Ian Irvine - Alchymist

'Would you come this way, please?' she said politely. 'The matriarch wishes to speak with you.'

Her tone gave no indication as to whether Gyrull was pleased or otherwise. He shuffled after her, unable to raise much interest either way. His illness preoccupied him all his waking hours. He had begun to wonder if he would ever recover.

Gyrull was standing at a stone table, an oval slab that rose from the floor on a tapered stalk carved out of the native shale. She was studying a collection of papers but put them aside as he entered.

'My people have come back from Snizort,' she said. 'You were right. There was a residue left behind by the failure of the node.'

'Did they recover it?'

'Unfortunately someone found it first.'

'Who was it?' said Gilhaelith. 'One of the scrutators?'

'It would appear so.'

His idea about the residue at the node-drainer had been an inspired guess. Now that it had been confirmed, Gilhaelith was furiously thinking through the implications. Could the residue have had anything to do with Tiaan's amplimet, its communication with the node and those strange threads it had drawn throughout Snizort? Or had so much power been taken from the node that it had been unable to sustain itself and had collapsed into nothingness — nihilium? Much depended on the answer. And how might it impinge on his life's work, to understand the workings of the world, and control them?

'This residue may give humanity additional confidence,' Gyrull added. 'But then, knowing they have it will benefit us, in a way …'

'How so?' said Gilhaelith.

'Despite their near-defeat at Snizort, the human army is pursuing our Land forces towards the sea. We'll prepare a trap and wipe then out. What do you think of that, Tetrarch?'

'I would be sorry to meat an army' he said, 'whether human or lyrinx.’

'I regret the necessity, but we did not start this war, despite the propaganda of the scrutators. In the early days they rejected every peaceful overture we made. They regard us as abominations, even denying our right to exist. Now that we have the upper hand, and may soon win the war, I won't let the fate of their soldiers stand in the way.'

Gilhaelith was still thinking about the residue. 'SoJ was right about the node.'

'And I keep my bargains. I'll take you wherever you wish, within reason. I can't carry you far into Lauralin, nor to any place that would endanger my own life. Where do you wish to go?'

'I'm not sure,' he said. 'Because of…'

'Your betrayal of the scrutators,' she said helpfully. 'And the Aachim.'

He felt a momentary embarrassment. 'Quite. There are few places in Lauralin where I can live in safety now, unless I dwell in a cave as a hermit. I can't do that — my work is everything to me.' It had been and still was, though the earlier failure had shaken his confidence …

Gilhaelith realised that the matriarch was staring at him. 'I must have my geomantic instruments and be near a node,' he went on, 'preferably a powerful one. I'd prepared a refuge in the far south, but my health isn't good enough to go that far, without servants and loyal guards. Because of my, er, situation, suitable ones may be impossible to find. But…'

'Yes?' she said.

'Were you to give me a safe conduct, and a small number of your human prisoners to provide for my necessities, there's a place in Meldorin which would serve equally well. It's filled with ancient resonances and I could continue my work there.'

'You want me to provide you with servants?' she exclaimed.

'Now you're asking for more than the bargain. Should I agree, what can you offer in return?'

'My aid with problems you may encounter, of a geomantic nature,' said Gilhaelith.

'What makes you think I'm likely to encounter any?'

'I believe you will, as the war progresses. I imagine you may want to further develop your node-drainers, for example.'

'How can I trust a man who has betrayed his own kind in favour of an alien race?' Gyrull said reasonably.

'I'm descended from several human species, not just old humankind, so I don't consider I've betrayed anyone. Besides, you lyrinx are not as alien as you appear. And has not my word always been good?'

'Not always,' she said, 'since you make such a point of it. But it's enough, for the moment. You can't cause too much trouble in Meldorin, I think. Tell me — what is this place you want to go to, filled with ancient resonances?'

'It was called Alcifer, long ago.'

'Alcifer!' Slivers of yellow shone out on her flanks. 'Is that the limit of your needs, or do you demand yet more?'

Her reaction bothered him. 'It can't be more than a few days' flight from here. It was the great city built by Rulke the Charon —’

'Oh, I know all about Alcifer.' Gyrull began to laugh. Lyrinx rarely displayed amusement, but this became a great, sidesplitting guffaw that showed all her hundreds of teeth and made her sides heave like the bellows upstairs. 'Alcifer!'

'Is there some problem?' he said, anxious now. 'You did agree to do this for me …'

'I'm pleased to be able to repay you so easily,' she chuckled 'You could walk there from here. Oellyll is delved into the rock directly beneath Alcifer.'

Ullii was sitting on a rock a pebble's throw away, Staring at Nish, as she had done all morning. She expected something of him and he had disappointed her. What could she want? He liked Ullii and cared about her, but did she really expect him to pick up from where they'd left off, months ago, as though nothing had happened since? It seemed she did – her nature was single-minded, obsessional. Nish could not reciprocate, for his life had been turned inside out and he could not make sense of it. He wished Irisis were here — she understood such things instinctively.

'Let's get moving,' said Flydd.

Nish brushed away the few tracks they had left on the stony ground. Flydd rubbed crushed mustard-bush leaves over their boots and they set off to the north, taking advantage of the cover afforded by vegetation along dry creek beds. It was midday and a sweltering northerly blew in their faces. Nish, who came from a cold and drizzly land, had never experienced such heat. Green, iridescent flies hung about their eyes, noses and mouths, not to mention their wounds and whip marks, and no amount of arm-waving could get rid of them.

'I've swallowed enough flies to make a hearty meal,' he grumbled as they took a hasty break in the early afternoon. 'Where do they come from?' They were sitting under an arch of grey rock, its roof toothed like the mouth of a shark.

'Good eating for maggots, over on the battlefield,' Flydd grunted.

'Can't say the same for us.' Nish was chewing on the stem of a piece of dry grass. It generated a little moisture, which only reminded him how hungry he was. And his boot was coming apart again. He looped another lace through it, knowing it would soon wear through like the others.

Pull your belt in another notch.'

'If I do it'll cut me in half.'

'At least it'll be an end to your infernal griping.'

Nish didn't react — Flydd's carping was almost affectionate these days.

'I'm thirsty,' said Ullii plaintively.

'We'll get water down in that gully, Ullii,' Flydd said. 'It won't be long now.' He treated her far more gently than he did Nish. But then, Ullii never did anything wrong.

The baked earth crunched underfoot as they went out into the sun again. It seemed to grow hotter, and the flies more numerous, with every step. For some reason that Nish could not fathom, they swarmed around Ullii. The little seeker plodded on, not complaining, but in misery.

'Stop for a moment, Ullii.' Flydd tore the bottom off her green smock, knotted the corners into a bag and dropped it over her head. Ullii didn't need to see where she was going.