The mask terrified her, for what was behind it, and what it allowed. Hidden behind it, no horror would be beyond him. ‘There are two,’ she said, and felt a deep foreboding. ‘And another one down near the lift.’
The captain relaxed visibly.
‘Do your business, captain,’ said the perquisitor.
The captain signalled. Soldiers moved forward in pairs, labouring under the weight of crossbows so large and heavy they had to be carried on a body frame. The clankers moved into position, well back from the entrance, two out on either side. Their javelards were trained on the tunnel portal.
The soldiers went in. The pair behind the first held up bright lanterns on poles. The lead soldiers readied their weapons.
‘Come with me, seeker.’ Jal-Nish reached for her hand.
She shuddered, but allowed him to take it. Ullii knew the penalty for disobedience.
‘There’s one!’ a lantern-carrier roared. The leading pair of soldiers fired their curiously shaped crossbows.
The lyrinx screamed, the sound echoing and re-echoing through Ullii’s head. The soldiers fell back to reload their weapons. Another pair took their places.
‘It’s clear down to the lifts,’ someone called.
They pushed forward to the fallen enemy. The lyrinx was dead, its chest a horrible mess. Ullii could smell the blood. She wanted to run away but the perquisitor would not allow her.
‘This weapon was my idea,’ Jal-Nish said conversationally to Ullii. She tried to get away from the body but he held her easily. ‘I thought of it after the disaster at the lyrinx ice-houses. Do you remember that, Ullii?’
She did not want to, but she did. All too well.
‘The enemy are too fast, agile and tough. They are hard to kill, yet one lyrinx can destroy half a troop of soldiers. How can we even the odds, I kept asking myself? And I came up with this answer – a crossbow that shoots not one bolt, but six. The centre one goes where it is aimed and the other five fan out around it. Six chances to kill the beast. If you’re close, they all hit the target. No need to worry about an injured lyrinx getting up again. Clever, eh?’
Ullii could feel a scream building up. She hated violence of any kind.
‘I’m speaking to you, seeker. Answer, or by the powers –’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Very clever.’
‘I had my artificers make one up and it worked so well they’re building five hundred more. A weapon like this could turn the war, seeker.’
‘Yes,’ she said faintly.
They found and killed another two enemy in the tunnels. The new crossbows were deadly here, for once spotted the lyrinx could go only forward or back, and either way they were vulnerable. Their chameleon ability did not help them, since Ullii always knew where they were. Before the end of the day the soldiers had secured the mine down to the seventh level, posting pairs of guards at the entrance to each, and half a dozen on the long tunnel where the creatures had gained entry. They kept going through the night. At sunrise the perquisitor returned to the manufactory. Standing in Flydd’s doorway, he reported with some smugness that the long tunnel had been collapsed, eight lyrinx were dead and the mine was secure.
‘What you failed to do in all your time here, I have done in a day,’ said Jal-Nish from behind his shining platinum mask. He nodded formally to the scrutator, who was sitting at his table. ‘I’m writing my daily despatches to the Council, if you have anything to report …’
Flydd did not reply.
‘I will also be reporting on your crafter’s incompetence.’
‘What are you talking about?’ snapped Flydd. ‘Her controllers are the best we’ve ever had.’
‘If you don’t know, it is another black mark against you. Irisis gets her artisans to do the work she cannot do herself. She is a liar and a charlatan, hardly fit to be called artisan, much less crafter.’
‘Nonsense,’ snapped Flydd.
‘Where are her controllers? We have not seen any in a month.’
‘They only await suitable hedrons.’
‘Tell me,’ Jal-Nish said, ‘who is in charge of ensuring that suitable crystal is always available?’
The trap was sprung. Flydd did not bother to answer.
‘Crafter Irisis has failed and must pay the price.’ The perquisitor went out, then returned. ‘You can come out now.’ He was gone.
The cupboard door swung open and Irisis stepped forth. She looked haunted. ‘I could smell him, Xervish. It got into the cupboard and stayed there. Blood and dead flesh.’
‘And cloves and garlic,’ said the scrutator. ‘He’s addicted to nigah. That’s something I wasn’t aware of.’
‘After he was savaged by the lyrinx, we must have fed him a bucket of the stuff. He was so violent that we had to keep him sedated the whole time.’
‘He’s still in pain and has to take nigah constantly. The addiction is not going to help.’
‘What does it do, apart from taking the edge off pain and cold?’
‘And fatigue. He hasn’t slept for days. I made a study of nigah, once, to see if it was worth the risk.’
‘Was it?’
‘It was, if used carefully. Some mancers take it for the brilliant insights it offers, but addicts eventually lose track of reality and it exaggerates whatever failings they have. In Jal-Nish’s case, I’d expect him to become more paranoid, more angry and more unstable.’
‘That gives us something to look forward to,’ she said.
TWENTY-NINE
Ullii spent all her waking hours underground. The perquisitor had taken charge of the project to find the crystals and since he had little need of sleep, everyone else had to work until they were ready to drop.
Today she was riding down to the mine with Jal-Nish in his clanker. ‘What’s the matter?’ he snapped at the operator, a beardless boy with startlingly blue eyes. ‘Why are we going so slowly? I can walk faster than this.’
The operator was so terrified that he could not look at the perquisitor. The clanker lurched, stopped, lurched again then continued more smoothly. ‘It’s the field, surr,’ he squeaked.
‘What about it?’
‘It … it’s weak today. Much weaker than before.’
‘Go and talk to one of the manufactory operators. Find out how much it changes.’
The clanker kept going.
‘Now!’ roared Jal-Nish. ‘We’ll walk the rest of the way.’
Ullii had traced the source of crystals to a point below the partly flooded ninth level. The miners walled off the place, pumped it dry and began excavating a shaft in the floor. Before they had gone down the height of a man, water began to pour in. The miners scrambled from the hole.
‘It’s beyond us,’ said Cloor, chief miner. ‘The water –’
‘Damn the water, man!’ snarled Jal-Nish. ‘Keep working.’
‘It’s coming in faster than we can pump it out.’
‘Bring in more pumps.’
Soon the area around the shaft was thronged with screw pumps and the many people needed to work them, all gasping and grunting as they pounded their treadmills. They forced most of the water out and the shaft-sinking resumed. A day later it happened again, the water coming in so quickly that it went over the heads of the two miners. One caught the rope that Cloor threw to him and was pulled to safety, but the other miner did not come up.
Cloor was over the side in an instant, to disappear under the roiling water. Ullii held her breath, then his head broke the surface and he waved. The miners pulled and the other man’s head appeared. Someone went down on another rope and between them got the miner over the edge.
He had swallowed dirty water and was taken to the infirmary. Another pump and treadmill was called for. While it was being brought down, Jal-Nish called Overseer Tuniz across and spoke urgently to her. She sketched something on the floor. Perquisitor, overseer and chief miner spoke among themselves.