Hugh Cook: The wizards and the warriors

Alish parried a second blow.

The lighters broke apart.

'Only a scratch,' said Alish, harshly.

Hearst said nothing.

'It was good though, good,' said Alish, bringing his breathing under control. 'You've improved.' Alish moved in again.

Hearst backpaced, leaping away like a dancer.

Swords clashed, once, twice, three times. Hearst came up against one of the ribs of the dragon. He slipped in under the arch of the ribcage. In amongst the ribs, where Alish would have no room for his fanciest bladework, Hearst would have his best chance.

'There's no place to hide,' said Alish. 'This is the sword Raunen Song. The bright blade of vengeance. It's all over, Morgan. Ahyak Rovac!'

Screaming, Alish struck.

Metal rang against metal.

Alish beat down Hearst's sword and slashed for his throat. Hearst's right arm swept up. His steel hook caught Alish's blade. His own sword lunged for his rival's heart – but Alish sidestepped then backstepped, withdrawing out of reach.

'Good,' crooned Alish. 'Good, yes. You have, oh yes, my dearest Morgan, you have improved.'

His voice was soft, relaxed, silky.

Then, with a scream, he attacked, fast and furious, driving Hearst out of the rib-cage and into the open ground. Now there was no time to think, only to strike and react. Death matched death in a blur of shadow and light.

Momentarily, their blades locked, hilt to hilt. Alish spat.

And Hearst slashed him with his right-hand hook.

Alish screamed in agony. His left eye was gone, his face torn open. He took a wild swing at Hearst, who parried the blow.

'Yield,' said Hearst.

Alish swore at him.

Then attacked, striking furious blows in a berserker rage. Though Alish had lost one eye, the best Hearst could do was force him to give ground.

That he did.

Hearst started to manoeuvre Alish toward the edge of the cave. He would force Alish to step back into that gulf of air, if that was the only way to end the fight.

'No,' said Alish.

He knew what Hearst was trying to do. Hearst said nothing, but slashed and thrust. 'No,' said Alish, desperate now. 'Yield!' hissed Hearst. 'No!' cried Alish.

They were near the lip of the cave. In the air outside, Hearst saw – what? Distracted, he failed to turn a blow. Alish's blade ripped his sword-arm open. His weapon went flying. Hearst dived sideways, making a desperate attempt to recover his blade, and Alish – Screamed!

Alish screamed like the voice that will scream at the end of the world. His sword fell from his hands and clattered on the rock floor of the cave. Hearst looked up. He saw Alish in the grips of the grapple-hooks of a Neversh. Then the two huge feeding spikes drove home. Alish's body jerked. His mouth gaped open. His whole body shuddered – then was still.

And silent.

Hearst got to his knees and watched as the Neversh carried the body away into the sky. He staggered to his feet, and tottered to the edge of the cave. He almost fell, but steadied himself just in time.

He could not see where the Neversh had gone to.

Helplessly, he began to weep.

They waited out the next day on the top of Maf. From dawn to dusk they had nothing to eat; there was, however, a little water, gathered in pools on the mountaintop. From time to time, they tried the death-stone, but it refused to work. Night fell.

Some time during the night, Miphon tried the death-stone again, and felt it kick in his hand like a living heart.

'Gather close!' he shouted.

The other two sat at his feet. Miphon cried out the Words, and the familiar yet still terrifying power began its work.

The mountain of Maf came to life.

And, immediately, began to storm toward the east. Miphon tested its will, and found it strong, savage, ferocious.

'Miphon!' cried Hearst, trying to make sense of the reeling stars in the sky above, i think we're going the wrong way!'

'Too bad!' said Miphon.

From the Meditations, he had gathered enough power to bring the mountain under control if he really had to. But he wanted to conserve his strength, not exhaust it by doing battle with the mountain at the outset.

Miphon let the mountain run rampaging through the night. Then, hint by hint, he began to nudge it south. Dawn found them storming south on a course parallel with the Salt Road.

Cold, weary, hungry, they watched the landscape 536 lurching past. They had no words for each other this morning. They watched the sky for the Neversh. Hearst, after a while, fell asleep; he dreamt of the Neversh, and he dreamt of the shade of Elkor Alish, wandering without comfort or guidance in the darkness of hollow wind.

When Hearst woke, Miphon changed the dressing on his wounded sword-arm.

'Satisfied?' said Hearst.

'I think it'll heal,' said Miphon.

'Let's hope we live long enough to find out.'

The southern border drew steadily nearer. Toward the end of the day, they began to make out the details of how things had changed. A number of small mountains had moved, but most had not gone far. One had made the mistake of blundering into the sea; withdrawing from the water, it had parked itself half-way across the open seashore strip where the Salt Road ran; there was now only a breach some two hundred paces wide to guard against the Swarms.

'No sign of any of the Swarms,' said Blackwood. i'm not surprised!' said Miphon.

In the very recent past, they had smashed thousands and thousands of the creatures of the Swarms as they drove a mountain toward Estar. Since then, a death-stone had been used against the Swarms at the border. Obviously the enemy had taken fearful losses; it was scarcely surprising that their advance had been checked.

The fire dyke and the makeshift fortifications the travellers had seen when they skirted the border had disappeared without a trace, obliterated by monstering mountains or the action of the death-stone.

'Somewhere here,' said Blackwood, peering ahead, 'is Valarkin.'

'With a death-stone,' said Miphon.

'Charming,' said Hearst.

'We'll make an alliance with him,' said Miphon, with 537 determination in his voice. 'We have to. He has a death-stone. He may also have the green bottle.'

'Alish said – ' began Blackwood.

'Don't believe what Alish said about the green bottle,' said Miphon. 'Nobody would give away anything like that. Someone's got it right now, and the obvious person is Valarkin.'

'So we find Valarkin,' said Hearst.

'That's right,' said Miphon. 'Then I seal the border with this mountain. Then we wait, so I can be sure it doesn't move away until it's frozen back into inert stone.'

'But if we wait,' protested Blackwood, 'we'll be at danger from the Neversh!'

'We owe our grief a death,' said Hearst grimly.

But, if the Rovac warrior had commitments to death, Blackwood did not. Now that they had come so far, now that they had survived so much, there was no way that he could accept death as inevitable. Well, perhaps the Neversh would not attack them during the two or three days they would have to wait at the border. Perhaps – 'Look!' said Hearst, pointing. 'To the east! Something on that bald mountain-top!'

'Are you sure?' said Miphon. i don't see anything!' said Blackwood.

'Bear east,' commanded Hearst.

Miphon hinted to the mountain. His subtle urging made Maf slow, then veer east. He was getting good at this.

As they drew near the bald mountain Hearst had indicated, they saw a tent, a banner, a handful of men.

'Valarkin must be there,' said Hearst.

'We'd better not go closer,' said Blackwood. 'We may frighten him.'

'Frighten him!' said Hearst. T don't care if we frighten him out of his breakfast! If we're going to have to bargain with him, let's soften him up first.' i don't think – ' began Blackwood.