Ian Irvine - Chimaera

The deck wasn’t nearly as taut as before; Nish now found himself walking down a perceptible slope. He carried Flydd back towards the pen, but as he loomed up out of the wreathing smoke, someone leapt for him.

‘Xervish?’ It was the small figure of Perquisitor Fyn-Mah, who looked almost as haggard as Flydd. ‘Is he all right?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nish. ‘Would you look after him?’

Fyn-Mah took Flydd from Nish’s arms. There were tears in her eyes. ‘No man should have to suffer so, no matter what the crime. What has happened to our humanity?’

‘The scrutators devoured it to keep themselves in power,’ said Nish, and walked away before he wept with her.

Nish crept back through the brown miasma, moving carefully. He encountered several bodies – two soldiers and one of the prisoners – and then the barbed rope. ‘Don’t shoot,’ he yelled, keeping well down. ‘It’s me, Nish.’

Irisis was out in front of a small band of prisoners, swinging a length of barbed rope. Several more prisoners were armed but there were no attackers to be seen.

‘We’ve got to find a way down, and quick,’ said Nish, running towards them.

‘What if we made canvas slings and used them to slide down a cable?’ said Irisis.

‘Too dangerous,’ said Yggur.

Another cable went with a whip crack; a sinuous heave of the canvas threw bodies in the air and everyone off their feet. He felt as if the deck had smacked him under the chin. Screams from the far side of the amphitheatre trailed away to nothing.

‘They shouldn’t have been so close to the edge,’ said Yggur, shaking his head as the deck stilled; then it sagged beneath them to form a broad valley a couple of spans deep at the bottom. There were shouts of ‘Look out!’ from above, followed by the sound of breaking timbers. Two air-dreadnoughts had collided.

‘What if we cut a couple more cables?’ said Nish. ‘The deck might sag enough for us to slide down it onto the roof.’

‘It’d throw us off.’

‘We could cut holes through the canvas and tie onto the stay ropes. When the deck drops low enough we slide to safety.’

‘If we tie on, we’ll be helpless when they attack.’

‘If the deck’s that steep they won’t be able to come after us,’ Nish retorted. ‘Anyway, they’ll be too busy trying to save themselves.’

‘It doesn’t pay to underestimate the scrutators!’ snapped Yggur. ‘Nonetheless, it’s the best plan we have. Nish, take one of the soldiers’ swords and hack the cable away over to your right, past the last burning one. Flangers, do the same on the other side. If the deck still stays up, sever the one after that, but be quick about it. If the air-dreadnoughts cut us loose first, we’re dead.’

‘Surely they won’t do that while they still have hundreds of soldiers and servants down here.’

‘And still you underestimate Ghorr,’ growled Yggur. ‘Once the Council have been winched to safety, they’ll happily abandon everyone else before they risk their own lives. Tie on securely – and watch for backlash when the cables go.’

‘I’ll give you a hand,’ said Irisis, turning to walk with Nish. She slipped her left hand into his, swinging the barbed rope in her right.

They crept through the uncanny mist, which was thicker than ever near the deck, though it did not extend far up. Nish caught occasional glimpses of the air-dreadnoughts through it. The soldiers and crew were hanging over the sides, calling down, and men stood at windlasses to wind the scrutators and important witnesses up, though no one had yet been raised more than a few spans. ‘They seem to be having trouble with the winches,’ said Nish. ‘Is that also Yggur’s doing?’

‘I expect so. He’s an extraordinary man, Nish.’

‘It makes all the difference having you with me,’ Nish said. ‘I don’t feel frightened any more.’

‘Nor should you, with me looking after you.’ She grinned.

‘I didn’t mean it that way.’

‘Anyway, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Nish. I know you’re going to survive the war.’

‘We’re both going to survive it, Irisis, and live to a grand old age, and be greatly honoured.’

‘I may well be honoured but I won’t be around to see it.’

Irisis was prone to making gloomy statements like that. She had a strong belief in her own mortality, and since Nish didn’t know what to say, he just squeezed her hand.

They were close to the edge now. ‘Careful here,’ she went on. ‘If that last cable burns through you’ll be over the side before you can pick your nose.’

‘I don’t pick –’ he began.

She gave a snort of laughter. ‘Oh, Nish, you’re so predictable.’

‘Did you predict I’d climb the ropes and set fire to the amphitheatre, just to save your wicked and worthless life?’ he said, nettled.

‘I knew you’d do something. I just didn’t see how it could work.’

‘It hasn’t yet,’ he reminded her.

‘It’s infinitely better than it was twenty minutes ago. I’ll happily die with you beside me.’

‘You might have put that better.’

Nish felt with his boot for one of the stay cables, cut a strip out of the canvas and used it to tie on. Irisis did the same.

‘Better hurry,’ she said, glancing up. ‘Once that lot reach the air-dreadnoughts they’ll cut us loose and go.’

He followed her gaze. Three nets and a basket jammed with people were being hauled up, jerk by jerk. Many other ropes dangled down through the mist. It was well into the afternoon now; surely no more than two hours to sunset. Ghorr must be getting worried.

Though there was just the gentlest of breezes here, higher up the wind was whistling through the rigging of the air-dreadnoughts, shaking them from side to side. Every jerk pulled on the cables, which groaned as they stretched and contracted. Somewhere, not far off, a man was moaning, the same shivery sound over and over.

Nish caught a sudden whiff of blood. ‘Let’s get on with it.’ He put his sword to the cable and began to saw back and forth.

The blade was sharp, but the tough fibres parted reluctantly. ‘It’s as if some other force is holding them against me,’ said Nish.

‘What twaddle,’ Irisis said good-naturedly. ‘You’re just making excuses. Give me a go.’

She took the blade and drew it back and forth a couple of times. One or two strands severed but the rest held. ‘Maybe you’re right; the air does have the tang of scrutator magic. Perhaps they’ve cast a glamour to strengthen the cables.’ She handed the sword back. ‘Go harder.’

He hacked away. A strand parted with a ping, curling out of the weave and running up the cable for half a span.

‘Pull me up, damn you!’ Ghorr’s cry came echoing down in a sudden silence.

‘His struggle with Fusshte goes on,’ said Nish. ‘Without it, I wouldn’t have had a chance.’

‘I suspect Yggur had a hand in that too,’ said Irisis.

‘What do you mean?’

‘He couldn’t do anything, bound and gagged as he was. But once we realised you were free I managed to rub the gag down from the corner of Yggur’s mouth with my shoulder, when the guards weren’t looking. He used his Art to strengthen the mist and create illusions that heightened Ghorr and Fusshte’s distrust of each other. It wasn’t much but it made a difference.’

Nish paused to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, and as he did, something moved in the mist to his left, further around the circumference of the deck.

‘What was that?’ he said out of the corner of his mouth.