by Ian Irvine
‘Tobry, tell me about Lyf.’
‘You know him better than I do.’
‘Tell me what you know.’
‘He was younger than Rix when he disappeared, only nineteen. Lyf was quiet, their history books say, reserved or shy. Nonetheless, a hospitable man who welcomed the First Fleeters when they came. Some of the enemy historians said he was too trusting, but Cythe had seen neither war nor invasions in thousands of years.’
‘Was he clever?’
‘He had a keen mind. Had his brother the king not been gored to death on a hunt, Lyf would have been a scholar and a poet. He loved art and books and beautiful things, and it’s said his mastery of calligraphy was almost magical.’
Almost magical, or actually magical? That would put an entirely different complexion on the Solaces. Tali heaved open the cover of the iron book. ‘In his caverns, I saw how he wrote it.’
‘How?’ Tobry said curiously.
‘With a hollow-pointed scriber filled with diluted alkoyl.’ It would not have been easy to write with such a tool, yet every glyph was perfect in its elegance and grace. ‘It’s a beautiful book, for all it’s called The Consolation of Vengeance. Why did he make it this way, I wonder?’
‘For permanence, I suppose,’ said Tobry. ‘Paper burns, and worms eat it. It rarely lasts.’
‘And iron rusts,’ said Tali. ‘Why not bronze, if he wanted it to last?’
Tobry shrugged.
‘What are his weaknesses? I see none, now he’s making himself a body.’
‘Who knows?’ said Tobry. ‘Self-doubt, perhaps?’
‘He’s afraid of Rix’s sword,’ said Tali.
Rix came down, shivering from his tower-top vigil. ‘Hand me my titane sword, there’s a good fellow,’ he said to Tobry.
‘What for?’ said Tobry, unmoving.
‘The enemy are back.’
CHAPTER 97
‘The wind changed at four o’clock as if Lyf had ordered it personally,’ said Rix, buckling on the sword.
‘Maybe he did.’ Tobry handed Rix his chest plate.
He frowned at it, as if thinking that a man bent on self-sacrifice had no need of armour, then put it on.
Tali watched them, aching inside. Why was Tobry arming Rix for a one-way trip to the enemy lines? Had he decided that, where Rix’s honour was concerned, he had no right to interfere? She wanted to scream at them and demand answers, but who was she to interfere between friends who had known each other all their lives?
No! Rix’s strength was their only hope now. Without him they could not survive and Tali had to stop him from sacrificing himself. She had to do whatever it took and she was beginning to think of a way. An ignoble way she was bound to regret, but she would worry about that later — if there was a later.
‘A wicked sou’wester blew the ash away,’ said Rix, ‘and when I could see beyond the walls again, the armies of Cython were there — all of them this time.’
‘What do you mean, all of them?’ said Tali, rising.
Rix tucked his telescope under his arm and led them up eight flights to the top of his tower, one of the highest points in Caulderon. Tali hadn’t been there before and looked around curiously. Above them, the leaf-patterned, zinc-clad roof spire soared in a twisted spiral for another fifty feet. On this level the sides were open, save for nine slender columns supporting the roof and a tiled surrounding wall, shoulder-high to Rix, though too high for her to see over.
Rix looked out. ‘Seventy-nine,’ he said with a grim smile.
‘What?’ said Tali.
‘He’s counting the palace towers,’ said Tobry. ‘Until this morning there were eighty-eight of them.’
‘At this rate, the palace won’t long outlast its lord and lady,’ said Rix. ‘And that’s only fitting after what they got up to here.’
An icy wind licked the back of Tali’s neck. Already Rix seemed to have gone on so far that he could not see back to the real world.
A feeble, blood-red sun was skidding below the horizon, and glad to go by the look of the sky, which was mottled the red and black of rust blisters on iron plate. The air already smelled like the dead.
Tobry dragged over a bench. Tali stood on it and pointed the telescope towards the city gates, though she did not need it to see the Cythonian armies — they stretched to the horizon. And once they attacked, every soldier would be looking for her.
‘For every man, every squad, every army they had before,’ said Rix, ‘they now have two. There must be a hundred thousand of the bastards.’
‘What are they doing?’
‘Waiting,’ said Rix.
‘What for?’
‘Lyf’s word, I suppose.’
‘They’re taunting us,’ said Tobry. ‘Telling us they can do what they want, when they want, and nothing we can do can make a jot of difference.’
Tali looked across Lake Fumerous. Its northern cliffs were steep and ragged, like a hole smashed through a stone window — the chasm made when the fourth Vomit had blown itself to bits. She turned back to the Brown Vomit and her stomach twisted into a knot. If it blew up, neither Hightspall nor Cython would have anything to fight over.
‘What’s north beyond the lake?’
‘The sunken lands of Fennery,’ said Rix. ‘Ten miles of treacherous swamp and mire, and Lakeland after that. We have an estate on the largest lake — ’ He tightened his jaw. ‘We had one, bought with blood, no doubt.’ Goose pimples rose on his arms as though something had scuttled over his grave. ‘Come down. I can’t put it off any longer.’
Tobry was unnaturally pale beneath his tan. ‘Wait a moment.’ He took the telescope and pointed it down towards the streets around the palace.
‘Can we possibly beat them?’ Tali asked Rix. ‘Or is Caulderon doomed?’
‘It takes a lot of soldiers to capture a city,’ said Rix, pacing jerkily around the low wall. ‘Far more than to defend one. Had the wave not washed all the lower walls away we might have held them out for a month, even two. But nothing can stop them now.’
‘Hightspall has magery, and the Cythonians aren’t allowed to use it. Surely magery can make a difference?’
‘Our magery has been dwindling ever since the First Fleets grounded here,’ Tobry reminded her. ‘And it was never so powerful that it could destroy such an army.’
‘What if the chancellor gets the three pearls from Deroe?’
‘I don’t think Deroe will be easy to find.’
He’ll come after the master pearl, Tali thought. She had to be ready.
‘No one is celebrating now,’ said Tobry, who was still studying the streets. ‘The eruption has everyone on edge — the people believe it was sent against us.’
‘And the tidal wave?’
‘That too. They knew it presaged the end, even before the latest rumour.’
‘What rumour?’ Tali said curiously.
‘That the entire First Circle fled in the night,’ Rix grated. ‘Caulderon is finished, Tobe.’
‘We can still fight,’ said Tali.
‘The common folk have given up,’ said Tobry. ‘You can see it in their eyes. They’re not even looting any more.’
‘Their best hope is to be carried into slavery.’ Rix’s eyes met Tali’s, briefly.
‘I’m not giving up,’ said Tali. Her head gave another painful throb and she felt fingers prising at the mental shell she’d built to prevent the call from getting out. She clamped down hard.
‘Will you do one last thing for me, Tobe?’ said Rix, turning to the door.
‘What?’ said Tobry.
‘Take Tali and the child, and get out now.’
As Rix headed down, Tali grabbed the back of his coat. ‘I didn’t escape from Cython to run away.’
Rix stared at her vacantly. His mind seemed to be fixed on the last fatal ride that, if it did not pay for all, would at least end all. ‘If you stay, you and Rannilt will die the deaths they reserve for escaping Pale. Do you want that for her?’
He jerked free and headed down the steep stairs.
‘We can’t let him go like this,’ said Tali as Tobry came down beside her.
‘Can you stop him?’
‘No, but you can.’ She prayed that Tobry would. Otherwise she would have to use her own plan, and that would shatter him.
‘Tali, Rix was brought up as the heir to a great and noble house,’ said Tobry, ‘one that had raised itself by its own prodigious efforts. He may not have liked his parents, but he honoured what they were and all they had done. Honour and duty and truth were everything to him, and now his world is revealed to be a lie. His family’s rise was bought with the blood of innocents, the parents he honoured were corrupt, and everything that was good about his life has been befouled.’
‘But he’s a good man. Surely people must see — ’
‘To the chancellor, it wasn’t Lady Ricinus who plotted to have him killed, it was House Ricinus. House Ricinus committed high treason and House Ricinus had to pay. But that’s not what ails Rix most.’
‘What does?’ said Tali.
‘Betraying his own parents.’
‘He was trying to save his house.’
‘Does that lessen the betrayal?’
‘They were evil, murderous monsters.’
‘Even so, in Rix’s eyes his dishonour can never be redeemed, and there’s only one way out.’
‘Would you take it?’ Tali hissed, ‘if you’d been put in such a position?’
Tobry’s eyes turned opaque. ‘Before my house fell, I was put in such a position,’ he said harshly. ‘But I lacked the courage to do the honourable thing afterwards. Do you wonder that the chancellor loathes me almost as much as I despise myself?’
His eyes forbade questioning. He pushed past and went down. Tali stood there, aching for these brave and decent men, neither of whom she could help. But Rix had to live and only Tobry could save him. To convince Tobry to do so, she had to tell him this terrible lie.
Would he believe her, though? If the positions were reversed, Rix would not believe her for a second — but Tobry had been in Rix’s shadow most of his life, standing beside Rix while he got everything. Yes, she thought Tobry would believe her lie.
‘Tobry?’ It came out as a strangled cry.
He stopped ten steps below, staring up at her. ‘Yes.’
‘Stop him. For me.’
He frowned. ‘For you? Why?’
Tali’s heart was racketing around her chest. She felt the colour rising up her throat at the dreadful lie she was about to tell. ‘Because,’ she gasped, ‘because I love him.’
He went so still that his feet might have frozen to the step. ‘You — love
— Rix?’
She forced herself to meet Tobry’s bruised eyes, but they were even more unreadable than before. She needed him to act on the lie; she also wanted him to call her on it.
‘I think I have ever since … since Rix carried me down the cataract … I–I can’t do without him.’ She reached down towards Tobry, pleadingly. ‘Please. Save him from himself. For me.’
Tobry took a shuddering breath, lifted one foot and then the other. ‘You do know the fairy tale about the girl who called her lover back from death?’
She went down, step by slow step. ‘Rix isn’t dead.’
‘Isn’t he?’ he said stiffly. ‘I can’t refuse you. But he won’t thank either of us.’
But Rix would live! In a rush of relief, she threw her arms around Tobry and he recoiled, holding her away with upraised palms.
‘What’s the matter?’ She would never understand men.
‘You’ve just pledged yourself to Rix.’
‘But … that doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends …’
‘I won’t dishonour myself further, Tali.’
His eyes cleared and, for an instant, she saw the despair and loss he was desperately trying to conceal. Then he turned and ran down.
What have I done? Tali thought. And between these two good men, how can I possibly undo it?
When she entered Rix’s salon, he was wearing a sword on each hip and had his boots on. ‘Well, old friend,’ he said to Tobry, ‘it’s been good knowing you. Don’t come after me, will you?’
‘Not if you don’t want me to.’
‘Try to remember me the way I was … before all this.’ Rix extended his hand.
‘I’m the last person entitled to judge anyone.’
As Tobry put out his hand, Tali held her breath. Was he going to do it, or not? And if he was, how?
His other hand was in his pocket and she saw the outline of his elbrot there. As they clasped hands there came a small emerald flash and crackle. Rix was hurled backwards, his head thudded against the heatstone and he fell, dazed. Tobry disarmed him, clamped a set of manacles around his ankle and locked them through the frame of the heatstone.
Rix groaned, tried to get up and discovered that he was shackled. His eyes opened wide. ‘You utter bastard, Tobe.’
‘Yes,’ said Tobry. ‘I am.’
CHAPTER 98
Though she bedded down in front of the heatstone, Tali ached from the cold that night. But even had she been warm, even had the shearing pains in her head not been worse than ever, she would not have been able to sleep.
Rix, sitting as unyielding as a set square by the left-hand end of the heatstone, never took his eyes off her. Had she done the right thing? She could not tell. He knew she had put Tobry up to it and his silence was an accusation — three times I risked my life for you, and when I most needed your understanding you turned on me.
It wasn’t the only thing between them. Rix had not betrayed his mother, because Tali had already informed the chancellor of Lady Ricinus’s treason. But she could not find the words to make this confession. Or perhaps she lacked Rix’s courage.
Tobry lay on his back with his eyes closed, so rigidly that she knew he was awake. He had avoided her eye since the incident on the stairs. How long had he loved her? Thinking back, Tali suspected it was from the moment he first set eyes on her at the oasis.
And what about herself? She cared for him as a friend, yet until her quest was fulfilled and justice done she could not allow any man to be more than a friend. Even so, that magical night at the ball, when she had spent two hours in his arms, still made her glow inside.
She shook off the memories. Glynnie and Benn were curled up together on one of the couches, bathed in the light from the heatstone, sleeping soundly. Their faith in their lord was absolute.
Rannilt’s pulse was barely there now. She was slipping away and there was nothing anyone could do. Fretfully, Tali whipped the iron pages of The Consolation of Vengeance back and forth. What else was the book apart from a call to action? A philosophical work, or a manual for revenge?
From Wil, she knew it was the latest of a set of books called the Solaces. Lyf had made them and, via some incomprehensible magery, transmitted perfect copies to the Matriarchs in Cython, page by page, over hundreds of years. The Solaces told the matriarchs what to do, Wil had said, but what did this book say, and how could she find out? Might the book be translated with magery? Why did it smell faintly of alkoyl? What was alkoyl, anyway?
Why were there never any answers? She flipped the iron page, a ragged edge tore her finger and a speck of blood fell on the bottom of the book. As she was wiping it off the etched glyphs seemed to blur into words, though when she rubbed her weary eyes and looked again she saw only glyphs, as unreadable as ever.
The book was densely clotted with magery — she could tell without resorting to the spectible. What was the magery for? She turned the last, blank leaf. Who was supposed to write the ending? Lyf, or the Matriarchs?
Tali fantasised about writing it herself, turning his plan back on him and his vengeance into her just retribution. Why not? She was the one, after all. But before she could write it, she must discover how to read it. And then she would need alkoyl to etch her words into the iron.
Beside her, Rannilt jerk
ed, stiffened and cried out. Tali dismissed the fantasy and sat up, the covers falling around her and the book hitting her knee with a painful thump.
The child’s eyes opened wide and she said in a little, awed voice, ‘He’s coming!’
Her eyes closed, then her mouth opened and a tiny bubble of golden light was pulled out of her, trailing threads like a bandage torn from a healing wound. The bubble spiralled upwards and vanished, but another followed it, then another.
Tali was stroking Rannilt’s brow when the ragged, three-note sequence went off in her head, di-DA-doh, though this time the calls were close and seemed to come from three different directions. Had Deroe separated the pearls so he could triangulate the location of the master pearl?
‘What’s the matter?’ Tobry, beyond the far end of the heatstone, and not illuminated by it, was only an outline in the dim salon.
‘Lyf’s on his way,’ said Tali. ‘Deroe too. Whoever gets the master pearl first can control the others and take all. What do we do?’
‘We wait.’
Trapped in the palace in a besieged city, she had no way to escape either hunter. But was there a way to use them against each other? She glanced across at Rix, who was still sitting upright, eyes closed. As much by the lack of tension in his face as by the rise and fall of his chest, she knew he slept at last.
‘What if I were to lure Deroe into the cellar?’ she whispered to Tobry.
He did not look at her. ‘Lyf’s been trying to trap Deroe for years, and he’s never succeeded.’ The implication was that she had no hope.
‘But until now, Lyf’s had no body and hardly any power. And he’s been bound to the caverns. The only place he could go from there is to the cellar. Besides, I’ve thought of a plan Lyf could never use.’
‘Go on,’ he said dubiously.
‘Deroe must be a very old man, yet when I heard his thoughts the other day, he sounded like a whining boy — as though his emotions were frozen at the moment Lyf possessed him. And I think he’s desperately lonely. No one likes him, no one cares for him, yet that’s what he yearns for. If I listen to his troubles and pretend to care, I might discover how he uses the pearls and command his three with my own. Then, when Lyf comes, I might be able to take control of his as well — ’
