Always there is something more. She glared at Yulwei with her flat black eyes. No fire can burn me, conjuror. You cannot stop me.
But I must try. The Magus flung his swords into the air. They turned, spun, edges glittering, spreading apart in the darkness, drifting impossibly sideways. They began to fly around Yulwei and Ferro in a whirling circle. Faster and faster until they were a blur of deadly metal. Close enough that if Ferro had reached out, her hand would have been snatched off at the wrist.
Stand still, said Yulwei.
That hardly needed saying. Ferro felt a surge of anger, hot and familiar. First I should run, then stand still? First the Seed is at the Edge of the World, and now it is here at the centre? First she is dead and now she has stolen anothers face? You old bastards need to get your stories straight.
They are liars! snarled Tolomei, and Ferro felt the cold of her freezing breath wash over her cheek and chill her to the bone. Users! You cannot trust them!
But I can trust you? Ferro snorted her contempt. Fuck yourself!
Tolomei nodded slowly. Then die, along with the rest. She padded sideways, balanced on her toes, rings of white frost spreading out wherever her bare feet touched the ground. You cannot keep juggling your knives forever, old man.
Over her white shoulder, Ferro saw Bayaz get slowly to his feet, holding one arm with the other, rigid face scratched and bloody. Something dangled from his limp fista long mass of metal tubes with a hook on the end, dull metal gleaming in the darkness. His eyes rolled to the far-off ceiling, veins bulging from his neck with effort as the air began to twist around him. Ferro felt that sucking in her gut and her eyes were drawn upwards. Up to the great machine that hung above their heads. It began to tremble.
Shit, she muttered, starting to back away.
If Tolomei noticed, she showed no sign. She bent her knees and sprang high into the air, a white streak over the spinning swords. She hung above for an instant, then plummeted down towards Yulwei. She crashed into the floor, knees first, the impact making the ground shake. A splinter of stone grazed Ferros cheek and she felt a blast of icy wind against her face, lurched a step back.
The Makers daughter frowned up. You do not die easily, old man, she snarled as the echoes faded.
Ferro could not tell how Yulwei had avoided her, but now he danced away, his hands moving in slow circles, bangles jingling, swords still tumbling through the air behind him. I have been working at it all my life. You do not die easily either.
The Makers daughter stood and faced him. I do not die.
High above the huge device lurched, cables pinging as they snapped, whipping in the darkness. With an almost dreamlike slowness, it began to fall. Glittering metal twisted, flexed, shrieked as it tumbled down. Ferro turned and ran. Five breathless strides and she flung herself down, sliding flat on her face across the polished rock. She felt the Seed digging into her stomach, the wind of the spinning swords ripping close to her back as she passed just beneath them.
The great machine hit the floor behind her with a noise like the music of hell. Each ring made a vast cymbal, a giants gong. Each struck its own mad note, a screaming, clanging, booming of tortured metal, loud enough to make every one of Ferros bones buzz. She looked up to see one great disc reel past her, clattering on its edge, striking bright sparks from the floor. Another flew into the air, spinning crazily like a flipped coin. She gasped as she rolled out of its way, scrambled back as it crashed into the ground beside her.
Where Yulwei and Tolomei had faced each other there was a hill of twisted metal, of broken rings and leaning discs, bent rods and tangled cables. Ferro struggled dizzily to her feet, a fury of discordant echoes ripping about the hall. Splinters dropped around her, pinging from the polished floor. Fragments were scattered the width of the hall, glinting in the shadows like stars in the night sky.
She had no idea who was dead and who alive.
Out! Bayaz growled at her through gritted teeth, face a twisted mask of pain. Out! Go!
Yulwei, she muttered, is he
I will come back for him! Bayaz flailed at her with his good arm. Go!
There are times to fight, and there are times to run, and Ferro knew well the difference. The Gurkish had taught it to her, deep in the Badlands. The archway jerked and wobbled as she sprinted towards it. Her own breath roared in her ears. She leaped over a gleaming wheel of metal, boots slapping at the smooth stone. She was almost at the archway. She felt a bitter chill at her side, a rush of sick terror. She flung herself forwards.
Tolomeis white hand missed Ferro by a whisker, tore a great chunk of stone from the wall and filled the air with dust.
You go nowhere!
Time to run, perhaps, but Ferros patience was all worn down. As she sprang up her fist already swinging, all the fury of her wasted months, her wasted years, her wasted life behind it. Her knuckles hit Tolomeis jaw with a sharp crunch. It was like punching a block of ice. There was no pain as her hand broke, but she felt her wrist buckle, her arm go numb. Too late to worry on it. Her other fist was on its way.
Tolomei snatched her arm from the air before it touched her, dragged Ferro close, twisting her helpless onto her knees with awful, irresistible strength. The Seed! The hissing words froze across Ferros face, snatching her breath out in a sick groan, her skin burning where Tolomei held her. She felt her bones twist, then snap, her forearm clicking sideways like a broken stick. A white hand crept through the shadows towards the lump in Ferros shirt.
There was a sudden light, a brilliant curve of it that lit the whole chamber for a blinding instant. Ferro heard a piercing shriek and she was free, sprawling on her back. Tolomeis hand was sliced off cleanly just above the wrist, leaving a bloodless stump. A great wound was scored down the smooth wall and deep into the floor, molten stone running from it, bubbling and sizzling. Smoke curled from the strange weapon in Bayaz hand as he lurched from the shadows, the hook at its end still glowing orange. Tolomei gave an icy scream, one hand clawing at him.
Bayaz roared mindlessly back at her, his eyes narrowed, his bloody mouth wide open. Ferro felt a twisting at her stomach, so savage she was bent over, almost dragged to her knees. The Makers daughter was snatched up and blasted away, one white heel tearing a long scar through the map on the floor, gouging through rock and ripping up metal.
The wreck of the grand device was blown apart behind her, its ruined pieces scattered glittering in the darkness like leaves on the wind. Tolomei was a flailing shape in a storm of flying metal. She hit the distant wall with an earth-shaking boom, flinging out chunks of broken stone. A hail of twisted fragments rattled, rang, clanged against the rock around her. Rings, pins, slivers like dagger blades wedged into the wall, making the whole great curve of stone a giant bed of nails.
Bayaz eyes bulged, his gaunt face wet with sweat. Die, devil! he bellowed.
Dust filtered down, rock began to shift. Cold laughter echoed out across the hall. Ferro scrambled back, heels kicking at the smooth stone, and she ran. Her broken hand shuddered over the wall of the tunnel, her broken arm dangled. A square of light came jolting towards her. The door of the Makers House.
She tottered out into the air, stinging bright after the shadows, the thin rain warm after Tolomeis freezing touch. The Seed still weighed heavy in her shirt, rough and comforting against her skin.
Run! came Bayaz voice from the darkness. To the palace! Ferro tottered across the bridge, clumsy feet slipping on wet stone, cold water lurching far below. Put it in the box, and seal it tight! She heard an echoing boom behind her, metal clashing against metal, but she did not look back.