by Paul Collins
Everyone turned and stared at the wind-swept Torby who slowly lowered his arms. He looked for a moment as though he had borne the brunt of the inclement weather.
‘I don't believe it,’ said Amelia.
‘He's some kind of magical genius,’ said Philmon.
Tab said, ‘You're not wrong.’ Suddenly Torby went cross-eyed and reeled. She caught him just as he was collapsing. ‘Help me!’ she cried.
Amelia and Philmon rushed to her aid. Standing well back Fontagu looked up at the beleaguered Tolrush, then at the full blown Quentaran sails. Then he looked down at Torby, a calculating look on his face.
Tab let the curtain drop and sighed. Torby was sleeping soundly, after a night of sudden fever and chills. The two of them were back in Tab's old lodging house.
She joined Philmon and Amelia in the sitting room. All three had long, gloomy faces.
And they weren't the only ones. Everyone had gone crazy lately. It wasn't surprising. A week of fog and rain, no sun, no fresh air, and the constant threat of attack from Tolrush were enough to drive anyone to desperation. To make matters worse, Tab had been hauled before the Grand Council and chastised. Even the return of the icefire – and enough energy to power Quentaris for a year – did not make up for her theft of the gem in the first place or her subsequent hiding of it. It had taken all of Verris’ authority to keep her from being thrown in the brig, and even so she was under a kind of house arrest. She had also had to fudge the truth to keep Fontagu's name out of the proceedings. She hated to think what would happen if the magicians verified what they had suspected from the beginning: that their gem had been used to ignite the Spell of Undoing.
And if all that wasn't bad enough, she was blamed – along with Amelia and Philmon – for bringing the wrath of Tolrush down upon them. Luckily, it was quietly bandied about that Tab had somehow concocted the fog and the strange wind that were keeping them out of Tolrush's claws.
‘I still can't believe that we brought the icefire back home yet we're still the villains in all of this,’ said Philmon gloomily one evening. He had suffered the least of the three. Captain Bellgard did not share the magicians’ feeling that the youths had behaved badly. Amelia, however, had been severely reprimanded, while Tab had been expelled from the Magicians’ Guild altogether.
‘I went to the market today,’ said Tab, ‘and a merchant spat at me.’
Amelia nodded. ‘This is all Florian's doing. He's been spreading evil rumours ever since you disappeared. What's he got against you, anyway?’
Tab sat on her bed and rested her chin on her hands. ‘He hates me.’ She didn't mention how she had dumped a basket of fish guts on his head, and in public. ‘And he's too powerful to expose for the traitor he is without real evidence. Even with proof the Archon would hush it all up and Florian's accusers would “disappear”. I'm so sorry I got you into all this,’ she added, miserably.
‘We got ourselves into it,’ said Philmon. ‘And anyway, I don't see how Quentaris’ plight is our fault.’
‘Hey, something's happening,’ said Amelia.
Tab joined her at the window. Outside, pale towers and buildings loomed out of the fog.
‘I don't see anything,’ said Tab.
‘But you can see something, right?’
‘Oh.’ Amelia was right. For the past week Tab hadn't been able to see the house across the street. Now, however, she could even see the Pandro's Tower which was a good three blocks away. ‘The fog's breaking up,’ she said.
All eyes went to the curtained alcove where the bandaged Torby tossed and turned in the grip of fever. The children exchanged dark looks. By mutual agreement, Torby's abilities – if that was what they were – had been kept from the Council. Tab had had to convince Fontagu, but under threat of being named as the man who had caused the Rupture, he had agreed to keep quiet.
At that moment, a jolt rippled through Quentaris.
‘They've furled the main sail, and we're coming hard about,’ Philmon said. ‘You know what, I think they've found a vortex.’
‘We're leaving this world?’ Tab exclaimed.
Philmon nodded. ‘We've been tracking the vortex for days, but it keeps shifting.’
Outside, there was a sudden flood of sunlight. Tab's spirits lifted instantly.
But the next moment Amelia cried out, ‘I don't believe it!’
Tab turned and followed the direction of Amelia's gaze. Propellers humming, sails straining at their ropes, the dark fortress of Tolrush thundered toward them.
THE VORTEX
Horns blared. Bells tolled.
‘Tab!’ Amelia called as her friend ran to the door and flung it open. ‘You're confined to quarters! And what about Torby?’
Tab stopped in her tracks. Amelia was right. She couldn't leave Torby when he was sick.
‘Do you mind if I come in?’ said a nervous voice right behind her. It was Fontagu. Tab's eyes lit up.
‘Just the person I wanted to see,’ she said. ‘Torby's in there. He's got a fever. If he wakes, give him this herbal tonic and tell him I'll be back soon. Come on, you two!’
And she was out the door.
As the trio ran through the streets, Tab pointed up at the dark mass of Tolrush. ‘Look! They're attacking us with everything they have.’
Amelia and Philmon had already seen the flying lizards and demon-like dragons bombarding the city. The animals were normally used for scouting and hunting.
Tab's mouth gaped. ‘They must really be desperate to be using their squadrons. They'll get snared in the rigging. Come on, you two, this one's all or nothing!’
Pandemonium reigned. Everyone but the very young or ancient was rushing to their battle stations. Streams of people were charging up onto the perimeter wall; boats were being launched to defend the port area; specially trained and equipped soldiers were trudging across the Barrenlands to meet infiltrators who had landed to starboard.
‘Look out!’ someone screamed.
A giant flying lizard, its black shape blotting out the sun, screeched as it tumbled from the sky. Stuck full of arrows, it wheeled, pitched, and plummeted amidships. More creatures thudded into the Square of the People. Tab could see squads of Verris’ archers sending volleys of arrows skyward.
Tab pounded to the nearest section of the perimeter wall and raced up the stairs. The fighting was thick on all sides. Tolrush had landed a dozen boarding parties all across Quentaris, having clearly learnt their lesson from last time. The nearest such melee was only yards away.
Ignoring this hubbub, Tab pressed her hands to either side of her forehead. Fixing her eyes on a marauding lizard she sent out her mind, questing. She mind-melded instantly with the predator. Fighting through the creature's jumbled thoughts she tried to take control of it. The creature wavered, its handler countermanding Tab's order. The lizard, disoriented, narrowly missed the bronzed minarets of the Cathedral of the Holy Benefactor Mushin. It tried to navigate the narrow canyon between two tenements but clipped a roof, lost control, and cartwheeled into the ground.
‘Yes!’ Tab cried at her small victory. By now, though, the sky was thick with flying monstrosities. Many had landed, depositing their passengers before flapping back to Tolrush for reinforcements. Screams and angry shouts rose on all sides. Quentarans fought fiercely and died bravely but the outcome of this battle wasn't much in doubt. Vastly outnumbered and low on morale, it was only a matter of time before Tolrush overwhelmed them.
Somewhere overhead, rigging snapped and twanged. Tab stared as a canvasser fell like a stone, his scream stopping abruptly when he hit the deck. Some were plucked from spars and walkways while others scurried like rodents into rat-holes as the flying lizards passed overhead. There are too few of us, Tab thought. We're … sunk …
As though to confirm her worst fears, an entire cross-spar, sail and all, came crashing down. Sailors scrambled for their lives. The vast billowing canvas settled languidly over several city blocks. Ironically, this saved many from the attacks of
the lizards. Conversely, and no doubt part of the saboteurs’
plans, the fallen rigging and sails gave better access to the enemy's airborne troops.
Amelia, who was using levitation spells to toss Tolrushians overboard or deflect killing strokes of sword or pike, joined Tab on the battlement.
‘Where's Philmon?’ gasped Tab. She was winded, having sent yet another lizard crashing into the ground.
‘He went to his battle station. Watch out!’
Amelia magically deflected a thrown axe that would have split Tab's head in two.
‘This is madness!’ Tab screamed.
‘Look at that!’ Amelia said, shaking Tab.
Tab followed her pointing finger. A vast mushroom-shaped vortex turned ponderously in the distance. Livercoloured clouds broiled in its mouth, lightning crackled. It was more frightening than any vortex Tab had ever seen.
‘We're going into that?’ she whispered.
‘Well, if we stay here, we die,’ cried Amelia, pulling Tab to safety as two Tolrushians ran past.
Tab shivered. No one liked flying through a vortex. It felt too much like entering banned rift caves. She shook her head as she tried to focus on the task at hand: namely, stemming the airborne attack.
A three-lizard squad darted in low under the forward sail. As Tab watched, they flew between tall buildings and towers, down where the ranks of Verris’ archers could not assail them. As they swept past her, Tab recognised one of the riders on the middle beast: Kull Vladis.
The lizards landed in a small square and the Tolrushians quickly dismounted.
‘I can't see them!’ Tab cried, craning her neck. ‘Stay here,’ she told Amelia, then raced down the stairs.
Tab reached the square just in time to see the last of the Tolrushians disappear into a culvert at the base of a tower. Running lightly and quietly to the entrance, she peeked inside. She saw torches flaring in the distance, and bit her lip. Should she follow?
Quentaris was undermined by catacombs, but this tunnel had a carved look which meant that it was probably somebody's escape route. Only thieves and royalty had need of such tunnels. And Tab had an idea she knew just where this tunnel would lead.
Cursing herself for an idiot, Tab ducked inside and followed the distant lights, being careful to stay back as far as she could without losing sight of her quarry.
The tunnel twisted and turned, dropped steeply at one point into that maze-like underworld that existed beneath Quentaris, then thankfully started up again. And all the time Tab's heart hammered. If she lost sight of the torches, she would be marooned in the pitch dark: she would have no hope of finding her way out of here again.
With these chilling thoughts to keep her company, Tab hurried along in the Tolrushians’ rear, stumbling over unseen objects, barking her shins, and once bashing her head on a projecting beam. She nearly lost sight of the rear-most torch then and only the fact that the Tolrushian bearing it stopped to retie his sandal allowed her to catch up again.
Finally, Tab climbed stairs that led to a slightly open door. Pressing an ear to it, she could only see a tiny part of the room but what she saw made her catch her breath. Tolrushians … and Quentarans! Ruffians by the look of them. Thugs for hire.
Although those inside spoke in low tones, Tab could hear them clearly. And there was one voice that she recognised, aside from Kull's, that chilled her with instant fury.
‘Yes, yes, we've agreed to all this in principle,’ said an irritable Kull Vladis. ‘You shall be installed as Monarch of Quentaris.’
‘And you shall be Overlord,’ came Florian's fawning voice. ‘We will rule the rift planes like demi-gods!’
‘And your uncle?’ queried Kull.
‘Pah! He shall do as he's told else I'll have him whipped bare and thrown to the blood wasps.’
Kull laughed mirthlessly. ‘Family loyalty is so overrated.’
Tab rammed her hand in her mouth to gag it. The little monster!
Kull said, ‘And your engines? You've disabled them, as a greed?’
‘I have a magician in my pay. He will steal the icefire when he gets my signal. Without it, the engines will run for only a few minutes. And with this breeze … ’
Tab finished the sentence in her own mind: with this breeze, Quentaris would become a sitting duck.
‘A toast, then. To our combined good fortune,’ Kull rumbled.
Tab heard chinking goblets. The next moment something sniffed her leg. The same something uttered a loud and horrible growl.
Slowly Tab looked down. Kull's wolfhound, Sherma, met her gaze, revealing yellowed, saliva-dripping teeth.
‘Oh!’ Tab squealed, promptly lost her balance and tumbled down the stone steps.
Before she could pick herself up, the door above flew open. Someone shouted ‘Sherma!’ and the next moment she was lifted bodily and hauled up the steps. The guard rammed his foot in her backside and shoved her into the room.
Florian's sharp intake of breath was the most gratifying sound Tab had heard. This was followed by Kull's burst of laughter as Tab fell flat on her face.
‘Get up!’ someone growled.
Tab got to her feet slowly. As she did so, she saw a dumb waiter in the wall in front of her. It was used to send trays of food up and down a shaft to the other floors. The tray itself must be on a lower floor – all she could see were ropes drawn taut.
Without hesitating she threw herself into the cavity.
‘Get her!’ yelled a guard. His fingertips grabbed for Tab's pigtails but missed. A knife thudded into the wall, just missing her ear as she scrambled into the chute.
Up or down? she thought frantically.
Then she was straining to haul herself up the ropes. She was tempted to slide down but if they cut the ropes, she might have fallen to her death. And at this depth, there might only be a cellar – an instant death trap. So up it was.
‘Stop her!’ Kull roared.
The guards tried to obey their king but none could fit into the chute. One poked his sword at her but it fell short. Through all the yells and oaths, Tab heard Florian's squeaking exclamation: ‘I can fit! The rest of you – up those stairs. She can't get far!’
Sure enough, Florian squeezed into the shaft. Tab could hear the little toad's wheezing as he strained to follow her.
Tab climbed faster. She kicked at a panel on the next floor, but could hear the guards charging into the room on the other side. Up she went to the next floor, then the next. At that point she could go no further.
She booted open the dumb waiter's panel and found herself in a meeting hall. An arched window and balcony took up most of the north wall. Her arms aching, she swung out of the shaft and pulled a dagger from her boot.
Clasping the dumb waiter ropes with one hand, she started slicing.
‘No!’ Florian screamed. His whining voice echoed up the shaft.
Tab hesitated. Could she really kill someone in cold blood? The rope trembled in her hand. Florian had almost reached her.
‘Don't cut the rope!’ he wailed. ‘I'll give you anything. You can rule by my side!’
But Tab had hesitated too long. The chamber door shattered like kindling. A guard rolled across the lush carpet.
Kull Vladis strode into the room, looking slightly out of breath. ‘Back,’ he told his men. ‘I'll handle the riftling. Sit,’ he told his wolfhound as he drew his sword.
Tab tried mind-melding with the wolfhound, but it was too agitated and she flinched from its dark angry mind. Automatically she cast about for anything that might aid her. But there was nothing in the room. Outside, yes, a strange mind, long enslaved, welcomed the touch of her mind … and she sensed a kind of release …
‘Time to teach the meddler not to meddle,’ said Kull. He lunged for Tab.
Tab ducked, parrying. The blades clanged, but she had been lucky. A dagger was no match for a sword. Already her arm was numb and that was just the first blow. Unable to tightly grip the dagger with her injured hand, she fli
pped it to her other hand and threw it at Kull.
The boy-king, taken completely by surprise, instinctively brought his right hand up and howled as the dagger sliced through his forearm. He dropped his sword. ‘Kill her!’ he screamed. ‘Sherma!’
Florian had meanwhile clambered from the dumb waiter. He picked up Kull's sword. ‘I'll get her!’ he crowed.
