Chimaera twoe-4

by Ian Irvine

  Malien considered the request, as if judging whether he was practising the art of deception on her. ‘And you could use it to repair your injuries.’

  ‘The damage is no longer reparable. But even so, I’d like to have it by me. It was my life’s work, and it’s a thing of beauty that comforts me.’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ she said. Malien looked him up and down. ‘You’re a contradictory fellow, Gilhaelith. You brought the lyrinx here to exact revenge on them, and you’ve just argued for their preservation.’

  ‘So I did,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘But the brutalities of war, and my own mortality, have rendered revenge meaningless.’

  ‘You can’t lie to me, you know. I read men – even geomancers – the way you read books.’

  ‘I wouldn’t try. I’d never seen war before, Malien, and I had no idea of the horror of it – bodies torn apart, heads ripped off, thousands dying in agony because some fool ordered them to fight. And to think I put it all in motion.’

  ‘This battle was coming anyway,’ said Malien. She wasn’t trying to comfort him. ‘But I do believe we’re of a mind.’

  ‘What I’ve done has made my life more meaningless than ever, and I’m beginning to see only one way out. To take my life before I lose my mind.’

  ‘There could be another way to give your life the meaning you crave.’

  ‘How?’ he said indifferently.

  ‘By helping to undo what you’ve brought about.’

  ‘It’s gone too far; there’s no way to resolve it.’

  ‘There may be. Let’s get your globe. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘In the guarded tent next to the relics from the tar pits.’

  ‘I’ll take the thapter across while we wait for the others. No one would suspect me. And, Gilhaelith, perhaps you can do something for me …’

  Tiaan was pacing across the crunchy salt on the other side of the thapter when Malien came walking towards her. ‘Is something the matter, Tiaan?’

  ‘I can’t bear to think about what they’re doing,’ said Tiaan in a low voice. She kicked a lump of salt out of the way as if it were Orgestre’s head.

  ‘They’re afraid, and they see it as a simple answer, though there are none.’

  ‘I can think of one,’ Tiaan said savagely. ‘If I had the power, I’d destroy all the nodes on Santhenar.’

  ‘That would be the death of all the Arts,’ said Malien mildly. ‘The good as well as the bad.’

  ‘If the world keeps on the way it’s going, building ever more powerful devices and taking more and more to operate them, the Art will be the death of Santhenar. Humanity was never meant to have such power, Malien. Look what we’ve done to our world during the brief course of this war, and that’s nothing to what we will do.’

  ‘Whether our powers are great or small, good and evil apply in the same measure. And if you succeeded, and survived it, what then?’

  Tiaan hadn’t thought about that. ‘I suppose I’d just live a simple life without the Art, like everyone else.’

  Malien sighed. ‘If only it were that simple. Getting rid of the Art would not change the human nature that has abused it.’

  ‘But it would limit the amount of damage that evil people could do.’

  ‘You can’t turn time back, Tiaan; neither for the world, nor yourself. You’re what life and the Art have made of you. If you robbed yourself of that, you would be the unhappiest person in the world.’

  Nish and Irisis had joined them and as soon as they were in the air, flying in darkness, Malien said casually, ‘Could we fly over the lyrinx camp for a moment? I’d like to see how they’re faring.’

  ‘So would I,’ said Tiaan. ‘I knew some of them well. Ryll was a decent man – male – no, I’ll call him a man. He was a better man than many humans I’ve known. And Liett …’

  ‘Liett held me prisoner,’ said Nish unexpectedly. ‘After … er, Gilhaelith left me behind.’ He glanced at the geomancer, who managed to look abashed for perhaps the first time in his life. ‘The other lyrinx seemed in awe of her. And when she’d finished with me, she left me in Ryll’s custody. He seemed to have grown in stature since I last saw him.’

  ‘Both Ryll and Liett have grown,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘They’ve greatly influenced the other lyrinx, and this has been recognised.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Tiaan.

  ‘There’s been a profound shift in their attitudes since the relics were discovered,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘Matriarch Gyrull forced the lyrinx to think about the future as well as the past. The lyrinx who are least flesh-formed and most human, the reverts, are now venerated as being closest to their ancient selves.’

  ‘The other lyrinx must find that hard to take.’

  ‘Many do, but most yearn for their children to be more like their ancestors. In lyrinx society, the individual must bow to the will of the whole, or even be sacrificed for the good of the whole, and most do so gladly. Once they discovered their true ancestry, most lyrinx accepted that they had to change to survive and prosper on this world. It would be a tragedy if they were to disappear.’

  ‘There may be a way to save them,’ said Tiaan. ‘I er … neglected to mention it to Flydd and the others, but Vithis has built a portal out on a pinnacle in the Dry Sea.’

  ‘A portal? Really?’ Gilhaelith’s eyes lit up.

  ‘Well, it’s really a device to create a portal,’ said Malien. ‘He had it made to rescue First Clan from the void. And I have the key.’

  ‘If I could just see a working gate,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘If I could step across to another world, no matter how briefly, it would be the climax of my geomantic life. I would die a happy man.’

  ‘Your mention of the fate of the Faellem gave me an idea, Malien,’ said Tiaan.

  ‘I thought it might,’ said Malien.

  Tiaan regarded her with a thoughtful smile. ‘Shall we go down and talk to the lyrinx?’

  ‘But we’ll be branded as traitors!’ said Nish. ‘Flydd will be apoplectic.’

  ‘I’ll take you back if you like,’ said Tiaan. ‘But I simply can’t stand by and see the lyrinx destroyed.’

  Nish and Irisis exchanged glances. ‘I’ve seen enough killing to last me a lifetime,’ said Nish. ‘But …’

  ‘There’ll be no going back,’ said Irisis. ‘What do we do, Nish?’

  ‘Now that the war is over, and we’ve miraculously survived it, I just want to go home.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Irisis. ‘But we can’t. How would we live with ourselves?’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Nish. ‘Take us down, Tiaan.’

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  The thapter drifted low above the lyrinx prison, if prison it could be called, for it had no walls. A circle of clankers were drawn up half a league further out, and mind-shocks struck the enemy if they tried to pass beyond boundaries marked by lines carved into the salt. It was a black night and the area close to the clankers was lit, though the camp lay in almost complete darkness. Just a lantern winked here and there to show the shape of the half a million lyrinx – their great army plus all the old, the young and others who would not normally fight.

  ‘Can we be seen from the clankers?’ Tiaan said quietly.

  ‘Surely not,’ said Malien. She called down. ‘Bring up the flag.’

  Irisis hung a blue truce flag out on a pole, Nish directed the light from a lantern on it and shortly a lyrinx appeared in an open space in the centre of the camp, skin-changed to brilliant, luminous blue. Javelards and crossbows were trained on the thapter as they approached.

  ‘This could go very wrong,’ said Malien. ‘You do realise that?’

  ‘Minis found the courage to atone for his failings,’ said Tiaan. ‘How can I do less?’

  She set the thapter down a little way from the blue lyrinx, who immediately changed to the black of coal. He was huge and had a golden crest, the only one Irisis had ever seen. He folded his arms and waited. A wall of lyrinx surrounded them, and their colours and pattern
s were threatening.

  Gilhaelith lifted one leg over the side. ‘Do you think showing your face is a good idea?’ said Malien.

  ‘I’m dying. What do I have to lose?’

  Gilhaelith went down and planted the truce flag deep in the salt. The lyrinx made a collective ratchetting sound, perhaps representing a hiss, and surged forward as one. A female voice called a command, they stopped and the circle parted to admit five more lyrinx, two males and three females, carrying lanterns. Four lacked wings but showed blue truce colours. The fifth had thin, colourless, unarmoured skin and translucent, soaring wings. The surrounding lyrinx retreated until the circle around the thapter was about two hundred paces across.

  The five joined the golden-crested male, twenty paces away from the thapter.

  ‘The leading wingless male is Ryll,’ said Tiaan. ‘The colourless female is Liett. I don’t know the others.’

  Irisis wondered if they could possibly be the leaders of this vast gathering. They seemed too young. Anyway, the lyrinx were led by matriarchs, so they must be here as translators.

  A group of five weathered females moved across from the other side of the circle, but stopped twenty paces away, arms folded. The remaining matriarchs, Irisis assumed.

  After a long interval of silence Ryll held out a hand. ‘Tiaan.’ He gave what passed for a smile. ‘Nish; you lead a busy life. I don’t know your name,’ he said to Irisis, ‘though I do remember you. We fought, once, on the other side of the world.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten,’ said Irisis, taking his leathery hand. ‘And this is Malien, Matah of the Aachim of Santhenar.’

  ‘Malien from the time the Forbidding was broken?’ said Ryll.

  ‘The same,’ said Malien. ‘You know the Histories, then?’

  ‘We know everything we’ve been able to learn about humanity – our Histories that might have been.’

  Malien bowed and he did too, then extended his hand. She took it.

  Ryll turned to Gilhaelith. ‘In the circumstances, Tetrarch, I won’t shake hands with you.’

  Gilhaelith bowed, although with his odd-shaped, elongated frame and woolly head it was not a dignified gesture. ‘In the circumstances, I had not thought you would.’

  ‘Here is Great Anabyng,’ said Ryll. The black male did not offer to shake hands.

  ‘My negotiators are Liett,’ said Ryll, ‘whom some of you know.’ Liett shook hands with ostentatious reluctance. ‘Also Daodand, H’nant and Plyyr.’ Ryll indicated, in turn, the other male and the two females, one larger than him, the other smaller than Liett and also lacking skin armour. Plyyr looked almost human. The matriarchs said nothing.

  Daodand carried a leather box which he opened to produce ten drinking horns, a large skin and a smaller box containing some kind of crusted delicacy. He squeezed fluid from the skin into the horns. H’nant and Plyyr passed them around, then the morsels.

  Irisis surreptitiously sniffed the liquor, which was thick and had a faint citrus odour, a cross between lime and grapefruit.

  ‘If you don’t like strong drink,’ said Ryll, ‘take only a taste. This hurrj is old and very potent.’

  Irisis tasted it with her tongue. It was sweet, strongly flavoured and the spirits burned her nose. She took a small sip, then one of the delicacies, which had the crumbly texture of a sweet biscuit but with a creamy tartness.

  ‘Why have you come?’ said Ryll.

  ‘To talk about your situation,’ said Malien.

  ‘What is there to talk about?’ said Liett savagely. ‘Just get it over with; don’t come here to gloat first.’

  Ryll shook his head at her. Liett snapped her wings in his face. Great Anabyng made a peremptory noise in his throat and Liett folded her wings at once.

  ‘Scrutator Flydd has been outvoted,’ said Malien. ‘The governors have decided that your people are to be expunged. We’re here because we cannot agree to genocide. Yet neither do we want another war the like of which the world has suffered. Accordingly, we have a proposal.’

  When she did not go on, Liett said, ‘What is it?’

  ‘Tiaan?’ Malien prompted.

  ‘Vithis the Aachim built a tower on the pinnacle of Nithmak,’ said Tiaan, ‘some forty leagues south-west of here.’

  ‘We’ve seen this watch-tower from the air,’ said Liett. ‘What of it?’

  ‘It’s not a watch-tower. It was designed to create a portal, to bring Vithis’s lost First Clan home from the void.’

  ‘The decadent Aachim could not survive there,’ said H’nant in a purring growl.

  ‘Not even in their constructs?’ said Malien in a frosty voice.

  H’nant sneered at the very idea.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘They were found in the middle of the Dry Sea – dead! However, the portal remains.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ said Liett.

  ‘There is a world called Tallallame,’ said Tiaan. ‘The third of the Three Worlds.’

  ‘We know of it.’ Ryll shifted uncomfortably, then glanced at Great Anabyng, who remained expressionless.

  Irisis couldn’t help wondering why neither the matriarchs nor their truly great mancer were taking part in the meeting.

  ‘It is a paradise of forest, lake and meadow,’ Tiaan went on, ‘the most beautiful world that ever was, according to the Faellem. The Tale of the Mirror tells that Tallallame was also … invaded by creatures from the void when the Forbidding was broken. Thranx went there, as well as lorrsk and other savage creatures. Its native people, the Faellem, are no more. Or at least, they are civilised no more.’

  ‘Am I to take it that you’re offering us a choice?’ said Ryll with a savage smile. ‘To go to Tallallame and attempt to wrest it from the creatures that now possess it, or stay here and die?’

  ‘No creature could be better fitted for Tallallame than lyrinx,’ said Tiaan.

  ‘It’s a trick,’ said Liett. ‘They’ve come here to torment us – to offer us hope then snatch it away again.’

  ‘All we want,’ said Malien, ‘is for the war to be over with no more killing on either side.’

  ‘Words are always more convincing when they’re backed up by deeds,’ said Ryll. ‘How do you plan to demonstrate good faith?’

  ‘I have your sacred relics in the thapter,’ said Malien. ‘I would give you the first crate now, and the others at the gate.’

  ‘I didn’t know that!’ cried Tiaan.

  Malien smiled. ‘It was such a short flight that no one went down the ladder. Gilhaelith and I pulled a little trick on the guards, though we had the devil of a job getting the crates down the hatch by ourselves.’

  Ryll stood up to his full height, quivering with emotion, and his skin colours flared so brightly that they lit up everything inside the circle. ‘Show us the relics.’

  Inside the thapter the lyrinx squeezed downstairs, in small groups, and the lids were taken off. Ryll, who came last, stared down into the crates, one after another, his skin muted now in consideration of the others. Finally he motioned for the lids to be refastened and clambered out.

  ‘We could take the crates,’ he said.

  ‘And what better faith could we show than by bringing them here?’ said Malien. ‘But if we gave them to you at Nithmak it would save you carrying them forty leagues. That would save lyrinx lives, I’m sure.’

  ‘What makes you think you can open this gate?’ said Liett in a low, disturbing purr.

  ‘Vithis gave me the key.’ Malien showed them the sapphire rod.

  ‘And how would you direct it to Tallallame?’

  ‘I know the way of old,’ said Malien.

  ‘I don’t trust them.’ Liett snapped her grey teeth. ‘They mean to send us back to the void.’

  ‘Why would they bother?’ Ryll said patiently.

  ‘To salve their precious consciences. Truly these weaklings would not survive a day there. Not even an hour!’

  ‘Not even the void would be as bad as being herded here, like beasts in our o
wn ordure, until we die of thirst,’ said Ryll, whose skin showed truce-blue again. ‘We survived in the void before; if we must, we can do so again. But Tallallame, Liett.’ He reached out to her. ‘Just think of it! A beautiful world all for ourselves. For that, I would take the chance.’

  ‘And I,’ said H’nant.

  Plyyr hesitated. ‘There are places in the void of unimaginable savagery; places that are worse than dying here. I mistrust this offer. They don’t want to salve their consciences; they seek the bitterest revenge they can inflict on us.’

  Ryll looked to Great Anabyng as if for guidance. He glanced at the silent women, who nodded as one. ‘The former matriarchs do not vote, and neither do I. Our time has passed,’ Anabyng said in a deep growl. ‘For myself, my beloved consort, Gyrull, is dead and I will soon join her. I would not have our bones sundered by the void. You must decide – that is why you’ve been appointed.’

  ‘And swiftly,’ said Ryll. ‘We have little water left. Already our little children are suffering. In three days they’ll start to die. In five, only the hardiest will be alive. In seven days, none of us.’

  ‘You have been appointed leader, in defiance of all convention,’ snarled Liett with another snap of her magnificent wings. ‘You boasted of all the marvels you would do. Then lead us!’

  ‘What convention is that?’ Tiaan asked curiously.

  ‘That we be led by a revered matriarch, not an unmated, wingless monstrosity of a male.’

  ‘Matriarch Gyrull appointed me before she died,’ he said mildly. ‘Your own mother. You yourself told me so.’

  ‘She was out of her mind with pain,’ Liett said.

  ‘Great Anabyng confirmed her intentions. Besides, I did not boast. Matriarch asked me what I would do if I were leader, and I told her. I had no desire to be patriarch. We’ve not had one in three thousand years.’

  ‘So that’s how you see yourself, you unmated male dog!’ cried Liett in a passion. ‘The last patriarch was a disaster; that’s why we never took another. And you will be even worse.’

  Ryll turned his back on her, saying to the others, ‘I know Tiaan and I trust her. Malien, too, I know to be a woman of honour.’