Ian Irvine - Alchymist

Tiaan went with the aide, uneasily. Though she trusted Malien, she'd also heard such assurances before.

Nish was standing by the air-floater early the following morning, when Yggur appeared at the front doors. 'Come with me, Cryl-Nish.' He strode across the yard.

Nish had to trot to catch up to him, which he found undignified. He followed the mancer up a set of stone stairs onto the outer wall, which was gravelled and as wide as a road, and down to a corner with a stone guard post, not presently manned, though Nish had seen guards there yesterday.

Yggur turned to face him. 'Tell me about these tears your father found.'

That endless night, and the hideous scene in Jal-Nish's tent, came crashing back as vividly as if Nish were there still.

It unreeled from beginning to end and he could not stop it: Jal-Nish without the mask, the rage against the world. His father thrusting Nish's hands into the box, inside the tears, and that extra dimension it had temporarily brought to his sight, his other senses, even his emotions. And finally, Jal-Nish's alchymical compulsion. Nish opened his mouth but found himself too short of breath to speak. He swayed on his feet, even now feeling the urge to go to his father. The compulsion was painfully strong.

Yggur reached out and steadied him. 'What secret are you hiding for your master?'

The compulsion faded. 'I have no master,' Nish said shakily.

'Another one!' Yggur gave a grim smile. 'It's no wonder the world falls into ruin.'

'I'm not hiding anything, surr. I—' Nish's knees buckled and he slipped through the mancer's fingers, to lie sprawled on the floor.

Yggur crouched beside him. 'What is it, lad? I touched a spell of sorts just then, didn't I?'

'My father put it on me.'

'Why, Artificer? Here, let me help you up. Calm yourself -take your time.'

The memories, or the spell, faded. Nish explained about his part, and Irisis's, in condemning his father to life in a ruined body, and all the rest of it. 'Jal-Nish has hated Irisis ever since, and despised me, and I can't blame him. No man should have had to suffer what he's suffered. I should have let him die.'

'Sometimes there are no right choices,' said Yggur. 'What was it like, when he put your hands into the tears?'

'It's . . , impossible to describe. They were hot yet cold, hard yet yielding, metal yet liquid. They were far more than that, but I can't find the words for it. And then—'

'Yes?'

'Briefly, the touch of the tears heightened my senses. I think it was the tears, rather than the potion he forced me to drink. The moon became dazzlingly bright, and I could see through things that were solid. I saw the lyrinx twisted up and cramped into the rock pinnacles, stone-formed to ambush my father's army.'

'Briefly, you say?'

'By the following day it had faded, although the tears did change me.'

'In what way?'

'I—' Nish gave a shamefaced grimace. 'I used to be obsessed with myself; with achievement, success and being recognised for it. But after touching the tears, I saw things so much more clearly. I saw what the world would be like under tyrants like my father. What it will be like if the scrutator-remain in power.’

'The tears did not change you in that way, lad,' Yggur said softly. 'You simply grew up.'

'I have to fight this tyranny, whatever it costs me, but I'm terribiy, terribly afraid. I'm not a brave man, Lord Yggur.' 'Your companions tell a different story. About this spell — I wonder why it did not take?' 'Perhaps he'd not yet mastered the tears.' 'Let me see.' Yggur put his hands to Nish's temples and closed his eyes. 'Ah, I see it. It's made with a strange, alchymical kind of Art that I don't know much about.' It's still there?' cried Nish. 'Inside me?'

'Just a trace, fortunately. Had you not brought up the bulk of the potion, you'd have become his slave.'

Thanks to Xabbier's quick thinking. Nish wondered where he was now. 'Not for long. I'd have been killed with him.'

But you weren't. And unless the spell is removed, a trace will remain there until you die.'

'But—' said Nish. 'What if someone else compels me?' They could not, unless they had the tears.' That wasn't comforting. 'Can't you remove it?' 'Not without the tears.'

Day after day, Yggur sat at the big table in his workshop, reading or writing in his journals as though nothing had happened. Nish could see how frustrated the scrutator was. After five days of inaction, Flydd went to see Yggur, taking Irisis and Nish with him.

A map of the known world was spread out on the huge tabIe and Yggur was measuring distances on it with a pair of black calipers. He did not look up.

We've got to get moving,' Flydd said abruptly. 'The lyrinx mature quickly. If we don't strike them now, by spring they'll have another army and they'll be unstoppable.'

I have no grievance with the lyrinx,' said Yggur, making a notee in his journal. 'But you agreed to help us,' Flydd spluttered.

'I agreed to give you a refuge for a few days, Scrutator. That doesn't make us bedfellows.' 'But I thought—'

'You aroused my curiosity about the Numinator and the tears, but what I'm doing about that is my own affair. I'm not going to fight your wars for you.'

'You're up to something!' Flydd said furiously. To have power, as Yggur undoubtedly did, and not want to use it, was incomprehensible.

Yggur simply raised his hands in the air. 'Then leave. I didn't ask you to come here, consuming my supplies and disturbing my peace.'

'You don't care about the fate of your own kind.'

'If I were threatened by the lyrinx, would you have come to my aid?'

'That's different,' said Flydd.

'I see. Why don't you go to the Aachim?'

'Our alliance was not a fruitful one,' Flydd said uncomfortably.

'Meaning you've made enemies of your friends and now look to me to fix it for you.'

'Vithis is an unreasonable man, even by your standards,' snapped Flydd. 'Besides, he's withdrawn to the Foshorn, near the southern corner of the Dry Sea—'

'I know where the Foshorn is,' said Yggur. 'I've been there.'

'The Aachim have driven out the people that dwelt there and closed the borders. Vithis isn't going to help us.'

'Then you'll have to abandon Lauralin. Go north across the tropic ocean. You may find a haven in that hemisphere.'

'The lyrinx breed like maggots,' said Flydd. 'In a few generations they'd overrun Lauralin and come after us. Win or lose, the battle must be fought now.'

'You will lose,' said Yggur with such studied indifference that Nish wondered if he was testing their resolve before committing himself.

'When you're the last human left alive, you'll regret that you did nothing for your fellows.'

'I'm immune to emotional blackmail.' Nodding stiffly, Yggur went around the table and out.

'Arrogant swine!' said Flydd as they were walking back to their rooms. 'To have such power, yet refuse to use it.' 'How do you know he still has power?' Nish wondered. 'I don't suppose I do,' Flydd said slowly. I just assumed …Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he hides here because his power is failing.'

'But he does live in harmony with the lyrinx,' said Irisis. 'Why should he turn on them on our say-so? It's up to us,' she sighed. 'I suppose it always was.'

'But what can we do?' cried Nish. 'We're exiles cowering in our hidey-hole a hundred leagues from Lauralin. We've got no army, no coin, just a handful of weapons and a decrepit air-floater. We've no friends, no influence, and face instant death if we return to Lauralin. How can we hope to overthrow the scrutators? How can we do anything at all?'

No one spoke. They seemed shocked by the outburst, though Nish had only put into words what they'd all been thinking: they were deluding themselves.