Ian Irvine - Chimaera

‘And there’s no way they can strike back?’ said Nisbeth.

‘They’re cut off from the shore by a circle of clankers armed with mind-shockers, and they can’t approach within half a league of them. They can’t escape. The only question remaining is – what do we do with them?’

‘We’ve had this argument before,’ said a purple-faced General Orgestre. The golden medals danced as he shifted position and Irisis noticed that he’d added another row since Flydd and Troist’s victory. Orgestre was a man who knew his priorities. ‘Exterminate them! It’s the only way we can ever be safe.’

‘But that would be genocide,’ said Gilhaelith, who still looked shaken from his day at the battlefront.

‘I thought you were out for revenge?’ said Flydd.

‘It’s not as sweet as I’d thought,’ Gilhaelith muttered.

‘After what they’ve done to our world,’ said Orgestre coldly, ‘a million deaths and whole nations devastated, genocide is exactly what I’m proposing.’

‘They might have been human once,’ said a young, yellow-haired officer up the front, ‘but they forfeited their humanity when they began to flesh-form their unborn young. The lyrinx are an abomination and we cannot suffer them to live. I say we move in on them right away.’

‘We’re not going to make any hasty decisions,’ said Flydd with a glance at Yggur, whose frosty eye was fixed on him. ‘If we attack while they’ve still got power we could lose half our army. If we delay we can save those lives and … still meet our objective.’

To Irisis, he didn’t sound convincing. Tiaan turned to her and Malien, saying quietly, ‘This kind of talk makes me sick to my stomach. I’m going for a walk.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Irisis. ‘I can’t bear it either.’ Malien joined them.

They slipped out, crunching across the crusted salt in the moonlight. ‘There has to be another way,’ said Malien.

‘I wish I knew one,’ Tiaan replied.

‘A night flight would clear your head and help you think about it.’

Beside Irisis, Tiaan stiffened.

‘Vithis has to be told that his clan is no more,’ said Malien.

‘I – but surely I don’t have to go? He …’

‘You must, Tiaan. It’s the end of his clan, and you discovered what happened to them. You have to tell him what you know. I can’t do that for you. I have my own story to relate.’

‘But … Minis will be there. How am I to face him? I don’t think I can.’

‘You’ve been running away for more than a year. If you’ve done him wrong – and only you and he know the truth of that – you have to face up to it.’

‘I’m sure Flydd won’t allow me to go.’

‘He can spare you now,’ said Malien. ‘Nothing’s going to happen until all the enemy’s Arts have been stripped from them. I’ll tell him I’m taking you.’

Tiaan walked away across the salt until Irisis lost sight of her in the dim light. She shifted her weight with a faint crunch.

‘You think I’m pushing her too hard,’ Malien said quietly.

‘I can’t say,’ said Irisis. ‘Although I couldn’t bear to have it hanging over my head. I’d have to go at it head-on, whatever the consequences.’

Malien went in to Flydd, and came back within minutes. ‘He didn’t put up as much of a fight as I’d expected, even when I said I was taking you as well.’

It was a long time before Tiaan returned. ‘I can see that you’re right,’ she said to Malien. Her face was in darkness but the tension in her voice was palpable. ‘Vithis has to be faced sooner or later. And Minis. In some ways, it’d be a relief to have it over, though I don’t know how I’m going to get through it.’

‘I’ll be standing beside you,’ said Malien.

‘But I can’t run away and allow the lyrinx to be exterminated,’ Tiaan added.

‘Nice try, Tiaan, but any decision will be days yet. Besides,’ Malien said slyly, ‘if you were to take your node map, Orgestre wouldn’t dare attack them.’

‘But then the lyrinx might –’

‘They won’t. There’s no escaping your duty, Tiaan.’

Dawn broke as they approached the Foshorn. Irisis climbed the ladder, rubbed her eyes and yawned. She’d slept most of the night and wouldn’t have minded a few hours more. The rising sun lit up the towering cliffs and ramparts. Directly below, the salt lakes formed by the Trihorn Falls were still in shadow.

Tiaan, who was rigid with tension, offered her hot chard and strips of dried quince. Irisis took a handful. ‘Where’s the famous Foshorn, then?

‘The Trihorn Falls are straight ahead,’ said Malien, who was still flying. ‘The Hornrace, linking the Sea of Thurkad to the Dry Sea, lies behind them. We’ll be over it in half an hour.’

‘That’s strange,’ Malien said a few minutes later. ‘I don’t see much water coming over the falls.’

‘I don’t suppose it changes with the seasons?’ said Irisis.

Malien chuckled. ‘Not with an ocean behind it.’ She turned to curve across the glistening lower flanks of the Trihorn. The layered rock was etched with deep slots and canyons that ran down to the salt lakes below the Trihorn, but the falls had been reduced to a few trickles.

She lifted the nose of the machine to fly up the face of the Trihorn. Irisis felt her stomach being left behind. She put down the dried quince, no longer hungry, and concentrated on not spilling her chard. Up, up and up they soared, flying faster and faster. Malien’s jaw was set and she was staring fixedly ahead.

They rocketed towards the peaks and, as they reached the left-hand gap through which the falls had once flowed, Malien flattened out with a jerk of her hand, curving between the two peaks.

Irisis gagged as her stomach and intestines seemed to be pushing up into her throat. Her feet lifted off the floor and she caught desperately at the side rail.

‘Sorry,’ said Malien. ‘I’m in a bit of a hurry –’

Below the thapter a trench, cut hundreds of spans deep and wide through solid rock, ran ahead as far as they could see.

‘Was that the Hornrace?’ said Irisis. It contained just a few elongated pools.

‘It was.’

The thapter climbed higher. In the distance a massive, rectangular building, constructed upon a colossal arch of stone, spanned the Foshorn. Smaller cubes made a kind of pyramid at the centre of the arch.

‘Where’s the watch-tower?’ said Tiaan.

‘It’s fallen,’ Malien replied grimly. ‘See. And not of its own accord. History repeats itself.’

Tiaan shot her a glance. Malien shook her head as if saying, later .

The tower’s suspended arches appeared to have broken and it had speared right through the pyramidal building. The pyramid and the Span still stood, though rubble from the tower had dammed the Hornrace. The flagpole that had stood on top stuck up at an angle from the dam, still proudly flying the pennant of Inthis First Clan.

Malien circled over the arch. A ragged hole had been torn right through the vast building. Thousands of constructs were drawn up in ranks outside, not too close in case the rest collapsed. Aachim stood in groups everywhere, staring at the ruins.

Malien hovered for a while, silently taking in the scene. ‘Best we go down and find Vithis,’ she said at last.

‘How are we going to guard the thapter?’ Tiaan said in a dry croak.

‘I am Matah of all my people,’ said Malien with the unconscious arrogance that characterised her kind. ‘And I’m bringing Vithis the most tragic news of all.’

She landed between the constructs, close by the main doors, and a small group of Aachim came to meet them. They were still covered in dust and their eyes had a faraway look.