by Ian Irvine
A colossal boom thundered down, shaking the palace and echoing and re-echoing off the mountains.
‘It’s done,’ said Flydd when the last echoes had faded. ‘Every trace of white fire, all across Santhenar, is gone.’
Shortly, a faint flush began to spread across the eastern sky. Dawn was breaking. Yalkara’s body formed an elongated pile of ash and Yggur lay not far away, his arms and body smoking and most of his hair burned off. Tulitine stumbled across and crouched over him, cradling him in her arms.
Maelys did not see how he could still be alive, but Yggur sat up painfully, his charred garments falling to pieces.
‘I hoped my Art would come back if Stilkeen was defeated and the caduceus was destroyed,’ he said hoarsely. ‘But it’s not going to, is it?’
‘No,’ said Tulitine, ‘and your long life is also going to end, for both must have come from the pure fire Kandor put in the taphloid when you were a baby. As long as it lasted, so would you. Now it is gone, your Arts will fade to nothing, and you’ll soon be an ageing, ordinary man.’
‘An ordinary man!’ he said softly. ‘Me! And yet, when I’m nursed by the most beautiful woman in all Santhenar, how can I regret it?’
‘Hush your foolishness,’ said Tulitine, but she was smiling, and she did not seem to be in as much pain as before.
She bent over Yggur, put her hands on the worst of his burns and began to heal them, as well as chthonic fire burns could ever be healed.
FORTY-NINE
‘Where’s Nish?’ Maelys said quietly, for battles still raged all across the plain as the soldiers hunted down the surviving atatusk, and the other creatures from the void; several humans were dying for every beast dispatched. ‘I haven’t seen him in ages.’
She rubbed her blistered left hand, feeling very afraid. Thousands of soldiers were dead, and hundreds of the mighty lyrinx. How could one small man have survived against such terrible foes?
‘I don’t know,’ said Flydd, pacing anxiously.
With Stilkeen’s disappearance, the barrier between the world and the void had also vanished and the caduceus, which was still embedded in the marble at the front of the palace, had sagged and run like molten iron. Maelys had felt the power drain from it as it became a cooling puddle of lifeless metal.
The tongues of yellow and orange flame wreathing the palace slowly went out, and underneath, the beautiful white and golden stone of Morrelune had gone a dingy brown, like the smoke stains around the top of a chimney; the stone had been eaten away like decayed teeth.
Yellow fumes still oozed from the deepest and most rotten cavities, to fall in slow coils down the fluted columns and spill across the pitted floors. Maelys caught a whiff and choked, for the fumes reeked as though all the dead from Mazurhize had been interred below the palace.
As the sun rose over the distant ocean beyond Fadd, Morrelune began to shake. The needle-tipped tower swayed back and forth in ever increasing arcs and waist-high waves formed on the Sacred Lake.
‘We’d better get to safer ground,’ said Flydd.
Maelys helped Tulitine down from the promenade and two soldiers, from the few surviving Imperial Guard, lifted Yggur between them. The broad steps were cracking by the time they reached the bottom and, only moments after they laid Yggur on the paved plain, one of the corroded columns of the grand entrance cracked and fell.
‘The foundations must have been eaten away,’ said Flydd. ‘The palace is coming apart.’
Its base shifted, the nine levels grated against one another, distorting its beautiful symmetry, and several stones toppled, but Morrelune remained intact, as if some greater binding force held it together. However the paving surrounding it broke in a ragged circle and began to slip downwards, ell by ell, until, after twenty minutes or more, it formed a deep trench around the palace, like a dry moat.
Now the palace began to subside as well, in a series of small but wrenching jerks, as though cavities were continually forming and collapsing beneath it. It settled slowly, floor by floor. The stone edge of the Sacred Lake cracked and spilled part of its contents into the moat; steam rose in wreathing clouds.
The palace settled a little further, leaving only the spire standing above the paved plain, and then, as if satisfied that it had demonstrated its superiority over the tyrant and all his works, the ground gave a faint, satisfied grumble and all went still.
Maelys felt so worn that she could barely stand up, but she tottered ten steps to the brink and looked down. The rickety palace was surrounded by a circular, steaming trench at least forty spans deep, bounded by steep walls of fractured rock.
‘It doesn’t look as though it’s going to last much longer,’ she said faintly.
‘And good riddance,’ said Flydd, coming up beside her. ‘When it’s gone we’ll fill the hole with rubble to form Jal-Nish’s tombstone – a fitting memorial to a monster.’
The sky-galleon came sideslipping in, the wind whistling through its lines.
‘And look who turns up when all the work is done,’ Flydd said loudly as Three Reckless Old Ladies settled beside them, Tiaan at the helm. ‘Where the blazes have you been, Nish?’ But Flydd was beaming.
‘Oh, you know,’ Nish said airily, and vaulted over the side like a true hero, though the grand gesture was marred when he landed hard on his bloodstained leg and would have fallen had Flydd not caught him. Nish was filthy, soot-stained and covered in green blood. ‘Going up to the void opening, mopping up the last of the atatusk. Nothing special. Do it all the time.’
Flydd burst out laughing, and Maelys could not restrain her joy as she stepped out from behind him.
Nish’s eyes met hers and the most extraordinary expression of longing crossed his dirty face. His eyes took on a liquid shine; he whispered her name, staring at her as though she was a precious, lost jewel that had finally, after years of wild goose chases, been found.
Maelys couldn’t move; she had lost control of her legs. She looked into his eyes, not understanding even when he held out his arms to her. She started, blushed, then went slowly to him.
‘I heard what you did,’ Nish said, embracing her and stroking her dusty hair. ‘Going into the shadow realm, all alone – it was the bravest thing.’ He kissed her on the tip of her nose.
Maelys didn’t know what to think. ‘Almost as brave as flying up there to try and seal the void.’
‘Try!’ he cried in mock outrage, taking a step backwards but still holding her by the shoulders. ‘We did seal the void. It’s over – look out!’
He whirled her out of the way as the ground groaned and a finger-wide crevice snaked out from Morrelune, almost under their feet.
‘It doesn’t go deep,’ said Maelys, too distracted to worry about anything outside of them. ‘Nish –’
She wanted to tell him about the baby, but was afraid to. The revelation was too new, too raw, and she had not come to terms with it herself. And also, she was afraid of how he would react.
The ground kept shaking and they moved away from the edge of the pit. Rock tore deep underground, and clouds of dust boiled up on the other side of the palace.
They scrambled onto a boulder to see what was happening. ‘That crevice is huge,’ said Nish, pointing to a broad crack that was zipping across the plain towards the underground prison, half a league away. He and Maelys stared at each other, the realisation taking a while to sink in. ‘Mazurhize could collapse as well.’
‘And my family are in there,’ cried Maelys. Now, finally, she could go to them, but how could she race the crevice? ‘At least, I hope they are …’ She set off at a run.
‘This way,’ called Nish. ‘It’s quicker.’
He scrambled up the side of the sky-galleon. Maelys climbed the rope ladder. ‘M’lainte isn’t here,’ said Nish, looking around, ‘and neither is Tiaan.’
‘I saw Chissmoul a minute ago,’ said Maelys. She yelled, ‘Chissmoul?’
‘What?’ She was sitting glumly on the ground on the other side of the sky
-galleon, staring at her feet. Chissmoul had been called to fly earlier, but she had not heard the call, and now it was too late. The battle was over and she might never fly again.
‘Pilot!’ yelled Maelys. ‘We need you.’
Chissmoul bounded to her feet and scrambled up the rope ladder. ‘Where to?’
‘Mazurhize, and make it snappy.’
The sky-galleon hurtled away, racing the crevice across the plain. After overtaking it halfway, Chissmoul landed near the dark, grimy steps that led down to the prison.
‘Get clear, in case it falls in,’ said Nish. ‘We won’t be long. I hope.’
The prison was dark save for a few guttering lanterns, for the guards had fled hours ago. The God-Emperor’s silent watchers – the wisp-watchers, loop-listeners and snoop-sniffers which, when linked to the tears, could detect a creeping mouse in darkness – hung still and lifeless.
Nish ripped two lanterns off the wall, handed one to Maelys and they ran down the wet steps into the reeking gloom, letting the prisoners out as they went. There weren’t as many as she would have thought. Most of the cells were empty and there was no sign of her family. They must be dead.
‘What a horrible place,’ she said, pressing up against him. ‘Do – do you mind if I hold your hand?’
’I don’t mind at all. You can’t imagine the memories Mazurhize brings back.’
The smoky lantern glasses allowed out only a feeble brown light which made the prison look even more grimy and oppressive. It was miserably cold and the smell grew worse the further they descended.
They reached the lowest level, the ninth, which consisted of a short corridor leading to a single cell whose large brass key hung from a hook. She took it. After splashing through festering sullage, they approached the cell which had been Nish’s home for ten years.
‘You spent ten years down here?’ Maelys said, crushing his hand. ‘I wonder that you didn’t go mad.’
‘There were times I thought I had.’ Nish shuddered. ‘It’s as if no time has passed since my escape,’ he whispered. ‘I might be being led in now to begin my sentence. Go on.’
Maelys had been hanging back, afraid to look in, but she swallowed and peered around the edge of the cell. In the dim lantern light she could just make out something huddled against the wall at the far side of the cell. Her hand shook as she turned the key.
‘They look dead, Nish.’
‘So did I, half the time I spent in there. Be brave.’
She crept in, appalled at the smell, which was far worse than it had been in the corridor. The stench was distantly familiar, for Nish had smelled just like this when she had helped him to escape last autumn.
Something moved on the bench and Maelys, thinking about the shadow realm, put her hand over her mouth. What horror was she going to discover?
A tall, bony figure sat up stiffly, focussed on her and snapped, ‘You took your time, girl. You always were a lazy slattern.’
The woman was tall and skinny with an eagle’s beak of a nose – Aunt Haga. Trust her to survive – she had always been the tough one. Maelys threw her arms around her aunt, overcome to realise that at least one of her family had survived, sour and cranky though Haga was.
‘Get off!’ said Haga, pushing her away. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
Maelys turned to the crumpled figures in the corner. ‘Are they …?’
‘Your mother died five days ago and they’ve taken her body out,’ said Haga briskly. ‘Lyma always was the weakest.’
Tears pricked at Maelys’s eyes. Her poor mother had never recovered from the destruction of Nifferlin Manor and the dispersal of her clan, and the loss of Maelys’s father had broken her. It was a wonder she had lasted this long.
‘What about Bugi?’
‘Aunt Bugi!’ said Haga, slapping her face. ‘You may have been swanning around the world with all manner of villains and reprobates, but you’re not yet of age. You will show respect, girl!’
Maelys met Nish’s eyes, and he looked shocked at her reception, but she could have hugged Aunt Haga for joy. The world hadn’t been completely torn apart after all – Haga was the same cranky old martinet she had always been, and Maelys didn’t want her to change one iota. Haga was Clan Nifferlin now, and Nifferlin survived!
‘Bugi passed this morning,’ said Haga. ‘Seneschal Vomix tortured her cruelly after we were taken, and she was glad to go in the end, but Fyllis clings to life. She might be saved, if you know a good healer …’
Vomix again! He was the cause of all the clan’s misfortunes, and it had all come about because of a thoughtless remark Maelys had made when passing him on the road, as a child. No wonder her mother and aunts had treated her so badly and lavished all their love on Fyllis.
‘I know a very good healer,’ said Maelys. ‘The best there is.’
She bent over Fyllis, who lay in the filthy straw, panting, soiled, and terribly thin. Her eyes were dull and empty; a thin band, studded with jewelled knobs, encircled her forehead. ‘What’s this?’ said Maelys.
‘The scriers put it there to stop her from using her gift,’ said Haga. ‘It’s linked to the wisp-watchers and can’t be removed.’
‘The God-Emperor is dead, and so are the wisp-watchers,’ said Maelys, easing the band away and tossing it into the corner. It had been on so long that Fyllis’s brow was scarred underneath.
Fyllis’s eyes sprang open. ‘Big sister,’ she said softly. ‘I knew you’d come,’ and fell asleep.
Maelys wept.
FIFTY
The prison began shaking as Maelys carried Fyllis up. Nish came behind bearing the body of Aunt Bugi, and Haga hobbled up the stairs by herself, refusing all offers of aid. They gained the sky-galleon as the broadening crevices approached Mazurhize, and lifted off without looking back.
‘I never want to see this place again,’ cried Maelys, sitting on a bench beside her sleeping sister and stroking her filthy blonde hair.
‘What do you want?’ Nish said quietly, watching her from the corner of his eye and wondering what she was going to do next, though he had a feeling he knew. And the worst of it was, he had nothing to offer her – at least, nothing she would value above Nifferlin.
‘Just to bathe the stink of Mazurhize away and go home,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to have a home now.’
‘I understand. You have your family to look after.’
She looked as though she was going to say something important then, oddly, Maelys blushed. ‘My family, yes. But …’
‘What is it?’
‘They’ll never be safe while Vomix survives. He’ll destroy them just to make me suffer. I’m really afraid of him, Nish; so afraid that I’ve got to go after him. I couldn’t bear to think of him out there, just waiting for the chance –’
‘You don’t have to worry about Vomix ever again.’
She turned, clutching his bloodstained shirt with both hands and looking into his eyes. ‘Are you sure? Is he –?’ The sudden relief in her eyes was replaced by doubt. ‘He’s slimy as an eel, Nish. He can survive anything.’
‘Not this time. We spotted him from the sky-galleon on the way down from sealing the void. His personal guard fled down the ridge below Mazurhize but they were ambushed by a troop of atatusk and wiped out. Vomix got away and ran for his life through the woodland with a handful of his officers – abandoning his men yet again.’
Nish shook his head in disgust. ‘How could Father have raised a man like him to high office? We hunted him from the air for half an hour, dropping flares to light the way, but with all the trees we couldn’t get close enough to corner him. Then Tiaan spotted a band of those lyrinx-like hunters; the ones that came through the opening first. They were just over the hill, and she drove Vomix towards them, letting him think he was getting away.’
‘I hope they ate him,’ Maelys said fiercely.
‘You don’t feel as though you should forgive your enemies,’ Nish teased, ‘now they’ve been defeated?’
‘Not after what he did to my clan. Vomix hasn’t got a single redeeming feature.’
‘He certainly hasn’t now. The hunters pulled down his officers one by one and left them lying where they fell, but they held Vomix down and ate him from the feet up, while he was still alive. He threatened them, begged them, then wept and whined like the cur he is when he finally realised that there was no way out, but it made no difference. It wasn’t a pleasant way to go.’
‘But he’s definitely dead?’ Maelys was still holding him. ‘We thought he was dead before, yet he came back.’
This was one gift Nish could give her – he could relieve her of the burden of Vomix forever. ‘Had he survived, we would have finished him off, but I watched until the last gulp. He’s dead and gone, Maelys. There won’t be any tombstone for Vomix, just a stinking pile of manure between the rocks.’
She sagged against him. ‘Then we’ve won; we’ve finally won.’
‘Yes,’ said Nish as they landed. ‘It’s over.’
He helped her to climb down with Fyllis, then added quietly, ‘but at a terrible cost. Only ten of my faithful Gendrigorean militia are left, of the five hundred I set out with – and they never wanted to fight in the first place.’ He shook his head at the futility of war. ‘I talked them into it.’
They weren’t the only losses; far from it. With the last of the invaders mopped up, the allies gathered on the upthrust boulders between the Sacred Lake and sunken Morrelune to count the grim cost of the day and night.
Garthor had fallen, and more than half of his thousand Aachim with him. The red-haired Aachim of Clan Elienor had fared even worse, losing three-quarters of their number in less than an hour when several large troops of atatusk had come down right in the middle of them, though Yrael had survived.
