by Ian Irvine
Karan stared at it, cast back in time and greatly disturbed. ‘It reminds me of the great tower of Katazza.’
‘It’s an ancient design,’ Flydd said absently. ‘Goes back to the dawn of the Charon and Merdrun.’
‘Xervish, pull back!’ Nish yelled. ‘They’ve got catapults, javelards and ballistae, and they’re already tracking us.’
‘Not while there’s a chance of denying the construct to them,’ Flydd said through bared teeth. ‘I’ll kill everyone inside it, if that’s the only way.’
Karan moaned.
‘If Llian, Rulke and Tiaan fall into the enemy’s hands they’ll suffer a worse fate. And if the Merdrun get the construct, Santhenar is lost. It’s all or nothing, Karan.’
‘Once a scrutator, always a scrutator,’ said Maelys, who was sitting on the floor with her hands folded in her lap. It was almost as if she would welcome oblivion.
Flydd coaxed more power out of the sky galleon and streaked across the great camp, cutting across the diagonals of the construct’s erratic path. Heading directly for it as if to smash it out of the sky. And there was nothing Karan could do about it – or anything.
From the corner of an eye Skald saw the sky galleon hurtling at them. Flydd was no longer trying to take the construct. He wanted to destroy it.
Tiaan whimpered and slumped forwards. She was no longer controlling the craft, which lurched and plunged towards the tower. It was going to slam right into it and Skald could not bear to think of the ruin that would cause. No True Purpose then; it would set his people back hundreds of years.
‘Wake, Tiaan!’ he cried.
She did not stir. Perhaps she never would wake.
He lifted her again. His hands, after following her movements for so many hours, made the necessary movements of the levers and the construct turned. But they were not safe yet. It only flew because she was still subconsciously channelling power to the controls, and if she fell unconscious, or had a seizure or died, the power would stop flowing and they would crash.
Though Skald had barely enough strength left to stay upright, he directed the lot into a healing spell to keep her alive. The broad road running up the slope from Skyrock, between the slaves’ and officers’ compounds, appeared before him and he pointed the construct at it and cut off the controls.
The construct slammed into the ground, hurling sprays of gravel out for fifty yards to either side and tossing Skald, with Tiaan enfolded in his protecting arms, off the seat. It skidded along for several seconds then came to rest, the structure creaking and groaning, and finally going silent.
The construct was safe on the ground. Skald had beaten them, and Llian and Rulke were now in the enemy’s impregnable camp. If there was anything left of Llian. The taste in Karan’s mouth was bitter.
Crash!
A javelard spear, a good fifteen feet long, tore through the port side of the bow. Two more spears passed overhead, the second one ripping away part of the cabin roof, and a boulder hurled by one of their mighty catapults thudded against the keel, rocking the sky galleon. It was fine shooting; deadly shooting.
‘Xervish!’ Nish roared. ‘It’s over! Get us out of here, now!’
Flydd gave them a blank-eyed stare, then jerked savagely on the controls and the sky galleon hurtled away. It was hit by three more spears and two other rocks before it cleared the ridge and passed out of sight.
Skald had never made friends, his family shame had seen to that, yet to his astonishment a powerful bond had formed between himself and Tiaan over the past eight hours. He actually cared about her.
He laid her tenderly on the floor, wound down the ladder, then clawed his way up to the platform and, on hands and knees, looked over the crumpled coaming and out on a scene of chaos. Terrified workers and slaves were running in all directions. They had never seen anything like this gigantic metal craft.
‘Call High Commander!’ Skald gasped. ‘Send – Durthix.’
He was already running down the road from the officer’s compound, followed by the magiz, who did not look pleased to see Skald alive. They scrambled up the ladder, and in.
‘Maigraith betrayed us,’ Skald said in a wisp of a voice. ‘Source too heavy to carry. It – it was there – power –construct. I – I took it. And Rulke – and a Teller, Llian. Secure them. Artisan Tiaan needs – best healer. Gave her my word – send her home – unharmed.’
‘You did what?’ cried the magiz.
‘Swore by – True Purpose. Only way – get construct here.’
‘Durthix?’ said the magiz, practically foaming at the mouth with rage.
‘Not now, Magiz!’ snapped Durthix.
Tiaan was unconscious. Blood oozed out from beneath the nails of her clenched fingers, and from a bitten tongue, and even her tears were red. She was probably going to die, burned inside from channelling so much power, and if she did, it would scar him. He had grown surprisingly close to her over the past eight hours, as they’d acted as one to bring the construct safely home.
Rulke was sitting up, smiling, though he was surely putting on the act of his life. He had to be neutralised, and there was only one way to do that.
‘Pannilie gated Lirriam here, yes?’ said Skald.
‘Ten hours ago,’ said Durthix.
‘Has she been harmed?’
‘Not yet,’ Dagog said ominously.
‘Don’t lay – finger on her. Put – secure prison,’ said Skald. ‘Treat – courtesy.’
‘To what purpose?’ said Durthix, not even challenging Skald for daring to issue orders to his high commander.
‘Ensures – Rulke’s cooperation.’
Durthix gave the necessary orders, checked that Llian and Rulke were secure, and set a dozen guards and three sus-magiz to watch each of them. Four stretchers were called for.
‘Where is Senior Sus-magiz Pannilie?’ said the magiz.
‘Think – Maigraith killed her,’ said Skald.
‘And your troops?’ said Durthix.
‘Dead – at Rulke’s hand.’
‘What about the junior sus-magiz?’ said the magiz.
‘Drank – life,’ said Skald. ‘To escape.’
‘Yet again he returns with every one of his squad dead,’ said the magiz. ‘Durthix –’
‘Skald has returned with treasures undreamed of,’ said Durthix icily, ‘and I won’t hear any more of your malice.’
By now thousands of Merdrun troops, and many gaping slaves, had gathered around and, strangely, Durthix did not order them away. The stretcher bearers arrived and Tiaan, Rulke and Llian were taken to the healing tent under heavy guard. Rulke still wore that disturbing smile. Durthix gestured to the last stretcher.
But Skald could only think about his father, executed for cowardice. Had he been a coward, or were the charges trumped up by a malicious rival?
Skald would never know, but he had to go the rest of the way, unaided. ‘Will walk. Finish what – I started, High Commander.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Durthix.
Skald knew he was a gruesome sight. Blood and vomit were splattered all down his front, and the back of his pants was saturated in congealed blood. He could barely stand up, and every step sent jolts of agony through his middle, but he had to do this.
Endure!
The Merdrun parted to form an impromptu honour guard, and only once they were inside the black command tent did Skald allow Durthix to take his arm.
‘Now will you –?’ said Durthix.
Skald found an ounce of strength, hopefully enough to deliver his report. ‘Source powers construct – is mighty. Supply power – until node tapped. Progress?’
‘Another week should do it,’ said Dagog sourly.
‘Construct – even greater prize,’ said Skald.
‘It’s no use to us if Tiaan dies,’ said the magiz. ‘And I expect she will. No other pilot has the strength to fly such a mighty craft.’
‘Rulke does. Cares greatly – Lirriam. Her, hostage – he’ll obey.’<
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‘Spell it out,’ said Durthix.
‘Construct can lift timber – metal – stone – even sections of iron tower – top of Skyrock. Finish tower – twenty times faster.’
Durthix stared at the roof of the tent, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Yes!’
Skald swayed, grabbed a tent pole and clung to it desperately.
‘You have done well, Captain,’ said Durthix. ‘Hasn’t he, Magiz?’
‘Sus-magiz Skald has exceeded all expectations,’ said the magiz with bitter heartiness.
‘And on the Day of All Days, after our Great Purpose has been achieved, you will receive the highest honour of all.’
Skald found a little more strength, enough to speak clearly now and to say all that needed to be said. ‘The only honour I need, High Commander, is that which comes from having done my duty. One for All!’
He saluted and collapsed.
An hour later Flydd landed on a bare hilltop where any pursuit would be visible from miles away, and they lit a campfire and choked down a grim breakfast. No one spoke. Everyone was exhausted after days of flying and the sleepless night. There was nothing to say, anyway.
‘Rulke was our last hope,’ he said finally. ‘And now the enemy have him, plus a construct the like of which the world has never seen. They can’t be beaten.’
It fired Karan up. ‘I’m not giving up, so get up off the scrawny arse I’ve twice saved for you, and find a way.’
Flydd looked at her blankly, then climbed to his feet and turned away. Had he finally succumbed to the despair he so feared?
‘Got to sleep.’ He trudged towards the battered sky galleon, his scrawny shoulders slumped.
‘I’ll take the first watch,’ said Maelys. ‘I don’t feel too bad. Go on, all of you.’
She pocketed the Mirror of Aachan, pulled her coat around her and climbed onto the javelard platform. Nish followed Flydd up into the sky galleon.
Karan remained where she was, sipping her tea and staring into the fire. And then it happened –
Mummy, Mummy, they’ve got Daddy!
‘Sulien?’ Karan whispered. ‘How do you know that?’
I sensed it. I – I’m sorry, Mummy, I’ve got to break my promise. Daddy’s hurt, and they’ll kill him if I don’t do something.
No! Don’t do anything. Stay where you are. Stay hidden.
But Sulien was gone. She would try to probe the enemy, and they would find her.
And kill her to protect their secret.
* * *
The End of
* * *
The Perilous Tower
* * *
The Gates of Good and Evil quartet concludes in
* * *
Book 4, The Sapphire Portal
* * *
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* * *
Chapter 1 of The Sapphire Portal follows.
FIRST CHAPTER OF BOOK 4, THE SAPPHIRE PORTAL
‘Proud of yourself, Chronicler?’ said Rulke.
After half a day as prisoners in the Merdrun’s camp, and lengthy secret talks between Rulke and their captors, he and Llian had been returned to the construct. Its power controller crystal had already been removed to ensure that it could not be operated, and the construct searched to make sure there were no spares.
Llian flushed. His earlier, daring rescue of Rulke had been utterly negated by last night’s failure.
‘How does it feel to singlehandedly turn victory into defeat?’ Rulke said disgustedly. ‘To give my construct to the enemy – and lose the war we stood to win?’
‘You know I’m not a man of action, yet –’
‘You can say that again! But Skald was on the verge of collapse. You only had to whack him.’
‘I hit him twice while you were wrestling him. But –’
‘And then you knocked me unconscious.’
Even in Skald’s gravely weakened state he had been more than a match for Llian. There was no point saying that, either.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Llian. ‘I failed you.’
‘Again!’ Rulke said relentlessly.
‘What are you –?’
Rulke put a finger to his lips. ‘Someone’s coming.’
The construct quivered as a group of Merdrun climbed the ladder, led by a senior sus-magiz and a group of artisans, and entered the cabin. The sus-magiz, a pipe-thin, flat-headed fellow who looked as though he were half human and half snake, examined the controls, while the artisans opened every door and compartment and noted what was inside.
Two hours later, after they were gone, High Commander Durthix entered, along with the magiz, Dagog, a repulsive little man who stank of rotten meat.
‘Well?’ Durthix said to Rulke.
‘You need my cooperation,’ said Rulke, folding his arms. He was a half-head taller than Durthix, and broader across the shoulders, and Durthix did not like it. In the Merdrun army, size mattered.
Durthix gave a derisive snort.
‘You have no pilot capable of flying this craft,’ Rulke added, ‘and you can’t complete your True Purpose without it.’
Durthix started. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Tiaan is gravely ill, burned inside, and will never fly again. M’Lainte does not have the strength to fly a construct and neither does any other pilot on Santhenar, save myself. You need my aid and you need it now.’
The magiz whispered, ‘High Commander, don’t let him speak –’
Durthix waved Dagog to silence. ‘Lirriam is imprisoned in a fortress without doors or windows. She will be hostage for your good behaviour, Rulke.’
Rulke stepped forwards and stood chest to chest with Durthix. ‘And who will be hostage for your good behaviour?’
‘How dare you!’ the magiz exploded. ‘High Commander –’
Llian gagged. The stink of rotten meat was overpowering in the closed cabin, and it issued from every part of Dagog.
‘Not now, Magiz!’ snapped Durthix.
He stared into Rulke’s eyes but could not break his gaze. Llian sat in the background, recording everything in his perfect Teller’s memory. The contest, deadly though it might become, was fascinating.
Rulke smiled grimly. ‘Your people and mine have been enemies for aeons, Durthix, and there can never be trust between us. Unless I can monitor Lirriam’s health and safety, I will not cooperate.’
‘Then she dies!’ the magiz blustered, ‘and you will feel such tortures –’
Rulke picked Dagog up in one hand, spun him around and booted him across the cabin. Dagog scrambled to his feet, his face purple in outrage, and thrust out his bony right hand.
‘Try it and you’re dead,’ snapped Rulke.
Dagog’s eyes went entirely white. Rulke had made a dire enemy. Durthix, scowling, signed to Dagog to stay back.
‘If Lirriam dies,’ said Rulke, ‘I have nothing to lose … and I can extinguish myself in a moment.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ said Durthix.
‘I’m the last of my kind. I was preparing to go back to the void to die when I sensed her out there, and my beacon led her to Santhenar. If I lose her, I’ll have nothing left.’
‘If she died, you’d want revenge.’
Rulke’s smile flashed again. ‘My best revenge would be thwarting you – and blowing your stinking magiz to shreds.’
‘High Commander,’ said the magiz, and now there was a whine in his voice, ‘call his bluff.’
‘Why don’t I call yours?’ said Rulke. ‘You have one chance to complete the True Purpose, Durthix. The time window is but weeks away, it’s only eight hours long … and after it closes it won’t reopen for 287 years.’
With an effort, Durthix controlled himself, but Llian was a master at reading faces. Durthix was shocked at how much Rulke knew, and must be wondering what other dan
gerous secrets he was privy to.
Rulke squared his shoulders. ‘There’s only one way to complete Skyrock in time – if I fly the construct for you.’
‘High Commander, that would be madness!’ said the magiz.
‘I will permit you to see Lirriam once a day, remotely,’ Durthix said to Rulke, ‘to reassure yourself that she hasn’t been harmed, but you will not be able to communicate with her. In return you will fly the construct strictly according to the requirements of my Superintendent of Works. To ensure that you do, the controller crystal will be removed at the end of each day.’
‘I accept your terms,’ said Rulke. ‘Though I have one additional requirement.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Llian.’
This, Llian had not expected.
Durthix turned and looked down at him with curled lip. ‘What about him?’
‘He remains in the construct,’ said Rulke.
‘To what purpose?’
‘His incompetence keeps me sane.’
The magiz giggled, a sound both incongruous and alarming, and another blast of rotten meat assailed Llian’s nostrils.
After the Merdrun had gone and Rulke had checked everywhere for spying devices, and destroyed several, he began to prepare dinner, whistling a merry tune. It was not the first time he had been unexpectedly cheerful in the last half day.
Llian sat down and thought through the incidents. ‘Aha!’ he said.
Rulke quirked an eyebrow at him.
‘How dare you blame me!’ said Llian. ‘It was you, all along.’
‘Your ramblings are more opaque than usual, Chronicler.’
‘When you and Skald were wrestling last night, and I was dancing around with the table leg, trying to get a clear go at him, you deliberately stumbled into the path of my club.’