by Ian Irvine
Nish began to say something but Flydd held up a hand. ‘Say no more. I admire you all the more for staying true to your conscience, whatever it costs you. None of us will seek to persuade you otherwise, though you’ve made a harder decision than we have. We’ve a few hours to prepare ourselves; at most, until dawn, and I suggest we each do so according to our inclination. I plan to walk the rim of the plateau, alone, as I do every night, then get splendidly, roaringly drunk.’
He nodded to them, checked that the protective amber-wood was still in his pocket, and went out.
Maelys made sure she had hers as well. Colm was trying to catch her eye and she wanted to go to his calm, reliable solidity, but if these were to be her last hours of freedom there were things she needed to settle with Nish first. ‘Later, Colm,’ she said softly.
Nish touched her on the shoulder. ‘Would you walk with me for a bit?’
Her gut tightened at the thought of what she must say to him but it had to be done. She offered him her arm as if they were the best of friends and nothing bad had ever happened between them.
Flydd was visible in the moonlight, shuffling along the rim of the plateau to their left, so they turned the other way. The cross-wind was even stronger now. Maelys, who was on the right, kept well clear of the edge.
‘Nish, I’m sorry I was so angry on the way up,’ she began. ‘I should have tried harder –’
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he said. ‘In my last hours, I’ve got bigger problems to worry about than a trifling misunderstanding.’
Maelys bit her lip. It wasn’t trifling to her and she had to get it out. And once she did, she needed Nish to acknowledge her apology and offer one in return, though she didn’t think he was going to. Why were his problems always more important than hers? Because he was the son of the most powerful man in the world, and her clan had been reduced to beggary. No, Clan Nifferlin were proud, whatever their state, and she didn’t have to take it. What had she ever seen in him?
‘What problems?’ she said, then realised that he’d been waiting for her to ask. Stupid, stupid man.
‘Ones that I can’t even talk to Flydd about, or it’ll destroy all the faith he’s ever had in me.’
But it doesn’t matter about my faith in you, because you don’t care a fig for me, despite all I’ve done for you. Why am I putting myself through this? But because she still felt for him, and in a few hours it would all be over, Maelys said, ‘What is it, Nish?’
He let go of her arm and went to the brink, staring down. She edged after him, afraid that a sudden gust would hurl them over. Far below, the camp fires of Jal-Nish’s mighty army twinkled around the base of the cliffs like an arc of fireflies. Were they already on the way up, or would Jal-Nish wait until the last possible moment, to draw out the tension until everyone snapped?
‘Father is getting to me,’ said Nish. ‘He’s found a way into my mind.’
That was one problem she hadn’t anticipated. ‘What, now?’
‘A while ago, just before we made our choices. He was only there for a minute or two, and I know it hurt him to stay that long, but he’ll be back.’
As she turned to face him, the wind stripped away her last vestiges of warmth. She hugged her thin coat around her, though it made no difference. ‘What does he want?’
‘What Father has always wanted. For me to acknowledge him as my liege and swear to serve him.’
‘And the price?’
‘He’ll give me everything I’ve ever dreamed of – power, wealth, authority …’
Nish flushed. He’d left something out – the most important something. ‘I meant the price you have to pay,’ said Maelys.
He turned away, cold sweat glistening on his brow. ‘Becoming like him.’
‘Are you prepared to pay that price?’ she said, so softly that the shrieking wind carried her words away and she had to repeat herself.
He looked every way but at her. ‘It’s so very tempting. You can’t imagine how much I’ve always wanted to be an important man, a leader, someone people looked up to. I know it’s weak of me but –’
‘Can’t I?’ she said, deliberately softly this time.
He didn’t hear, or ignored her. ‘I can resist those temptations, just. But –’
Her inner chill deepened and she fought the urge to block her ears, for she knew what he was going to say and couldn’t bear to hear it. Horror spread though her veins like her blood crystallising to ice.
‘Father has offered me the deepest desire of my heart,’ he whispered.
Don’t say a thing. Don’t ask what he means – just turn away and run as fast as you can. But she didn’t. ‘What is the deepest desire of your heart, Nish?’ His eyes were like pools of despair, or longing. She couldn’t tell which, in the dim light.
‘To have the love of my life back again. And I don’t know what to do.’
She wanted to smack him until he came to his senses. His obsession had driven him over the edge. She took him by the arms and shook him, unable to contain her anger any longer. ‘Why are you telling me this, Nish? What do you expect me to say – that it could actually happen? It can’t, and we both know it.’
He didn’t answer, though she thought his cheeks grew a trifle darker. No, no, no! Surely he wasn’t asking for her approval? ‘And you’d betray everything you’ve ever fought for, as well as the faith of all those people who’ve suffered and died for the Deliverer, for a dead woman?’ she hissed.
‘You don’t understand. You can’t understand.’
Maelys lost it. ‘How would you know what I understand? You’ve never taken the time to bother with me. And what’s so special about you? What makes your feelings so unique, so elevated, so noble?’ She spat the words out. ‘You’re sick, Nish, and I’m not listening to another word of it. Go to your precious father, or stay, but stop whining and begging us to sanction your choices. What kind of a man are you anyway? You’re no better than Monkshart, or … or Vomix!’
She turned to stalk away before she lost what little remained of her dignity, until out of the corner of her eye she saw Nish squeezing his skull between the heels of his hands and reeling about, dangerously close to the edge. Momentarily she thought he was putting on an act, but the pain on his face was unmistakable. She caught him by the arm and dragged him away.
‘He’s back,’ Nish mumbled through a locked jaw. ‘He’s back and I can’t get rid of him. It hurts; it hurts.’ His eyes were staring into infinity. ‘Oh, Irisis,’ he whispered. ‘Irisis, Irisis, Irisis.’
Maelys shook him, but couldn’t break the trance, or possession. She slapped his face; it made no difference. Taking his head between her hands, she roared, ‘Get out of his head, Jal-Nish,’ right in his face.
Nish’s head jerked. She let go; his eyes focussed on her and he slowly took his hands away. ‘I don’t know what you did, but he’s gone. I feel like a normal man again.’ He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly; like a brother would.
It didn’t mean he cared for her, nor did it erase what she’d just seen. It was too late, anyway, and it no longer mattered, since she’d never be doing her duty with him now. She felt only relief, and pulled away before he did. ‘Come on.’
They walked a third of the way around the cloverleaf-shaped rim in silence. Maelys saw army camp fires all the way. Once a flappeter shot up over the cliff not far ahead, bucking wildly as it rode the updraughts. Its rider seemed to be scanning the centre of the plateau with night glasses, but shortly it banked, curving away and down again without showing signs of seeing them.
After watching it out of sight, Nish said, ‘Please don’t say anything to Flydd, or the others. It’s my private torment. I’d die if they knew.’
‘Do you mean about Irisis, or your father tempting you?’
‘Both. But mainly Irisis.’
After a long hesitation she said reluctantly, ‘All right.’ It didn’t matter now. Let him take it to the grave, if that’s what he really planned to do. �
�Irisis is dead, Nish. You do understand that.’
‘Of course I do! I saw her slain.’
‘And the dead can’t come back to life. No power can restore a life once it’s been lost. So this obsession of yours –’ At the expression on his face she hastily rephrased. ‘What I meant was, your father can’t give Irisis back to you, so how can he have any hold over you?’
‘I know that, but when he’s in my head I can’t see it. Father is the very prince of deceivers … No, wait! I’ve just seen the way.’
Maelys clenched her fists. He was further gone than she’d thought; totally delusional. ‘Nish, Irisis is dead –’
‘I’m not talking about Irisis,’ he said impatiently. ‘I’m talking about Xervish. It’s the answer – the one way out of here. Come on!’ He raced off.
She ran after him, catching him as they reached the hut. Nish thrust the door wide. Flydd, who was warming a goblet by the peat fire, looked up sharply. Zham lay on the floor in the shadows, asleep, while Colm was sitting at the table, shaving a length of red amber-wood into curls. He glanced at Nish, then her, and must have read the gulf between them for he gave Maelys a sympathetic smile.
She went across and sat beside him, saying quietly, ‘It’s over, Colm. I’m done with him. I’m free – until Jal-Nish comes.’
Colm began to say something but was drowned out by Nish who, after standing uncertainly for a while, said, ‘Surr! I’ve found the answer – renewal.’
‘What are you talking about, boy?’ growled Flydd, sniffing his goblet.
Nish flushed. ‘Rejuvenation of a mancer’s ageing body by the Secret Art. It would give you the strength to use the escape –’
‘I know what renewal is,’ Flydd snapped. ‘And what it does. It’s one of the most degrading Arts of all. All mancers who cast the renewal spell upon themselves were either corrupt beforehand or corrupted by taking it, and long ago I swore a solemn oath that I would never resort to it. When a man grows old, he dies, thus making room for the young. That’s been the way of the world since time began.’
‘People have accused me of offering hope to the world, Xervish,’ Nish said quietly, though with a determination he’d lacked previously, ‘then breaking my word. And they were right. I did make that solemn declaration ten years ago, in memory of Irisis, yet I was going to repudiate my oath because I was too afraid. Afraid to hope and have hope dashed. Afraid to try. Rather, I chose to slink away like a craven cur, until others, better than me, forced me to remember my duty.’
Flydd’s scarred and death-like face grew black as he listened, and at the end he exploded. ‘You miserable little worm! You snivelling, puling wretch! You dare to lecture me, a former scrutator, on my duty? I’m not so feeble that I can’t flog you until you beg for mercy like the whining little turd you are. I damn well might.’
Colm and Zham came to their feet. Nish took a step backwards and Maelys could see his resolve weakening under his old friend’s fury. To her own surprise she moved in beside Nish and, standing shoulder to shoulder, took a deep breath. Her knees were shaking. She’d been taught to respect legitimate authority and she’d never met anyone with as much natural authority as Flydd, but he was wrong. If renewal was the only hope left, he had to be convinced to take it, for the whole world was at stake.
‘I know a thing about duty, Xervish, and I say Nish is right. If you flog him, you’ll have to flog me too.’ Her voice cracked. She’d seen men, and once a woman, flogged by Vomix’s troops in the market square, and still flinched when she thought about it.
‘Go and check the clefts!’ snarled Flydd, with such ferocity that even Zham and Colm took involuntary steps backwards. ‘Now!’ They went out, most reluctantly. When they were gone Flydd went on, ‘I’ll flog you too, Maelys, if that’s what it takes to convince him. I will not take renewal!’
Maelys screwed her eyes shut. She couldn’t believe he was serious, not at such a time as this, and after her demure upbringing it was unthinkable to defy such a great and powerful figure, but she had to find a way. After lecturing Flydd as she had, backing down would make a hypocrite out of her. She must persist, no matter the consequences.
She straightened her back, tilted up her chin and looked him fair in the eye. ‘Do what you will, Xervish, for I cannot turn my back on what I know to be right.’
They went eye to eye for a minute or two, which was even harder, for Flydd was a master of that game who had broken scrutators at it, and his cloudy eyes gave nothing away. But Maelys could not give in either, and though her knees were wobbling like clock pendulums, and her belly felt as though a full-grown slurchie was gnawing through it, she had to hold her nerve. Only Flydd could save them now, so he must take renewal.
Eventually he gave a mocking laugh, as though the camaraderie they’d shared earlier had been coldly calculated; meaningless. ‘Surely you don’t think you can best me at this mind game, you silly little girl?’
Nish’s teeth were chattering. He’d seen Flydd at the height of his powers and doubtless knew just what he could do, but Maelys put Nish’s fears out of mind. Why would Flydd resort to taunts unless his own resolve was weakening? She chose to think so, anyway. Hers was, too. The pressure was too much and she was going to crack. She had to take the assault to him now, while she could.
She tightened her will another notch and stepped forwards until she was standing breast to chest, staring up into his eyes and willing him to look away. They held that pose for several minutes, the longest of her life. Flydd grinned crookedly, but it looked a trifle forced and that gave her hope.
‘Maybe I am a silly little girl, but I’m not going to give up, Xervish.’
His cloudy eyes drifted fractionally so that his gaze circled around hers. He was weakening. She went up on her toes and his eyes were slow to follow hers. Flydd was no longer staring directly into her eyes, but rather in the vicinity of her lower lashes. She chose to interpret that as a weakening, that he’d lowered his eyes, and peered directly into them.
Again his gaze slid almost imperceptibly down, and she knew she had him. ‘You broke,’ she said softly, not crowing, for it was not that kind of victory.
After a draining eternity he said, ‘I broke.’ He bowed his head, panting. ‘And you, my dear, sweet Maelys, belong with the very bravest foes I’ve ever encountered. You’re a formidable gir– young woman, and such strength deserves its audience. Do you realise what you’re asking, when you ask me to take renewal?’
‘No, Xervish, I have no idea.’
‘If you did, you’d be less eager to put me through it. The renewal spell is ancient, yet little used by even the most greedy mancers, for it kills as many as survive it, and some who do survive wish they hadn’t. Self-harm and suicide are common among those to survive renewal, while many have been crippled or driven out of their wits by it.’
He was right. How little she knew or understood.
Flydd went on. ‘It’s one of the most excruciatingly painful spells ever used upon a human being. So painful that I who, as you see written upon my body, suffered brutal tortures as a young man, have nightmares thinking about it.
‘And even if I could summon the power to work such a desperate and dangerous spell, and it succeeded, I’d still be trapped on this pinnacle without allies, for Jal-Nish will fall upon the Defiance any day now and wipe them out to the last woman and the last child. So what’s the point of putting myself through the agony?’
No one spoke. Maelys was quelled. How could she require him to suffer such pain for such a slim chance of success? Their cause was lost, and she’d made her choice, but what right did she have to impose her will on him? Why not let the old man end his life with whatever dignity he had left? Because that would mean letting Jal-Nish win, and she could not.
‘Because your giving up would put out the lights forever, Xervish. There’s no hope for the world unless we create it, here and now. Think of the young people who will one day take your place; think of the children. Would you have them gr
ow up in a world without hope, if we had the means, or even the slenderest chance, of offering hope to them? We must try, Xervish.’ She reached out her small hand to his scarred one, and he took it. ‘We can do no less.’
‘Is there hope, though? Is there any at all?’
‘Just a grain, surr,’ said Nish. ‘It’s the tiniest flicker, but it does exist. Maelys saw it in the Pit of Possibilities and I believe her.’
‘I’d like to believe,’ said Flydd. He turned to Maelys. ‘Well?’
‘I saw into the God-Emperor’s mind when he was looking into the tears.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t let you in?’
‘I – Yes, I’m sure. He does have a weakness, and he’s afraid. He hasn’t robbed the world of all its Arts. Most, but not all. He hasn’t crushed all his enemies yet. And as Monkshart told Nish, nothing goes to nothing.’
‘Nothing goes to nothing,’ Flydd mused. ‘Indeed not. And everything has its antithesis.’
Maelys started, for it reminded her of her speculations after escaping from Monkshart’s tent.
‘That’s right,’ she cried. ‘Monkshart and Phrune talked about it but they never followed the idea through.’
‘And you did?’ said Flydd, looking puzzled.
‘Yes, and if that’s true, then somewhere in the world – hidden, transmuted perhaps – there must lie the antithesis to the tears, something that can be used to nullify their power.’
Suddenly the light came back to Flydd’s rheumy eyes and he laughed, with just a tinge of bitter irony this time. ‘Only one person on Santhenar could know that. A calculating, inscrutable, relentless foe that in a hundred years no one has ever set eyes upon; the power who established the Council of Scrutators for an unknown purpose so long ago. And the one in whose name I was flogged until half the flesh had been scoured from my bones.’
He looked around the hut, studying them one by one as if weighing up their fitness. ‘Very well, Maelys, I will do as you ask. I will attempt the renewal spell. And if I should survive it, and we get away, which can’t and won’t happen, I will lead you on the long hunt to find this terrible foe. I’ll take you south towards the frigid pole, across the Frozen Sea to the forbidden Island of Noom.