Alchymist

'So did everyone,' said Flydd. 'He disappeared at the end of that tale, some two hundred years ago, and has not been seen since. Everyone thought he was dead. Well, almost everyone.'

'Why did he come back to this miserable place?' said Irisis. 'He might have dwelt anywhere on Santhenar.'

'I dare say he likes it here,' Flydd remarked. 'But who knows where he has been? For all we know he could have travelled seven times around the known world, and the unknown. In his day, he had the best -'

'A day long past,' said Nish. 'As I recall it, his courage failed him in the Tale of the Mirror.'

'I'd watch my tongue if I were you,' Flydd said coldly. 'He may be listening to our every word. Besides, he was a great man once, and deserves your respect.'

Nish glanced around uncomfortably.

Irisis packed kindling into the stove, shrugging Fiz Gorgo and Lord Yggur away. 'I've been looking forward to this dinner for a long time.'

She had been thinking and dreaming about food for weeks. Among her many skills Irisis was a brilliant cook, and in times past she'd cooked for herself, and friends, when she could no longer bear the muck provided by the manufactory. Since leaving there last spring she'd had few meals worth thinking about, and most of those had been with Flydd in Gospett. In the past month the food had been horrible, and there had been little enough of it. In Jibstorn she had spent a fortune buying the best of everything. Tonight was going to be a meal to remember.

'How much longer are you planning to torment us?' said Nish, several hours later. The smells arising from the stove were glorious. Even Flangers, deeply withdrawn since she'd forced him to remit his life to her, had a gleam in his eye.

Irisis smiled inwardly. Food always served, if there'd been lack of it for long enough. 'Not long now. Why don't you set up the trestle?'

By the time that was done, dinner was ready. She gave one of her sauces a gentle stir. A shadow drifted down the hall, hesitated for a second outside the door, then went on. A minute later it came past again, glanced across to the stove and continued. Irisis pretended not to notice.

She served up the platters, and no one seemed to notice that an extra one contained some of the choicest portions. While everyone was sitting down, she took up the platter and slipped out the door. Irisis could not have said why, only that she was curious about the master of Fiz Gorgo.

It did not take long to find him, for Yggur sat at a big table in a room at the far end of the hall. He was reading and did not look up as she approached. The floater-gas generator sat on the table beside him, in pieces. There was a faint smell of liquorice in the air, and several slices of peeled root on a dish.

Irisis stood in front of the table, feeling more than a little foolish.

'What do you want?' he growled, still with his head in the book.

'I thought you might be hungry, Lord Yggur.'

At the sound of her voice his head snapped up and the book fell shut. 'Ah, the artisan,' he said. 'I am no lord, and outside this place I don't go by the name Yggur. The past is dead and I prefer it to stay that way.'

'You called me artisan. How do you know me, surr?'

'"He may be listening to our every word,"' he quoted. 'I know everything that goes on in my own realm. I presume your scrutator has sent you to cozen me?'

Irisis blushed, which she found embarrassing. 'Since you've overheard everything we said, surr, you would know I'm going against his direct orders. It's just that, well, you were so kind as to provide us with a roof for the night, and I wished to repay you in what small way I could.'

His lips twitched and Irisis felt as though he could read her mind, the bad as well as the good. In truth, she had no idea why she had done it, though it was not attraction to Yggur. She'd chosen her man and had no interest in any other.

'Very well. Put it on the table. Your own dinner will be getting cold.'

She bowed and turned to the door, feeling his eyes boring into her back and resisting the urge to run away. A disturbing man. And then, sitting down at the trestle with the others, she ate the entire glorious meal without tasting a thing.

They slept the sleep of the truly exhausted that night, and not even Flydd noticed when Yggur slipped into their chamber in the pre-dawn hours. Conjuring ghost light with his fingers, he inspected each in turn. His gaze lingered longest on three: the scrutator, Nish and Irisis. As he turned to go, Yggur almost stumbled over the little pilot, who lay by herself in her sleeping pouch, tossing and groaning. Bending down, he placed the glowing light to her temples, left and right. She rolled over onto her side and slept soundly, and Yggur withdrew.

They went to the machine at dawn and began to repair the tear in the airbag. 'Work slowly,' said Flydd. 'We don't want to leave today.'

Though they dawdled as much as they reasonably could, the airbag was repaired before midday. Inouye installed her controller and Flydd sent Nish to find Yggur and recover the floater-gas generator.

Nish went to the room at the end of the corridor where Yggur sat at the table, writing. The reassembled generator was at his right hand.

'Take it,' said Yggur, his nib looping across the page.

Nish reached out, rather gingerly, and lifted the heavy generator in both hands.

As he turned to go Yggur said, 'You are Cryl-Nish Hlar, weapons artificer, son of Jal-Nish Hlar. Your life is now at a crossroads. Women have been your weakness and you believe that lack of courage is mine.'

Nish flushed. 'I'm sorry, surr. Last night I was tired and hungry and afraid. Sometimes I speak without thinking.'

'Honest, at least,' Yggur said grudgingly. 'Put the generator down for a moment. Cryl-Nish, why have you come here?'

Nish sat it on the table and rubbed his aching arms. 'Scrutator Flydd brought us, surr. I don't know his reasons, though he's looking for help and can't find it anywhere else.'

'Not surprising, since he's a renegade who has been cast out and condemned.'

'The scrutators are fools, surr, who cannot -'

The black brows knitted. 'Who are you to judge the mighty, lowly artificer that you are?' Yggur thundered.

Once Nish would have slunk away, but he stood fast. 'I have eyes to see, surr. And, since you've been listening to our talk, you'll know that I've seen many great deeds done, and terrible ones too, on both sides of the world. My late father -'

'Do you tell me that Jal-Nish Hlar is dead?'

'He was killed at the great battle near Gnulp Landing, a few weeks ago. Killed and eaten by the lyrinx.'

'I'm out of touch, living here,' said Yggur. News travels slowly to Meldorin, if at all.'

'I'm a dutiful son, surr. I mourn my father, though he was an evil man who was prepared to do anything to gain a position as scrutator on the Council, including sentencing his youngest son to a miserable death as a slave.'

Yggur sat up at that. 'Oh?'

Nish briefly related that tale.

'A severe punishment for a father to inflict on a son, even for so great a blunder.' Yggur weighed Nish up. 'And yet, such qualities as your father had may be required to win this interminable war.'

'With respect, surr, I disagree. My father was corrupt, I'm sorry to say, and many on the Council, including Ghorr, are just as depraved. They could have won the war long ago, but it gave them the excuse to maintain their own power.'

'Tell me more, Artificer.'

Perhaps Yggur was more interested in the outside world than he pretended. He questioned Nish for the best part of an hour, more incisively than any interrogation by Flydd, Vithis or even his own father. All the more surprising that Yggur hid himself away from the world.

Finally Flydd came looking for Nish. Yggur dismissed him and Flydd accompanied him back to the machine; they carried the floater-gas generator between them. Nish felt quite drained.

'You seemed to be having a merry chat,' said Flydd, after an uncomfortable pause. 'I thought I told you to say as little as possible.'