by Ian Irvine
“No!” Llian said flatly.
“The magiz is the key to everything: saving Sulien, blocking the summon stone and keeping the Merdrun out. And I’m the only person who can get to her.”
“She’ll be expecting you.”
“I don’t have any choice, and if our positions were reversed, you’d do the same.”
His shoulders slumped. He knew she would not give in. “How are you going to do it?”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
Thup-thup, thup-thup.
“What’s that?” said Karan.
“Sounds like it’s up in the air.”
They ran up to the globarium, a tall spiralling tower topped with a half-globe a hundred feet across partly filled with water, with a small pointed island in the middle.
It was breezy here. Karan shook out her hair and it streamed out behind her for two feet. They climbed onto the circular wall. A low range of mountains lay behind them. Ahead, to the east, was the Sea of Thurkad, here twenty-fives leagues across.
“It’s a flying balloon…” said Llian.
As it came closer Karan saw that it was shaped like a fat lozenge with a smaller lozenge attached to its underside. A pair of rotors whirred at the rear and the vessel had a slight asymmetry that gave its makers away. The Aachim never made two objects exactly the same – for them, that would take away the whole point of designing.
“It’s Malien!” Karan cried, taking Llian by the waist and dancing him round in a spiral that took them perilously close to the rim.
She waved furiously, and with her pale face upturned and her streaming red hair she would have been identifiable from a quarter of a mile away. The vessel turned and in a couple of minutes it was hovering over the wall.
“Malien!” Karan yelled.
A door swung open, and framed in it was her kinswoman. Malien tossed down the end of a rope ladder. Karan went up it like a sailor, sprang in and embraced her, then pulled away, watching Llian and biting her lip. He climbed awkwardly, swaying and sweating and missing his footing a couple of times, then froze at the top, not knowing how to get off the ladder.
Malien reached down, wrapped her enormously long fingers around his upper arms and heaved him in.
“Well met, chronicler,” she said. “It’s good to see, in a world in such flux, that you retain all the flaws you had when we first met.”
She was laughing at him, though in a kindly way. They’d had their moments over the years, though Karan knew that Malien, deep down, did like Llian.
Karan pulled the door closed. The cabin was only twenty feet long and eight wide, but the builders had fitted dozens of cupboards into it, all beautifully finished, and every surface was decorated with intricate geometric engravings or carvings of the strange plants and beasts of Aachan.
At the other end, hammocks criss-crossed one another. A dozen Aachim were staring out the oval windows at the city built for their mortal enemy. Karan sighed. She had lived with them for years as she was growing up, and being among them again was like coming home.
But Llian was shifting his weight from foot to foot, and his jaw was knotted. Most of his encounters with the Aachim had been unhappy ones.
“Enough of this terrible city,” said Malien.
She gestured to the helmsman, a bony balding fellow with sagging ears. He worked various levers and the sky ship slipped away.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d come within ten leagues of Alcifer,” said Karan.
“Nor would I, willingly. I was looking for you.”
“How did you know to look here?”
“Three days ago I detected a gate, and Xarah, who has made a science of her art, pinpointed where it originated and where it ended. You remember Xarah?”
A small Aachim, not much taller than Karan, with a pale freckled face and short mustard-yellow hair, and an air of long-felt sadness.
Karan shook hands. “I didn’t know gates could be pinpointed.”
“They couldn’t until now,” said Malien. “And only by an adept with the right training.”
“How did you know we were in the gate?”
“No one has made one on Santhenar in ten years, then suddenly there are two in three days. Who else could be behind them but the two biggest troublemakers I know.”
“Two gates?”
“Another went from Carcharon to Vilikshathûr half a day later.”
“I suppose that was Shand,” said Karan.
“Clearly we have much to talk about,” said Malien.
The helmsman took them up the coast to an uninhabited island a few miles offshore. They set down in a sunny glade where the ground was calf-deep in fallen leaves, and the Aachim prepared a hasty meal of smoked meats and pickled vegetables.
“I can’t believe that the fate of the world rests on the whim of so shallow and narcissistic an old human as Cumulus Snoat,” said Malien after Karan and Llian had brought her up to date. “Truly, your kind is in irretrievable decline.”
Karan scowled. The Aachim took every opportunity to point out their own superiority.
“Seven weeks must have passed since the magiz said eight weeks,” said Llian. “We haven’t got long.”
“Ah!” said Karan.
“What?”
“She lied. Syzygy is almost on us.”
Llian’s breath hissed out through his teeth. “Then we haven’t got a hope of stopping the invasion.”
“Ship coming!” called their lookout, Nimil, a young Aachim with a metal slit in his throat.
“We’ll talk about what to do later,” said Malien quietly. “In private.”
They scrambled up to the watch post, a flat rock topping a pyramid-shaped hill. Nimil was peering north through a brass and green-enamel telescope. Karan made out a dark speck on the sea.
“Ally or enemy?” said Malien.
“Can’t tell.” Nimil’s voice was a squeaky whistle. “It’s racing down the coast, close inshore, keeping out of sight. Could be a smuggler.”
Malien looked through the telescope, and so did Karan, but there was nothing more to be discovered. They returned to the fire.
Shortly Nimil reported a second vessel, several miles north of the first and also heading south. “Biggest ship I’ve ever seen. Flying a purple flag.”
“Purple with a yellow book in the middle?” said Llian.
“Yes.”
“It’s Snoat.”
“What does he want?”
“The manuscript of my Great Tale, of course,” said Llian. “Can you attack him?” he asked Malien.
“What with?”
“Fire arrows? Or barrels of blasting powder?”
“This sky ship is the first of its kind,” she said carefully, “and it was built in great haste. It’s not entirely reliable, which is why we’ve taken so long to arrive. We’ve had no time to design aerial weapons. And fire is strictly forbidden, or the only blast you’ll see will be our disintegration.”
“The small ship is heading for Alcifer Cove under full sail,” called Nimil.
“It’s racing Snoat,” guessed Karan. “I’ll bet it’s some of our allies.”
They reboarded and the sky ship slipped away to the south, keeping behind the island until Snoat’s flagship was no longer in sight, then the bald helmsman took them low over the racing vessel inshore. People ran out on deck, staring up at the sky ship. The Aachim design would have been unmistakeable. Someone waved signal flags, spelling Shand.
“Tell them we’ll set down in the clearing half a mile north of the eastern gate of Alcifer,” said Malien to Nimil, who signalled back.
An hour later the party of eight arrived: first Shand, wincing and holding his injured buttock, then Tallia and Nadiril, Lilis and Yggur, Hingis and Ussarine, and finally Esea, who was far behind and looked ghastly. Had Hingis and Ussarine’s reunion gone too well?
Shand shook everyone’s hands. “We’ve got a chance now, but we’ve got to act fast. Let’s get to work.”
86
/>
WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?
By mid-afternoon, the drumming was pounding in Karan’s head. It would not be long now.
“Snoat’s coming ashore,” a lookout called.
Xarah let out a squawk. Her mustard-yellow hair was standing up. “The flow is rising.”
“From the summon stone?” Shand’s voice was sandpaper on glass.
“That’s what Xarah is monitoring,” said Malien. “How can we assassinate a man who’s so paranoid and so well guarded?”
Shand whispered in Tallia’s ear.
“I don’t like it,” she said, glancing at Llian.
“I think it’s worth a try.”
The drumming was rising as well. “What’s worth a try?” said Yggur, who was sitting quietly in the background. He looked much better than he had at Chanthed.
“Later,” said Shand irritably. He looked around. “Where are Nadiril and Lilis?”
“They went to have a look inside Alcifer.”
“Incredible! You’d think we were on a picnic.”
He assembled a deputation: himself and the two smallest Aachim men. Karan thought they projected an air of weakness. Perhaps that was his intention.
“Go quickly!” said Malien. “Meet him halfway.”
“You have somewhere in mind?” said Shand.
“I’ll show you.” She led them up a little hillock and focused her field glasses. “The road from the quay passes through a lovely garden, then across an island in an artificial lake – there! It’s a beautiful place and Snoat is an aesthete; he’ll be drawn to it. Meet him there.”
Karan’s stomach throbbed; she could only think about Sulien. The magiz could be planning another attack on her right now. She went back and sat next to Llian, who was recording the day in his journal. Malien was ten feet away, her back to a tree and her eyes closed.
“What are they up to?” said Llian.
“I don’t know,” said Karan. “But I don’t like it.”
The afternoon crawled towards sunset. “I can’t bear this,” she said suddenly. “Malien, I’ve got to stop the magiz opening the gate. I have to go back to Cinnabar.”
“You’ve attacked her twice,” said Malien. “You can’t use the transpose spell again.”
“If my gift for mancery was unblocked—”
“You’re too old,” said Malien. “The middle-aged brain is too inflexible.”
“I’m only thirty-six!” Karan snarled.
“It would probably kill you.”
“Every second person I’ve met lately has wanted to kill me, and if the Merdrun get through, Sulien, Llian and I are at the top of their list. Unblock my damned gift!”
“All right!” Malien snapped. “It’ll be worth it to be rid of you.” She sucked in a long breath. “Sorry, I take that back. Give me a quarter of an hour.” She walked away into the trees.
Llian had gone potato white and was breathing in strangled gasps. Karan took his hand, aching to be able to comfort him.
“Last time you went,” he said, “I was sure they’d torture you to death. I can’t take any more, Karan.”
She gave him a watery smile, the best she could manage. “It’s the only way to save Sulien. If… if I don’t come back…” Her voice cracked. “You’re my rock, Llian. You’ve got to be strong, for her sake and mine.”
He took her into his arms. “I’ll do my best.”
“The enemy, they’ll…” She gulped, swallowed a massive lump.
“I’ll find a way.”
“You’ll explain to her, won’t you?” said Karan. “I can’t bear to think—”
“I’ll tell her why you couldn’t answer her calls. She’ll understand.”
Malien reappeared, carrying a round metal box and looking exceptionally grim.
“What’s the matter?” said Karan. “Have you realised that you can’t unblock my gift?” She half hoped for that; it would be an honourable way out.
“No,” Malien said tersely. “I’ve realised that I can.”
“And?”
“Do you remember the day you gave birth to Sulien?”
What a question. It had changed Karan’s life.
“This will be ten times as painful,” said Malien.
“You’d better get on with it then.”
“Getting your gift back could have… consequences.”
“I’ll take the risk,” Karan said recklessly.
Malien took out a strap made of woven wire, with an emerald disc on the front and a black opal disc on the back. She fitted it around Karan’s forehead with the emerald disc in the centre of her brow, then pulled the strap so tight that it hurt, and buckled it. She put a similar strap around Karan’s chest and a third on her right wrist.
“Ready?” said Malien.
“Yes,” Karan said softly. Her eyes slid to Llian, whose fists were knotted in his hair. He was in agony. She swallowed.
Malien touched the emerald disc on Karan’s wrist to the one over her heart, then the one on her brow, and whispered a phrase she did not make out.
Pain sheared through her heart, her skull, her belly, then her limbs, as if torturers were pulling her limb from limb. When it finally passed, and she could sit up, she said, “I can’t feel the power.”
“You don’t have any more power than you did before,” said Malien.
“Why not?”
“Imagine you’re an adult with a gift for music, but you’ve never learned to play. You’d have to practise for years before you could play a complicated piece. It’s the same with mancery.”
“Then what was the point!” cried Llian.
“Before Karan’s gift was blocked she could work simple spells she’d learned as a child. Now she can use them again.”
Llian exploded. “So you’re sending her against the magiz – the greatest sorcerer the enemy have – armed only with kiddie magic?”
“Malien isn’t sending me,” Karan said quietly. “I’m going because it has to be done, so please stop shouting.” She turned to Malien. “I’m worried about returning to Cinnabar via the disembodiment spell. After I used it last time I couldn’t stand up.”
“As I warned you,” said Malien. “But you knew better.”
“Is there another way of sending me to Cinnabar?”
Malien hesitated. “Ordinarily, no.”
“But?”
“It wouldn’t work for anyone else, which is why the enemy haven’t sent anyone to Santhenar. But because you’ve been to Cinnabar three times already, and the path is embedded in you, a physical sending could work, though…”
“It’ll be the most agonising thing I’ve ever experienced,” Karan muttered.
“One of them,” Malien said drily.
“Why don’t you go too?” said Llian. “You could take the magiz on.”
“A sending spell can’t be worked on oneself. That’s why it’s called a sending. I’ll get ready then. My preparations will take a few hours. You might want to…”
“Write my will?” said Karan.
The levity sank without trace. Llian looked on the verge of collapse.
“It’ll be all right,” she said feebly.
“That’s what you said last time!”
They sat together, not talking. Last time Karan had been sick with dread, but she was quite numb now, barely able to feel at all.
As it grew dark, Shand’s party returned. Yggur, who had spent the afternoon at the sky ship, also appeared, though Nadiril and Lilis were not yet back.
“Well?” said Yggur.
“The only envoy Snoat will listen to is Llian,” said Shand. “And only if he brings, as a gift, his Tale of the Mirror.”
Karan reeled. Now, now she could feel. A shriek burst from her. “No, no, no!”
Malien turned to Xarah, who was crouched over a little device with concentric brass rings and sliding pointers mounted on a circular wooden base.
“How is the summon stone now?” said Malien.
Xarah moved one o
f the pointers a fraction. A tiny red crystal at the centre began to flash, faster and faster. “It’s almost ready to bring them through.”
“When the invasion comes,” said Shand, “we can’t be distracted by Snoat. Whatever the cost –” he glanced at Llian, then quickly away “ – he’s got to die tonight!”
Why was he so cold, so indifferent to Llian’s fate? It had to be the drumming, which had driven the allies to fighting and bickering for the past month. “The moment Snoat gets Llian’s manuscript,” said Karan, “he’ll have him killed.”
“We’ve got a plan,” said Shand.
“Why can’t someone else take it?”
“Only Llian can get through to Snoat.”
“Then I’ll be his attendant.”
“What about Sulien?”
“You bloody old bastard! I’ll get you for this.”
Llian stood up. He looked as though he wanted punch Shand in the mouth – and Karan half hoped he would. “You’re sending me off to die, yet you haven’t even bothered to consult me.”
“There wasn’t time,” said Shand, avoiding his eyes.
“Liar! You made this plan hours ago. You don’t give a damn any more, do you?”
“It’s our only hope, Llian.”
“I can see that. That’s why I’m going.”
“No, you’re not!” snapped Karan.
“You didn’t ask my permission about Cinnabar,” Llian said gently. “I have to go because no one else can get to Snoat. What’s the plan, Shand?”
“Your escorts will be Ussarine, Hingis and Esea. Strength and mancery, but the twins won’t use any until after you pass the booby-trapped manuscript over.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Kill Snoat if you can, or injure him so Ussarine can finish him off. Then get the Command device.”
“Why?”
“Snoat used it to divert my gate from Carcharon, and the device will retain that memory. We can use it to remake the gate, open it right next to the summon stone and smash it to bits.”
“You’re mad!” said Karan.
“I dare say, but we’ve got to take the risk,” said Shand.
