‘I can think of one,’ Tiaan said savagely. ‘If I had the power, I’d destroy all the nodes on Santhenar.’
‘That would be the death of all the Arts,’ said Malien mildly. ‘The good as well as the bad.’
‘If the world keeps on the way it’s going, building ever more powerful devices and taking more and more to operate them, the Art will be the death of Santhenar. Humanity was never meant to have such power, Malien. Look what we’ve done to our world during the brief course of this war, and that’s nothing to what we will do.’
‘Whether our powers are great or small, good and evil apply in the same measure. And if you succeeded, and survived it, what then?’
Tiaan hadn’t thought about that. ‘I suppose I’d just live a simple life without the Art, like everyone else.’
Malien sighed. ‘If only it were that simple. Getting rid of the Art would not change the human nature that has abused it.’
‘But it would limit the amount of damage that evil people could do.’
‘You can’t turn time back, Tiaan; neither for the world, nor yourself. You’re what life and the Art have made of you. If you robbed yourself of that, you would be the unhappiest person in the world.’
Nish and Irisis had joined them and as soon as they were in the air, flying in darkness, Malien said casually, ‘Could we fly over the lyrinx camp for a moment? I’d like to see how they’re faring.’
‘So would I,’ said Tiaan. ‘I knew some of them well. Ryll was a decent man – male – no, I’ll call him a man. He was a better man than many humans I’ve known. And Liett …’
‘Liett held me prisoner,’ said Nish unexpectedly. ‘After … er, Gilhaelith left me behind.’ He glanced at the geomancer, who managed to look abashed for perhaps the first time in his life. ‘The other lyrinx seemed in awe of her. And when she’d finished with me, she left me in Ryll’s custody. He seemed to have grown in stature since I last saw him.’
‘Both Ryll and Liett have grown,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘They’ve greatly influenced the other lyrinx, and this has been recognised.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Tiaan.
‘There’s been a profound shift in their attitudes since the relics were discovered,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘Matriarch Gyrull forced the lyrinx to think about the future as well as the past. The lyrinx who are least flesh-formed and most human, the reverts, are now venerated as being closest to their ancient selves.’
‘The other lyrinx must find that hard to take.’
‘Many do, but most yearn for their children to be more like their ancestors. In lyrinx society, the individual must bow to the will of the whole, or even be sacrificed for the good of the whole, and most do so gladly. Once they discovered their true ancestry, most lyrinx accepted that they had to change to survive and prosper on this world. It would be a tragedy if they were to disappear.’
‘There may be a way to save them,’ said Tiaan. ‘I er … neglected to mention it to Flydd and the others, but Vithis has built a portal out on a pinnacle in the Dry Sea.’
‘A portal? Really?’ Gilhaelith’s eyes lit up.
‘Well, it’s really a device to create a portal,’ said Malien. ‘He had it made to rescue First Clan from the void. And I have the key.’
‘If I could just see a working gate,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘If I could step across to another world, no matter how briefly, it would be the climax of my geomantic life. I would die a happy man.’
‘Your mention of the fate of the Faellem gave me an idea, Malien,’ said Tiaan.
‘I thought it might,’ said Malien.
Tiaan regarded her with a thoughtful smile. ‘Shall we go down and talk to the lyrinx?’
‘But we’ll be branded as traitors!’ said Nish. ‘Flydd will be apoplectic.’
‘I’ll take you back if you like,’ said Tiaan. ‘But I simply can’t stand by and see the lyrinx destroyed.’
Nish and Irisis exchanged glances. ‘I’ve seen enough killing to last me a lifetime,’ said Nish. ‘But …’
‘There’ll be no going back,’ said Irisis. ‘What do we do, Nish?’
‘Now that the war is over, and we’ve miraculously survived it, I just want to go home.’
‘So do I,’ said Irisis. ‘But we can’t. How would we live with ourselves?’
‘You’re right,’ said Nish. ‘Take us down, Tiaan.’
SEVENTY-FOUR
The thapter drifted low above the lyrinx prison, if prison it could be called, for it had no walls. A circle of clankers were drawn up half a league further out, and mind-shocks struck the enemy if they tried to pass beyond boundaries marked by lines carved into the salt. It was a black night and the area close to the clankers was lit, though the camp lay in almost complete darkness. Just a lantern winked here and there to show the shape of the half a million lyrinx – their great army plus all the old, the young and others who would not normally fight.
‘Can we be seen from the clankers?’ Tiaan said quietly.
‘Surely not,’ said Malien. She called down. ‘Bring up the flag.’
Irisis hung a blue truce flag out on a pole, Nish directed the light from a lantern on it and shortly a lyrinx appeared in an open space in the centre of the camp, skin-changed to brilliant, luminous blue. Javelards and crossbows were trained on the thapter as they approached.
‘This could go very wrong,’ said Malien. ‘You do realise that?’
‘Minis found the courage to atone for his failings,’ said Tiaan. ‘How can I do less?’
She set the thapter down a little way from the blue lyrinx, who immediately changed to the black of coal. He was huge and had a golden crest, the only one Irisis had ever seen. He folded his arms and waited. A wall of lyrinx surrounded them, and their colours and patterns were threatening.
Gilhaelith lifted one leg over the side. ‘Do you think showing your face is a good idea?’ said Malien.
‘I’m dying. What do I have to lose?’
Gilhaelith went down and planted the truce flag deep in the salt. The lyrinx made a collective ratchetting sound, perhaps representing a hiss, and surged forward as one. A female voice called a command, they stopped and the circle parted to admit five more lyrinx, two males and three females, carrying lanterns. Four lacked wings but showed blue truce colours. The fifth had thin, colourless, unarmoured skin and translucent, soaring wings. The surrounding lyrinx retreated until the circle around the thapter was about two hundred paces across.
The five joined the golden-crested male, twenty paces away from the thapter.
‘The leading wingless male is Ryll,’ said Tiaan. ‘The colourless female is Liett. I don’t know the others.’
Irisis wondered if they could possibly be the leaders of this vast gathering. They seemed too young. Anyway, the lyrinx were led by matriarchs, so they must be here as translators.
A group of five weathered females moved across from the other side of the circle, but stopped twenty paces away, arms folded. The remaining matriarchs, Irisis assumed.
After a long interval of silence Ryll held out a hand. ‘Tiaan.’ He gave what passed for a smile. ‘Nish; you lead a busy life. I don’t know your name,’ he said to Irisis, ‘though I do remember you. We fought, once, on the other side of the world.’
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ said Irisis, taking his leathery hand. ‘And this is Malien, Matah of the Aachim of Santhenar.’
‘Malien from the time the Forbidding was broken?’ said Ryll.
‘The same,’ said Malien. ‘You know the Histories, then?’
‘We know everything we’ve been able to learn about humanity – our Histories that might have been.’
Malien bowed and he did too, then extended his hand. She took it.
Ryll turned to Gilhaelith. ‘In the circumstances, Tetrarch, I won’t shake hands with you.’