The Fatal Gate

by Ian Irvine

  “As with me. My good name, no, my very identity, is under threat. I’ve got to redeem myself.”

  “I don’t see how I can help you.”

  Shand checked the room and lowered his voice. “I’m terrified the magiz’s link is still buried in me. What if the enemy’s new magiz wakes it and forces me to betray us again? I’ve got to get rid of the link, but I can’t do that by myself.”

  “I don’t know anything about such things,” said Ifoli.

  “I do. I’ve made a dark scent potion—the Afflatus Effluvium. It’s one of the Great Potions and it can be used for a number of purposes, such as finding deeply embedded mind links.”

  Now she looked interested. “And tearing them out?”

  Shand shook his head. “For that I need a special kind of magical device. A Command device, in fact, but a much better one than the one Unick made for Snoat.”

  “What was wrong with his?”

  “By the time Unick made it he had been ensnared by the summon stone, and it made him modify the Command device for its own benefit.”

  “Ahhh!” sighed Ifoli. “That explains—”

  “Whenever the Command device was used, it strengthened the stone. And it could never be used against it.”

  “And that’s why you need me. Because I understand the workings of Unick’s three enchanted devices.”

  “And the theory behind them. Llian once mentioned that you’d made many working drawings.”

  “Unick didn’t use them.”

  “But if you were to combine your subtle approach with Unick’s sledgehammer method to make …”

  “A device to remove a mind link,” said Ifoli.

  “Such a powerful yet subtle device could be used for many purposes. It could be of great benefit in the war.”

  “It would take a long time to make. The components of such a device will be very specific, and few of them will be available in Zile.”

  “I have Unick’s Origin and Identity devices,” said Shand, “apart from the flask of quicksilver, and I’ve just obtained the fragments of the Command device, plus the core Llian recovered. If they were all taken apart …”

  “It would make the task much easier.” Ifoli leaned across the table, her eyes hard. “But I’d have to be sure of you first. Sure that you weren’t still under the magiz’s control.”

  “Yes,” said Shand. “You would.”

  44

  TAKE HIM DOWNSTAIRS!

  Karan, escorted by six of Janck’s finest, delivered Sulien for interrogation at eight the following morning, then sweated outside while Tallia, Malien and three unnamed mancers probed the depths of Sulien’s mind with every spell they could think of. Mind searches were fraught; they were painful and could cause memory loss, mental damage and occasionally madness.

  “Are you all right?” Karan cried when Malien finally escorted Sulien out after a four-hour probing. She was unnaturally pale and unsteady on her feet.

  “Head’s aching,” said Sulien. “Going to bed.” She lurched away, looking as though she was going to vomit.

  “Well?” Karan said coldly to Malien. “Was it worth her torment?”

  “Don’t be like that, Karan; it had to be done.”

  “And?”

  “We established beyond doubt that Sulien did see the Merdrun’s secret in a nightmare.”

  “You thought she’d made it up?” Karan said incredulously.

  “The question had to be asked, but we could not recover a single second of the nightmare. The old magiz must have blocked it, though there’s no trace as to how. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  “Does that mean it’s irrecoverable?”

  “Theoretically, any spell one great mancer can devise, another equally experienced should be able to undo.” But she did not sound hopeful.

  Karan was on the library roof with Malien, preparing with great reluctance for her spying mission to the Isle of Gwine. Sulien, who was still wan, looked on anxiously.

  “The way you went to Cinnabar the first time would be best,” said Malien, whose hostility was greatly diminished now that Karan was about to risk her life on everyone’s behalf. “Via my incantation of disembodiment.”

  “The triplets will be expecting me,” said Karan.

  “Avoid them. You can do vital work without going near them.”

  “Such as?”

  “The Merdrun spent the past year on Cinnabar conquering city after city and fortress after fortress; no one could resist them. But the moment they entered the Crimson Gate everything went wrong. Now they’re trapped on an island far from anywhere important, and for the first time they’re on the defensive. What would they do?”

  Before Karan could answer Sulien said, “Build a fortress.”

  “Precisely,” said Malien. “Find out what kind of defences they have, and where, and their strengths and weaknesses.”

  “Why does Mummy always have to go?” Sulien’s face was pale, and no wonder.

  “Because no one else can do it,” said Malien.

  “If anything happens …” said Karan. “If I don’t come back, Malien will look after you.” She turned to Malien. “You will, won’t you? And be kind to her.”

  “Kinder than Tensor was to you when you ended up with us at the age of twelve.”

  Sulien gave a little shudder, then stood up straight and looked into Karan’s eyes. “It can’t be nearly as bad as being a little Whelm.”

  “It’s difficult for Aachim to have children,” said Malien, “and we love them all the more for it. It’s a hard world, and children must be prepared, but you will never be treated badly in the care of Clan Elienor.”

  It was all Karan could ask for. She checked that she had her hat, knife, water bottle and everything else she would need if forced to materialise, and was focusing on the only clear mental image she had of Gwine—the hill with the white stone bowl and red reflective pool from which the triplets had attacked Sulien—when there came a rattle and a clatter from the north and a very battered sky ship separated from the bright ball of the sun and wobbled down towards the far end of the roof.

  She took no notice; sky ships were constantly coming and going on secret war business.

  “Mummy!” said Sulien, clutching at her hand.

  Karan hugged her tightly, lingeringly, then pulled away. “I have to go.”

  “No, wait!”

  They had scarcely been separated since Sulien’s rescue from the Whelm, and she was still clingy. Her safe world had been torn apart; it was a wonder she was coping at all.

  The sky ship came in far faster than Yggur would ever have landed his craft. Its skids hit the roof, crash, bounced, came down again, crash, crash, and slewed sideways, metal screeching on stone, then it came to rest canted over to the left. The rotors died.

  “Mummy, come on!” cried Sulien, heaving on Karan’s hand.

  Sulien’s eyes were blazing, her whole face glowing, and suddenly Karan’s skin rose in goose pimples. She fought down hope; she’d given way to it too many times, and it had failed her again and again.

  Sulien persisted and Karan allowed herself to be dragged along. The door of the sky ship opened with a groan, as if the hinges had been forced out of shape. The box-shaped cabin looked as though something had taken hold of it and twisted. A man forced the door the rest of the way and jumped down six feet to the roof, looking around wildly. He stumbled towards the troops guarding the other sky ships, shouting, though Karan could not make out what he was saying.

  Another man followed, tall, dark-haired and unmistakeably Aachim. He looked to the main stairs. People were hurrying up—Tallia, Janck and a pair of guards. The tall Aachim ran that way.

  A third man appeared, much older than the others, wearing a dark blue cape over a grey shirt and pantaloons, and carrying a short, gnarled black staff. He tossed the end of the boarding ladder down, climbed down it and stood there for a moment, shivering. He was short and plump and rather old, with little feet and hands, a bald head
, white sideburns that extended down to his shoulders and an absurd goatee beard dyed soot-black.

  “Battle Mancer Hublees,” he said, bowing to Sulien and Karan. “A bad business.” He headed towards the stairs without waiting for a response.

  Sulien faltered, staring at the sky ship. A fourth man disembarked and, moving slowly and wearily, tied the craft down to rings anchored in the roof. The familiar desolation flashed across her face; she gave a little sob but shook it off and kept going.

  A few feet from the foot of the ladder she stopped, looking up. “Daddy?”

  Karan could not bear it, could not bear for her hopes to be so crushed.

  “Daddy!” Sulien shrieked.

  Karan was shivering and tingling all over. And then he appeared in the doorway. Llian’s eyes were bloodshot, his face was purple with bruises, a grubby bandage encircled his left wrist and he was limping badly. But he was alive! Her eyes filled with hot, stinging tears.

  “Sulien?” he whispered. “You’re safe? And Karan too?”

  He scrambled down the ladder, caught a foot in the second-bottom rung and fell flat on his face on the roof.

  Sulien threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him. “Daddy, we’ve been so worried. Where have you been?”

  Llian hugged her until she squeaked, then kissed her on the forehead. “It’s a long story, though not as long as yours, I’ll bet.” He hugged her again. “I can’t believe it. How did you get here? When did you get here?”

  “The night before last,” said Sulien, letting go and helping him up.

  Llian got up, frowning. “But I was—”

  Karan could not speak; she was too overwhelmed. She hugged them both. He winced, then looked down at her. “I never thought … I barely hoped …”

  Her relief was so overwhelming Karan felt giddy and had to cling to him. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”

  Llian’s eyes flicked to Janck and Tallia. They had stopped to confer with Hublees, but Janck was now running across the roof towards them. Llian grimaced.

  “Silence!” bellowed Janck. “Say nothing, Llian, on pain of death. Guards, take charge of him.”

  Janck’s guards ran ahead, shoved Karan and Sulien out of the way and took Llian by the arms, one on each side.

  “This way, if you please,” said the first guard, a burly fellow with a broken nose and a gap where his two top front teeth should have been.

  “Daddy?” wailed Sulien. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” said Llian. “They just—”

  “Say nothing!” roared Janck, who was purple in the face and gasping.

  “You’re not taking Daddy away,” cried Sulien to the guards. “Leave … him … alone.”

  “Out of the way, you absurd little brat,” said Janck. Then, to the guards, “Take him downstairs.”

  Sulien reached out towards the burly guard, who was four times her weight. He swatted at her with the back of his free hand, lazily. She ducked then prodded him in the belly with the stiff fingers of her right hand and he was hurled backwards for ten feet, landing with a thump on his broad back. A shock passed through Llian to the second guard, who slipped to one knee, holding his belly and gasping as if all the air had been driven from him.

  Karan gaped. Where had that come from?

  “Guards?” cried Janck as Sulien advanced on him. “Here, now!”

  “Sulien!” Karan said sharply.

  Sulien stopped. “I won’t let them hurt Daddy.”

  Tallia raced up. “No one is going to hurt Llian. We just need to talk to him about what he—”

  “Not here!” hissed Janck. “Spies in the sky, you fool, spies everywhere.” He scowled at his guards. “Get up, you incompetent fools! Take Llian to my war room and let no one speak to him on the way.” He turned to Karan, and there was none of the amiability she had previously seen in his eyes. He looked hard, angry and more than a little afraid. “You can speak to him after you get back.”

  “What do you mean, get back?” said Llian. “Karan, where are you going?”

  “Not here!” bellowed Janck. “Guards, clear everyone off the roof, now. Karan, get going.”

  Karan did not move. Nothing added up, but a dreadful suspicion was forming, and she felt her fury rising until it was almost uncontrollable.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I get answers,” she said coldly. “Llian, when Sulien said we got here the night before last, you said, But I was … What were you going to say?”

  “Guards!” cried Janck. The two guards scrambled to their feet, wincing.

  Tallia laid a hand on his right arm. “This is counterproductive, Commander. How can she do her job with this hanging over her?”

  “All right!” hissed Janck. “But not here.” He held up his hand to the guards and they stopped.

  “I was here then,” Llian said under his breath. “I’d been here almost a week. We left that night; we must have just missed you.”

  A week! Karan wanted to draw her knife and stab Janck, the scheming, lying bastard, through the heart. With an effort she restrained herself. “We didn’t miss you,” she said softly. “You left in the sky ship that was moored way over there, didn’t you?” She pointed to the far right. “We saw it go! If I’d known you were on it—”

  “Yes, we—”

  “Not another word,” snapped Janck. “Guards, take Karan and Sulien to their quarters and lock the door.”

  The guards took hold of Karan and Sulien.

  “You absolute swine!” Karan ground out. “And you’re just as bad,” she said to Tallia and Malien. “You all knew Llian was alive, and you didn’t tell us? Or tell him that we were alive?”

  Tallia looked ashamed. Even Malien, who did not take kindly to being lectured by anyone, seemed uncomfortable.

  “I ordered them to say nothing,” said Janck. “The enemy is trying kill you and Sulien—your identities and locations must be kept secret.”

  “Though they’re known to every bat, beetle and blowfly in Zile,” Karan sneered.

  “Guards, take them down.”

  As the guards came forward, Malien took a deep breath then stepped between them and Karan. “This farce has to end now, Janck,” she said. “No one has done more to hinder the Merdrun than Karan, Sulien and Llian. I insist that they be included in our councils.”

  “Or what?” snapped Janck.

  “Or I take my people and my sky ships—the three we have here, the six that have just reached Sith and the other fourteen on their way—and go home.”

  Janck shook with fury, and for a few seconds Karan thought he was going to defy Malien. Karan fought an urge to punch him in the eye. Then his stout figure sagged. “All right, but if it goes wrong it’ll be on your head.”

  “If this goes wrong, none of us will have a head,” Tallia said sombrely and led the way down.

  “Mummy, stop it,” whispered Sulien. “We’ve got Daddy back. That’s all that matters.”

  Karan’s fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles hurt. Sulien was right—she must not allow this shabby deception to ruin a reunion that had, for the past few weeks, seemed beyond hope.

  She took Llian’s left hand and Sulien took his right, and they followed the others. But as they reached the stairs an uneasy feeling drew her eyes up to a white hawk wheeling high in the air. Had it been watching them?

  In the war room Llian summarised his recent mission. Janck had sent them north to see how Demondifang had changed in the time since he, Ifoli and Regg had escaped so narrowly. Hublees had carried various uncanny instruments with which to study the summon stone, though Janck made it clear that only those who needed to know would hear his report.

  “Demondifang is much worse now,” said Llian. “The entire island is an unreality zone teeming with chimaeras—blendings of all manner of impossible creatures—often insane and all tearing at one another. The forest is tortured and tangled; it’s a festering stain all the way down to the sea.”

  �
��What about the top of the peak?”

  “We didn’t lay eyes on the stone; we couldn’t get within a mile of it. The storm is huge now; the winds are savage and lightning is striking in all directions.” He probed his bruised face with his fingertips. “A gust hurled me from one end of the cabin to the other, and I was lucky not to break my neck. I don’t see how we can mount—”

  “Just tell us what you saw,” said Janck.

  “The corruption has spread across the gravel bar to Mollymoot.”

  “Already?” said Tallia.

  “The island looks abandoned.” Llian rubbed his stubbly jaw. “I hope Dilly and Regg are all right.”

  “Very well, you may go,” said Janck. “I dare say you’ve got stuff to do before Karan leaves.”

  “Where are you going?” said Llian.

  She told him about her planned spying mission to Gwine. His jaw tightened though he did not say anything; perhaps he felt he did not have the right.

  “When?” he said after a long pause.

  “I was getting ready to go when you arrived.” The thought of going had been bad enough before. It was utterly unbearable now. She looked up at Janck, expecting him to order her to go at once.

  “It can wait,” said Janck. “I need to talk to Hublees before you go. Tell the guards to send him in. And don’t talk about war business, anywhere.”

  Karan got a basket of food from the kitchens, and they went back to the roof and found a corner, far from the stairs and the sky ships, where they would not be overheard. She looked over the wall for clinging bats, and up at the sky for birds, but saw none.

  They put their backs to the wall and sat there with Sulien between them, soaking up the slanting afternoon sun, nibbling on dried figs and nuts and blurting out fragments of their stories. None of them had the energy for anything more.

  Karan leaned against Llian’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and a great lassitude crept over her. She tried to imagine that the rest of the world had vanished and all their troubles with it.

  The mission to Gwine intruded but she forced it into the background. It intruded again. “Go away!” she said aloud.