Fifty-five

Tiaan headed up along the ridge and, with every step, the blockage in her chest seemed to grow. What if the lyrinx called down their fliers? What if the enemy had already found the thapter?

By the time she reached its hiding place, the clot had grown to half the size of her chest and fire was radiating from the point where she had broken her back. She clung to a tree, panting. She could not see the thapter anywhere.

She tried to remain calm. It was under a concealment, even from her. Malien had forgotten this, in the excitement at discovering Gilhaelith. It wasn't like her, and Tiaan's uneasiness grew. What if she couldn't find it?

She moved back towards the cliff, sweeping her head from side to side. Near the edge, from the very corner of her eye, a blocky shape appeared and disappeared between the trees, where there had been no shape previously. It was there.

She patted it with outstretched hands. It even felt like rock but, as Tiaan concentrated, the gritty surface smoothed out under her fingers. She went up the side in a rush, inserted the crystal in its socket and closed the hatch. Only then did she feel safe.

Bringing the thapter up to just below the tops of the trees, she wove her way between them, heading upslope of the exposed point where Gilhaelith had been, towards the terraces. It took a lot of concentration, and it was hard to be sure she was in the right place.

Tiaan circled for half an hour, feeling increasingly anxious about the mist, which might prevent Malien from seeing her;

the delay, and how well the concealment was holding. If Malien was signalling, how could she tell?

As the thapter eased up the terrace again, the screen began to fog over and Tiaan had to flip the hatch open to see. Strands of drifting mist swirled about her. She went higher but that made it worse. Holding her spyglass in one hand, she curved downhill again.

Edging the thapter over an outcrop of black rock furred with brilliantly green moss, she spotted a group of raggedly dressed people in the clearing, waving madly. The concealment must have parted. She turned away, hoping distance would renew it. There were violent movements in the undergrowth, then one of the slaves staggered out onto the rocks, bleeding from the belly. The attack had started, but where was the signal?

Tiaan made a tight circle, wondering what to do. Mist swept up the ridge, concealing everything, and when it broke some minutes later she saw Malien confronting a huge dark lyrinx. Neither looked up; the concealment had re-formed. Tiaan took the thapter sideways. Several bodies lay on the other side of the clearing, red and broken. She could not tell if they were Aachim, slaves or Gilhaelith. She went lower, turning in mid-air but not knowing what to do. She dared not land until she saw him.

And there he was, staggering across the rocks with two human slaves clinging to his arms. That didn't make sense either, though it was clear Malien's attack had failed. If she didn't do something, both Malien and Gilhaelith would be lost.

Tiaan sideslipped towards the point. The great lyrinx looked around, hearing the noise but unable to hold Malien and break the concealment at the same time. As Tiaan touched down, the lyrinx hurled Malien into the rocks, spun on the sole of one foot, its crest shimmering iridescently in the misty gloom, and raised its fist.

The thapter sang like a bundle of taut wires. Everyone on the ridge spun around, staring as it materialised in mid-air.

The creature raised its right arm and lyrinx burst out of the rocks, not stone-formed but camouflaged so perfectly there had been no trace of them. Tiaan's intuition had been right -it was a trap and it had already closed on Forgre. She recognised his broken body near the edge of the cliff.

She couldn't see Talis but Malien was on her feet, swaying as she worked her fingers in the air. The two slaves fell down. Gilhaelith tore the cords from around his wrists and raced for the trees.

'Gilhaelith!' Tiaan screamed. 'This way!'

His head whipped around. 'Tiaan?'

He took one step towards her, puzzled but not looking pleased. She was wondering why when a flying lyrinx swooped out of the mist, clamped its claws into his ribs and lifted him bodily.

Gilhaelith thrashed and it almost fell out of the air. Darting its open jaws at him, it gripped him around the top of the head until its teeth broke the skin. Tiaan was so close she could see the spots of blood. He went still and it pulled him in under the trees, out of sight, labouring under his weight.

Malien's attacker now rushed Tiaan, its spread wings darkening the sky. Its armour was as black as coal, its mighty crest a luminous gold. Many other lyrinx followed. They'd been after her, and the thapter, all along. The intelligence that Gilhaelith was at Alcifer must have been planted to lure her here, but it had been Malien who had taken the bait.

Tiaan slammed the hatch, twisting the lock as the first creature thudded onto the roof. Its claws tore at the metal but could find no grip, the seams were too perfect. Another lyrinx leapt onto the thapter, then half a dozen more, until the roof creaked under their weight. Between them she saw the black mancer-lyrinx, carrying a great bar with which to prise the hatch open. They could not use their Art, for the thapter was proof against it, but nothing could protect her from sheer physical force.

A glittering, luminous bubble burst against the black lyrinx's back but he shrugged it off. He did not turn to attack Malien, whose magic it was, nor even to defend himself. It was an expression of contempt: you can't harm me. Icy sweat oozed down Tiaan's back. The trap was closing fast. Forgre was dead, probably Talis as well. Gilhaelith had been removed. Now Malien fought alone against dozens of opponents, and surely could not last.

Running away was not a temptation — Tiaan wasn't going down that road again. The thumping against the shell of the thapter was deafening, and now it went dark inside as they covered the screen. She pulled up on the yoke, thinking to turn upside down and shake them off. The thapter vibrated so hard that her bones rattled, but did not lift; the weight of dozens of lyrinx was too much for it.

Tiaan tried to spin it on the spot but that didn't work either — the lyrinx must have linked arms with those on the ground, who dug in their claws and held it. She could not break their grip.

Cutting off the field, she sat back, panting. There had to be a way. The darkness broke as a small triangle of screen was cleared. A face appeared — the mancer-lyrinx. His anthracite skin glittered as if it had been sprinkled with diamond dust; the golden crest pulsed dark and bright. Power shimmered all around him like heat haze rising from a saltpan.

He thrust his toothy head towards the screen, seeking her out. Tiaan kept away from the light, for he smouldered enough to burn her, and if his gaze locked on hers he might be able to command her to his will.

Tiaan could feel the command building. Come into the light, where I can see you. Come. Come'.

Her hand shook. She wanted to go to him, to look into his eyes. It felt like the right thing to do. He wasn't her enemy. He would make it right for her.

What was she thinking? Tiaan moved back smartly, whacking her head on the back of the compartment. There had to be a way — she was a geomancer after all — and a brilliant one, according to Gilhaelith.

She'd not done any geomancy in ages. Since gaining the thapter, Tiaan had used its speed, its strength, and simply run away from her troubles. The great talents she'd begun to nurture had been neglected.

The golden-crested lyrinx jammed his bar into the join between the hatch and the shell of the thapter, and heaved, Metal screamed. If she was to save Malien, there was no time to lose.

Tiaan popped out the amplimet. Gripping it hard, she scanned the earth below the ridge, though not seeking power. She kept well away from the throbbing Alcifer node-within-a-node, which was far beyond her comprehension. She was looking for a way to use her fledgling geomancy; an attack they would never suspect.

She sensed many things — the aeons-slow creep of rocks under strain, the imperceptible rise of magma pools far below, the crackling of ancient lava fields surrounding the dormant volcano to the north. None were useful to her, nor the tension on a great faultline that curved beneath Alcifer. That held power beyond anyone's capacity to bear.

Metal squealed above her, as if the hatch were coming off. Ah, there was something! Seeping heat from the quiescent volcano had created the fuming, seething terraces above her, with their lines of hot springs and mud pools. She traced the paths of superheated fluid through the rocks nearby, seeking a weakness she could exploit to blast steam at the lyrinx, or create a minor landslide that might cause them to draw back panic. She didn't need much.

The bar ground at the join of the hatch again and again, the shrill squeal tearing at her nerves. The black lyrinx's teeth were bared as it strained. There were so many paths of heat flowing through cracks and fissures; so many places where the superheated ground water was held tight. If she could find a weakness, and assist the rocks to give way there, the water must burst forth.

She found one but it was too far away. Another lay just above the ridge — too close and too powerful to take the risk.

A third pool had a fissure above it, sealed tight by crystallised salt, and it looked just right.

Tiaan explored its aura and field, seeking to know it, as she must. The fissure had been open many times in the past, making a spectacular geyser for weeks or months before the vent become blocked again.

Just a little extra pressure and the crystallised salt would crack like toffee. Tiaan put her fingers in her ears to block out the rasp of metal against metal as she hunted for a way that was within her capacity. She did not have the power to make the earth move. She had to use what was there, and fortunately the system was so delicately balanced that a small change could upset it.

She changed the field to direct a surge of heat into that lower chamber. The superheated water roiled, burst through a flimsy barrier and forced its way up. The lines of force changed colour; the salt plug cracked and was blasted away as the water forced its way up into a terrace filled with mud.

As the pressure was relieved, the water turned instantly to steam, boiling the mud and blasting a brown geyser upwards with a shriek that had the great lyrinx clapping his hands over his ears. He fell backwards, allowing Tiaan to see what she had done.

A circular wave of mud roared out from around the geyser, overtopping the banks that made a dam of the terrace, then tearing channels through them. A deluge of boiling mud began to pour over the slope above them like jam from the lip of a cooking pot.

The lyrinx hurled themselves out of the way, diving off the edges of the ridge and over the cliffs. Only the mancer-lyrinx held to his purpose, slamming his bar into the angle of the hatch yet again. He darted a glance over his shoulder, gave another prise that made metal squeal, then gave up the fight and lifted straight up in the air. The steam burst caught him, whirling him about then over the edge and out of sight.

Tiaan, limp-kneed and dripping perspiration, jerked up on the flight yoke. Nothing happened, for she still held the amplimet in her hand. It took some time to realise what the problem was. She banged it into its cavity, waited a second till it settled and jerked again.

The thapter shot into the air, buffeted by the steam blast as the wave of mud swept diagonally across the ridge, carrying trees, bushes and three unfortunate lyrinx with it, before pouring in a brown curtain over the cliff to her left. She'd overdone it yet again.

She hovered while it passed, looking for survivors. There was no sign of Malien and two-thirds of the ridge was covered in waist-deep sludge. The bodies of the fallen slaves, as well as Forgre, had been swept away. Five slaves cowered near the untouched end of the ridge, their faces scarlet from the steam.

Had she killed Gilhaelith? The lyrinx had taken him up the ridge into the forest, but that patch of trees had been swept away by the mudslide. She curved around the clifftops, just in case he'd got away. Yes, there he was. The lyrinx was just below the top of the cliff, still carrying him. Gilhaelith wasn't struggling. Surely he didn't want to go with it?

She turned towards them. The lyrinx caught an updraught and began to flap off, barely keeping Gilhaelith's weight in the air. As it passed below the point, heading for distant Alcifer, one of the slaves let out a furious cry of betrayal and hurled a rock, cracking it on the back of the skull. Its wing-beats faltered and it dropped sharply. Now, Tiaan thought.

She went round, passing close to the labouring beast to prevent it from getting away until she could think how to wrest Gilhaelith from it safely. Tiaan's brain fizzed from the power it was using.

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.'