by Ian Irvine
‘Show me.’
Maelys drew it out. It was warm in her cold hand. She clenched it in her fist for a moment, for comfort, then passed it to him. ‘It’s a clockwork moon calendar. Its movement was worked by a little crystal but I had to implode it to save you, when the flappeter came.’
Rurr-shyve raised its long head. You made me suffer, little one, and I haven’t forgotten it.
Maelys shivered at the memories, then went on. ‘The aunts said it would help to hide me from the enemy, unless they got really close. They said it also held a secret that I’d need when I got to Hulipont, but I suppose it was lost when I imploded the crystal.’ She looked at him anxiously.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Nish. He studied the taphloid, front and back. ‘It’s a simple little thing.’
Like me, you mean. ‘No, it’s not. Sometimes other faces appear on it briefly, with odd characters and symbols on them, and moving hands, but I never knew what they meant or how to get them back.’
‘Didn’t your father explain it to you?’
‘He just told me to keep it hidden, even from Mother and the aunts. They have no talent, you see. But they found out.’
Nish pressed the taphloid to his forehead and began to walk in a circle around the embers of the camp fire. Every time he went past the flappeter it raised its head, and specks of firelight were reflected in its cluster eyes.
‘My clearsight tells me there’s something here,’ he said at last. ‘Though I can’t say what. I guess it’s protected you by hiding the weak aura your talent creates. That’s how Father hunts down people with talents; at least, those who can’t conceal their aura.’
‘What is your clearsight?’ she asked timidly.
‘It’s hardly anything. Just an ability to see what’s at the heart of things. Truths that have been concealed, things hidden. Unfortunately it doesn’t tell me anything when I turn it upon myself.’ He gave a rueful grin and rotated the taphloid in his hands. ‘My guess is that it’s meant to explain your talent to you, when you’re old enough …’
‘I am old enough!’ She felt a mixture of emotions, among them eagerness and anxiety. ‘Can you read it now?’
He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I don’t think it’s meant to be read by anyone but you.’
‘But how?’
‘You’ll need a crystal that suits the taphloid, I expect.’
‘Your father had them all scried out and destroyed.’
‘Not even my father could scry out all the hidden crystals in the world.’ Nish paused, gnawing at his lip, as if he doubted his own words. ‘Though finding one will be another matter.’
‘Well, if there are hidden crystals, the leaders of the Defiance will have them.’
‘What’s the Defiance? No, let me guess – some rabble who want to forge me into a weapon against my father so as to gain power for themselves.’
‘I’m sure they’re sincere,’ said Maelys tentatively. Now he’d think she was trying to manipulate him again.
‘I’m sure they’re not! I spent the last years of the war among the most powerful and corrupt people on Santhenar, remember? I don’t trust anyone who’s after power, and especially not the hypocrites who claim that they only want it to do good.’
‘But … surely to overthrow your father is a good thing? The people –’
‘I used to think that, but I know better now. It’s the common people who suffer most in a revolution, and no one gives a damn, least of all the scum who are making revolution in their name. Before my father could be cast down, the streets would be ankle-deep in blood, and for what? Just to replace one tyrant with another. Or worse, to plunge Santhenar into a civil war without end.
‘Remember this, Maelys, whenever anyone preaches revolution to you. The worst and most capricious ruler in the world – yes, even my father – is better than civil war, or anarchy. Under my father’s reign, the ordinary people live their lives largely unhindered. They may not be free, but at least they’re safe. But when there’s no one to govern, everyone suffers save the villains.’
FIFTEEN
Maelys was turning over everything Nish had said. The aunts were secretive, calculating and obsessed, but they weren’t fools. If she needed to know about her talent they would have left a way for her to uncover it. Perhaps that’s why they’d sent her to Hulipont, where the Defiance must have mancers who could teach her. Unfortunately that possibility was now closed.
The other alternative was to find a crystal, though the few crystals that had been hidden from the God-Emperor must be incredibly valuable now, and why would anyone waste one on her?
They were flying through misty cloud, its moisture condensing in little droplets on the bristles and spines of the flappeter, and in her hair. Maelys blinked drops off her eyelashes and looked around. Nish was asleep, wrapped in every garment he possessed but still shivering. She couldn’t see anything through the cloud; they might not have been moving at all. Might even have been heading back towards the enemy whom, she felt sure, was still hunting them with the single-minded ruthlessness that had taken Jal-Nish all the way to the top.
She glanced at Nish again. Asleep, he looked younger, and fragile, but she reminded herself that he could be ruthless too. She put her hand in her pocket, where she now kept the taphloid to avoid its chain tangling with the amulet, for the comfort of touching it. It was as dead as before.
Rurr-shyve bucked in a sudden updraught and began to veer left and right, as if unsure which way to go. Maelys hastily hauled the amulet out and clutched it in her fist. The beast looked back at her, snorted, and steadied.
The amulet was warm in her left hand, the taphloid cold in her right. She drew it from her pocket and opened her hands, looking from one to the other. Were the eyes of the amulet a kind of crystal? They glowed faintly, and sometimes the amulet was warmer than it should have been. Occasionally it moved about inside her shirt, so it had to have a source of power. But was it stored power, or sent from the tears?
If sent, she could be in danger whenever she used it or commanded the flappeter with it. Was that how Jal-Nish sent the nightmares and hallucinations? And would she be in greater danger if she tried to use the amulet in another way?
With its legs folded, it might just fit into the taphloid’s crystal compartment. She thumbed the hidden catch, opened the taphloid, then hesitated. If the amulet could link to the tears, putting it in might reveal the taphloid’s secrets to Jal-Nish.
She closed the catch, afraid to take the risk, then opened it. But everything she’d done since she left home had been a risk, and not knowing what her talent was posed another. Making up her mind suddenly, Maelys thrust amulet and thong into the taphloid and closed it. The outline of the tiny door disappeared.
Rurr-shyve’s head whipped backwards, it glared at her then turned sharply left and increased the beat of its feather-rotors. Alarmed, she withdrew the amulet; Rurr-shyve turned back onto its original heading. What could it mean? She wanted to ask Nish but he was still asleep. She put the amulet in. Again the flappeter gave her that look and turned onto the new heading.
Maelys realised that she was breathing hard. Had she given away their location to the God-Emperor, who was now calling the flappeter to him? Or had power from the amulet woken the taphloid and Rurr-shyve was now following its directions, to safety? She had no way of telling.
Logic told her to take the amulet out and never risk bringing it near the taphloid again. Intuition said that this was her only chance and she’d better take it. She weighed the first, immersed herself in the second. Which?
The taphloid was damp with her sweat. She wiped it on her coat, went to withdraw the amulet, then hesitated. It didn’t feel as though Rurr-shyve were carrying her to the enemy.
She would take the risk. She slipped the taphloid back into her pocket.
A few hours later the flappeter broke out of cloud and she saw, ahead and to the right, a substantial town in the valley bottom, dominated by an enormous red and black
citadel whose towers rose to jagged points. Her heart jumped. She’d seen paintings of the God-Emperor’s bastions and this was clearly one of them.
‘I made the wrong choice,’ she said numbly to Nish. He’d woken earlier and she’d told him what she’d done.
He blanched, though he didn’t blame her. Maelys withdrew the amulet but this time Rurr-shyve didn’t change direction. It didn’t react, even when she thrust the amulet through the wisp-controller and shouted at Rurr-shyve to turn away.
Shortly, however, she realised that if it continued on its present path it would pass the town half a league to the left. And it did continue, as straight as a line drawn on a map. They were too far away to see people in the streets, though a large wisp-watcher, mounted on the top of the tower and facing down into the market square, jerked upright as they made their closest approach then rotated to keep them in view as they went by.
To the very end, Maelys expected the flappeter to turn and curve back to the tower, but it kept on, ruler-straight, until town and tower disappeared in the haze behind them.
Only then did she release her death grip on the amulet and turn to Nish, whose knuckles were white against the saddle horn. ‘What does it mean?’
‘I don’t know. Father loves playing with his victims, but I don’t think that’s what he’s doing here. Did you see the way the wisp-watcher jerked? Our coming here was a surprise.’
‘It’s not now.’
Shortly after that they plunged into a valley full of cloud which Rurr-shyve could not climb above. They continued for an hour with the weather steadily deteriorating, into a headwind that grew ever stronger until Maelys had to squint to see at all.
Now they began to encounter vicious updraughts which flung them upwards and sideways so hard that once she was lifted completely out of the saddle and fell back only to find that it was no longer beneath her. Flinging out both hands, she just managed to catch hold of a stirrup and swung there until a white-faced Nish dragged her back. After that she kept her line fastened all the time.
By this time she had no way of telling what heading they were on, for the cloud was so thick that she could no longer tell where the sun was. She began to see fantastic shapes in the mist, like bizarre creatures forming and reforming as she went by. They appeared to turn and watch her out of sight, and she wondered if it was Jal-Nish trying to unnerve her. Had he also begun to assert command over the flappeter?
‘I’m worried,’ she said to Nish. ‘We’ve never spent so long in cloud before. We could be anywhere.’
‘I think we’re still going the same way.’
Maelys wasn’t convinced, but was too tired to argue. Her eyelids drooped. The past days had been exhausting; flying in this weather demanded the utmost powers of concentration even when she wasn’t actively directing the beast. She could feel the strain on Rurr-shyve in every scale and bristle.
Three-quarters asleep, she failed to notice Rurr-shyve twitch convulsively, then cast a calculating glance backwards. Seeing Nish lost in his own world, and Maelys slumped over the saddle horn, it began, ever so slowly, to turn in a broad curve.
The flappeter burst out of the mist into clear air and the red and black citadel was less than half a league away. Maelys, startled awake, let out a shriek, for she could see the soldiers gathered on the flat roof beneath the gigantic wisp-watcher.
‘Nish, quick!’ she wailed. ‘What’s the matter?’ he muttered drowsily.
She shook him awake. ‘It’s that citadel! Jal-Nish must have taken command of Rurr-shyve hours ago.’
He came half out of the saddle. ‘Not from such a distance. It’ll be one of his local seneschals. Fight him or Rurr-shyve will give us up.’
Casting him a nasty look, Rurr-shyve put its head down and streaked for the top of the citadel. Maelys stretched forwards, put the amulet through the wisp-controller and ordered the flappeter to turn back.
Not this time, little one. I answer to a higher power now.
‘Is it … the God-Emperor?’
It made a gurgling chuckle through its breathing tubes. Just his seneschal, little Maelys.
‘Not Vomix?’ she breathed.
A servant most diligent in prosecuting his master’s commands. He’s marked for greater things, is your friend Vomix. This victory will set the seal on it.
‘He’s not my friend.’ Maelys was feeling around in the saddlebags. The dead rider’s blade had been taken from her in the village, and Nish had lost the crossbow there too, but she’d sharpened one of the iron-hard tent pegs to a wicked point. Ah, there it was.
You would be advised to make him your friend once we get there, little one, and do his will in all things. Vomix likes your type and you’ll never have more need of an ally.
She drew out the tent peg, checked to make sure her safety line was tied securely and that there were no frayed patches, then sprang forwards and stabbed the tent peg down into the healed wound, right where she’d threatened Rurr-shyve with severing the other day.
‘Where’s your higher power now!’ she hissed, twisting her free arm through the straps. ‘Turn or I’ll sever you.’
Rurr-shyve bucked so violently that her feet went up above her head. You’ll die if you do. And the Son.
She pulled herself down again, gasping, ‘I’m going to die anyway, so there’s nothing to lose, and at least it’ll be quick.’
What about the Son?
‘It’ll put him out of his misery.’ She felt a physical pain inside her as she said it, but didn’t dare turn to look at Nish. If she wavered now they were doomed.
The thup-thup faltered, but Rurr-shyve continued on. She pressed the point in. The flappeter shuddered and was trying to turn away when Maelys felt words in her head – no, they seemed to be coming through the creature to her. A hissing, mucous-slick voice, terrible in its power. And she recognised it.
FLY ON, RURR-SHYVE. FLY TO THE CITADEL AND TASTE YOUR REWARD.
It was a voice she’d heard twice before, though only once clearly, on the road to market when she was a girl of eleven, and Maelys had never forgotten it. It was Seneschal Vomix. She thrust harder, and Rurr-shyve bucked and twisted sideways, away from the citadel.
FLY TRUE, RURR-SHYVE. BRING THE SEDITIOUS BLASPHEMERS TO YOUR MASTER.
Maelys could tell from Rurr-shyve’s spasm of rage that master had been the wrong word to use, and tried to take advantage of it. ‘I’ll sever you if you do,’ she shouted over the wind, ‘but I’ll never be your master. A flappeter can have no master – with the possible exception of the God-Emperor himself,’ she added hastily, in case Rurr-shyve had a genuine feeling for its creator, though she didn’t think it did. ‘But you, Rurr-shyve, are your own master and always will be.’
Over the pain, she felt its wry amusement. It did not reply, but continued its turn.
TURN BACK, TREACHEROUS RURR-SHYVE, raged Vomix. TURN BACK OR YOU’LL SUFFER THE WORST SANCTION ANY FLAPPETER CAN FACE.
Rurr-shyve kept going, but now Vomix seemed to realise that the rider was the problem, for he turned his attention to Maelys. His words oozed from Rurr-shyve into her mind, and they hurt so much that she cried out.
‘What’s the matter?’ Nish said urgently as she flopped back into the saddle.
‘It’s Vomix, speaking into my mind through Rurr-shyve.’ Her voice broke; the waves of pain were excruciating and she felt an irresistible urge to strike back, any way she could.
‘Don’t answer him, whatever you do.’
OH, HOW YOU’LL PAY WHEN I CATCH YOU. YOU’LL WISH –
She tried to hold back. Maelys tried really hard, and though she seldom lost control of her temper, it was as though something irresistible was urging her on; she couldn’t stop herself. ‘You’ll never take me!’ she screamed, brandishing the amulet at the tower. ‘I’ll die before I come near you, you slimy, stinking cur –’
Nish slapped his hand across her mouth. ‘Stop!’
The voice was lower this time, more slippery-sticky. I KNOW
YOU, DON’T I? WE’VE MET SOMEWHERE, LONG AGO.
Nish moved his hand to hers, squeezing it hard, and with an effort she regained control. Chills were running up and down her backbone, radiating out in all directions. Had she betrayed herself? She bit her lip, gave Rurr-shyve a warning jab in the side and tried to keep Vomix out. It made no difference.
I CAN GET TO YOUR MIND THROUGH THE BEAST, AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME.
‘Be damned,’ she said under her breath, and concentrated on control, hoping that would block Vomix out. ‘Go back the way we were heading, Rurr-shyve.’
It did so. Maelys looked out for the cloud bank that had hidden them before, but it had blown away.
LOOK BACK, RIDER, WHOEVER YOU ARE. LOOK BACK AND DESPAIR.
‘I won’t!’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘Maelys?’ said Nish anxiously.
She didn’t answer, for she couldn’t divide her attention any further.
I’VE A GOOD MEMORY AND I’M SEARCHING IT NOW. I’LL SOON DISCOVER WHO YOU ARE. LOOK BACK.
She let out a muffled moan. If he did identify her, he’d know her clan as well. She prayed that he wouldn’t associate the child who’d spoken so rudely about him with her.
‘Maelys,’ said Nish, ‘what can I do?’
Nish had proven himself in the war, in all sorts of ways. Of course he could help her. Without thinking she twisted around to look at him, but heard Vomix sigh, AAAAH! Half a dozen flappeters were rising up from the citadel. Her stomach knotted. A tired Rurr-shyve, already partly in Vomix’s thrall, couldn’t outrun fresh beasts eager for the kill.
I’VE GOT YOU NOW, LITTLE ONE. ALREADY DESPAIR’S FINGERS ARE CREEPING TOWARDS YOUR THROAT.
‘Despair’s fingers!’ she sneered. He was no poet, but he knew how she felt.
‘Maelys?’
‘He’s getting to me!’ Rurr-shyve tried to break away. She hastily turned back to her duties with tent peg and amulet.
‘Try to block him out.’
‘But then I’ll lose control of Rurr-shyve.’
