She knew that, but it did not help her mood. Irisis had the urge to destroy what she could not save. ‘It isn’t good enough, scrutator.’
He did not answer. All was silent. After a minute or two, she began to fear that he had abandoned her.
‘Xervish?’ she said softly.
Nothing.
‘Xervish, I’m … I’m sorry. I can’t take this.’
‘Just be quiet, will you. I’m trying to work it out.’
‘What?’ she whispered, relief flooding her. Of course he would not abandon her. They were friends and she had saved his life.
‘The holding spell. I think I know what it is.’
‘Can you break it?’
‘I might be able to. There’s a problem, though.’
She waited for him to elaborate. There were some tiny scratchings at the door but nothing else.
‘What problem, Xervish?’
‘If the spell is broken, it sends an alarm to the person who set the spell. To Ghorr.’
‘And you can’t break that?’
‘Not without alerting him.’
‘Then there’s nothing you can do.’
‘I’d say not.’
‘Oh well. You tried.’
‘Not much comfort.’
She wanted him gone. If he could do nothing, there was no point him being here, risking himself. She did not want him hanging around just for her sake. ‘Off you go then.’
‘I –’ He seemed disconcerted. ‘All right. I’ll be on my way.’
‘Goodbye.’ Just go, dammit.
‘I’m sorry, Irisis,’ he said softly.
She did not answer.
It was, unquestionably, the most despairing night of her life. Irisis did not take too well to bondage or helplessness. Ghorr appeared early in the morning. The clicking of the latch woke her. She felt as if she’d just got to sleep.
He entered the room. It was a room, not a cell. Ghorr was smiling. ‘I see you had a visitor during the night.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said coldly.
‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Irisis. I haven’t got to where I am without knowing everything that goes on, both within my domain and without. I can read when Flydd arrived, what he tried to do and when he left again. It’s enough to have him dismissed from the Council and put under a sentence of death.’
‘Then why don’t you?’
‘I’ve work for him to do first. Work I daren’t risk another scrutator on. Come, we must talk some more.’
‘I am happy to talk,’ she said, ‘though I don’t think that is what you have in mind at all.’
‘What I have in mind, Crafter Irisis, is the employment of certain techniques I have developed, to recover the truth from those who have lost it. Or refuse to give it up.’
FIFTY-TWO
Nish and Minis spent the best part of a week going through all the spies’ reports and studying maps of the path Tiaan had taken after assaulting the Aachim camp. Subsequently they went out searching in Minis’s construct, with an escort of three others. For another week they slid along the western edge of the vast Worm Wood, investigating sightings, most of which turned out to be hoaxes or natural phenomena. They found nothing, though, because of accidents and breakdowns, Nish learned more than a little about construct artificing. The fields they drew on were weaker than on their home world, and that caused many problems.
They returned to the main camp, currently in northern Almadin, to confess their failure. Having twice been called to account by a furious Vithis, Nish was dreading their next meeting. When a runner summoned him to the command tent, he felt sure he was going to suffer, but Vithis turned out to be in a rare good humour.
‘Gilhaelith, the mancer and trader who dwells on Booreah Ngurle, has just been snatched by a band of lyrinx,’ said Vithis.He did not say how he knew. ‘Do you have any idea why?’
‘I’ve never heard of him,’said Nish.
‘It may not have anything to do with the flying construct,’ Minis said carefully. ‘Maybe the lyrinx want to use him in their own work.’
‘Flesh-forming!’ Nish said with a shudder. The very idea repelled him.
‘It’s probably nothing, but you’d better take another look at Booreah Ngurle,’ said Vithis. ‘Keep me informed. Don’t go near Nyriandiol.’
Booreah Ngurle could not be reached directly from the west, the Worm Wood being too dense and rugged for constructs. They followed a winding path east along the rim of Warde Yallock, through a land of volcanic peaks, vertical escarpments and rift valleys tangled with scrub. The surrounding country was so rough that much was accessible only on foot, and would have taken tens of thousands of soldiers to search thoroughly. Beyond the eastern end of the lake, they picked up the Great North Road and followed it south to the point where the track turned off to Booreah Ngurle.
Nish and Minis left the construct in dense forest on the lower skirts of the mountain, with its guard, and continued on foot, taking a curving route up the side. During the afternoon, Minis stopped by a shrub that was bent sideways as if something heavy had gone over it. Further up the slope, another lay flat to the ground, though still living.
‘Curious,’ said Minis, ‘but it could have been a horse or other large animal.’
‘An animal would have gone around. Look, there’s a broken branch.’ Nish pointed up the slope.
The trail led to the mouth of a cave, an old lava tunnel. On a projecting rock Nish found distinct scrape marks.
‘Again, it could have been an animal,’ said Minis.
‘It’s got a mighty hard skin, then. No, something was carried this way, weeks ago. Let’s see where it came from.’
They backtracked down through the forest and after hours of searching found deep indentations in a pair of fallen, rotting trees. ‘There’s only one way they could have got there,’ said Nish. ‘Something big and heavy fell from the sky, and it had the shape of a construct. Gilhaelith was lying. He’s got it up there. Or had it – the lyrinx probably have it now.’
‘I hope she’s all right.’ Minis’s eyes were ablaze.
Nish fought an internal battle. He no longer wanted Vithis to get the flying construct, but it was too late to do anything about that, so he might as well get some credit.
‘Let’s go up and find out.’
‘Foster-father must first be told.’
‘If you take the time, you’ll lose her,’ said Nish.
Minis wavered, but only for a moment. ‘Father expressly forbade me to go to Nyriandiol. I cannot defy him.’
‘It’ll be gone by the time we get back, and so will she.’
It took a day to track Vithis down, for he had taken a contingent to the south-eastern tip of Warde Yallock. Vithis cursed them for not going after her at once.
‘But you forbade me …’ Minis began.
‘You’ve gone past two thousand constructs to find me. You might have used a bit of initiative, foster-son!’
Vithis detached sixty constructs from the fleet and they went full speed to the Burning Mountain, travelling day and night, but it still took a day. As they raced up the winding road, Nish knew they were going to be too late. The rotting bodies out the front, and the barred door, only confirmed it.
‘Break down the door!’ said a grim-faced Vithis.
The chalcedony door proved unexpectedly sturdy; a dozen blows were required to breach it.
‘Search every room, every attic, every cellar,’ Vithis ordered. ‘When I think of that grinning baboon, surring me and seducing you with his talk, foster-son, and all the time he had the construct hidden away here. I’ll destroy him!’
The upper floors proved to be empty, but during the long search one of the Aachim came running up from the basement. ‘There’s a barricaded door on the lowest level, Vithis.’
The Aachim’s face lit up. ‘Smash it in!’
They hurtled down the steps. Nish could not keep up. By the time he reached the door an Aachim was hacking into it with an axe. In between the axe strokes Nish heard a familiar whine.