By this time the sea had come up and waves were breaking over the platform, foaming all the way across and swinging the keel on its mooring ropes. The wind had risen, jerking the airbag this way and that. It took a long time before the air-floater began to lift; when it did, it reached a height of a few hundred spans and would rise no higher.
They crept north-west, crossing the southern coast of Meldorin after noon the following day. She'd expected to see lyrinx everywhere but, apart from a sea eagle wheeling in the distance, the sky was empty. Some way off to their left she saw a town or port, abandoned long ago, with trees growing in the middle of the streets. They crept on. Directly ahead, a range of mountains towered above them. The air-floater would never rise that high.
'Go east around it,' said Flydd, who had a rolled map in one hand.
'We've got to set down,' Irisis said, rubbing her swollen eyes. 'I can't go any longer without sleep.'
'I'm not keen on stopping just here. I believe there's a lyrinx town not far away.'
'There'll be no light tonight.' Irisis cocked an eye at the dense overcast. 'It'll be just as dangerous floating in the dark, if we can't get higher than this.'
'We'll have to take that risk. Keep going as long as you can.'
It was completely dark before they had passed by the eastern end of the range and turned back onto their north-westerly tack.
'What's ahead of us?' said Irisis.
'Grassland, then forest, swamp, more forest, more grassland and, finally, desert.'
'And the lyrinx control the lot?'
'Most of it,' said Flydd. 'Not being keen on water, they keep clear of the bog country.'
'Even so, I don't see how we're better off than we were before.'
'There are creatures in Meldorin that even the lyrinx are afraid of.'
'Very comforting. So where are we going?'
'I'll tell you, if we get there.'
She shivered and drew her coat around her. There had been snow on the mountains and she could feel it on the wind.
The dark became so intense that finally they were forced to land, creeping down with the rotor off while Flangers stood at the front, and Muss at the rear, with lanterns held out on poles to watch for trees and other obstacles. Normally they were forbidden on air-floaters because of the danger of explosion. Irisis held her breath all the way but they made it safely to the ground, hammered in wooden pegs and tethered the machine.
'If there are lyrinx about, we've just told them exactly where we are,' said Fyn-Mah.
Forty-four
Can't be helped.' Flydd paced up and down, cracking his knuckles and muttering under his breath.
'I'll make the camp fire,' said Irisis. 'I'm starving.'
'Can't risk fire here, in case there are enemy patrols on high. Have something from the stew pot.'
'Cold bean-and-onion soup? We've been eating that for weeks.'
'The youth of today!' he muttered. 'When I was on the clanker-hauling team, I would have given my right foot for a bowl of bean-and-onion soup. Fetch me some, would you?'
'Get it yourself!' Irisis felt like hitting him. They'd passed half a dozen isolated peaks where they could have hidden for the night, built a roaring fire and cooked a decent meal from the supplies they'd bought in Jibstorn. Not even a brazier was permitted on the air-floater, lest it set off the floater gas. Irisis could think of nothing but the haunch of venison in the larder.
He was unfazed. 'Shall I wait on you with a bowl?'
'No thanks, I'm going to sleep. Why don't you pull the airbag down and patch those gashes properly?'
'Good idea.' He strolled down to the galley as if nothing had happened.
They warmed a flat iron against the floater-gas generator. Flangers ran it over the patches until the tar softened enough for the patch to be eased off, re-tarred and replaced smoothly. A larger patch was placed over that, just to be sure. Irisis set the floater-gas generator running and went to the cabin. She lay on the floor next to Nish, listening to his steady breathing, and suddenly, out of nowhere, realised that she loved him.
This changed everything – she could no longer be fatalistic about their probable fate. She had something to live for. And everything to fear.
The night passed uneventfully. Nish was still asleep in the morning, which bothered her. It was almost two days since he'd hit his head. However, he was breathing normally and nothing seemed broken so she left him to it.
The airbag was so full that the machine was straining at its ropes. They did not wait for breakfast, just went up as fast as they could and kept going, north by north-west.
In the mid-morning they passed over a city, also abandoned and partly overgrown. 'Garching,' said Flydd. 'It was held to be a beautiful place, in its time. A garden city at the foot of the mountains.' He scanned it with the spyglass, frowning.
'What is it?' said Irisis, who was standing beside him, Inouye having recovered enough to take the controller.
'Oh, I was just thinking of the past. Garching features in one of the Great Tales, you know. I was wondering if such times will ever come again. If, indeed, there'll be any more Great Tales. Or anyone to hear the old ones.'
'I don't imagine the ancient days were quite as wonderful as they're made out.'
'I'm sure they weren't but, except for the dark days of the Clysm, they weren't as desperate as our time, either. I'm afraid, Irisis. Afraid this is the end, not just for us, but for every human on Santhenar.'
Again Irisis felt that chill. She had never heard him talk like this before.
'Surely the scrutators can't be that bad?'
'They're worse than you can imagine! I hadn't realised it before – I was too busy with my provincial concerns to see the true picture. But since this last phase of the war began it's become all too clear. The Council of Scrutators, for all their control, for all their spy networks, for all their power, are not only corrupt, but incompetent. They're fossils and must be swept away.'
A shiver of dread started at the soles of her feet and ran up the backs of her legs, all the way to her scalp. 'That's treason, Xervish, punishable by the most gruesome death that human ingenuity can come up with.' Irisis had fought the scrutators, opposed them in many ways, escaped from their bastion of Nennifer, but those crimes were nothing to what he was proposing. It was worse than treason – it was sedition, the worst crime of all, and it would mean not only his death and hers, but the execution of her family, her friends, and every single person of her family's line. The House of Stirm would be expunged from the earth.
'I never thought I'd say it' Flydd said, 'but the age of scrutators is over.'
'But who would order the world?' Despite everything she'd experienced, Irisis was no revolutionary. She believed in the system they had, faulty though it was.
'I don't know. The trouble with tyrants is that so few are benevolent. Power corrupts, and most of those who seek it are already corrupt. That's the insoluble problem – replacing the Council without making things worse.'
'What about you, surr?'
'I don't want it, Irisis.'
'I've heard it said that the only man suitable for high office is the one who refuses to accept it.'
'An appropriate paradox…'
He broke off and Irisis did not question him further. It was all too disturbing.
Around the middle of the day they saw trees in the distance, and sunlight shining on water. 'Orist,' said Eiryn Muss.
A land of lakes, mires and swamp forests, it stretched northwest beyond sight. 'Where are we going, Muss?' asked Irisis.
'I don't know,' said the perfect spy, which was also worrying.
Sometime later, Irisis saw, away to her left in the west, a rugged coastline, and beyond it, what she took to be the Western Ocean.
'I presume we're not going across the ocean?' she said to Flydd. 'I hope not, since the patches are leaking again.' They had been losing altitude steadily, despite the floater-gas generator.