Jibstorn was a grim, grey place, a town of smoking chimneys and grimy walls, where the waste of ten thousand humans and five times as many animals flowed down a ditch in the centre of the street. In the five-month winter, which was already on the doorstep, the noisome effluent froze in the drains, diverting fresh muck all across the road.
'I'll just put on a disguise,' said Muss as Inouye set the air-floater down at the waterfront, scattering a noisy flock of seagulls and a gaggle of red-nosed, staring children. 'You can never be too careful.'
He slipped into the cabin and closed the door. Irisis, who'd always been curious as to how he did it, went around the other side where there was a small tear in the canvas. She put her eye to it, feeling like a voyeur.
She caught just a blur of movement. Muss did not change his clothes or make up his face – he simply morphed, clothes and all, from the old shape to the new. His garments changed at the same time. She turned away in case he realised she was there. Muss wasn't a lowly prober at all -he had to be a morphmancer and didn't want anyone to know it. And clearly he was a master of the Art who didn't suffer any appreciable aftersickness. She wondered if Flydd knew.
Muss came out dressed as a rustic trader, a red-faced, bald-headed man with spindly legs and a sagging belly. The change was masterly – she could even smell the sourness of stale beer on his breath. She did not meet his eye. Irisis was afraid to, in case she gave herself away.
Fyn-Mah went with Muss to find his contact and buy the quicksilver. Irisis and Flangers bought supplies in the markets. Jibstorn turned out to be a putrescent, sour town where the scrutators held no sway. The people were unfriendly and the merchants out-and-out thieves.
'At least the quality's good,' said Irisis, eyeing a haunch of venison. After a fortnight on bean-and-onion stew she could have eaten it raw.
'It'd want to be, at these prices!'
Irisis fingered silver out of her wallet. 'It's the scrutator's coin, not mine, and if he were here he'd have the best.'
They bought supplies for a fortnight and, by the time all had been delivered to the air-floater, Fyn-Mah and Muss were back. Fyn-Mah was smiling, a rare sight.
Inside the air-floater, she cleaned her bowl and filled it with quicksilver. The surface made a perfect mirror and the crystal sat neatly on top of it. As she drew power, the crystal rotated smoothly until it was pointing back the way they had come. She tapped the side of the bowl. The mirror shivered but the crystal did not budge.
'That's better.' Fyn-Mah checked the direction against the lodestone in its case and made a mark on her chart. 'Tell Inouye to go with all speed; we're a long way behind.'
And maybe too late already, Irisis thought.
The return trip proved to be a slow one. They flew into a headwind all the way and sometimes it seemed to be blowing them backwards. By nightfall they weren't even halfway.
Irisis began to pace the sagging canvas deck; she couldn't help it. There was a knot under her breastbone. After giving both friends up for dead, and having Flydd, at least, miraculously reappear, her emotions had been wrung dry. The scrutators' fleet must have reached the main group of islands this morning. They could have searched dozens by now. Could have found them. What would Ghorr do to Flydd? She didn't think he would be executed on the spot, for the scrutators liked to make public examples. He would be taken back to Gospett, or some other suitably large centre, for trial and punishment. And once in their hands there would be no escape; no way to rescue him, either. Nor Nish, if he'd survived.
She went into the cabin. Fyn-Mah stood by the window hole, an aperture normally covered by a piece of canvas, watching the crystal. Fumes of quicksilver were deadly in a confined space, so everyone had to sleep outside in the bitter wind. Any change?' said Irisis. 'No.' 'What if they've already been taken? Is there any way to tell?'
'No.'
'So by following the crystal, we could be heading into a trap.'
'Yes.'
Irisis tried to meet her eyes but Fyn-Mah looked away. She was in one of her moods and nothing would be gained by talking to her. Irisis went to her sleeping pouch, in a hammock strung on the port deck, and swayed there all night. Every movement swung her out over the rail. If the rope broke she would go flying over the side to her death. Her feet were freezing and sleep would not come. Further back, Flangers tossed in his hammock, no more at peace than she was. On the starboard side, Muss was snoring gently. Nothing affected his repose.
The sun rose to reveal the same bleak sky and slaty, misty sea. To their left, the narrow peninsula of Karints stretched into the unfathomable distance. Ahead were hundreds of islands and thousands of reefs, the bane of many a mariner. Irisis stamped her feet in a vain attempt to get warm.
'Hoy!' shouted Fyn-Mah. 'You're shaking the bowl.'
Irisis took up the perquisitor's spyglass and scanned the horizon.
'Anything?' Flangers appeared beside her, rubbing blue fingers.
'No' 'Cup of hot ginger tea?'
'Thanks,' she said. That'd be lovely.'
They warmed their fingers on the wooden bowls, feeling no need to talk. It was not until the middle of the day that she saw the first sail, dead ahead.
'That's a bad sign,' said Muss. 'Either the scrutators are heading directly for him, or…'
'Or they already have him,' Fyn-Mah finished bleakly. 'If we hadn't spent a day and a half getting the quicksilver -'
'We might still be looking,' said Flangers.
In half an hour Ghorr's fleet was spread out across a great arc of sea. The air-floater, following the crystal, was still heading directly towards the first ship.
'What's ahead?' asked Fyn-Mah.
'A scatter of islands, in that bank of mist,' Irisis replied without consulting the map.
'The ship's going to get there first. Pilot!' she shouted. 'Can't you go any faster?'
Inouye did not answer, though the sound of the rotor rose slightly. It didn't seem to make any difference.
'The headwind's too strong,' said Irisis. 'The harder we go the more it resists us.'
'Go lower,' said Muss. 'The wind won't be as strong near the sea.'
They angled down. The sails disappeared back over the horizon and the race continued. The mist clung about a handful of low, round islands, scattered like potatoes hurled from a bucket. There were about twenty of them, most just uninhabitable wet brown rock.
'How long has it been since the shipwreck?' asked Fyn-Mah.
'Nine days.'
Fyn-Mah shivered. 'I wouldn't last two days down there. I'm going back to the watch bowl. Keep an eye out for smoke.'
'They'd have the fire out now,' said Irisis. 'If they had one.'
'From sea level they wouldn't be able to see the fleet.'
'But they could see us,' said Irisis. 'We're still not going fast enough.'
Go right down,' the perquisitor said to Inouye. 'Just skim the waves.'
Inouye turned her head, and her eyes seemed to take up half her small face. 'If a gust drops us into the water, it'll tear the cabin off.'
'As low as is safe.' Fyn-Mah went back to the scrying basin.
Irisis followed her into the cabin. 'Can you tell which island it is?'
'No.'
Irisis couldn't stand the inactivity. She went back and stood next to the pilot. They did seem to be making more headway this altitude. Shortly Flangers appeared, relaying a minute change of course. Inouye moved the steering arm slightly and checked the heading against her lodestone.
'Which island are we heading for?' Irisis asked. This low, they could see nothing but mist.
A group of three in a line,' Inouye said softly, ducking her head to avoid Irisis's eye. She moved to her left, opening the space between them.
What was it about the little pilot? She was agonisingly shy and kept everyone at a distance. And doubtless she's afraid of me, Irisis decided. I've got powerful friends; I can choose. She has to do what she's told. It's taken her away from friends, family, man and children, and she'll probably never see them again. They may have been killed simply because Inouye had obeyed Fyn-Mah's orders, and she could do nothing about it.