EIGHTY

Malien came running up, then stopped beside Tiaan, staring at the geomancer. She shook her head and drew Tiaan aside. ‘There’s nothing we can do to save him unless you’re game to snatch up the amplimet and toss it into the red-hot compartment. I’m not.’

Tiaan was remembering Ghaenis’s hideous death by anthracism. ‘Attacking the amplimet would be suicide.’

‘I know.’ Malien squatted down and put her head in her hands. ‘I should do it anyway, for the good of the world, but …’

‘I’m not brave enough either,’ said Tiaan after a long pause, for an idea was slowly coming into focus. ‘But I wonder if there’s another way.’

‘What other way?’

‘Help me!’ Gilhaelith reached out to Tiaan. The crystallisation had run up his fingers, across his hands and was now extending up his arms. His feet and lower legs had gone too, and his eyes had the most peculiar, faceted glitter.

‘I can’t,’ she said, turning away. She couldn’t bear to watch what was happening to him, and do nothing.

‘Which way, Tiaan?’ said Malien.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,’ she said quietly. ‘How no one can be trusted with the power to control the nodes. Especially not Jal-Nish.’

‘There’s nothing can be done to stop him,’ said Malien.

‘I think there might be.’

‘Oh?’ Malien said with a sharp intake of breath.

Tiaan’s eyes were drawn back to Gilhaelith, whose brittle hands were still moving over the globe, though very slowly and mechanically now. The threads of light would soon link all the controlling nodes. Four of them were connected already, and fainter threads had begun to extend from them to other, less powerful nodes. ‘I think I know how to close down all the nodes for good, and Jal-Nish’s tears with them.’

Malien’s head jerked around. ‘We talked about that once before, Tiaan.’

It would spell the end of the Secret Art, at least the way humanity had been using it since the great Nunar codified the laws of mancing. There would be no more thapters, air-floaters, constructs or farspeakers. No field-powered Arts or devices of any kind, save those that had been laboriously charged up in the ways known to the ancients. And maybe not them either.

‘You’re … not going to do anything, are you?’ croaked Gilhaelith.

‘I’m sorry, Gilhaelith,’ Tiaan said, and she was, for she did care for him. Tears pricked at the insides of her eyelids, as if crystals were forming there in mimicry of his transformation. She had to let him die. If she saved him, her friends would all be slain. ‘I can’t.’

He began to curse her, bitterly and unrelentingly, in a voice that sounded like someone walking over broken glass. Then Gilhaelith broke off in mid-word, his face twisted in agony.

‘It did this to me,’ he whispered. ‘It planned it all long ago, and I was too stupid to see it.’

‘What did?’ she said.

‘Way back in Snizort, when I was trapped in the tar, I heard a whisper in my head telling me to create a phantom crystal and use it to save myself. I did so, but its fragments have been there ever since and no matter what I did I couldn’t get rid of them – it wouldn’t let them go. They just lay there, burning me whenever I used power, and doing more damage. But as soon as I brought the globe down here, the fragments came together in my mind and they were just like a model of the amplimet, linking it to the real one. I couldn’t resist it. I tried, Tiaan, I really did, but it was too strong.’

He was cut off by another agonised spasm. The crystallisation must be reaching his vital organs. And, from the corner of her inner eye, Tiaan could see filaments beginning to extend out of the geomantic globe, into the ethyr. The amplimet was using the globe to mimic the real nodes and the links between them. Once it had done that, it would be too late to stop it.

And she had to stop it, but if she just smashed the amplimet, or hurled it into the red-hot compartment, she would have lost the opportunity to do anything for her friends, or to stop Jal-Nish. Tiaan was determined to do both, even at the cost of all the nodes. Gilhaelith’s folly only reinforced her determination that such unfettered power could not be allowed to exist.

Her plan was desperately dangerous. In all likelihood, she would die even more horribly than Gilhaelith.

Just do it! She dived, snatched the amplimet from between Gilhaelith’s feet and held it high. It was pulsing even more slowly now, and the blood-red light glowed right through her hand, picking out the pale and fragile bones.

‘Don’t take the risk, Tiaan!’ shouted Malien. ‘Throw it into the heat under the thapter.’

If she tried that now, she would die. Tiaan stepped back a couple of paces and fixed on the geomantic globe, seeing its perfection in her mind and forming the sequence of links between its controlling nodes into a vast mental network. Now for the most desperate step of all – she had to act as if she were supporting the amplimet, doing what it wanted. To oppose it would be to suffer instant anthracism.

She drew power. Though there had been none just minutes ago, it was effortless now. Tiaan directed it into the controlling nodes, as if to reinforce what the amplimet had been doing. She sent power around and around that network, amplifying it at every turn, and pumping more and more power in. The nodes glowed brighter and brighter until she could no longer look at them. They were pulsing in time with the beat of the amplimet, and now the whole geomantic globe began to throb. Threads of mist rose from its northern pole.

This was it, the point of no turning back. If she succeeded, and survived, the aftermath would rob her of all that made her special – indeed, unique. Her inner talents, that had sustained her all her life, would be useless. Could she bear that?

Tiaan hesitated. In the background she could hear the crackling as crystallisation proceeded up Gilhaelith’s thighs and in across his shoulders. To the left she could see Malien’s frozen face. Malien could lose her great Arts too. All the world might. Was it worth it?

Tiaan didn’t know. She couldn’t think.

‘Use the globe, Tiaan.’ Gilhaelith’s voice was a screeching crackle. ‘You can reverse the crystallisation.’

But she didn’t know how. The controlling nodes were linked on the globe now. Soon the controlling nodes of Santhenar would also be linked to it, an endless source of power for good or evil. What would Gilhaelith do with it, if she saved him? What would Jal-Nish do, if she didn’t stop him? What would the amplimet do if it gained what it had been searching for so long?

‘We can fight it,’ crackled Gilhaelith. ‘We’re stronger.’

‘It means more war,’ said Tiaan. ‘More destruction, death and ruin. I won’t have it.’

‘Noooo …’ Gilhaelith said, in a hissing whisper that faded to nothing, for his lungs had crystallised and he could no longer breathe.

‘Don’t, Tiaan,’ said Malien. ‘You’ll only make things worse.’

‘How can they be worse!’ Tiaan cried, and as Malien tried to stop her, she sent an overwhelming surge of power into the controlling nodes, which emitted a burst of light so bright that it burned her skin. Gilhaelith jerked spastically and the crystallisation slowly proceeded up his torso to his throat.

Suddenly it grew dark and cold, as if something had blocked out the sun. All around her the loops and whorls of the field flared to visibility and the sky was lit up by vast green and yellow auroras. The ground shook so hard that the thapter toppled onto its side, exposing the still-glowing cavity beneath. Tiaan might have tossed the amplimet into it, but that was even more dangerous now.

Malien threw herself at Tiaan and tried to tear the crystal out of her hand. Fighting her off, Tiaan staggered around to the other side of the geomantic globe. Gilhaelith laboriously extended a crystalline arm towards her but it was easy to evade his reach.

Tiaan knocked over the green nickel bowl and the globe rolled out, still spinning on its freezing mist on the short grass. She saw the horror in his eyes and averted her own. It had to be done.

The globe was icy and its cold burned her from here. She pumped more power into the controlling nodes, as much as she could draw. She could feel the amplimet’s triumph as she slipped it into her pocket.

Tiaan picked up the globe and lifted it above her head. It was incredibly heavy. She staggered under its weight.

‘Noooooo!’ Gilhaelith’s wail seemed to have been formed outside his throat, and then the disembodied voice began to curse her again.

Tiaan held the globe up for a moment, feeling her knees wobble, and hurled it down the hill. It resisted as if it didn’t want to leave her, then nearly took her with it, for her hands had stuck to the thick, frigid glass. Tiaan overbalanced and the globe pulled free, tearing skin off her fingers and palms. It landed a few spans away, unharmed on the springy grass, and began to roll down the slope.

The sky blackened to the colour of midnight, the hillside lit only by the shimmering auroras and the fading glow from the underside of the thapter. Rays extended out from the controlling nodes in all directions. One struck through her pocket, charring the cloth, and the amplimet fell out. She scooped it up in her bleeding hand as the fields went wild. The ground shook harder; the auroras flared so brilliantly that for a moment it became as bright as day.

The geomantic globe gathered speed down the long slope. Tiaan watched it go. The task was nearly done. She felt very weak now. If she could just hold out another minute.

And then, and it was like a fist closing around her heart, Merryl appeared from behind one of the boulders down at the creek, right in the path of the globe. She wanted to scream at him to run, but her tongue felt as though it had frozen to the roof of her mouth.

He saw it coming. He didn’t run or panic, but calmly walked the other way. Then Malien threw herself at Tiaan and tried to tear the amplimet out of her hand. Tiaan fought off the old woman, pushed her down and stumbled away. She couldn’t see Merryl now. Dare she attempt it, with him so close? She had to – it was all, or nothing.

Gilhaelith’s eyes lit up as they crystallised last of all and behind the facets she saw bliss, ecstasy. There was no time to wonder about it, though for a moment she wavered. She could feel his joy; could even share in it, for they were not so different, after all. Could she put out the light in those faceted eyes?

She had to. The geomantic globe hurtled up a small bank and bounced high in the air, heading towards the largest boulder in the creek bed. All of a sudden the amplimet lit up so brightly that it burned her fingers. It fell onto the grass, which began to smoke.

It knew!

Her brain began to heat up from the inside and a hot shaft of fire shot down her spine. As the globe fell towards the boulder, Tiaan scooped up the crystal in the nickel bowl and staggered towards the thapter. At the moment the globe impacted and smashed to smithereens, the amplimet glowed like a miniature sun.

The metal bowl was burning her but she couldn’t give in now. She held on, smoke rising from her fingers, just long enough to toss the amplimet into the cavity under the thapter. Tiaan threw herself out of the way, rolling down the hill. Rays streaked across the sky. The boulder exploded, the auroras went wild and the ground shook again. The mechanism of the thapter screamed as if power had been poured directly into it, then faded to nothing.

The fire in her head and down her spine ebbed away, leaving a dull, burning ache. The glow of the amplimet simply went out. The auroras danced for a moment, but disappeared as the sun shone again. There was complete and utter silence.

Tiaan felt a terrible wrench as the amplimet died, and then the most agonising sense of withdrawal and loss. It was gone, and soon her inner abilities would be lost forever.

She rolled over and lifted her head with an effort, to stare down the hill. It was covered in wreaths of smoke and pieces of shattered rock and glass, but to her joy she saw Merryl running up, a long way to the left. The relief was so great that she allowed her head to flop back to the ground. Had she done what she’d intended, or not? All that power, forced around and around the links and amplified at every node, had to go somewhere.

Nothing happened. Malien stood about ten paces away, staring into the distance. Merryl had slowed to a trot.

An incandescent jet shot into the air from beyond a range of hills, followed by a billowing cloud of dust and smoke. The ground gave a gentle quiver, then another. The first node had exploded. The thunder took longer to arrive. And then, distantly, the other nodes began to go off, one by one. As each did, the force would spread to the others, and it would not stop until every node in the world was gone.

‘It’s done,’ she said. The explosions would not create more tears, for the force was not contained but spread from one node to another. ‘No one has proven worthy of such power, so no one may have it.’

Malien stormed across and stood directly above her. ‘Do you realise what you’ve done?’ she raged. ‘How dare you take it upon yourself to play God!’

‘I know what I’ve lost, and every day of my life I’ll rue it. But what choice did I have?’

‘You might have put your trust in humanity,’ said Malien.

‘They’re not worthy of it.’

‘Not even me?’

Tiaan had no answer. ‘Well, it’s done.’

‘And never to be undone,’ said Malien. ‘You’re a fool, Tiaan, and well may you rue it. Evil comes from the hearts of men and women, not the power of the fields.’

‘Such power allowed them to do far greater evil.’

‘And greater good, too. The balance is maintained in the end.’

Was it? Tiaan no longer felt confident about anything. What if she had been terribly wrong? ‘Well, at least I’ve ended Jal-Nish’s brief reign, and saved our friends. What can he do to them now?’

Tiaan was squeezing her bloody, singed, throbbing palms together when something crackled behind them. She turned wearily. Gilhaelith, crystallised even to his frizzy hair, seemed to be smiling. At least she’d done one thing right. In a glorious irony, as the amplimet took over his damaged faculties, Gilhaelith had finally understood. The great game was over – he’d fulfilled his life’s purpose and died in an ecstasy of bliss. His life had been pure numbers, and in the end he’d discovered that they were beautiful numbers.

Farewell, Gilhaelith, she thought. I’m glad for you.

She watched Merryl coming up the hill, just walking, now that he could see she was unhurt. Another thing she’d done right.

‘I suppose we’d better head for home,’ said Tiaan. ‘It’s going to be a long, long march. Will you — will you walk with me a little of the way, Malien?’

‘My way and yours are sundered, Tiaan,’ Malien snapped, and stalked off down the hill. But after thirty or forty paces she slowed, stopped, and turned around, staring at Tiaan; then she came trudging back.

‘We’ve been great friends and companions, this past year and three-quarters, and I would not have us part in such a way.’ Malien held out her hand, took one look at Tiaan’s bloody palms and opened her arms instead. ‘It falls to few people to change the world, but you’re one of them. And who am I to say that you haven’t done the right thing? Farewell, Tiaan. The times have certainly been eventful since we met. I’m glad we did.’

Tiaan embraced her. ‘And so am I. Thank you, Malien. You’ve done so much for me. Are you sure we can’t walk a little way together?’

Malien shook her head. ‘You’re heading south to the sea, while I’m going back to Ashmode to find Clan Elienor’s soldiers. But you’ll have Merryl with you – the best of company.’

He joined them and Malien shook his hand. ‘If we never meet again, live well. Farewell, Tiaan. Farewell, Merryl.’

‘Farewell,’ they echoed, ‘wherever you roam.’

They gathered their gear from the thapter and Tiaan turned towards the south and the Sea of Thurkad, with her father. She regretted, for a moment, that she would probably not see Nish or Irisis, nor any of the others, again. But all things must pass, and that phase of her life was over.

Malien watched her go, collected her possessions, then began her own weary journey east to Ashmode. She felt closer to Clan Elienor now than she did to her own people, who had exiled her from Stassor. Clan Elienor would not go to Faranda with the rest of the Aachan Aachim, for they were exiles too. She planned to offer them a home at Shazmak, in the mountains behind Bannador, across the Sea of Thurkad in Meldorin. It would take a lot of work to restore Shazmak to the grandeur and the glory it had possessed in ancient times, especially without the Art to assist them, but her people had never been afraid of hard work.

And besides, her beloved son Rael had died at Shazmak and she’d not been back since the time of the Forbidding. It would be like going home.

What would have happened, she wondered, had the crystal succeeded in gaining control of the nodes of Santhenar? Would it have turned the world into a volcanic hell like Aachan? Or used it to extend its reach to other worlds, and perhaps, after infinite time, even to the stars themselves? No one would ever know. Only one person had ever achieved the mastery of geomancy to have a hope of understanding the amplimet’s purpose, and he was no more.

Well, it was over. Malien shrugged her bag over her shoulder, adjusted her hat and set out in the direction of Ashmode. She felt as though a great weight had left her shoulders. Perhaps Tiaan had done the right thing after all.

As Tiaan trudged up the road beside Merryl, she wondered where it had all gone wrong. How could her youthful dreams have all come to nothing? Had she made the wrong choices, or was she incapable of the right ones? Or had it just been luck, or fate? Had her life, in a sense, been doomed from the beginning?

Would it have been better if she’d never lived at all? Would her ghosts, especially Minis, haunt her forever? She felt very low. She’d made bad choices for good reasons, Tiaan knew, and she couldn’t forgive herself for what had come from them. She’d tried to do what was good and right and decent, and over and again it had gone terribly wrong. Yet Irisis, who seldom agonised over her choices, had ended up ennobling herself.

Perhaps it’s because, in the end, I’m always thinking of myself, Tiaan thought. I could never be as selfless as Irisis, who gives simply because that is her nature, with no expectation of return. I’ve become afraid to give, and afraid to share myself.

‘What am I going to do, Merryl?’ she cried. ‘I’ve failed at everything I’ve done, and now I’ve got nothing left.’

‘But you found me and saved me,’ he said gently. ‘I’ll always love you, and even when we’re apart we’ll always have each other.’

She didn’t answer straight away, just plodded on, head down, watching the dust rise with every step.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I become so obsessed by what I’ve lost, and how I’ve failed, that I can’t see what I’ve gained. What are you going to do now?’

‘I’m going home to Tiksi, to find Marnie.’

‘After what she did to you?’ Tiaan said, a little sharply, before she remembered that she was talking to her father. ‘Sorry.’

‘In my years as a slave I learned to forgive all sorts of things. It was the one part of my life I had control over. I’ve even forgiven the lyrinx who enslaved me and ate my hand, and I’m all the better for it. Hate is corrosive, Tiaan. It’s far better to forgive, once you can, and get on with life and living.’

‘I’ve always found it hard to forgive my enemies,’ said Tiaan. ‘But surely you can’t believe that you and Marnie could ever live together? She’s my mother and I love her, but she’s the most thoughtless, vain and selfish woman who ever lived.’

‘I don’t expect it to go well,’ he said mildly. ‘I learned long ago that expecting things out of life is the road to misery. But I can still hope for it.’

‘Why would you want to?’

‘She was my first and only love and, after I got over my fury, the thought of her sustained me through all the years of slavery. As well as the thought of you, Tiaan – the beautiful child we made together.’ He kicked a pebble off the path, watching thoughtfully as it rustled through the dry grass. ‘And then, look at Marnie’s children – all living, healthy, clever and hardworking, so there must be more to her than you think. And maybe, just maybe, after the hard times she’s endured since the breeding factory was destroyed, she’s changed.’

‘Maybe,’ Tiaan said dubiously. ‘But I think you’ll have rather a lot of forgiving to do.’

‘I’m prepared to forgive her every day of my life. So, shall we go looking for Marnie?’

‘Yes,’ said Tiaan. ‘Let’s put the past behind us.’ Her eyes were shining. She lifted her chin and looked east and south, to where Tiksi lay beyond sea and plains and mountains. It would be a long and perilous journey but every step would be a step closer to home. ‘A new start.’

‘For all of us,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘And for you most of all, my precious daughter.’