‘And I so very nearly did,’ said Flydd. ‘I was sure it would be the end of me.’
‘And yet you did not falter.’
‘I told myself I had to keep going, that there was no other option. And to my shame, there was a touch of pride in it as well. I had to prove that I was still a man.’
‘A touch of pride isn’t such a bad thing,’ said Irisis.
‘It was so near. And yet, it’s still not over.’ He looked up but Fusshte and Halie had disappeared.
Flydd climbed onto the top of the turret, turned to survey the ward-mancers and extended his hands towards them, then to the others in the chamber.
‘The two surviving scrutators have fled,’ he said so softly that Nish had to strain to hear, ‘abandoning Nennifer to the fate they brought upon it. Their Council is disbanded. Scrutator Klarm and I will take their place until a new regime can be installed. Does anyone challenge our edict?’
None of the ward-mancers spoke, though they bowed their collective heads. ‘Then it is done,’ said Flydd. ‘Go, inform the guards that a new council is in charge, and that Scrutators Fusshte and Halie must be held for trial and execution. Tell everyone to assemble in the air-dreadnought yard, well away from the walls, for the remains of Nennifer will soon collapse. Everyone must collect what food and clothing they can gather on the way.’ He turned to Nish, Irisis, Flangers and Klarm.
‘It’s not over yet. We must make sure that the amplimet has been driven back to the lowest stage of wakening, where it was when Tiaan found it. I’ve done the first part of the job, but it’s mancer’s work and none of you need be bothered about it.’
‘Let’s go home,’ said Irisis.
One of the seats rattled up above, and Nish looked up to see Muss’s slender figure disappear from the rail of the dome chamber.
‘First we have a mite of unfinished business to attend to,’ said Flydd. ‘After him, and be quick about it.’
‘What’s going on?’ said Klarm.
‘That’s what I’d like to know. All I know is that Eiryn Muss has been waiting for this moment for a very long time.’
‘And probably engineered it,’ said Nish.
Flydd gave him a keen glance. ‘He probably did.’
‘He’s a chimaera,’ said Irisis.
Flydd started. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Unwittingly, you’ve put your finger on the very key to his nature, though you don’t realise it. He is a chimaera and I don’t know how to deal with him.’
THIRTY-TWO
Tiaan was secured and one of the soldiers carried her out to where Yggur, Malien and Evee had been left. Everyone else went after Eiryn Muss at the best pace they could muster. It wasn’t impressive – they were all beyond exhaustion – but the cold spurred them on. In exposed areas it was crippling, for the Art sustaining Nennifer had completely failed now. All the globes had gone out and what remained of the structure was crumbling visibly in the moonlight. Not a minute went by but that another segment fell into ruin.
‘Where would Muss go?’ said Flydd, the only one of them who wasn’t staggering. His hair was white with dust, his lips like bloodless worms, his scarred and puckered skin glassy tight. He had bloodstains small and large all over him and his clothes were in shreds, but his eyes were gleaming beacons. The impossible victory had been achieved and he’d exacted a partial revenge for his torments. The amplimet’s box hung from his hip in a net made from a section of platinum mesh, just to be sure, and both were secured to his waist with a fine steel chain.
Klarm shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’
Something occurred to Nish. ‘Xervish, at Gumby Marth you said –’
‘When I want you to blab about my affairs I’ll let you know,’ Flydd said coldly.
‘Aren’t you being a bit hard on the lad, Xervish, after all he’s done?’ said Klarm, lurching on the leg that had previously been in calipers.
‘Humph!’ Flydd snorted, casting Nish a piercing glance from beneath his single brown and hairy eyebrow. The mad grin of triumph came back. ‘If our subordinates are to earn our trust, they must learn when to keep their mouths shut. Which way here?’
Klarm held up an oil-fed lantern he’d found in the upper chamber and passed it back and forth over the dusty rubble. Nish couldn’t make out anything from its flickering yellow glow.
‘This way,’ said the dwarf, gesturing with the lantern towards a crumbling opening on their left.
They followed him in silence, too worn and weary to speak. Nish’s broken arm hadn’t been set yet, and indeed, he wasn’t sure anyone but Irisis realised that it was broken. Irisis was stumbling along with her eyes almost closed. There had been no time to eat, drink or rest before the pursuit had begun. Nish was in such pain that he couldn’t think, and every step up onto the rubble, or down off it, sent another spasm up his arm. The pain ran all the way to the base of his skull, where it lodged as a brilliant, white-hot glow.
‘I’ve got a feeling he’s heading for the chief scrutator’s strongroom,’ Klarm went on after they’d scrambled through another three half-collapsed building segments, following Muss’s trail through the dust. ‘Which is off his private mancing chambers – at least, it used to be.’
‘How can you tell where he’s going?’ Flydd said wearily. The grin was fading.
‘Just a hunch.’
‘I’ve never been to the strongroom. Have you?’
‘Once,’ said Klarm. ‘Though only to the outer door, and the inner was sealed with potent scrutator magic all the time I was there. Chief scrutator magic, at that – I could sense it from the other side of the room. It pleased Ghorr for me to know about it, I think. He liked to emphasise his superiority in little ways as well as big.’
‘It’s surprising that you got on at all,’ said Flydd, ‘considering …’
‘Considering that he despised anyone with physical imperfections,’ chuckled Klarm. ‘Ghorr sneered at everyone less imposing than himself, and loathed those who had a greater physical presence.’
‘An insecure man, despite all his natural gifts. Unlike yourself.’
‘I came to terms with what I am long ago. It’s the inner man that counts, not the fragile shell that carries it around.’
Flydd paused a moment, as if pondering that. ‘You say the strongroom was locked with chief scrutator magic,’ Flydd ruminated, ‘the secret of which is passed on to the new chief scrutator only when the old one is on his deathbed, or in some equally dire extreme. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Klarm?’
‘I’m not sure I am,’ said Klarm.
‘I am,’ interjected Irisis, suddenly perking up. Her wits were many steps ahead of Nish’s. ‘None of the scrutators were with Ghorr when he died, so the secret can’t have been passed on. Fusshte wouldn’t have been able to discover what lay inside the chief scrutator’s strongroom.’
‘That would have driven him into a fury,’ Flydd chuckled. ‘Being chief but not having the keys to the treasure chest. But now the Art sustaining Nennifer has failed, perhaps the scrutator magic has failed as well. Yes – that’s why Muss is heading for the strongroom. He’s after something inside. Is this what he was trying to engineer all along?’
‘I presume so,’ said Klarm.
‘Does that mean we can expect a visit from Fusshte as well?’ said Nish, plodding dully along. He couldn’t contemplate yet another struggle. He was utterly, utterly burned out. How was it that Flydd could drive himself on?
‘After Flydd’s awesome display to overpower the amplimet,’ said Klarm, ‘Fusshte will be running as fast as he can.’
‘That will be the strongroom ahead,’ Klarm said a while later, heaving himself up a pile of stone blocks towards an imposing steel door, once concealed by maroon velvet drapes which now hung from the left side, all tattered and covered in dust. The door was ajar. ‘Quiet now. It looks like he’s already within.’