Tetrarch (Well of Echoes)

by Ian Irvine

  ‘Get me out,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear this place.’

  ‘What kind of lock is inside?’

  ‘There is none. Just a simple latch, but it won’t lift.’

  ‘I was afraid of that. There’s nothing you can remove to open the door?’

  ‘Not without tools. Everything is tightly fixed.’

  ‘And even if you did, I suspect the door still would not open.’

  ‘Ghorr simply said “Close” and went away.’

  ‘Could be any one of a dozen holding or sealing spells,’ said Flydd.

  ‘Can’t you break it?’

  ‘Depending which spell he used, I might be able to. And then again, I might not. Ghorr is a lot older than I am.’

  ‘He doesn’t look it.’

  ‘Rejuvenation is a wonderful thing. He’s older, stronger, more powerful …’

  ‘If all you can do is make excuses you might as well clear out now.’

  ‘I’m doing my best, crafter,’ he said coldly.

  She knew that, but it did not help her mood. Irisis had the urge to destroy what she could not save. ‘It isn’t good enough, scrutator.’

  He did not answer. All was silent. After a minute or two, she began to fear that he had abandoned her.

  ‘Xervish?’ she said softly.

  Nothing.

  ‘Xervish, I’m … I’m sorry. I can’t take this.’

  ‘Just be quiet, will you. I’m trying to work it out.’

  ‘What?’ she whispered, relief flooding her. Of course he would not abandon her. They were friends and she had saved his life.

  ‘The holding spell. I think I know what it is.’

  ‘Can you break it?’

  ‘I might be able to. There’s a problem, though.’

  She waited for him to elaborate. There were some tiny scratchings at the door but nothing else.

  ‘What problem, Xervish?’

  ‘If the spell is broken, it sends an alarm to the person who set the spell. To Ghorr.’

  ‘And you can’t break that?’

  ‘Not without alerting him.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing you can do.’

  ‘I’d say not.’

  ‘Oh well. You tried.’

  ‘Not much comfort.’

  She wanted him gone. If he could do nothing, there was no point him being here, risking himself. She did not want him hanging around just for her sake. ‘Off you go then.’

  ‘I –’ He seemed disconcerted. ‘All right. I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ Just go, dammit.

  ‘I’m sorry, Irisis,’ he said softly.

  She did not answer.

  It was, unquestionably, the most despairing night of her life. Irisis did not take too well to bondage or helplessness. Ghorr appeared early in the morning. The clicking of the latch woke her. She felt as if she’d just got to sleep.

  He entered the room. It was a room, not a cell. Ghorr was smiling. ‘I see you had a visitor during the night.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said coldly.

  ‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Irisis. I haven’t got to where I am without knowing everything that goes on, both within my domain and without. I can read when Flydd arrived, what he tried to do and when he left again. It’s enough to have him dismissed from the Council and put under a sentence of death.’

  ‘Then why don’t you?’

  ‘I’ve work for him to do first. Work I daren’t risk another scrutator on. Come, we must talk some more.’

  ‘I am happy to talk,’ she said, ‘though I don’t think that is what you have in mind at all.’

  ‘What I have in mind, Crafter Irisis, is the employment of certain techniques I have developed, to recover the truth from those who have lost it. Or refuse to give it up.’

  FIFTY-TWO

  Nish and Minis spent the best part of a week going through all the spies’ reports and studying maps of the path Tiaan had taken after assaulting the Aachim camp. Subsequently they went out searching in Minis’s construct, with an escort of three others. For another week they slid along the western edge of the vast Worm Wood, investigating sightings, most of which turned out to be hoaxes or natural phenomena. They found nothing, though, because of accidents and breakdowns, Nish learned more than a little about construct artificing. The fields they drew on were weaker than on their home world, and that caused many problems.

  They returned to the main camp, currently in northern Almadin, to confess their failure. Having twice been called to account by a furious Vithis, Nish was dreading their next meeting. When a runner summoned him to the command tent, he felt sure he was going to suffer, but Vithis turned out to be in a rare good humour.

  ‘Gilhaelith, the mancer and trader who dwells on Booreah Ngurle, has just been snatched by a band of lyrinx,’ said Vithis.He did not say how he knew. ‘Do you have any idea why?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of him,’said Nish.

  ‘It may not have anything to do with the flying construct,’ Minis said carefully. ‘Maybe the lyrinx want to use him in their own work.’

  ‘Flesh-forming!’ Nish said with a shudder. The very idea repelled him.

  ‘It’s probably nothing, but you’d better take another look at Booreah Ngurle,’ said Vithis. ‘Keep me informed. Don’t go near Nyriandiol.’

  Booreah Ngurle could not be reached directly from the west, the Worm Wood being too dense and rugged for constructs. They followed a winding path east along the rim of Warde Yallock, through a land of volcanic peaks, vertical escarpments and rift valleys tangled with scrub. The surrounding country was so rough that much was accessible only on foot, and would have taken tens of thousands of soldiers to search thoroughly. Beyond the eastern end of the lake, they picked up the Great North Road and followed it south to the point where the track turned off to Booreah Ngurle.

  Nish and Minis left the construct in dense forest on the lower skirts of the mountain, with its guard, and continued on foot, taking a curving route up the side. During the afternoon, Minis stopped by a shrub that was bent sideways as if something heavy had gone over it. Further up the slope, another lay flat to the ground, though still living.

  ‘Curious,’ said Minis, ‘but it could have been a horse or other large animal.’

  ‘An animal would have gone around. Look, there’s a broken branch.’ Nish pointed up the slope.

  The trail led to the mouth of a cave, an old lava tunnel. On a projecting rock Nish found distinct scrape marks.

  ‘Again, it could have been an animal,’ said Minis.

  ‘It’s got a mighty hard skin, then. No, something was carried this way, weeks ago. Let’s see where it came from.’

  They backtracked down through the forest and after hours of searching found deep indentations in a pair of fallen, rotting trees. ‘There’s only one way they could have got there,’ said Nish. ‘Something big and heavy fell from the sky, and it had the shape of a construct. Gilhaelith was lying. He’s got it up there. Or had it – the lyrinx probably have it now.’

  ‘I hope she’s all right.’ Minis’s eyes were ablaze.

  Nish fought an internal battle. He no longer wanted Vithis to get the flying construct, but it was too late to do anything about that, so he might as well get some credit.

  ‘Let’s go up and find out.’

  ‘Foster-father must first be told.’

  ‘If you take the time, you’ll lose her,’ said Nish.

  Minis wavered, but only for a moment. ‘Father expressly forbade me to go to Nyriandiol. I cannot defy him.’

  ‘It’ll be gone by the time we get back, and so will she.’

  It took a day to track Vithis down, for he had taken a contingent to the south-eastern tip of Warde Yallock. Vithis cursed them for not going after her at once.

  ‘But you forbade me …’ Minis began.

  ‘You’ve gone past two thousand constructs to find me. You might have used a bit of initiative, foster-son!’

&n
bsp; Vithis detached sixty constructs from the fleet and they went full speed to the Burning Mountain, travelling day and night, but it still took a day. As they raced up the winding road, Nish knew they were going to be too late. The rotting bodies out the front, and the barred door, only confirmed it.

  ‘Break down the door!’ said a grim-faced Vithis.

  The chalcedony door proved unexpectedly sturdy; a dozen blows were required to breach it.

  ‘Search every room, every attic, every cellar,’ Vithis ordered. ‘When I think of that grinning baboon, surring me and seducing you with his talk, foster-son, and all the time he had the construct hidden away here. I’ll destroy him!’

  The upper floors proved to be empty, but during the long search one of the Aachim came running up from the basement. ‘There’s a barricaded door on the lowest level, Vithis.’

  The Aachim’s face lit up. ‘Smash it in!’

  They hurtled down the steps. Nish could not keep up. By the time he reached the door an Aachim was hacking into it with an axe. In between the axe strokes Nish heard a familiar whine.

  ‘It’s still here,’ Vithis roared. ‘Hurry!’ Whipping out a violet-coloured rod, he pointed it at the door.

  It burst apart. At the other end of a long room sat the construct. Some of the front panels were missing, revealing coiling innards. The metal sheets were strapped to the rear and a strange, four-legged contraption to one side. As they poured through onto a landing, a slender, black-haired woman looked over her shoulder.

  ‘Tiaan!’ Minis screamed.

  Tiaan had crawled down the side of the construct, taken the hedron out of the walker and dragged herself up again. Climbing in was exhausting work, though she had done it many times now. Her useless legs swung back and forth. She slid into the construct, inserted the hedron in its cup and closed the cap.

  As she pulled herself onto her seat, the first blow had struck the basement door. She could see the axe blade shivering the planks, before being wrenched out again. A wedge of timber fell; an eye was put to the hole and the attack had resumed. It would only take another few strokes.

  The door was blasted apart. A dozen Aachim were framed in the opening, Vithis at their head. There was no time to complete the test. No time to do up the straps either. Taking the controller arm, she snatched at the field and the mechanism whined into life. The thapter rose to hip height, rocking in the air – but would it fly? She put on the special goggles and visualised the strong forces, which were very strong here.

  Vithis shouted, ‘Stop!’ and raised a rod-shaped device.

  Tiaan snatched Gilhaelith’s crystal rod off the binnacle, pointed it at the crowd in the door and pressed the metal. The beam blasted rock out of the wall in a curving path before shattering the bottom step. The Aachim sprang back to safety.

  She turned the thapter in the air, too hard, for it kept going until it faced the door. The Aachim were creeping forward. She gave them another blast but the beam faded out in a shower of sparks. The stored power in the crystal was gone. Thrusting the controller forward, Tiaan drew power and curved around for the windows overlooking the crater and the lake. Acceleration hurled her against the rear wall of the compartment.

  A brilliant violet light bathed her, reflecting back from the binnacle. Tiaan lost the field and the mechanism faltered, but it was too late to stop. She threw one arm across her face as the thapter smashed through the myriad little panes of the window. Timber and glass went everywhere.

  As the rain of shards and splinters stopped, Tiaan looked up. The thapter was dropping like a stone. The violet light had lost her, though, and with a wrench she recovered the field. She flicked down the finger lever for flight, pulled up on the controller knob, drew from the strong force, and prayed.

  Nothing happened. Had the amplimet rejected her again, or did it feel it had a greater chance of achieving its goal with Vithis? You won’t get it this way, she vowed. The thapter will smash, the amplimet sink to the bottom of the lake, and when the volcano erupts, it will be blown to pieces. She hurled all that at the crystal, trying to control or at least influence it.

  The machine kept falling towards the brilliant blue lake. The sheer rock walls of the crater flashed past. The violet light played on her again. The field winked out but returned just as swiftly as she fell out of range. It did not help her – the amplimet was not drawing on the strong force. Her impact with the water would be spectacular.

  The thapter hit an air pocket, rolled, and she almost fell out. Tiaan clung to the controller, which moved sideways and the thapter crabbed around, skidding like a stone across the air. Something went click in her brain and as the machine came upright she pulled up the knob, all the way. The blood rushed from her head and Tiaan blacked out momentarily, rousing to find herself pressed against the back of the seat. The thapter was going straight up, like a child’s skyrocket.

  It approached Nyriandiol, which overhung the basalt cliff above the lake. She altered course so as to avoid the shattered window and the Aachim, who were sighting their weapons. Was Minis one of them? The violet light played over her, the whine ceasing for a second as she shot past. Tiaan shook her fist at Vithis, altered course to avoid crashing into the eaves, shot up over the roof and out of their sight.

  A wall of cloud was racing in from the south. She plunged into its concealment, climbed through and took her bearings from the sun. She was shaking so violently that the thapter skated back and forth across the sky. Where to go? The largest city of Borgistry was about twenty leagues to the south, but the sky was clear in that direction and Vithis would soon discover where she had gone. He could be there in a day. In his current mood, her presence there could only lead to war.

  Or was that just a convenient excuse? Tiaan feared the scrutators, as every sensible person did. She was still a fugitive and must surely be blamed for bringing the Aachim to Santhenar. Her clear duty was to give Scrutator Klarm the thapter and the amplimet, but …

  She desperately wanted to find Gilhaelith and discover if there was a way to repair her broken back. She would give anything for that. But even if she could find him, a prisoner of the lyrinx could do nothing for her.

  Health or duty? Selfish or self-sacrificing? Snizort or Borgistry? How could she decide? The thapter would help end the endless war, and all the human misery it had caused. Against that, her own health was insignificant. It was time to do her duty.

  Tiaan turned south to Lybing, the capital of Borgistry. At least, she tried to, but the controls would not let her go that way. The amplimet, clearly, did not want to fall into the hands of the scrutators. Twice it had turned away from them.

  Tiaan might have gone down to ground, as she had done before, disabled the flying controls and hovered to Lybing. It was the sensible and responsible thing to do. She hesitated over the choice, but only for a second. The capricious amplimet was all the excuse she needed. Hope triumphed over despair and she turned south-south-east, towards Snizort. She felt guilty about it, but if there was a chance to repair her back … Was it so terribly wrong to take it?

  As Tiaan vanished from sight, Vithis turned away from the window hole, so angry that he had to sit down. Minis was white and shaking. Despite everything, Nish felt like cheering.

  ‘Watch where she goes,’ Vithis screamed. ‘Track her! Offer mighty rewards for true information, and dire threats for false. Hunt down the people who once served here. The survivors can’t be far away. Take the names of all informants. Han, bring my fleet here and signal to the others. We are going after her with every construct we have.’

  He hunted down Gilhaelith’s servants, in their cave hideouts, and tortured them. They told him nothing, for no one knew what Tiaan was up to, and Nixx, the only one who might have had an inkling, could not be found.

  More than two weeks went by before they discovered their first lead, for Tiaan had flown into thick overcast and her path away from the mountain was unknown. Now they knew that she had gone west and south. The fleet flowed down the
Great North Road through Borgistry, to the alarm of its citizens. They had to go that way – there were few paths through Worm Wood and none were suitable for carts, much less constructs.

  The convoy swelled as other detachments rejoined Vithis’s force. Beyond Clew’s Top and The Elbow, his fleet broke into a dozen fronts that spread across a hundred leagues, some going west to Taltid and the lands north of there, some south to Nihilnor and Oolo, and others back east by Saludith and the Moonpath to cover the Borgis Woods and Three Knobs, and even the passage through the mountains to the Misty Meres. A system of flags by day, and flashes by night, enabled communication from unit to unit across that distance. Vithis was determined to find Tiaan no matter which way she fled, though she could be anywhere by now, even over the Sea of Thurkad.

  At the end of the third week, an old sighting placed her in the vicinity of Gospett, a town in southern Taltid, not far from Gnulp Forest. The main force headed that way, but near Gospett the trail went cold. Vithis called in the informers and questioned them personally, but could learn nothing more.

  ‘The lyrinx may have her,’ he said.

  ‘Send an embassy to the gates of Snizort,’ said Tirior. ‘Offer a reward for her, and another for the thapter.’

  ‘What reward?’ Nish piped up, and immediately regretted it.

  Vithis turned a cold eye on him. ‘What the blazes are you doing here? Get out!’

  As Nish scurried for the door, Vithis said, ‘There’s only one reward they’d be interested in.’

  Nish went cold all over. ‘No!’ he cried. ‘I implore you –’

  Vithis strode to the door and hurled him through. ‘If the lyrinx do have my flying construct, offer them alliance!’ he said. ‘Against the old humans. And lock up Cryl-Nish Hlar. He is an enemy alien now.’

  FIFTY-THREE

  Tiaan flew all night and through the following day, taking it slowly and keeping to the clouds. She was afraid that the amplimet would take command, or cut off the force entirely, but it gave her no more trouble. The euphoria of her escape had faded, replaced by an overwhelming worry – how could she possibly find Gilhaelith once she got there? And by irrepressible feelings of guilt – that again she had put self before duty.