Beside Irisis, Tiaan stiffened.
‘Vithis has to be told that his clan is no more,’ said Malien.
‘I – but surely I don’t have to go? He …’
‘You must, Tiaan. It’s the end of his clan, and you discovered what happened to them. You have to tell him what you know. I can’t do that for you. I have my own story to relate.’
‘But … Minis will be there. How am I to face him? I don’t think I can.’
‘You’ve been running away for more than a year. If you’ve done him wrong – and only you and he know the truth of that – you have to face up to it.’
‘I’m sure Flydd won’t allow me to go.’
‘He can spare you now,’ said Malien. ‘Nothing’s going to happen until all the enemy’s Arts have been stripped from them. I’ll tell him I’m taking you.’
Tiaan walked away across the salt until Irisis lost sight of her in the dim light. She shifted her weight with a faint crunch.
‘You think I’m pushing her too hard,’ Malien said quietly.
‘I can’t say,’ said Irisis. ‘Although I couldn’t bear to have it hanging over my head. I’d have to go at it head-on, whatever the consequences.’
Malien went in to Flydd, and came back within minutes. ‘He didn’t put up as much of a fight as I’d expected, even when I said I was taking you as well.’
It was a long time before Tiaan returned. ‘I can see that you’re right,’ she said to Malien. Her face was in darkness but the tension in her voice was palpable. ‘Vithis has to be faced sooner or later. And Minis. In some ways, it’d be a relief to have it over, though I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.’
‘I’ll be standing beside you,’ said Malien.
‘But I can’t run away and allow the lyrinx to be exterminated,’ Tiaan added.
‘Nice try, Tiaan, but any decision will be days yet. Besides,’ Malien said slyly, ‘if you were to take your node map, Orgestre wouldn’t dare attack them.’
‘But then the lyrinx might –’
‘They won’t. There’s no escaping your duty, Tiaan.’
Dawn broke as they approached the Foshorn. Irisis climbed the ladder, rubbed her eyes and yawned. She’d slept most of the night and wouldn’t have minded a few hours more. The rising sun lit up the towering cliffs and ramparts. Directly below, the salt lakes formed by the Trihorn Falls were still in shadow.
Tiaan, who was rigid with tension, offered her hot chard and strips of dried quince. Irisis took a handful. ‘Where’s the famous Foshorn, then?
‘The Trihorn Falls are straight ahead,’ said Malien, who was still flying. ‘The Hornrace, linking the Sea of Thurkad to the Dry Sea, lies behind them. We’ll be over it in half an hour.’
‘That’s strange,’ Malien said a few minutes later. ‘I don’t see much water coming over the falls.’
‘I don’t suppose it changes with the seasons?’ said Irisis.
Malien chuckled. ‘Not with an ocean behind it.’ She turned to curve across the glistening lower flanks of the Trihorn. The layered rock was etched with deep slots and canyons that ran down to the salt lakes below the Trihorn, but the falls had been reduced to a few trickles.
She lifted the nose of the machine to fly up the face of the Trihorn. Irisis felt her stomach being left behind. She put down the dried quince, no longer hungry, and concentrated on not spilling her chard. Up, up and up they soared, flying faster and faster. Malien’s jaw was set and she was staring fixedly ahead.
They rocketed towards the peaks and, as they reached the left-hand gap through which the falls had once flowed, Malien flattened out with a jerk of her hand, curving between the two peaks.
Irisis gagged as her stomach and intestines seemed to be pushing up into her throat. Her feet lifted off the floor and she caught desperately at the side rail.
‘Sorry,’ said Malien. ‘I’m in a bit of a hurry –’
Below the thapter a trench, cut hundreds of spans deep and wide through solid rock, ran ahead as far as they could see.
‘Was that the Hornrace?’ said Irisis. It contained just a few elongated pools.
‘It was.’
The thapter climbed higher. In the distance a massive, rectangular building, constructed upon a colossal arch of stone, spanned the Foshorn. Smaller cubes made a kind of pyramid at the centre of the arch.
‘Where’s the watch-tower?’ said Tiaan.
‘It’s fallen,’ Malien replied grimly. ‘See. And not of its own accord. History repeats itself.’
Tiaan shot her a glance. Malien shook her head as if saying, later.
The tower’s suspended arches appeared to have broken and it had speared right through the pyramidal building. The pyramid and the Span still stood, though rubble from the tower had dammed the Hornrace. The flagpole that had stood on top stuck up at an angle from the dam, still proudly flying the pennant of Inthis First Clan.
Malien circled over the arch. A ragged hole had been torn right through the vast building. Thousands of constructs were drawn up in ranks outside, not too close in case the rest collapsed. Aachim stood in groups everywhere, staring at the ruins.
Malien hovered for a while, silently taking in the scene. ‘Best we go down and find Vithis,’ she said at last.
‘How are we going to guard the thapter?’ Tiaan said in a dry croak.
‘I am Matah of all my people,’ said Malien with the unconscious arrogance that characterised her kind. ‘And I’m bringing Vithis the most tragic news of all.’
She landed between the constructs, close by the main doors, and a small group of Aachim came to meet them. They were still covered in dust and their eyes had a faraway look.
‘I am Malien,’ she said. ‘Matah of the Aachim of Santhenar. I must see Vithis on a matter of the utmost importance.’
‘I’m sorry, Matah,’ said the robed woman at their head, and they all bowed their heads respectfully. ‘In the circumstances, Vithis will not see even you. I’m sure you appreciate …’
‘It concerns the fate of his clan,’ Malien said.
The Aachim stiffened and cast a glance at her fellows. ‘I will take you to him at once.’ She gave orders to a slender boy, who set off at a run.
They followed in more stately fashion. The Aachim said no more and Malien asked no questions of her. Inside they climbed many flights of dust-covered, gritty stairs. Irisis lost count after a while. The building was different to other Aachim structures Irisis had read about in the Histories, being extremely plain and undecorated.
The lad appeared and led them across a large open floor scattered with rubble, to a slumped figure in the centre. Vithis was sitting on the edge of the ragged hole, legs dangling down through it, staring blindly at the still waters of the Hornrace. Tiaan hung back; then, with a visible wrench, she forced herself to come to the edge beside him.
‘Matah Malien,’ Vithis said dully. ‘You have news of Inthis?’
He looked up at Tiaan and Irisis caught her breath, knowing the enmity between them, but Vithis’s expression did not change.
Malien dusted off the floor and sat beside him, though she kept her legs clear of the hole. ‘I do, but not good news. We found the wreckage of many constructs out in the Dry Sea. They were made of the blue metal which only Inthis knows the secret of working. A few of the bodies wore First Clan colours. They had survived for some time.’
‘But they are all dead now?’
‘Alas, all that we could find. I’m sorry.’
‘They called this tower another First Clan folly.’ His voice was as harsh and dry as grit grinding underfoot. ‘A monument to my hubris. Not even my wretched foster-son had faith in our clan’s tenacity and will to live. But I knew First Clan had survived and I would not abandon them, whatever it cost my own reputation.’
Vithis looked up through the hole at the sky, or perhaps the limitless void. For a moment Irisis saw the nobility in him, the dreams he’d nurtured before life had crushed them one by one.
‘You did the right thing,’ said Malien. ‘Will you come to view the bodies, name those you know and record how they lived and died?’