Tetrarch

Fear tickled her throat. 'How long will they take to get here?'

'Couple of hours; no more.'

It was not enough; the tests weren't finished. 'You'll have to stall them, Nixx.'

'Can't do it, marm. They'll torture my family if I try. You can't ask that of me.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Run, as fast as I can.'

'Where to?'

'We have a hiding place.' He hesitated. 'An overgrown lava tunnel, way down in the forest.'

'How can I get the thapter out of here?' She should have asked that question a long time ago.

'You can't. We had to remove the window to bring it in.' He was looking increasingly jumpy.

'All right,' she said. 'Go. Save yourself. And thank you, Nixx.'

Offering her a sketchy salute, he ran up the steps. She skittered the walker across to the door and barred it, then raced back to the thapter. There was no time to replace the metal skin sections. She strapped them to the back and got on with the testing. If it did not work the first time, she was finished.

Tiaan was still doing the tests when she heard the echoing whine of constructs coming up the road. Only minutes left. She strapped her walker to the side of the thapter. Pulling herself into its seat, she passed a strap around her, took hold of the trumpet-shaped lever, visualised the field and let the energy flow.

Nothing happened. She tried again with the same result. Had she forgotten something? Yes, the hedron was still in its socket in the walker, and the thapter needed it and the ampliment, to fly. As she climbed out to get it, the Aachim began to smash down the front door.

F ORTY-NINE

Nish felt an overwhelming urge to run, but there was nowhere to run to. The horsemen were already melting into the forest. There was just the clearing, Vithis and himself.

'Get down,' said Vithis. 'Send your stolen horse away. You will not be needing it again.'

Nish did so. The horse trotted off.

'Come here.' Vithis leapt to the ground.

Nish came to within an arm's reach of the intimidatingly tall Aachim, who held up his palm. He carried no cane now and the limp was gone. He seemed calmer than before.

'After your previous behaviour, you dared return to my lands?'

'These are not your lands. You're an invader.'

'Force makes them mine,' said Vithis, standing close and looking down on Nish. 'No one has dared oppose me.'

Nish was used to intimidation; his father had done that to him all his life. He had developed a technique to deal with it – he imagined his father failing at what he most wanted. So, what did Vithis most desire, and fear he would never get? A homeland for his people? It gave Nish strength. 'We will dare, should it be necessary! But we know Aachim to be human too.'

'I would not have thought it from the way you behaved the other day, Marshal Hlar.'

'I am no marshal,' said Nish.

'Indeed! Your speech revealed you to be a most common man.'

'I merely reflected your own character back at you,' Nish said coldly. 'If you do not like what you hear, look into your own soul.' He was risking his life, but every word the man said was a wrongness and a goad.

Vithis seemed to grow even taller. 'I could tear you apart with my naked hands.' He held them out and the impossibly long, curving fingers could have spanned Nish's throat.

'It would only carve the bitterness deeper into your heart.'

Vithis whirled and stalked away. Why had he come? Nish had nothing of any use to him. Or was he just looking out for Minis? There were other Aachim in the thapter, and someone behind the javelard in the turret at the back, but it was pointed at the ground. This was between Vithis and him.

'Why do you seek to corrupt my foster-son?' said the Aachim from some distance.

How much did Vithis know? Maybe everything. Nish saw no point in lying, though he was not necessarily going to tell the whole truth either. 'Minis sought me out,' said Nish. 'We talked. I liked him and we both wanted the same thing.'

'And that was?' Vithis said dangerously.

'To prevent a new war, and end this one that has been going on for generations.'

'We care nothing for your war.'

'Only barbarians could be indifferent to our suffering.'

Nish expected an explosion but it did not come. The Aachim was looking at him thoughtfully. Maybe his defiance had earned a grudging respect.

'Your suffering is insignificant compared to our own. We have lost a world; Minis and I have lost our entire clan – all twenty thousand of First Clan.'

'Why is it called First Clan?'

'Because civilisation was founded on our hearthstone. We built the first city on Aachan. We invented writing, and the wheel, and were the first to discover the Art. We lifted the other clans up from the dirt.'

Nish wondered if the other clans would agree, and how intense their rivalry really was. Perhaps humanity could make use of that.

'What about Clan Elienor? I've heard that they too have a noble history.'

'I have nothing to say of Elienor. They are not of the Eleven Clans. Some of us doubt that they are true Aachim at all.'

'Minis also lost his clan, yet he can still find room in his heart to care about humanity.'

'All Minis wants is to serve his father and do his duty to clan and kind. No Aachim could desire anything else.'

Nish shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. 'Of course you're right. What do I care?'

The Aachim's fingers went down on Nish's shoulders, as hard as iron claws. 'What did my son ask of you?'

'He felt,' said Nish, 'after I had told him my tale, that if anyone could find the flying construct it would be me. Because I know Tiaan well, and because I am courageous and resourceful.'

'I would have said incompetent yet boastful! What did he plan to do with the flier once he had it?'

'Give it to his foster-father, of course.'

The fingers relaxed. 'Minis is a dutiful son. I don't know enough about you, Cryl-Nish Hlar, though I have made many enquiries. Sit down. Be at ease.' He signalled to the construct and a man came forth carrying a cloth and a basket.

Nish sat in the shade of a spreading tree and his racing heart slowly steadied. Perhaps Vithis did not mean to harm him after all. Vithis questioned him on every detail of the past months and the dark eyes never left his face. Nish felt as though the man was reading him.

Nish answered truthfully, though not with the same candour as to Mira. Poor, sad Mira. He could not shake that night from his mind. He could not blame her either.

'Hmn,' the Aachim said at the end. 'A fine set of answers! And even if half of them are true, there is something about you, and it agrees with what others have told me. You are resourceful and have a certain rodent-like cunning. I think I will use you after all.'

The word 'use' had an unpleasant ring to it. 'What for?' Nish's voice squeaked as he spoke.

Vithis gave him an amused glance. 'I'm going to take you with me.'

'As what?' said Nish. 'A tame human?'

'I concede to Minis's judgment. You know Tiaan better than we ever could. You will help him search for her and the flying construct. Go up.'

Nish climbed the side of the construct, marvelling at the workmanship, so superior to anything he had seen in the manufactory. The unpainted skin of black metal was polished to such a brilliant shine that he could see his face in it. Such elegant curves could never have been shaped in the manufactory. The joins could hardly be seen.

Vithis handed him inside. Nish recognised a kind of controller lever, though nothing like the ones the clankers used. On the binnacle, glass plates glowed and coloured patterns flowed across them. He wondered if they were projections of the field.

'Go down,' said Vithis.

Nish descended the ladder, finding at the bottom an open space shaped like the inside of an egg. Benched seats might have accommodated as many as ten occupants, crammed together, though at present the space was empty.

The gentle hum that had been in the background all the time swelled to a whine and the construct accelerated smoothly. Nish sat on one of the benches and closed his eyes. He had survived yet again. Someone must be looking out for him. He did not even have the strength to admire. He woke having no idea where he had been taken, or what time it was. The construct was stationary, silent. Nish climbed the ladder. Vithis was not at the controller and the hatch was open. The construct rested on the ground in the middle of a copse. Beyond, through the trees, Nish made out a glade in whose centre stood a circular wall of cut stone, tapering toward its broken top – the simplest of towers.