Alchymist twoe-3

by Ian Irvine

  Tiaan sat in the machine, eating bread and sausage. 'I've nothing to say to you, Minis,' she said as he climbed up.

  'I've found a way to save you. It's all planned.'

  She was unable to believe, unable to trust. 'How?'

  'We'll take the constructs halfway, then stop as if there's a problem. I'll call to the first construct to check the cable. As soon as he unfastens it, we'll flee.'

  Tiaan had had time to anticipate all the problems. 'It's not much of a plan. If the constructs fire before we're out of range, we won't have a chance.' They didn't need the field for that, their catapults and spear-throwers being mechanically operated. But she hadn't come up with anything better, and once she towed the last set of constructs to the southern field it would be too late.

  He stared into her eyes, quivering with emotion. 'You must trust me, Tiaan. I'm prepared to renounce my birthright for you.'

  The declaration failed to comfort her as he'd hoped. It was to for Minis. Whatever he did, she would find fault with it. I've become a monster, she thought. There's no way back now.

  'Very, well,' she said. 'We'll do it.'

  The cable was attached to the first construct, and from it to the two lines of the others. 'Wait one moment,' said Minis.

  'What is it?' 'You'll see.'

  The Aachim were calling to one another and two of them began walking, five or six paces apart, in the direction of the distant pavilion. Both wore helms not unlike the one Tiaan used, and the woman on the right held out a rod-like object, which she pointed towards the pavilion. The man on her left did the same.

  Someone behind them called a series of Aachim words that she did not recognise, followed by one she did. 'Now!'

  A blue ray shot out from the woman's rod and a green ray from the man's. Where they intersected, above the pavilion, the air shimmered. There came a distant sound of thunder and a glimmering dome formed, swelling until it covered a good part of the battlefield where the Aachim had fought. Coloured lines writhed across it, like tamed lightning. 'It's beautiful,' said Tiaan, 'but what is it?'

  'Let me see.' Minis lifted the helm off her head and put it on his own. 'Ah, what a marvel they've built!' He passed the helm back to her. 'It's a kind of protection — to keep out intruders and scavengers until we find a way to retrieve our dead, and our constructs. Now we can go.'

  The protection had vanished as soon as the helm was taken off Tiaan's head. She put it on, took one last look at the shimmering luminescence of the dome, and reached for the controls. Tiaan eased her machine into motion, uncomfortable about placing her life in Minis's unreliable hands. What if this passion wore off, or he got cold feet again? She must be prepared to act on her own, the instant an opportunity came.

  Within minutes her head was throbbing, for she wasn't able to give her full attention to the task. Tiaan rubbed her temples and allowed the fields to fade from her mind. The relief was almost painful. In spite of the helm and the techniques she'd been taught, holding five fields at once was a killing strain.

  'What is it?' Minis said, looking anxious as the note of the construct faded.

  'It's hurting today.' That was true enough. 'It seems harder than before. Maybe the helm didn't charge fully this morning.'

  They drifted to a stop. Heads appeared at the hatch of the next construct. The two armed guards in the turret were on alert, their crossbows at the ready. 'Give me the helm,' he said. 'I'll charge it again.'

  She was reluctant to let it go. 'Why don't you bring the tesseract here?'

  'All right.'

  He signalled for the tesseract, placed the helm inside for the required time, then withdrew it.

  Tiaan put it on her head. 'That's better,' she said, though it felt the same as before. 'Is this the time, Minis?''

  'Not yet,' he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. He was sweating so profusely that the whole front of his shirt was wet -another bad sign. He simply couldn't find the courage to defy his own people.

  The whine resumed and the construct rose in the air. Behind her she heard the other machines doing the same. They went another half-league or so. Time was running out. She must save herself and she had to do it now.

  Tiaan caused the flow of power to rise and fall rapidly, making the constructs jerk wildly. Behind them, someone roared out a warning in the Aachim tongue.

  'Stop!' cried Minis.

  She pretended to, while making the construct jolt harder. A

  loud crash came from behind. Two machines further back in the line had collided at high speed. 'What is it?' Tiaan said, cutting off the field, though she knew full well what had happened.

  'I don't know. I'll have to see what the matter is.'

  'This our chance, Minis.' 'Just a bit further.' He flushed; again he could not meet her eyes.

  It was over. He was too weak. She had to get him out of the construct, then make her break, as fast as she could. 'You'd better see how long it'll take to fix that.' She jerked a thumb at the two constructs, locked together by the impact. As soon as his feet touched the ground, she would do it. If she ducked down, they might not get a clean shot. It was a slim hope but it was all she had.

  He began to climb down but the guards shouted and pointed at Tiaan. They weren't going to leave her by herself in the construct for a second. She cursed as Minis came back and carried her down to the ground. Another chance gone.

  The Aachim were already gathering around the two con-structs, assessing the damage. It did not look severe, though it was going to take time to prise them apart. 'Could you put me down in the shade,' said Tiaan. 'It's hot out here; I feel a little faint.'

  Minis saw no harm in that, since he believed she was unable to walk. He sat her under a spindly tree about fifteen paces from her construct, and went down the line to the site of the accident.

  Tiaan flexed her leg muscles. It would be difficult to escape from here, for she was in full view of the guards in the leading construct, but if they gave her the slightest chance she was ready.

  The Aachim had brought up metal bars and half a dozen of their strongest were attempting to pry the two constructs apart. The others, after watching for a while, went back to their own machines and began spreading cloths on the ground for lunch. Thyzzea and her family were among them.

  The two guards came down from their turret.. It would have been sweltering up there, for it was a baking hot day with not a breath of wind. No one was looking her way. Since they knew she could not walk, there was no chance of her escaping from where she was. Tiaan was about to get up when one of the guards checked over his shoulder. Seeing nothing to bother him, he went down to watch the prising operation.

  Tiaan saw Thyzzea moving in and out between the constructs, coming to carry Tiaan down to share lunch with the family. She had to go now!

  Thyzzea disappeared between the constructs and Tiaan stood up. Her throat was dry, her palms damp. She dared not run — the movement would attract attention. She simply walked casually to her construct and ducked behind it, out of sight.

  There was no outcry. She climbed the side, her hands slipping on the metal rungs, which were almost too hot to' hold, then went over the top and in.

  Tiaan put on her belt, but as she eased the helm over her head it clinked against the metal hatch, a noise that would carry a long way. She looked over her shoulder. Minis's head whipped around but he did not give the alarm. Perhaps he hadn't seen her. She felt sick. It was now or not at all.

  Thyzzea came out from between the lines of constructs, looking for Tiaan, and saw her in the construct. She looked distressed, but loyalty to her family and her kind came first.

  'Hoy!' she roared.

  One of the guards sprang up and, following her outflung arm, sighted with the crossbow. He lowered it again. Unable to get a clear shot at Tiaan from the ground, he was running towards the leading construct and his shooter's turret.

  'Tiaan, wait for me,' cried Minis, throwing out his arms like a lover betrayed, as if he'd planned to save her after all.
Had he? She'd never know and could not stop to find out. If she did, she'd be taken or killed.

  Pressing the helm tightly on her head, Tiaan drew power and directed it all into her machine. The whine rose to a shriek and the construct surged forward.

  'Look out!' she heard someone cry. There was a momentary resistance as the cable went taut. She applied more power but it did not pull free as she'd expected. The construct shuddered, then the amplimet took over, sucking a torrent of power from the field. She tried to stop it but it was out of control. Never swear on the amplimet! The construct took off, the cable thrummed then snapped just behind her, the free end whipping back the other way.

  Over the roar of the mechanism she heard an agonised cry. Turning in a shallow curve, Tiaan looked back. The flailing cable had caught Minis about the waist and hip, snatching him off his feet. It whirled him sideways across the rock-strewn ground, thumping him into one boulder, then another.

  Tiaan gasped and popped the crystal to slow the machine.

  Minis lay unmoving, blood drenching him from the hip down. Even from here she could see the bone sticking out of his leg.

  Had she killed him? What was she to do?

  Aachim were running everywhere, shouting. Thyzzea and her father reached Minis, lifted him to a sitting position, then hastily laid him down again. Thyzzea stood up and shouted something at her, a cry of rage and betrayal. She, Tiaan, had repaid their kindness by maiming Minis, and Clan Elienor would be condemned for it.

  If Minis was not dead already, he was surely dying.

  Soldiers raced towards her. A crossbow bolt sang off the hatch just a hand's breadth from her ear. From the corner of her eye she saw Aachim scrambling into the weapons turrets. If she was to save herself, she must run for her life and leave Minis lying on the bloody ground. The thought of Vithis's rage was terrifying. There was only one thing to do. She slammed the amplimet into its cavity. Pulling so much power from the nodes that her hair smoked, Tiaan fled south towards the wilderness.

  Thirty-eight

  The Aachim fired. One or two missiles struck the racing construct but the others fell behind, then Tiaan was out of range. They could not pursue her — they were leagues from the nearest field and would have to send a runner to the southern camp, which must take hours. But once the Aachim knew what she had done, whether Minis lived or died, they would hunt her to the corners of the globe.

  How had it gone so wrong, so quickly? Perhaps she'd judged Minis too harshly. How could she have expected him to help her by betraying his own people? And, having forced him to, the flaws in her own character had been exposed. She was worse than he was. She was the most contemptible speck of ordure in all Lauralin.

  This was the worst day of all. Her beloved grandmother had taught her to face her problems, and Tiaan had always tried to do that. Now she had run away. Tormented and tormenting herself, she headed south across the plains. After crossing the Westway that ran south-west towards Gnulp Landing, and northeast in the direction of Clews Top and The Elbow, and then the River Zort, she turned west. The original Aachim camp was near Gospett and she must avoid it too. The town itself had been practically emptied of its population, to drag the clanker fleet to the node.

  This land, within raiding distance from lyrinx-infested Meldorin, seemed unoccupied. She saw no sign of human habitation all day. Late in the afternoon she passed into forest. The field was strong here, so Tiaan travelled as fast as she could, racing through the trees until it was too dark to see.

  The amplimet was no longer drawing power of its own accord. She stopped the construct and slumped in the seat, staring into the blackness. She could not bear to think about what she had become.

  Her brain swarmed with crystal dreams, so guilt-inducing that she forced herself to wake from them. It was overcast: no stars, no moon, nor any way of telling the time. The spaces between the trees were as black as the tar pits.

  Even when awake, she kept slipping in and out of those dreams, just as she had that time at the manufactory, before her calluna-induced madness. Perhaps it really was crystal fever this time.

  Tiaan could not find it in herself to care. Madness would be an escape; a refuge. She almost found herself looking forward to it. Until she sensed something.

  What was it? Pulling herself up onto the top of the construct, she stared around her. Something was definitely different, though she could see nothing, hear nothing. She slid down, put on the helm and checked the field. It looked the same as before. Or did it?

  When she studied it closely, Tiaan noticed tiny distortions here and there. It took a while for her to work out what they were, for she was not used to seeing the field that way. Without the helm she would never have noticed it.

  Something was drawing on the field. She enlarged the image in her mind and checked it carefully. There were tiny fluctuations, like nibbles out of its myriad frilled edges, and they marked the drainage of power. People were following her in constructs. A runner must have reached the main camp. Tiaan did not think they could find her in the dark, while she was not drawing on the field. Closing the hatch, she lay on the floor and tried to sleep. It did not come, but as she watched the ebb and flow of the field, she noticed more of those distortions. The field had nibbles out of it everywhere, which meant lots of constructs. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. She recalled Vithis using an aura-tracker at Nyriandiol. He was following with everything the Aachim had and he could track the amplimet's aura wherever she took it. That many constructs could even surround the great forest. There was nowhere to hide. Why had she stopped here? She should have kept to the plains, where she could move in darkness, and continued all night.

  Tiaan fought down panic. She tried to recall a map of the Gospett area but it would not come to mind. She could, however, visualise a chart of Western Lauralin. The Sea of Thurkad lay about ten leagues to her west, and was narrow there. Dare she go that way? Crossing seas while depending on the field was hazardous; everyone knew that. And on the other side, Meldorin Island was infested with lyrinx. Surely not even Vithis would dare hunt her there?

  To her north lay open plains all the way to Almadin. Northeast was the enormous Worm Wood, and the rugged lands around the Great Chain of Lakes, with its rift valleys and volcanic ranges, including Booreah Ngurle. But there were Aachim in the north already and Vithis could signal them at night. They would cut her off before she could find a hiding place.

  Open country also lay to the east, the impoverished state of Nihilnor that ran to the ranges encircling Mirrilladell. In that land's myriad lakes, vast swamps and endless forests she might lose herself forever, if she was prepared to sink the construct into the depths and adopt a peasant life in the middle of nowhere. Though what would be the point of that? Besides, Mirrilladell was too far away. As soon as she stopped to sleep, as eventually she must, they would have her.

  South lay the Karama Malama, the treacherous Sea of Mists, almost as big as the linked seas of Milmillamel and Tallallamel, down which she'd sailed for weeks on her journey to Tirthrax and Minis. Only death by drowning lay that way, once she passed out of range of the node.

  So west it would have to be, to Meldorin and the lyrinx, the instant it was light enough to move. Daylight stole like a ghost through the trees. She'd hoped for fog or mist but it had been a warm night and the air was clear and still. Bringing the construct to life, she edged it forwards, took bearings from the flush of dawn in the east, and turned west.

  The forest was dense here and it was slow going. Sometimes she found herself in places too tight to get through and had to back the machine out again, sweating all the while in case her enemies came upon her.

  She had been travelling for some hours when Tiaan detected a much stronger influence on the field. Though she could not tell which direction they were coming from, they had to be close by. The forest was thinner here. She travelled faster, winding between the white-trunked pines and up a gentle incline where the rocks were black and the soil red. According to her ment
al map, she should only be a few leagues from the shores of the Sea of Thurkad. Of course, her mental map might be wrong. Once Tiaan would have known but she couldn't tell any more.

  The slope became steeper; the upper parts of the hill forming a series of cliffs a span or two high, broken by ramp-like inclines. She took the nearest of these, whirring across the tussocky grass and up again, through a moist patch of forest dotted with tree ferns.

  On the top of the hill, which was like a rocky pimple rising above the trees, she turned the construct through a circle. Tiaan saw nothing but a series of scalloped ridges covered in forest. Behind her the rocks outcropped in a stack like roughly piled books, several times her height. She cut off the field. All was quiet.

  Tiaan got out and began to climb the stack but her knee folded and she tumbled down again, taking a gouge out of her wrist. Her legs lacked the strength to push her up. She had to drag herself all the way.

  She checked the horizons. To south, east and north she could see only trees, but in the west she spotted water. The Sea of Thurkad lay no more than a couple of leagues away. Tiaan prayed there was no obstacle in her path, for constructs could rise no more than hip-high and even the smallest cliff would defeat them.

  The sun was hot on her bare head and her knees felt shaky. She took a sip from the flask at her hip, regretted that she had nothing to eat, and sat down. Had she stood a moment longer, she would have seen movement in the trees beyond the foot of the hill.

  She leaned forward, rubbing her aching calves. It still felt strange to have feeling in her legs, and she often had nightmares that she was paralysed again. She kneaded the muscles until they hurt.

  Something cracked in the distance. She sat up straight. It had sounded like a breaking branch, or a dislodged stone. Peering over the edge, Tiaan saw constructs everywhere. A line of them were creeping up the hill, taking one of the few clear paths to the top. Further down she saw others, waiting to block off any escape.

  Sliding off the side of the stack, she lowered herself as far as her arms could reach, feeling around with her toes for a foothold. Her fingers lost their grip. She fell, landed on the edge of a lower ledge, which broke off, and crashed onto the slope below. It moved under her and she slid all the way to the bottom on her backside, ending up next to her construct in a deluge of gravel.