‘You must find your … your …’ It almost choked Tali to say the forbidden word aloud. ‘You must find your gift, and master it. It’s the only way to beat him.’
The sucked-in mouth twitched. ‘You haven’t found it, have you?’
‘I’ve tried,’ Tali said grudgingly, ‘but nothing ever happens.’ Her fingers clutched at her frayed waistband. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.’
‘We have three kinds of gramarye,’ said Mimoy, and held up her splintered fingernail. ‘House vi Torgrist — ’
‘How do you know?’ Tali burst out. ‘Who — ?’
The wiry fingers pinched Tali’s lips together until her eyes watered, and held her for a painful minute. ‘I talk, you listen, yes?’
Tali balled her fists, then unclenched them. Had Mimoy come to help her? It must be so. ‘Yes!’ Damn you.
‘The old magery came from our ancestral homeland of Thanneron, now lost beneath the creeping ice, with the First Fleet that brought the Herovians to Hightspall. But none of magery’s three forms worked as well in Hightspall. The land fights it and it grows ever weaker.’
Mimoy turned her head to one side then the other, like a crow watching for a cat.
‘Is that why — ?’
Mimoy raised a hand and Tali broke off, touching her bruised lips. The vicious old woman was her only hope, but any help would be on Mimoy’s terms.
‘A few of the original houses, including vi Torgrist, possessed heritage magery — a subtle gift which can only be mastered by looking within oneself. Wizard training ruins it.’
‘So that’s what I’ve been doing wrong — ’
‘Are you as stupid as you look?’ hissed Mimoy.
Tali looked at her blankly.
‘Is your gift subtle?’
Blowing up Tinyhead’s head could hardly be described as subtle. The thought gave her strength.
‘There’s also traditional magery,’ Mimoy continued. ‘The study and practice of the lore under a master.’
Clearly, Tali did not have that branch of magery, either.
‘And finally, magery that comes from the use of enchanted objects. Spells any fool can set off.’
Tali had never seen an enchanted object. If there were any in Cython, their owners kept them well hidden. And that meant -
‘You may speak,’ said Mimoy.
‘If there are three kinds of magery, and I have none of them … I don’t understand.’
Taking Tali’s head between her wire claws, Mimoy pressed the blade-beak nose against Tali’s nose and stared into her eyes.
Tali tried to glare back but the pressure of Mimoy’s will was, like water squirting from a break in the Siphons, enough to wash her away. Turn aside, the eyes said. Don’t take me on, you little fool.
I may be young but I’m not a fool. And I won’t be beaten by you. Tali raised her chin and forced herself to meet Mimoy’s old eyes, to hold her gaze.
After a few seconds, the old woman drew back. ‘Stronger than I thought,’ she said grudgingly. ‘But are you strong enough?’
‘Yes, I am,’ said Tali, and the strength that Mimoy had drained away at the beginning came surging back. ‘I’m going to beat Tinyhead. I’m going to escape and punish the people who killed my mother — every one of them.’
‘Brave words,’ sneered Mimoy, ‘but how are you going to get away from the matriarchs?’
‘What have they got to do with me?’
With a disgusted snort, Mimoy turned and headed for the door. ‘Useless after all.’
Tali watched her go, not understanding. ‘Wait,’ she cried, realising that the old woman had given up on her. ‘Where are you going? Don’t leave me — ’
Mimoy turned and struck Tali across the face. ‘Never beg!’
She rubbed her stinging cheek. ‘I’ve never even seen the matriarchs. Why do they want me?’
‘Wil the Sump told you.’ Mimoy dripped scorn. ‘Have you no brains at all?’
‘He called me the one. What did he mean by that?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘How could I know? I’m not psychic.’
‘It means,’ gritted Mimoy, ‘that after many years of searching, the matriarchs finally know the name of the girl they failed to kill as a child. The girl they have to see dead, immediately and secretly. You.’
Tali choked. ‘They want me dead. Why?’
‘Because of a shillilar. A foretelling.’
‘Then why didn’t Tinyhead kill me in the subsistery?’
‘He serves another master.’
Tali was struggling to process this. ‘So I have two separate enemies. The matriarchs want to kill me here, and our family’s enemy wants to hack my head open in the cellar.’
‘Your snail’s intellect has finally grasped the danger.’ Mimoy looked down at her tiny, twisted feet. ‘I suppose you’ll have to do.’ She turned away.
‘Why do the matriarchs want to kill me?’ said Tali, more confused than ever.
‘To prevent the shillilar coming true, of course.’
‘What did it say?’
‘How would I know? It’s a secret.’ Mimoy hobbled towards the door.
‘Wait. What about my gift? I’ve got to practise the spell.’
‘No, you haven’t.’
‘I can’t escape without it.’
‘Can’t you?’
‘What are you saying?’ cried Tali, but Mimoy, who was wincing with every step, did not answer. ‘When will we next meet?’
‘Before dawn,’ said Mimoy.
‘Where are you taking me, anyway?’
‘I’m not taking you anywhere. You’re taking me.’
‘Where?’
Mimoy cracked her knuckles and the finger light vanished. In the sudden darkness Tali heard the latch being raised.
‘Home to Hightspall, to die,’ came the old woman’s voice, moving away, and the naked longing in her voice brought tears to Tali’s eyes.
‘But I can’t find my magery — ’
Mimoy was gone.
CHAPTER 19
Wherever you run, wherever you hide, I’ll find you.
But how was Tinyhead following her down these tunnels floored with clean, hard stone? Magery was an insult to their lost kings and no Cythonian would think of doing it.
Turning aside, she fled down one random passage after another, running until her knees went wobbly, yet twenty minutes later he was behind her again. Without a weapon she could not hope to beat him, and their masters were careful to lock away anything that might be used as a weapon. That only left one thing.
Since Tali’s gift was not any of the three old kinds of magery, there must be a new magery, but where did it come from and why had it come to her? Was that why her family were targeted by killers from Hightspall? It did not make sense. How could outsiders know about magery in some insignificant slave trapped in Cython, and why would they care?
After passing down a broad passage, she slipped into an unlit cross-tunnel and waited on hands and knees. And soon he came, down on all-fours, sniffing the floor like a dog. He moved into a patch of light and she caught a flicker of white. Not sniffing — he was licking the floor with that repulsive tongue. Tracking her by her taste! She could hear him breathing, and a thick slurping as he licked, swallowed, licked again.
The soles of Tali’s feet crept. The horrible, disgusting brute.
After backing away down the tunnel, she slipped the front and back sections of her loincloth off its waist cord and bound them around her feet, hoping that Lifka’s stronger odour would confuse him. Tali hurried away, feeling tainted.
She had to concentrate on her plan though, without magery, how could she hope to impersonate Lifka? When she failed, she would be mutilated and beheaded. But there was no other way — or was there? Tali began to think the unthinkable.
Tinyhead knew a secret way out of Cython, and if anyone could elude the matriarchs, he could. If she allowed him to catch her, he would take her to the cellar. But what if she couldn’t find her gift on the way? No, the risk was too great. She had to keep going. If she failed, at least she would have done her best.