by Ian Irvine
Hunger had become a constant ache, one she could do nothing about. But at least she had heard no further sound from behind. That was no comfort. Maybe they knew where she was headed and had sent people off another way to catch her. Or maybe they were just sneaking along, biding their time. After all, they thought they were hunting a lyrinx.
On and on and on. Step after weary step. Slower and slower. Everything hurt except her stomach, which was numb, though when she drank it throbbed. Tiaan snatched a few hours of restless sleep, afraid they would come on her in the darkness. She lost track of time. Had it been a day, or two, or even three she’d been marching? Her map was still extending eastwards. She’d gone nearly five leagues in this winding, up-and-down but otherwise featureless passage.
At some point along that endless scream of infinity, Tiaan became aware that she was being followed. She did not know how she knew. There had been no sound, no telltale glimmer of light. Her pursuers were a long way back, but they were there.
Tiaan came around a gentle curve in the tunnel, which dipped down and at the bottom contained water as far as the light extended. She moved into it, her legs so lethargic that it was like pushing through syrup. What if it was too deep to wade?
The water came up to her neck, her chin, her lips, then fell again. After ten minutes of splashing, the tunnel ended in smooth rock. Too smooth – it turned out to be a stone door and it took little searching to find the concealed lever that opened it. Tiaan was not surprised to find a door. There were many old tunnels in these mountains, and in the past whole villages had sheltered in them during the winter. She stood in the water, staring at the blank face. The tunnel walls were still granite but the door was pale grey stone. She ran the tip of the knife down it. Marble.
She heaved on the lever; the door rose vertically with much whining and grating, and when it reached its full height, an alarming twang. Water poured through, pulling at her trousers. Tiaan ducked under and took hold of the lever on the other side, wondering if she could seal the door against her pursuers. There was a louder twang, the slab fell, drenching her, and split down the middle.
Tiaan kept going, shortly to be confronted by a mound of blue clay and fragments of rock. A great shear cut across the tunnel, on the other side of which the pink granite changed to crystalline marble, streaked with blue and purple. Above, a ragged cavity extended into the darkness.
She passed through rock that was every colour and pattern she could imagine, eventually to emerge in a natural cavern about the size of the breeding factory. A ragged pool of clear water lay in the centre. The floor sloped up on all sides, though much higher to her left, where corrugated humps and hollows were reminiscent of theatre benches.
Tiaan drank from the pool, filled her flask, washed her face and hands, went up and heaved herself onto the highest hump. Down to her left, five passages led from the cavern, roughly like the ribs of a fan. Surely one of them was the exit she had been seeking for so long. Utterly exhausted, she made a bed between the humps and slept.
In a long dreaming of being hunted, several times Tiaan was roused by sharp rapping, a distant, echoing sound as of metal on stone. It sounded like a stonemason working on a carving, except that the blows were few and separated by long intervals of silence.
The sound was more intriguing than disturbing; each blow roused Tiaan momentarily before she slipped back into sleep. Soon she settled into a dreamless slumber, the like of which she had not had in weeks.
‘There it is! Up top! Careful now!’
The cry frightened Tiaan awake. The cavern stank of burning tar. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Four tarred sticks blazed in a staggered line down below, near the tunnel through which she had entered. Another crept towards her. The light revealed soldiers, in uniforms she did not recognise.
‘It moves! Shoot now!’ roared a man in sergeant’s colours.
Tiaan threw herself flat. Crossbow bolts smashed into bench and wall. ‘Stop!’ she screamed.
After a silence, the sergeant shouted, ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m from Tiksi!’ She dared not say her name. ‘Don’t fire!’
‘Show yourself. Hold your hands high.’
She did so, slowly and carefully. Five heavily armed soldiers trooped up. She did not know any of them.
‘I’m Sergeant Numbl, of the Morrin garrison,’ said the leader. He was a tall man, greatly scarred on the left cheek. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Have you seen the lyrinx?’ a dark, thickset soldier added.
‘There is no lyrinx,’ she said weakly.
‘What is she talking about?’ the soldiers cried. ‘Where has it gone?’
‘Maybe it’s a shapechanger lyrinx, turned itself into this miserable girl,’ said a thin bald man. ‘Better kill it to make sure.’ Thrusting his sword forward, he twisted it and made a squelching sound.
Sergeant Numbl clouted him out of the way. A dangerous light flashed in his eyes and, taking Tiaan by the collar, he shook her. ‘It was you! We’ve been hunting you, all the time.’
‘Yes!’ she whispered, terrified of the man.
‘Who is she?’ asked another soldier, who had a chirping, over-the-mountains accent.
‘It must be the runaway from the breeding factory,’ said the thickset soldier. ‘The mad woman!’
‘Shut up!’ the sergeant roared over his shoulder. His face had gone purple, except for the scars, which were bone-yellow. ‘Do you realise what you have cost us?’
‘You were shooting at me!’ she cried.
‘Stupid girl!’ Numbl slapped her hard across the face.
The bald soldier raised his sword. Drops of saliva hung on his lower lip. ‘Let me finish her,’ he said eagerly.
‘We might as well have the pleasure of her first,’ said a broad-shouldered, good-looking man with a receding chin disguised by wisps of beard. He began to tear at her garments. Tiaan tried to protect herself, but another soldier caught her hands.
This could not be happening. ‘You’re scum!’ she said, struggling furiously. ‘I’d sooner be eaten by a lyrinx.’
‘That’s all you’ll be good for when we’ve finished with you,’ said the good-looking man.
‘You would take a woman without her consent, Pelf?’ said Numbl.
‘She’s a runaway,’ said Pelf. ‘If you don’t like it, walk away.’
‘Please, no!’ Tiaan whispered.
‘I’ll take care of her,’ cried the bald man with the bloodlust in his eye.
Seizing him by the arm, the sergeant walked down toward the tunnels. ‘Oh, let them have their fun! We might all be dead tomorrow.’
The remaining three threw her down on the stone. Tiaan struggled but they were too strong. Someone bound her hands. She screamed at the top of her voice. A rough hand went over her mouth.
‘Hoy?’ came an echoing cry from below. The sergeant ran toward the left-most of the five lower passages, to listen at the entrance.
‘Hoy?’ came the cry, once more.
‘Yes?’ said Numbl cautiously. Before long Gi-Had appeared, followed by a troop of ten soldiers, and a guide.
‘How did you get here?’ said Numbl in amazement.
‘I would ask the same of you?’
Tiaan bit the hand, which jerked out of the way. She gasped for air.
‘What’s going on?’ roared Gi-Had. ‘I heard a woman scream.’
The soldiers let Tiaan go. She stood up. There was a mutter of conversation down below.
‘You damn fools!’ Gi-Had roared. ‘That’s Artisan Tiaan! If you’ve harmed her you’ll be quartered by the perquisitor himself! Get down here.’
The soldiers trotted down, looking everywhere but at him.
‘How were we supposed to know?’ said the sergeant. ‘Nobody told us you wanted her.’
‘Tiksi cretins!’ Gi-Had raged. ‘So you just go around molesting every woman you meet, do you?’
None of them met his eyes.
‘Bah!
’ cried Gi-Had. ‘Get out of my way! Tiaan, I must – ’
Before he could move there again came that tapping sound she had heard in her dreams.
The overseer’s head whipped around. ‘What’s that? Sergeant, go and see.’
The entire group went still. Tiaan could hear Gi-Had’s breath whistling in and out. No one spoke. Tap-tap-tap.
Numbl tiptoed from one entrance to another, trying to work out where the noise was coming from.
‘I heard it before,’ Tiaan called down.
‘When?’ cried Gi-Had.
‘Quite a few hours ago.’
‘It could be someone in the mine,’ said Pelf.
‘This mine’s been abandoned for twenty years,’ said Gi-Had. ‘It was worked out when my father was still alive.’
‘Could still be a prospector in there,’ said the bald man who had wanted to kill her.
‘Or a bear,’ the sergeant conjectured, ‘cracking open a goat’s thigh bone.’
‘I said shut up!’ hissed Gi-Had. ‘Gull, Dom, Hants, Ven-Koy, Thrawn! Stand at the tunnel entrances and listen. Everyone else, ready your weapons and take cover.’
Five of his soldiers went to their positions. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ said Gi-Had, pacing back and across. Another tap.
‘It came from here,’ said stocky, white-haired Hants, an ugly man with pox scars and a cast in his left eye. He was standing at the entrance to the middle tunnel. ‘Will I go and see?’
‘Yes!’ said Gi-Had. ‘Hey, what’s your name?’ he asked the good-looking soldier.
‘Pelf, surr!’
‘You’re a brave man, Pelf. Go with him.’
The two headed off, pitch-coated torches flaring. Tiaan flexed her bound hands, began to go down, then stopped. Everyone was as tense as wire. Gi-Had jammed a torch in a crack in the floor and stared into the third tunnel, tapping one boot. There was no further sound.
‘Can you see their torches?’ he asked.
‘No!’ said tall Gull, beside him.
‘Neither can I,’ Gi-Had muttered.
A scream reverberated out of the tunnel.
‘What was that?’ whispered Gull.
‘More torches!’ yelled Gi-Had, gesturing behind him. The soldiers crowded around.
‘We’d better go help them,’ said Gull, making no attempt to do so.
There came a thud, a shriek, and feet pounded down the tunnel. Pelf burst from the entrance, running without sword or torch. A continuous moan came from his open mouth.
‘What is it, man?’ yelled the sergeant. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
Pelf kept going. Gi-Had caught him by the shoulder, twisting him around. He shook him. ‘Speak, damn you!’
Pelf choked and a clot of slobber ran into his beard. ‘A band of lyrinx. We walked right into them.’
‘How many?’ said Gi-Had.
‘What’s happened to Hants?’ yelled Numbl.
‘He’s dead. It bit his head right off. He kept walking, like a slaughtered rooster. The brains squirted …’ Pelf vomited on his boots.
Gi-Had blanched but stood his ground. ‘There’s fifteen of us, and the guide. How many of them, Pelf?’
‘Three, that I saw.’ His downy jaw quivered.
The soldiers moved uneasily. ‘Not good odds,’ said the sergeant. ‘Reckon we’d best retreat while we can. And maybe send someone on ahead to warn the manufactory. Just in case,’ he added in a low voice, ‘if you take my meaning.’
‘Good idea. Rusp, go with the guide. Run, and don’t stop for anything.’
Rusp, a man as wide as he was high, said, ‘Think I’d be more use here, surr.’
‘Maybe you’re right. Gull –’
‘I’ll go,’ said Pelf. ‘We can take the woman too. Get her out of the way.’
A chill ran all the way down Tiaan’s back.
‘Get to your post, Pelf!’ said Gi-Had. ‘I’ll not leave her in your hands. I’ll be looking to you to lead the defence, since you showed such courage with an unarmed woman.’
Gull and the guide, an ancient miner Tiaan had met once or twice, by the name of Hurny, hurried off. The soldiers moved into a semicircle around the mouth of the third tunnel.
Tiaan did not rate their chances highly, or her own. She began to rasp her bonds on an edge of stone, since she could not reach her knife. It was hard work, for the marble tended to wear away before the fibres did. She had not made much progress when a noise shocked the soldiers rigid. It was a sharp clack, like an armoured foot striking a pebble.
‘They’re coming!’ hissed Gi-Had.
The soldiers jammed their torches into whatever crevices and hollows they could find. The advance guard presented their javelins. Those on the wings of the semicircle held out swords. They looked like a bunch of terrified youths. Two, armed with crossbows, moved back.
Another noise, like the skittering of a stone across the floor. The javelins wavered, dipped then firmed. Fourteen pairs of eyes stared at the black opening. Tiaan rasped her bonds furiously.
Without warning a dark creature erupted from the tunnel to the left of the middle one. Another lyrinx came out of the right tunnel. They hurled themselves through the swordsmen and attacked the javelin-armed soldiers from behind. Three were dead before they could get their weapons into position. The fourth impaled a lyrinx in its armoured thigh, then his spear was broken, and he with it.
‘To me!’ roared Gi-Had, standing at the front with the sergeant. ‘Archers, fire!’
The crossbows fired over the heads of the soldiers. A green-crested lyrinx fell, shot through the eye. Another was pierced in one mighty shoulder, though it shrugged at the injury and kept fighting. The creature was powerfully armoured there.
Four swordsmen were still on their feet, and Gi-Had. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their swords weaving, while the archers struggled to reload their clumsy weapons. A third lyrinx hurtled out of the middle tunnel. The soldiers had their backs to him and three fell without ever knowing why. The sergeant and Gi-Had fought on.
One archer fired again. The third lyrinx, which was smaller than the others, clawed at the back of its neck. It recovered, bounded across the cavern and took out both archers with single blows. A bolt shot vertically from the other crossbow, shattering a stalactite to pieces and raining down shards of limestone on the creature. A large piece struck it on the head, felling it. The second lyrinx had disembowelled Numbl, but was skewered between the thigh plates by Gi-Had. Purple blood gurgled out. Gi-Had feinted, ducked, darted to one side and ran for the tunnel that led back to the hedron mine. The lyrinx went after him, limping badly.
In all her life Tiaan had never seen such bloodshed and brutality. Everywhere she looked, men were thrashing, moaning, dying. She gave a last rasp of her bonds and they parted. She crept down to the battlefield. Twelve soldiers lay on the floor. Ten were dead, no question of it, and the others had not long to live.
One was handsome Pelf, the man who had wanted to molest her. A slash of the lyrinx’s claws had opened a rift between his ribs, from which pink foam oozed. Parts of one lung could be seen.
Despite everything, Tiaan could feel only pity for the man. She put a hand on his brow.
Pelf’s eyes opened wide as he relived the horror of the last few minutes. They drifted as aimlessly as fireflies, before lighting on her face. She saw his self-revulsion. ‘I knew I was doing the greatest wickedness of all,’ he said. ‘I brought all this down on us.’
Pelf twitched and a clot of pink foam shot from the chest cavity to land quivering on his trouser front. He watched it dribble down, then caught at her hand. ‘Take this dagger, girl. Put out my eyes that lusted over what they had no right to. Tear out my tongue that urged foul rape on you. Sever my treacherous member …’
‘Hush!’ said Tiaan. ‘You’re dying, Pelf. Make your peace before it’s too late.’
She ran to the other man. He was fatally wounded, blood pooling in the hollows of the floor beside him, and already unconscious.
She’d need plenty of food if she was to venture outside, for it would take days to get back to the manufactory from here. Feeling in the unconscious man’s pack, she found some cloth-wrapped rations. ‘Have you food?’ she said hoarsely to Pelf. She felt uncomfortable about robbing the dead and the dying.
‘Take it all!’ he gasped. ‘I’ve gold in my wallet. Take that too!’
She took the provisions but not the gold, and rifled the sergeant’s pack as well, until she had as much food as she could carry. The torches were burning low now. The scene was like a twisted, classical painting of hell. Tiaan heaved the bulging pack on her back and went down between the two dead lyrinx toward the middle tunnel.
As she passed by, the smaller lyrinx grabbed her by the forearm. She tried to reach her knife but with a swift movement the creature caught that arm too, holding both in a clawed hand that could have spanned her skull. As it drew her forward, leathery elephant skin parted on its face to reveal an eye. It was large and oval, yellow with tawny specks and a star-shaped pupil.
The head was enormous, the mouth as wide as her skull. Tiaan had heard awful tales about lyrinx. It would torment her just for the fun of it. The mouth opened, revealing a large quantity of grey teeth. Its breath was strangely sweet. Chameleon colours flickered across skin that had been dark-grey.
‘Get it over with!’ she said limply.
PART THREE
SEEKER
TWENTY-THREE
Irisis sat in a leather chair in the master crafter’s old chambers, listening to the storm rage outside. The wind howled in the battlements and it was turning into a blizzard. The weather suited her mood. The experiment with Ullii was bound to fail. What was she to do then?
