Probably not, if the hedron is strong enough, and the operator skilled.’

‘Did Rulke have one?’

‘I don’t know. Your turn, Tiaan.’

‘You’re going to let
me
fly it?’ It did not seem possible.

‘Why not?’

‘I just thought …’

‘The trumpet-shaped controller works the same way, but you pull up on it to climb and push down to descend.’

Tiaan took hold of the knob. Her heart was pounding.

‘Remember, do everything gently,’ said Malien beside her.

Tiaan swallowed, then pulled up the knob the way Malien had done. The construct jerked into the air.

‘Put it down, quick!’

‘What’s the matter?’ Tiaan cried. ‘What have I done wrong?’

Malien pointed in the direction of the opening.

Tiaan set the construct down.

A lyrinx was descending onto the rubble in the entrance. Another settled beside it, a third, and then many more, too quickly to count.

T
he beast was the size of a large dog, though lower to the ground, and all tooth, claw and spiky armour. Its head was massive, the maw surrounded with teeth and the crested head coated in rings of spines. The body was protected by segmented armour plates, spiny above and underneath. The tail was a knotted and spiked club. That was not the most frightening thing about it. Nor was the truly repulsive smell.

What scared Nish most was the lurking cunning, and the madness, in its eyes. It looked like a beast that lived to torment; to rend and devour. It could only be the nylatl Tiaan had mentioned. It must have tracked her down and he was to be a snack as it went by.

With those claws it could run up the tree as quickly as he could walk down a path. If he leapt to the ground, he would have a better chance with the sword, but that would leave Ullii defenceless. The creature would follow her scent upwards and devour her at its leisure. Nish imagined her terror, confronted by the beast. He could not give it the chance.

Here, on the lower branches, was a poor place to defend. The trunk was too big and the creature could come at him from behind, or even climb past him in a rush. He screwed a heavy green cone until it broke off. Thrusting the sword into his belt, Nish shifted the cone into his right hand and threw hard at the unblinking eyes. It went true, striking the nylatl on the ridges above and below its left eye. The creature yelped and scurried into the bushes.

The injury was minor, at best. The nylatl would be back in a minute. Nish scrambled up, hand over foot, faster than he had ever gone before. Five or six branches higher he missed a foothold, almost plunging all the way down again. After that he was more careful, but before he had climbed much further Nish knew that the monster was after him.

At a point where the trunk was no wider than his chest, and there was no way for the nylatl to get past, he prepared to defend. Here the branches stuck straight out from the trunk, as good a footing as he would find anywhere. The sword was not a long one, though its reach extended below his feet. Far enough to get in a good hack if the creature attacked that way, as it must.

It did not. Nish was searching the underlying branches, cursing himself for not having spent more time practising his swordsmanship when he had the chance, trying to stop his heart from bursting out through the wall of his chest – when he felt eyes on the back of his neck. The nylatl was staring at him from the branches of the neighbouring tree. It had crept up the far side of the trunk without making a sound.

The creature was about three spans away. It was a heavy beast. Could it leap that distance? It certainly seemed to think so. The muscles tensed in its back legs. Bracing himself against the trunk, Nish thrust out the sword, making a hissing whistle that came out ear-piercingly shrill.

The nylatl squealed and reared up on its hind legs, as if the sound had hurt it. Nish did it again. The creature’s mouth gaped and a rolled blue tongue extended, but it was not, as he thought, another distress signal. The tongue squirted something at his eyes.

Nish went backwards but not quickly enough; the spittle struck him on mouth and chin. The putrefying smell went up his nose and he threw up so violently that vomit projected out of his mouth and nostrils.

‘Aaargh!’ he gasped as the venom began to burn and blister. As he scrubbed at the venom with a sleeve, the skin peeled off. Nish could feel his lips swelling, bleeding.

The pain was excruciating. It felt as if his lips were splitting apart. He steadied himself, held out the sword and eyed the nylatl. It crouched, its back legs tensing and relaxing.

‘Haaahh!’ he screamed, waving his weapon.

The nylatl swayed backwards. It was just a slight movement but it gave Nish hope. The creature was uncertain how dangerous he was. Once it launched itself at him, it could do little to evade the point of his sword. It scrabbled up the trunk, watching him over its shoulder.

Sheathing the weapon, Nish climbed too. He could not allow the nylatl the advantage of height.

Once or twice it stopped, crouching and staring at him with those cunning eyes, but Nish waved his weapon, whistled or shrieked and did his best to look intimidating, and the nylatl kept on. In this way Nish reached the bottom of the balloon basket, where he realised his vulnerability. He would have to move out on the branch toward the creature, then climb the rope ladder with his back to it.

The nylatl went up another branch and stood watching him. Nish prayed that it would stay where it was. If it leapt into the basket, it could dine on Ullii at its leisure and attack him as he tried to climb over the rim.

Nish tapped on the bottom of the basket with his sword. ‘Ullii,’ he hissed.

She did not answer. He hoped she just had her earmuffs on, for if she had gone into one of her states he would never get her out of it.

‘Ullii!’

Still no answer. The nylatl raked its claws along the branch, tearing the hard bark into curling shreds. Its back legs tensed.

‘Ullii!’ he screamed, loud and shrill. He wasn’t pretending. ‘Help. It’s going to eat me.’

Again the nylatl reared back as if in pain. Above him, the lid of the basket creaked open. He could hear the seeker’s teeth chattering. Poor Ullii.

‘Nish?’ she whispered. ‘Where are you?’

‘Under the basket.’

‘I’m very frightened, Nish.’

‘I’m frightened too.’ Somehow he had to force her to act. A threat to her might not be enough, since her normal defence was to retreat into herself. Then he had it.

‘Ullii, look over the side.’ No answer. ‘It’s hurt me, Ullii, and now it’s going to
eat
me.’

She peered over, caught sight of his bloody, grotesquely swollen lips and let out a wail. ‘Nish, poor Nish!’

‘Ullii, can you see S’lound’s sword?’ S’lound, their guard from the balloon trip, had died in the landing at Tirthrax.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘It’s under his pack.’

‘Hold it out in front of you.’

He heard a rasp as the sword came from its scabbard.

‘That’s good. Now watch the beast while I climb up to you. Can you do that?’

‘I’m scared, Nish.’

‘It’s going to eat me, Ullii.’

Nish went out on the branch towards the dangling rope ladder. The nylatl rolled its tongue. He whistled and lunged forward, slashing with his sword. The creature went backwards, but not very far. Something flickered in its eyes. It wasn’t fear. It had worked him out.

Not daring to put the sword through his belt, Nish caught the ladder with one hand and tried to pull himself up. He slipped but managed to hook his arm through the rung. His back was to the nylatl now. Nish could feel the eyes on him. He was so terrified, he could almost see into the mind of the creature, feel its bliss as the talons raked down his back and the jaws went for his throat.

Heaving himself onto the next rung, he felt the sweat dripping from his armpits. Another rung. Only three to go. Two.

‘No!’ Ullii screamed. ‘Nish. Nish!’

The nylatl sprang. He saw it out of the corner of his eye. As Nish tried to swing around, one sweaty hand slipped on the rope. He snatched at the rung with his other hand and, horror of horrors, the sword slipped from his grasp. He tried to catch it with the toe of his boot but missed.

As he swung off the rope, the nylatl thumped into the side of the basket above his head. Its backside was right above him. Had he not lost his sword, he could have skewered it in one of the few places where it was vulnerable. He could not go up and dared not go down. Nish did the only thing left. He caught hold of one back paw, below the spines, and tried to tear the nylatl off the basket.

Futile hope. Nothing could relax those mighty claws. It kicked backwards, luckily at an awkward angle, or the claws would have torn his arm off at the elbow. As it was, they opened him up from wrist to the inside of his upper arm. Nish cried out; he could not help himself.

‘Nish!’ Ullii wailed. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No,’ he groaned, grasping the paw again. A spine pricked into his wrist but he dared not let go. All the nylatl had to do was spin around on the basket, lunge and bite his face off. There was nowhere for him to go.

Then, a sight that brought tears to his eyes, little Ullii was up on the edge of the basket in her bare feet, balancing like a tightrope walker. She had the long sword in both hands. She looked down, saw the gore all over him and let out a bloodthirsty cry of rage.