Muss met their eyes, one by one, and continued.
‘But I survived, for two qualities of the lyrinx I had in abundance. I could flesh-form far better than any lyrinx, for it was part Art and part innate ability, and I could do it to myself. It hurt brutally at first, but I persisted until I had gained enough mastery to assume any form roughly my own size, and use my chameleon ability to mimic whatever external appearance I cared to. To survive inside Nennifer I had to become a morphmancer beyond compare, and I had to go back in. I couldn’t live outside, nor cross the mountains alone.
‘I killed a lowly prentice and took his place. I regretted the necessity but, after all, I’d saved the lad from a fate as bad as my own. And then I set out to learn everything I could about the spell that had so disastrously transformed me, in the hope that one day I might undo it. Years passed; a decade. In one guise, then another, I learned everything there was to be known about the regeneration spell. Even how to reverse it.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ said Nish.
‘It wasn’t enough to just know how. Being a mancer of only moderate talent, I needed great power, perfectly focussed, to work the smallest of charms, and on my own I could never hope to use any Great Spell. But then, by pure serendipity, I hit upon another way. If I could gain a small piece of nihilium, I could imprint the spell on it, then attempt to undo what had been done to me. But not even the Council of Scrutators possessed such a treasure. After years of spying I was unable to discover nihilium anywhere on Santhenar. I had, however, learned that it might be created if a node were destroyed in a particular way, by feeding power back into it.’
‘Why didn’t you do it yourself?’ said Irisis.
‘You privileged people think everything is easy,’ he snapped. ‘But fate distributes talents thinly, and seldom where they’re most needed. I lacked the Art to control the destruction of a node, and no amount of hard work or self-belief could change that. I had to find a great and powerful patron to do it for me, but I feared the Council members too much to try and influence them. I had to leave Nennifer, but in the outside world there was only one position I was suited for. So I became a prober, a junior spy to Scrutator Xervish Flydd.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought …’ began Nish.
‘I made a perfect spy, for in addition to my morphmancing talent, I was stoic, patient and painstaking. After all I’d been through, I had to be. Having two minds in one, as it were, I read character very well. And being a chimaera, I find it easy to unravel what is hidden, confused, concealed or enciphered. To bolster that talent even further I made my eidoscope, to see the true forms of things, to make sense out of what is confused or hidden, and to find the true path through a maze.’
‘But you weren’t a fighter,’ said Nish.
‘Despite being part lyrinx I was physically weak, and my warring tissues magnified the least injury into a debilitating agony. I had to be careful to avoid conflict. My best defence was to hide.’
‘Well, it’s all over,’ said Klarm. ‘Tie him up, someone, then let’s collect our wounded and go home. I’ve had enough of Nennifer.’
‘You spent years spying on the scrutators,’ Irisis said thoughtfully. ‘What do you know about the Numinator, Muss?’
‘Not here, you bloody fool!’ snapped Flydd, quelling her with a glare of such ferocity that Irisis stepped backwards out of the way.
Eiryn Muss let out an inarticulate cry and skin-changed to the swirling patterns of the marble wall behind him. Within thirty seconds he was practically invisible. He cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the emerald throne and began to back away, his skin tones shifting to match whatever he passed in front of.
‘What’s going on?’ Klarm seized Muss by the wrist and held him easily. ‘What is this Numinator, Flydd? Are you telling me that there’s a higher power?’
‘Not here, Klarm,’ Flydd said warningly.
‘Why not?’ Klarm’s voice rose. ‘Start out as you mean to go on, Flydd. No more secrets. After what we’ve gone through, we deserve an answer.’
‘I’ll tell you once we get back to the thapter,’ said Flydd. ‘It’s not … safe.’
‘Poppycock!’ said Klarm. ‘We’re the only power left in this place.’
‘And as the chief power, I say not now. If we don’t collect our injured friends soon they’ll freeze to death. I’m at the end of my strength and we’ve got a lot of work yet to do.’ He tapped the platinum box pointedly and trudged to the door.
Klarm didn’t budge. ‘Eiryn Muss, you’re the perfect spy, and were spying long before you left this place to go into Flydd’s service. There can’t be any secret you didn’t delve into in all your time here. Tell us about this mysterious Numinator.’
Muss wiped cold sweat off his brow with his free hand. He tried to shape-change but Klarm did not let go and, after several transformations, the prober reverted to his customary form.
‘I don’t think –’ Muss broke off at the rumble of a distant collapse. The mirrored globe shuddered on its stand and the deformed reflections danced.
‘Now!’ Klarm snapped.
‘I’d also like to know,’ said Nish, feeling that he’d earned the right to defy Flydd this once. ‘I heard …’ Flydd had told him but he dared not say it, ‘… that the Council of Scrutators danced to the Numinator’s tune. How can the most powerful people in the world be cowed by someone no one has ever seen?’
Muss licked lips so dry and fissured that they crackled.
‘And be quick about it,’ said Klarm. ‘If I never see Nennifer again after today, it’ll be too soon.’
‘The Numinator created the Council of Scrutators in the first place,’ said Muss.
‘What?’ cried Flydd, who was halfway through the door. He came back slowly, now showing his age and aftersickness with every dragging step.
‘It was well over a hundred years ago …’ said Muss. ‘The Numinator – he or she, no one knows – took over the existing Council of Santhenar and shaped it to his own purposes …’ another glance over his shoulder, ‘… only one of which was to win the war. The war wasn’t going so badly then. The lyrinx were few and didn’t threaten the whole world.’
‘What were the other purposes?’ said Klarm.
‘Controlling the world was one. Rewriting the Histories, in particular the Tale of the Mirror, was another. A third was collecting information on every person: their ancestry, looks, family traits, habits and talents, and compiling the bloodline registers.’
‘What for?’ said Nish.
‘No one knows,’ said Muss. ‘A copy of each register was placed in this room, and from here it vanished.’ His head jerked up and he stared at the emerald throne as if expecting the dread personage of the Numinator to materialise there.
The emerald throne remained as it was. Muss was gazing up at something, unblinking, and his eyes widened perceptibly. He was looking at the mirrored globe.
Nish glanced at it and the little hairs stirred on his arms. The room and its contents were still reflected there, but none of the people were. He edged towards the door. ‘As Flydd said, there’s Tiaan, Malien and Yggur to be recovered, and little Inouye, if she’s still alive. We can sort this out later.’
‘I think so too,’ said Flydd, who had come back into the room. ‘Let’s go, Klarm.’
At a faint humming sound, like a swarm of bees a long way away, Muss’s mouth gaped open and his eyes bulged. With a convulsive jerk he tore free of Klarm’s hand and bolted for the door.
‘Don’t let him get away!’ yelled Klarm.
To the distant music of tubular bells the mirrored globe became as clear as glass, revealing a roiling sphere inside as bright and burning as the sun. A ray of light burst from it and fingered the surface of the table before creeping along to the eidoscope, which was still lying there. The lenses rotated of their own accord; a mass of coloured rays shot from the other end and touched Muss on the back.