Ian Irvine - Tetrarch

Her room was small, dark and airless, like every chamber in the manufactory, and even after all this time she found it confining. As a child of the wealthy House of Stirm she’d had a room bigger than some people’s homes, with views of meadow, lake and forest. Having been surrounded with beautiful things, the profound ugliness of this place was a drain upon her soul. Her work was, too. Irisis had always wanted to be a jeweller but her family would not hear of it. For four generations they had been crafters or better, and it was her duty to raise them back to the pedestal they had slipped from.

Irisis hated them for it, but with the world at war she had no choice. Family and Histories were everything to her and she could not go against them. She had become an artisan, and was now crafter, but her mother demanded more. She must rise to chanic, the pinnacle of the artisan’s profession. Irisis was going to, though not for herself. She still planned to be a jeweller once the war was over.

Her gaze wandered the walls, which were decorated with things she had made in her spare time, mostly miniatures created of silver, plentiful here, and semi-precious gems. They gave her more pleasure than anything she had done as an artisan. It was a canker in her soul. Many women in the manufactory wore jewellery she had made, which was remarkably fine. But making jewellery did not aid the war, and the war had to come first. She understood that, and accepted it, but it was not enough.

Irisis sighed and turned her mind to duty. The mountain might be full of crystal but not even Ullii could sense it through a league of rock. However, if the miners could get her close enough, Ullii would see the crystals like plums in a pudding, and then it would just be a matter of mining them out.

The failing nodes were another matter. Finding out what had gone wrong with them was vital to the war, and for the scrutator to have given her the job meant that he was unhappy with the work of the other teams.

But I don’t know enough, Irisis thought. I don’t know anything about nodes, except that’s where the field comes from. This is a job for a mancer, not an artisan, and I’m neither. I can’t do it.

It became clear, as the night wore on, that she really only had one option. She must go to the scrutator and confess.

She knocked on his door at six in the morning, carrying a loaded tray.

‘Yes?’

She put the tray on the bed, since his table was littered with work. Flydd laid the pen aside, rubbed his temples and sniffed appreciatively.

‘That smells nice. I’ll bet a bottle of last night’s brandy you didn’t get it from the refectory.’

‘I made it,’ she said. ‘Specially.’

He gave her a keen stare, picked up the tray and placed it on his maps and papers. He took the cloth off to reveal freshly baked buns, a piece of grilled fish, still hot, and a bowl of ginger tea.

‘Will you join me?’ He indicated the other chair.

‘No, thank you. I’ve already eaten.’ That was a lie, but she did not want to share food with him. It would make it even harder.

‘All the more for me.’ He broke a piece of pink flesh from the fish with his eating sticks and ate it with relish. ‘Very good!’ He tore a bun in half. ‘Is there nothing you can’t do well, Irisis?’

She did not answer, just sat watching, enjoying his pleasure in the meal. He sipped his tea, stirred honey into it with a crooked finger and looked up at her.

‘Of course I know you want something, crafter. What is it?’

The lump in her stomach felt like a pumpkin. She caught his eye and for once had to look away. She liked the man; they had been lovers. How could she let him down like this? But then, how could she not tell him? He had to know.

‘I want to confess. No, that’s not true. I have to confess. I cannot bear it any longer.’

He considered his plate, selecting a choice morsel of fish, and licked his lips. How could he be so casual?

‘Confess, Irisis? You surprise me. What can you possibly have to confess to me ?’

It burst out of her. ‘I’m a fraud, scrutator. I can’t draw power from the field. I lost the talent when I was a child of four and I’ve never been able to get it back. I’ve been lying and cheating ever since. I can’t do the job and I can’t possibly help you see into the node and find out what’s gone wrong with it.’

‘But you do do the job, Irisis. This manufactory produces the best controllers in the east, and more quickly than most. The Council is rather pleased with your work.’

‘But …’

‘Besides, we know you have drawn power. You did it up on the high plateau when the clanker controllers had to be re-tuned to that strange double node. Fyn-Mah told me so.’

‘That was … Ullii showed me the way, surr.’

‘I don’t answer to “surr” from my lover, Irisis.’

‘Xervish –’ The name felt wrong; she could hardly bring herself to use it. ‘It was Ullii’s doing, Xervish. She showed me the path and power just flooded from the field. I could not have done it on my own.’

‘But I’m sending Ullii with you to the node. Where is the problem?’

‘I’m not what I’m supposed to be.’

‘None of us are what we’re supposed to be. I’m a pragmatic man. It’s the result that counts. You worked well with the seeker so I trust you will again, artisan.’

‘I don’t answer to artisan from my lover, Xervish.’

‘I’m sorry. The scrutator in me.’

‘I prefer the other meaning,’ she said wickedly.

He smiled. ‘Ah, yes. Very good. Might …’ He hesitated, unsure of himself for once. ‘Might there be further opportunities in that regard, do you think?’

She pretended to consider it, blank-faced. Her eyes met his. ‘I’m mindful that we each have a duty to perform, Xervish.’

‘I prefer the other meaning,’ he grinned.

‘Er, I’m not sure I take your point, Xervish.’

‘You will, later! A duty, to perform !’

She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, listening to the clacking of his eating sticks. The scrutator was a noisy eater and drank his tea with loud, appreciative slurps. It did not bother her; that was good manners in the country he came from.

She felt very tired. Irisis had not slept all night, and sparring with Flydd was emotionally exhausting. What was more, it still had not solved the problem.

‘Another thing, Xervish.’

He gulped the last of the bowl, wiped his mouth on the cloth and swung around. ‘You’re thinking that you don’t know enough about nodes. That this is really mancer’s work and you can’t do it.’

‘Precisely.’

‘You won’t be going alone,’ said Flydd.

‘Who will be going with me?’

‘I’ll let you know when the time comes.’

Irisis was not at her best that day. They were now surveying on the eighth level. She was desperately tired and not up to dealing with a fractious, childlike Ullii who suffered constant headaches and would curl up in the dark at the least provocation. The miners, a rough lot at the best of times, were having trouble restraining their tempers. They were bitter about the loss of the reward, more so that the enemy had infiltrated their mine, not to mention anxious at the danger of working beneath such unstable rock. Dandri had already shouted at Ullii twice. If it happened again, it would put paid to any useful seeking for the rest of the day.

‘This is hopeless,’ Irisis said to Peate as they trudged down another tunnel so narrow that the sides scraped against her shoulders. ‘Isn’t there any way to tell where to look for crystal?’

‘The veins wander where they want to. And often, in this mine, the best veins are in the most dangerous areas. Like –’ He looked away down the tunnel.