Ian Irvine - Tetrarch

‘How can you live down here?’ she said. ‘It would kill me.’

‘You’ll see.’

Ryll turned left, stooped and bore her into a tunnel through the black sandstone. They went along for ages, his feet making tearing sounds on the sticky floor, and through a series of doors. The tar smell faded. Finally they passed through a metal door where Tiaan felt a flow of fresh air, and began to go up again. The rock here was orange sandstone, so soft that it could be excavated with a mattock. There were lights at intervals, lanterns hung on hooks in the wall.

‘Not back there,’ he said as if reading her thought. ‘The risk of fire is too great.’

They passed small open chambers on either side, looking rather the way she imagined an ants’ nest to be. Many contained young lyrinx, playing at games rather like human children. Beyond, Ryll led her into an oval sandstone chamber, carved out by hand.

There were many lyrinx in it, standing around, sitting at benches, or bent over plans or documents. Tiaan recognised none of them. She saw humans too, pale-skinned creatures who appeared to have never seen the sun. Though not manacled or restrained in any way, they had the listless look of slaves. Most were young, none older than middle age. Down the far end of the room stood a tall, dark-skinned woman with frizzy hair and filed teeth – a native of the forests of Crandor. She stood by a large piece of slate, making marks on it while three half-grown lyrinx attempted to reproduce them on smaller slates.

‘We teach our brightest children to read and write your common tongues,’ said Ryll, noting her interest. He urged her forward.

On the other side of the room, a man was reciting while a group of young lyrinx attempted to speak the words back to him. He waved his arms in the air and they fell silent. His left hand was missing.

‘My tutor,’ Ryll said. ‘He has served and taught us all my life. He is the best teacher I know. We are almost friends.’ He waved and the man raised his stump.

They continued into another room with a green-crested guard on the door. She allowed them through into a large space crowded with lyrinx. Ryll made a piping whistle and they turned as one. He spoke in his incomprehensible tongue, of which all Tiaan recognised was her name. Everyone stared at her, their skin flashing in lurid, chameleon colours. Tiaan had never learned to read their skin-speech, but it was evident that they were excited. A massive female embraced Ryll, then one by one the others touched him on the shoulder.

Tiaan’s skin prickled. She had an overpowering urge to run. Run anywhere, as fast as her legs …

Ryll bowed to his fellows and led Tiaan out.

‘What are you doing here, Ryll? Snizort is a long way from where we first met.’

‘We are great travellers, Tiaan, but as it happens, this is my home. I lived here until I became a man. Snizort is now our most important city on Lauralin.’

‘Until two days ago I had not heard of it. Is this where you learned to speak our language?’

‘Yes, from infancy. Some prisoners have been here since before I was born.’

‘When were you born, Ryll?’

He named the year.

‘But that means you’re only fourteen,’ she cried.

‘That is correct.’

‘I thought you were an adult.’

The skin of his feet and hands went a pale yellow. ‘We are adults at the age of ten. Most lyrinx my age have been mated long ago. Those who are whole and have wings. Unlike me.’

Just before Tiaan had fled Kalissin, it had seemed that Ryll and Liett might be mated, despite their respective disabilities. ‘Is Liett here too?’

‘She arrived but two days ago.’

‘Are you a pair now?’

His brow wrinkled. ‘Do you mean, has she accepted me as her mate?’

‘Yes.’

‘She has not. There have been difficulties.’

‘I thought, er, just before I fled Kalissin, that you and Liett were … close.’

Colours flickered across his face. ‘The Wise Mother withdrew her permission and sent me home in disgrace.’

‘That must have hurt you.’

‘I am a fool!’ Ryll said harshly. ‘As well as a wingless wonder. I must take my punishment.’ He said no more.

On they went; and down again. It was warmer here. ‘Can I see Gilhaelith?’ Tiaan asked miserably.

‘No, you cannot. We have arrived.’

Ryll thrust open a round door made of wood and ushered her inside. Helping her out of the walker, he sat her on a bench which ran the length of the curved wall. He put her pack beside her, lifted the walker onto his shoulders and turned to go.

‘Ah!’ He turned back. ‘One last thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘You will give me the crystal.’

There was no choice. Unfastening the chest pack, she put the amplimet into his leathery hand. What would the lyrinx make of it this time? Would they see its strangeness?

‘Thank you.’ The door was slammed and bolted on the outside.

Tiaan lifted her legs onto the bench and closed her eyes. She had tried it all for nothing and now they were going to use her again. This was the stupidest thing she had ever done. Ryll was right about her lack of judgment. Why, why had she come?

Several hours went by before Ryll carried Tiaan to another place, many winding tunnels away, that she would have had trouble finding on her own. She did her best to memorise the sequence of turns, in the faint hope that, one day, there might be a chance to escape.

It was a dim, moist room, long and wide, with an earthy, peaty odour. Mist wreathed across it, though after some time she made out rows of objects that brought to mind the mechanical devices in the manufactory, except that these looked as if they had been grown of wood and bark, branch and leaf, bone and horn and shell. Each was different in size, colour and form.

She felt something shuddery creeping up her back. ‘What are these things?’

Ryll carried her along a row to the second-last object, a throat-high cube of a substance that resembled woody leather, though covered in bulbs and curving indentations. Along the sides were patterns like veins in leaves and gills in mushrooms. A faint spicy odour, like lemony pepper, masked something less pleasant.

‘Sit here, please.’ Ryll put her on the floor and bent over the cube.

Tiaan tried to see what he was doing. He seemed to be removing a cover; testing the level inside. Something went glop! An ominous liquidity.

Across the room, vapour hissed from a dark aperture. A cloud of mist drifted toward the cube.

Ryll stood over her. ‘Take your clothes off, please.’

‘What?’ she cried, her heart thumping.

‘Remove your clothes. You won’t need them here.’

‘Why not?’ she screamed. ‘ What are you going to do to me?’

‘ I’m not going to do anything to you.’

Her eyes flicked back and forth. Her skin felt as if hairy caterpillars were swarming on it. ‘No!’ she gasped. ‘You’re monsters. I won’t help you again.’

‘Take your clothes off, Tiaan, or I will have to remove them for you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that. I know how … prudish you are.’

She shook her head.

He sighed. ‘I have the amplimet, Tiaan. I can force you.’

‘I got over withdrawal at Tirthrax. It means nothing to me now.’

‘We’ll see. Just what did you do there?’

‘I opened a gate from Santhenar to Aachan, so the Aachim could bring their constructs through. They’ve come to wage war, on you .’

He frowned. ‘We have more skilled questioners than I, Tiaan. They will get the truth from you.’

He did not believe her. That was good.

‘Your clothes! Hurry up!’

‘I won’t!’ She folded her arms across her chest.