by Ian Irvine
Powerful lanterns illuminated the wreckage. Two soldiers headed for it while others moved towards the edges of the clearing. Ullii crept away and, climbing a slender tree, little more than a sapling, took refuge in its canopy. It was so small they would never look for an enemy there. She had to stay close; she could not leave her brother.
The soldiers had set up their lanterns on poles and some began to quarter the clearing while others moved into the forest.
'Here's one,' someone called, bending over the still form of her brother. 'Hey! It's the black-haired seeker. He's dead.'
Dead! As the word echoed through her skull, Ullii almost fell out of the tree. Mylii was dead; she could no longer deny it. The leaves rustled and a man cried out, 'There's someone in the forest!'
The grimly efficient soldiers searched everywhere. They found more bodies: one of the soldiers from the first air-floater, then the dead in the wreckage. Ullii clung desperately to the trunk, fighting down an impulse to scream.
Finally the clearing was secured and the captain called up to the hovering air-floater, 'It's safe. There's no one about. It was just the wind.'
Someone shouted back, 'They're coming down. Stand to attention.'
Ropes whirred through pulleys and a big man in robes was lowered in a suspended chair.
Ullii choked, recognising him now. It was Chief Scrutator Ghorr, and he made a barbed, tangled knot in her lattice. She remembered Ghorr from the visit to Nennifer months ago. He had shown nothing but contempt for her. 'Scurry away, little mouse,' he'd said sneeringly. But subsequently Ullii had done what had never been done in the history of the world. She had used her lattice to get Irisis out of her cell without breaking the spell on the lock or setting off the alarm, and Ghorr's rage had shaken the foundations of Nennifer. Ullii was more afraid of him now, for she knew he wanted that secret even if he had to tear it out of her living body.
The air-floater swung in a gust, causing the rope to sway back and forth like a pendulum. The rotor roared as the terrified pilot tried to regain position but, before she could, Ghorr was dragged through the spiny upper branches, tearing his silken shirt to shreds. Bunches of hard leaves slapped him in the face, releasing a pungent oil that brought tears to his eyes.
'What the devil are you doing, Pilot?' he bellowed. 'Put me down, quick smart, or you'll go to the breeding factory!'
Soldiers ran back and forth, anxiously holding up their lanterns. Ghorr cleared the trees, though his shirt remained hanging from the spines. The pulley-man lowered him precipitously, whereupon two burly men ran to catch him as he swung across the clearing, cursing in a voice as much alarmed as furious.
Ghorr shook them off and wiped away the mortifying tears. His chest proved unexpectedly flabby, while the great belly was held in by a tightly-laced corset. One of the soldiers sniggered. Ghorr spun around furiously but could not identify the miscreant.
'My cloak!' he snapped.
It was tossed down at once. Pulling it around him he stalked off, wounded in dignity, to examine the crashed air-floater.
Two other scrutators came down in the hanging chair, the black-bearded, snake-eyed Fusshte and a cold, dumpy old woman whose name Ullii could not recall, though she remembered her knot in the lattice. She was just as hard and corrupt as the men.
The three scrutators gathered around the air-floater, inspected the dead then came to stand by Mylii. Lanterns flared brightly. One of the soldiers turned the body over.
Stabbed in the back' Ullii heard. See the knife wound here — it went straight into his heart."
Ghorr gestured for silence while he held his hands out, parallel to the ground muttering under his breath as he strained to perform some mancery. Fusshtes black eyes glittered in the lantern light.
'Flydd was here,' said Ghorr after a long interval.
'And he murdered the seeker so they could get away,' murmured Fusshte.
'He may have ordered it,' said the woman, 'but he did not do it. And since Ullii would not have killed her brother, it can only have been that black-hearted villain, Cryl-Nish Hlar.'
Ullii wept silently. It was as if the knife had been twisted in her own heart. Nish must really hate her. But why? She'd done everything he'd asked of her.
After so much trauma, Ullii would have fled,' said Ghorr.
'The body's growing stiff,' said Fusshte. "They're long gone, and without our seeker we'll never find them. We should have killed Flydd while we had him.'
'We'll wait for daylight,' said Ghorr. 'It won't be long now. Then we'll look for tracks. Since we've lost our seeker, we must find Ullii. I'll use her to hunt down Flydd and Cryl-Nish Hlar, and this time they must be executed on the spot.'
'What about the air-floater?' asked Fusshte.
'The artificers say it can be repaired, though it'll need a new rotor and controller crystal. We'll send a team back to fix the damage.'
And the dead?'
'Burn them.'
Ullii clung desperately to her tree as the bodies were dragged into the centre of the clearing like worthless pieces of rubbish. Ghorr crouched by Mylii for a moment, though Ullii could not see what he was doing. He stood up, gestured, and the soldiers piled faggots, branches and logs on top. It was all happening too quickly. She couldn't cope. She hadn't said goodbye to Mylii, taken care of his body, washed him or brushed his hair It was agony to watch, but neither could she cover her eyes.
A burning brand was thrust into the centre. The dry wood blazed up and within minutes the pyre was a mass of flame from one end to the other. The stench of burning flesh made her insides shudder.
The sun rose through the smoke. When the light was strong enough, the soldiers and the two scrutators crisscrossed the forest before picking up Flydd and Nish's tracks, heading north. The vile Fusshte was following another trail, which meandered like an ant walking across a piece of paper. It was the path Ullii had taken in her initial flight, though she did not recognise it. She had no memory of that time, nor ever would have.
The air-floater went after the two scrutators and disappeared from sight. Ullii dared not move, though she was now faint with thirst and hunger. The baby kicked feebly. Some hours later, Fusshte reappeared, tracking back. He began going through the forest in a series of parallel lines, methodically inspecting the ground and the trees. She felt sure he was going to discover her.
Fusshte came closer, studying marks on the bark of a nearby tree, claw gouges from some climbing animal. He turned to the northern sky, cocking his head as if listening for the return of the air-floater. Hearing nothing, he kept to his tracks, this time passing right by her sapling. Ullii prayed that she had left no marks on the bark.
Fortunately the ground was stony here. Ullii did not breathe as he went by, and Fusshte must have thought the sapling too small to bear her, for he did not look up. Soon he disappeared.
The day wore on. The fire died to ash and embers, though a stench of burnt flesh and hair lingered. Ullii remained where she was. Near dusk, the air-floater landed in the clearing. The three scrutators conferred on the ground for some little while, climbed in and it took off, heading south, as the sun plunged below the smoky horizon.
After an hour, when they were tar away. Ullii judged it was safe to come down. The moon had not yet risen but the starlight was more than enough for her eyes. The pyre no longer smoked. The fire had burned itself out.
She circled around the oval patch of ash, marked here and there with elongated humps, the ash-grey residue of the bodies. Something caught her attention, tangled around a white stick a few steps away from the pyre. It was a clump of long black hair, a few dozen strands torn from Mylii's head as they'd dragged him across.
Ullii reached out with a fingertip. The strands were as silky soft as her own hair. As she touched it, the place in her lattice that had once held his knot flared and faded. She shivered, then carefully freed the lock of hair and tied it around her throat.
Returning to the pyre, Ullii went to the place where her twin had b
een laid, staring at the dimly lit ridge of ash. She could not believe that Mylii was gone — that this was all there was of him.
Stepping into the warm ash, she began to sweep it away from around the ridge with her fingertips. The ash slipped through her fingers but there wasn't a grain in it. Where Mylii's head and body had been, the fire had burned so hot that even the bones had gone.
She flung the ash this way and that, crying for her brother. Then, on a rock not far away, the silver bracelet glinted in the starlight. It must have been pulled from his wrist as they dragged Mylii across. She picked it up, holding it in her cupped hands, and caught the scent of her brother on it. It was all there was left of him.
Cradling the bracelet to her breast, she wept her heart out. There was no longer any doubt that he was dead. Mylii was gone forever and she was all alone in the world.
The moon came up. Ullii was still sitting by the pile of ash, nursing the bracelet, utterly bereft. As the light slanted down into the clearing, her thoughts became increasingly bitter.
Nash must have murdered Mylii to show how much he hated her. Everything he'd done since making her pregnant in the balloon had been designed to hurt her. Nish was a cruel man and must be punished.
The baby kicked, sending a sharp pain through her overstretched bladder. Ullii looked into her lattice and, for the first time, saw the infant's tiny knot. It was beautifully regular and symmetrical, the way Nish's might have looked, if he'd had a talent. Wonderingly, she traced the curves, in and out, over and under, around and back, until she knew them perfectly.
The baby kicked again, and the knot trembled. The child was distressed, for Ullii had not eaten or drunk for a day. Food and drink were not even on her horizon. She was thinking that, though he obviously hated her, Nish had wanted the child.
The contradiction confused her. She stroked the bracelet, breathing in the fading scent of her brother. It was the only thing linking her to Mylii now. Wanting to fix that link, she slipped the bracelet over her hand and snapped down the catch. At first it was loose on her slender wrist, but then the links slithered together and it became so tight she could not slide her little finger underneath.
The baby kicked her bladder, three times in a row, and this time it really hurt. She touched the bracelet for comfort but saw an image of the three scrutators — Ghorr, Fusshte and the evil old woman — standing over her as if she were lying on a table. Ghorr turned to Fusshte, whispering in his ear, then they laughed.
Ullii cried out in horror and the baby began to kick furiously, doubling her over until she was on her hands and knees on the ground. She rolled onto her back, her hands on her belly, which seemed to calm the baby. Lying still, she changed her lattice so the child's knot filled her mind, mentally caressing the surfaces, which were as soft, as silky as her brother's hair. Mylii's face came to her, but as a child, and Ullii lost herself in memories of the time they had been little twins together, the pale and the dark, so perfectly matched.
The complement of each other When they had been perfectly happy.
She could hear their chidish chatter, their happy cries, but a sharp throb low down drove the memories away. 'Mylii' she gasped, clasping the bracelet in panic, but again came that flash of the scrutators.
Come to us, little seeker, mouthed Ghorr. We've work for you.
'Leave me alone,' she said aloud. 'My baby needs me.'
Baby? Ghorr said to the others. She can't have a baby — it'll ruin her precious talent.
She must have dreamed that, for the next instant they were gone, as if she'd only imagined it; then gone completely, her memories of the moment wiped clean.
Mylii wasn't there either, but that awful screaming rang in her ears again. She reached out to the baby's knot, for the screaming seemed to be coming from there. An agonising pain, far worse than the baby's kicks, sheared through her belly. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to protect the baby, but the pain grew until it was like barbed hooks tearing through her.
Ullii made a supreme effort to reach beyond the pain but the barbs ripped through her flesh and she felt a great convulsion inside her, a shearing agony, as if the baby's sharp fingernails were tearing desperately at the walls of her womb. Something burst inside her, then water gushed out between her legs, carrying the baby with it.
'No!' Ullii screamed, falling to her knees and clawing at the ground, but it was too late.
The baby, a little boy no longer than her hand, lay in a puddle, kicking feebly. She picked him up, staring at him in wonder. He was pink and healthy, and so beautiful that she felt a flush of love, but as she nursed him in her hands, the cord stopped pulsing and her stomach contracted again and again to expel the afterbirth. Ullii lifted the baby to her breast.
'Yllii. Your name is Yllii,' she said, as if that could protect him.
She desperately wanted him to live, for it was the only happy link left between her and Nish, the only good memory of their time together, and she loved him so. Yullii gave one feeble suck, a little sigh, but his head fell away from the nipple and blood from his mouth trickled down breast. Ullii tried to blow the breath back into the infant but the pink colour faded steadily from his face. The baby breathed no more. Yllii was dead — her grief for her brother must have killed it, and it was all Nish's fault. He'd taken away everything good in her life.
Ullii felt a terrible, aching loss, but that was replaced by the most bitter fury at what Nish had done to her. A rage that could only be assuaged when he had suffered the way she, and Mylii, and little Yllii had.
Twenty-Four
Ullii dug a hole through the remains of the pyre, lined it with ash taken from the place where Mylii had lain, so that it made a grey blanket over the dry earth, then placed the tiny body of her baby inside. It was blue now, and even in the moonlight she could tell that he was not at peace. His fists were clenched, his toes curled, his eyes wide and his mouth blood-dark.
My poor little Yllii, she thought. You never did anything wrong. Why did you have to die? Ullii covered the tiny eyes and arranged the clump of Mylii's hair over the top, protectively. She tried to put the bracelet in too, but it would not come off. It was locked to her wrist. There was not a trace of Mylii's scent left on it; it had no sense of him at all. She filled in the hole and covered it with stones so that nothing could dig her baby up, continuing until the place was covered by a flat-topped cairn as high as her waist. Then, finally, Ullii broke down. Turning her face away, she began to walk blindly.
She woke with an ache in her belly that was more than hunger. Ullii had not eaten in days, but that was not the worst of it. Her empty womb was throbbing. She had failed in her duty to protect her child.
Ah, but who made you do it? The voice was a whisper in her head, a rich burr that reminded her of Mancer Flammas, who had let her live in his dungeon for five years, and never once harmed her. His kindly indifference meant more'to Ullii now than the professed friendship of Irisis and Flydd, or the supposed love of Nish. Their words had been empty, and in the and they had betrayed and abandoned her. Only Flammas had never let her down.
You were out of your mind with grief, came the voice again, fever having heard voices before, she assumed it was Flammas talking to her. You can't be blamed for protecting yourself. You loved your baby, despite the father.
I did love Yllii. I would have done anything for him. He was the only good thing that ever came from Nish.
Cryl-Nish is the very devil himself. He is evil incarnate, just like his father, and if you don't stop him he'll destroy the whole world.
'No!' she cried aloud, remembering Nish's many little kindnesses back at the manufactory, on the journey in the balloon, and fleeing from Tirthrax.
Cryl-Nish just lives to destroy everything good.
'What about that time in the balloon, when he saved me from the nylatl, and then I saved him? When we made our love in the balloon afterwards? He was the kindest, gentlest lover in the world.'
He wasn't in danger at all. H
e just did it to get his way with you. He used you from the very beginning.
Ullii knew that wasn't true, for she'd seen the look of terror on Nish's face as he clung, weaponless, to the ladder with the nylatl crouched over him. It had roused her protective instincts and she'd attacked the creature so furiously that it had scuttled away. But on the very first few times they'd met, Nish had manipulated her so she would cooperate in the search for Tiaan and the amplimet. He'd done it kindly, thoughtfully, but also because it was the only way to get what he wanted.
You see, said the voice that was so like Mancer Flammas, that's how clever he is. Cryl-Nish doesn't have to be a monster — he knows that you catch more wasps with syrup than with gall. Everything he's done since you met, every single thing, has been to get what he wants from you. He's even wickeder than his father. Everyone thinks he's just a bumbling fool, and it's the perfect disguise. It even fooled you.
'No!' she cried. 'Not Nish.' She put her hands over her ears. 'It's not true.'
The voice came through just as loud and clear. It is true, and you know it.
Why would he do this to me.’
He wants to take over the world and corrupt it in his own image. And only you can stop him.
'I can't do anything.'
You must. He's fooled everyone except you. You have to save the world, Ullii. No one else can.
'Why should I?'
Because you're good, and it's your duty.
'I don't care about duty.'
But you must take retribution for Cryl-Nish's wickedness, or little Yllii will never rest in his grave.
She began to cry. 'Go away. Don't torment me.'
The only way out is to do as I say. Stop Cryl-Nish, and then Yllii will be at peace, and so will you. You can have peace forever, if you wish it.
'But what am I to do?'
First you must eat and get back your strength.
'There's nothing to eat. They took the food in the air-floater.'
Look over there, at the edge of the forest! See the ears sticking up? It's a hare, and you've been still so long it's forgotten you're here. Bend down, slowly. Pick up that egg-shaped stone.
