Chimaera

by Ian Irvine

  Flydd came back once to see what she was doing, but she said, in her most polite talking-to-the-scrutator voice, ‘I can’t talk to you just now, I’ll miss part of the field.’

  Early the following morning, Malien crossed the Sea of Thurkad and settled the thapter outside a palisade of sharpened timber at the end of a narrow, rocky inlet. The ridges rose up steeply on either side and straggly forest ran east into the distance. Guards on the walls had spring-fired catapults and crossbows trained on them. Malien stood up and raised a blue flag. After some time it was answered by a flag from the wall.

  ‘Do you want me to hide, as I did last time?’ said Tiaan. They’d stopped briefly here on the way to Alcifer, after escaping from Stassor.

  ‘No; you’ll come with me and Flydd,’ said Malien.

  ‘But …’ said Tiaan. ‘What if –?’

  ‘This is an embassy and you’re under my protection. You’ll come to no harm.’

  But you’re an exile too, Tiaan thought, dreading the meeting. Her escape and Minis’s maiming had ruined Clan Elienor, for it had been held responsible. Vithis had confiscated their constructs and sent them into this precarious exile.

  Gates in the palisade were creaking open as Tiaan climbed down, following Malien and the scrutator. As she put one foot on the ground, seven Aachim came through the gate. With their red hair, compact stature and pale skin they were strikingly different from all other Aachim.

  ‘The first is Yrael, clan leader,’ said Malien to Flydd as they approached. ‘Next his wife Zea and daughter Thyzzea …’

  Yrael, whose hair was the glowing flame-red of sunset in a smoky sky, stopped just outside the gate, waiting for them to come to him. His arms were crossed, his face expressionless. Tiaan felt a spasm of panic.

  Malien introduced Flydd and Yrael shook his hand, as did each of the others. There was no need to introduce Tiaan, who had remained several steps behind – every one of Clan Elienor’s five thousand knew her. She would forever be in their Histories.

  Yrael stepped around Flydd and came towards Tiaan, and her heart missed a beat.

  ‘Tiaan,’ he said, studying her with his head to one side. ‘You look worn.’

  ‘I’m sorry!’ she burst out. ‘I had to do it. I was afraid for my life –’

  Zea, a small woman with kindly eyes, came up beside Yrael. ‘But of course you did,’ she said, ‘and though your escape cost us dearly, how could we blame you for it?’

  ‘It was your duty to escape,’ said Yrael, ‘and the negligence of our guards, and Vithis’s, that allowed it.’ He put out his hand.

  Tiaan took it, tentatively, the long fingers wrapping right around her hand, but at the moment of contact a wave of relief swept over her. She shook hands with Zea and then her daughter, Thyzzea, remembering their kindness and Thyzzea’s impish good humour during what had been a desperate time for them. Thyzzea, who wasn’t even an adult, had stood up to Vithis to protect her. All at once, Tiaan felt as though she had come home.

  ‘Come within,’ said Zea, indicating the gate with a sweep of her hand.

  They took refreshments in a small pavilion made of carved white wood, set on a grassy rise by the stream that wound into the end of the inlet. The camp, a mixture of tents and small timber buildings, was neatly laid out and the walkways paved, though it looked impoverished. It was also precariously close to Oellyll, just across the sea, and must have been miserably cold and damp at night. The Aachim were thinner than Tiaan remembered, though they looked no less cheerful.

  ‘We are glad to see you, Malien, but why have you come?’ said Yrael once the formalities had been exchanged.

  ‘To find out where you stand,’ said Malien. She explained what had happened at Fiz Gorgo and Nennifer, and Flydd outlined their plan to win the war, or at least such parts of it as he cared to reveal.

  ‘I realise that you must feel bitter towards us, because of your exile,’ began Flydd. He glanced at Tiaan but she avoided his eyes. ‘And that you won’t dare –’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Yrael broke in, ‘Tiaan did us a favour. We’ve lost much, it is true, but we’ve been cut free of the other clans who, many millennia after Elienor founded our line, still can’t accept us. To them we’re a nagging reminder of the greatest failure in our Histories, and we’ll never go back. Henceforth we will make our own way on Santhenar, and our own friends, beholden to none.’

  ‘I’m prepared to offer –’ began Flydd.

  ‘We cannot be bought,’ said Zea. ‘What we give, we give in friendship.’

  ‘And obligation,’ said Yrael. ‘We were twice shamed at Snizort. Shamed because Vithis made alliance with you, Scrutator Flydd, then held us back when your soldiers were overrun by the enemy. And shamed again by the shabby way Matah Urien and Lord Vithis treated Tiaan, who made the gate and saved us all. In payment of those debts, and in friendship between our species, you may call upon us at need and we will answer the call with a thousand men.’

  ‘What of the other Aachim?’ said Flydd, once they were in the air again. ‘Will they give us anything?’

  ‘My own people in Stassor will not,’ said Malien. ‘Sadly, they can think of nothing but their own security, though how they can imagine it’s threatened in such an impregnable refuge, I don’t know.’

  ‘That’s what the Council thought about Nennifer,’ Flydd reminded her. ‘What about Vithis and the other clans? They’ve more than ten thousand constructs. If we could just –’

  ‘Not while Vithis remains leader,’ said Malien. ‘I know his kind. Once set on a course, he will follow it to destruction rather than turn aside.’

  ‘How secure is his tenure? Are the other clan leaders likely to challenge him?’

  ‘I talked to Yrael about that – they’ve had word of Vithis’s doings. There’s much dissension among the clan leaders, but also much rivalry, and Vithis survives because of it. The other clans won’t give any leader the support to topple him. Clan rivalry is one of our longstanding weaknesses.’

  They planned to stop briefly at Tirthrax, where Malien would gather certain materials needed to turn constructs into thapters, then head to Tiksi, which had been under siege for a year. Tiaan had been born there and knew it well, since her mother Marnie, the champion breeder of the breeding factory, still lived in Tiksi. Though Tiaan did not get on with her mother, she missed her terribly.

  Unfortunately, as they were travelling across Mirrilladell, they encountered a blizzard so fierce that Malien had no choice but to put the thapter down and wait it out. She turned for Tirthrax, which was not far away, and they spent days there, unable to go outside the entrance for fear that they would not find their way back again.

  ‘I think we’d better pass Tiksi by and go straight to Fadd,’ said Flydd on the third day, when conditions showed no sign of abating. ‘It’s bigger and more important.’ He looked to Malien as if for affirmation.

  ‘Whatever you say,’ Malien replied indifferently. ‘I know nothing about the politics of old humankind.’

  Even Tiaan knew the untruth of that statement, but Flydd didn’t challenge it. ‘We simply can’t spend more than a month on this trip and we’ve already used up most of our contingency time.’

  Tiaan scrunched herself up in a corner and pretended to be asleep so Flydd wouldn’t talk to her. Long anxious about her mother, she was bitterly disappointed that they weren’t going to Tiksi. She felt lost and Flydd’s presence inhibited Tiaan in her friendship with Malien. Tiaan did the only thing she could do. She withdrew into her work.

  The following day the blizzard eased and they headed north-east across the mountains to Fadd, a city on the coast some eighty leagues north of Tiksi. It had been besieged by the enemy for most of the autumn, so Flydd hoped their visit would be doubly welcome. Tiaan resumed her mapping and, when they reached Fadd, pleaded women’s troubles so Flydd would not require her to go with him. After Fadd they had a long flight along the seaward edge of the rugged coastal mountains to Maksmord, where her excuse still
served, though judging by Flydd’s expression it would last no longer.

  They continued north-west up the coast and the cities blurred into one another. Their visits were brief, normally just overnight. Malien would circle the city several times in daylight before setting down in the main square, or outside the governor’s palace, making certain that they were seen by the maximum number of people. They would meet with the governor, the army command and other notables, and the provincial scrutator.

  The first questions were always about the legitimacy of the new council and the lack of eastern representation on it. The story of Flydd’s earlier condemnation was well known, as was the humiliation of the Council at Fiz Gorgo and the destruction of Nennifer. Yet here Flydd was, accompanied by an Aachim out of the Great Tales and carrying a charter signed by the legendary Yggur himself, and travelling in the astounding flying machine that the whole world was talking about. Once they saw that marvel, few could sustain their doubts. Flydd’s council was the new power in Santhenar and not even those scrutators who had been loyal to Ghorr put up further resistance.

  Flydd made a point of meeting the common soldiers and townsfolk, to reinforce his message that the new council was different from the old one, and hoped that word of mouth would do the rest. At last, after receiving assurances of fellowship and support from the governor (if nothing else), the thapter would lift off early the following morning and crisscross the city several times, flying low, before heading to the next destination.

  Finally they reached Roros in Crandor, the largest city in the world since Thurkad had been abandoned, only two days behind their original schedule. They planned to spend two days here. There would be many meetings, which Flydd required Tiaan to attend, though she did not have to say anything.

  On the second afternoon, bored out of her wits with political manoeuvrings which meant nothing to her, Tiaan was feeling for an apple in her bag when her hand touched Golias’s globe. She hadn’t thought about it before – there had been too much on her mind. Tiaan made a mental note to study it in her room tonight, since all her maps were up to date.

  Her thoughts turned back to her mother. There had been no news about Tiksi in Fadd, or anywhere else. Anything might have happened to Marnie in the past year. As the governor finished her interminable address, Tiaan slipped in beside Flydd, plucking up the courage to ask him. He shook the hands of a pair of noblewomen in silk robes and went with them towards the doorway. Tiaan went after him and was just reaching out a hand when he turned away to speak to the governor. Tiaan’s hand fell to her side.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ said Malien.

  Tiaan even felt estranged from her now. She stared at the floor.

  ‘Tiaan, what is it?’

  ‘It’s my mother,’ Tiaan said mournfully. ‘I was hoping to see her in Tiksi. I’m so worried. Tiksi has been under siege for months …’

  ‘You should have mentioned it at the beginning,’ said Malien. ‘I would have talked Xervish into going there instead of Fadd. Come on. I’m sure he knows what the situation is in Tiksi.’

  Tiaan could not imagine calling the scrutator by his first name. ‘He’s far too busy. I don’t want to bother him.’

  ‘He can spare you a moment.’ Malien went across. ‘Xervish … Excuse me,’ she said to the governor, ‘but I must speak to the scrutator for a moment.’

  Even from where she was standing, Tiaan saw the flash of annoyance on the governor’s face, though it was swiftly hidden. ‘Of course,’ she said, bowing to Malien and to Flydd, and turning away.

  They came across. Tiaan was mortified. ‘I’m s-sorry,’ she said, expecting the scrutator to be furious. ‘It wasn’t important –’

  Flydd smiled, which didn’t make him any the less fearsome. ‘Governor Zaeff is the most tedious old bore I’ve encountered in a decade, and I’m delighted to be rescued from her. What can I do for you, Tiaan?’

  ‘It’s nothing really,’ she said. ‘It’s just that, I’m worried about my mother … Of course you wouldn’t know her, but she lives in Tiksi …’

  ‘Marnie Liise-Mar,’ he said. ‘The star of the breeding factory. Of course I know her.’

  ‘You know my mother?’

  ‘When I was scrutator for Einunar, which I still feel myself to be, morally, I tried to know about everyone important in my realm.’

  ‘Oh.’ She could not imagine why her mother would be considered important. There were many breeding factories. ‘Is Tiksi …?’

  ‘I had news in Fadd, and all was well then, so they’re safe until spring. Tiksi was besieged three times over the last year, and much damage done, but they’ve repulsed several attacks since. Ah …’ He gave her a keen glance from under his continuous eyebrow, now grown back to brown bristles that stuck straight out. ‘In the first attack the breeding factory was burned to the ground.’

  Tiaan gave a little cry. ‘Oh, poor Marnie.’

  ‘I was there soon afterwards in an air-floater. It wasn’t long after you left Tirthrax in the thapter, the first time. As I recall, the women of the breeding factory had been evacuated, and all were accounted for.’

  ‘Marnie spent her whole adult life there,’ said Tiaan. ‘It was her life. What will she do?’

  ‘I’m sure it’s been rebuilt. It’s vital work, breeding, and I dare say she’s back at it.’

  ‘She may be past it by now.’

  Again Flydd smiled, and even touched her on the shoulder. He didn’t seem quite as fearsome after all. ‘Then she’ll be having an honoured retirement. Marnie is, after all, one of the richest people in Tiksi. Excuse me, I’d better get back to the governor.’

  ‘There you are,’ said Malien. ‘I’m sure she’s perfectly all right.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Tiaan. ‘Marnie always did know how to look after herself.’

  She wondered, momentarily, if she dared ask the scrutator about the bloodline register, a human stud book she’d seen in the breeding factory the night of her escape. Tiaan decided not to. Scrutators didn’t appreciate people prying into their secrets.

  THIRTY-NINE

  In another tedious meeting that afternoon, Tiaan found herself involuntarily stroking Golias’s globe. Taking it out of her bag, she surreptitiously inspected it under the table.

  The inner spheres revolved with the slightest movement, as if bathed in oil. She squinted at them, trying to see how many there were. One, two, three, four, five … six, seven. She shook the globe and something moved in the depths. Eight – in Gilhaelith’s mathemancy, a perfect number.

  She shied away from the thought of Gilhaelith. They’d been more than friends at the end of her time in Nyriandiol, but he’d not been able to take the next step. He couldn’t overcome his troubled past, and in the end greed for the amplimet had outweighed his regard for her. She still felt the betrayal, and Ghorr’s attack on Fiz Gorgo suggested that Gilhaelith made a habit of betrayal. Damn him. She dismissed him from her mind.

  Each layer of the globe was different. The outer one was clear glass with, here and there, a few faint swirls of smoky grey, like wispy clouds in a clear sky. The next layer was also clear except for faint lines running around it that shone like silver metal.

  The globe was very heavy, heavier than it should be if it were just made of glass. The third layer was faintly swirled with blue, embedded in which was a red band. Copper, she presumed.

  Someone cleared their throat and Tiaan looked up. Malien was glaring at her. Tiaan put an attentive look on her face until Malien turned back to the governor, who was still droning on about clasped hands across the world and other such nonsense. It was what people did that counted, not what they said.

  The device was a puzzle and Tiaan loved solving puzzles. It drew her in. Each of the succeeding layers was different, but all were combinations of clear, patterned or engraved glass which had been banded, woven or partly masked with metals of different kinds. The outer layers covered so much of the inner ones that she could see virtually nothing of the seve
nth and eighth layers, at least in this light. And what lay at its core?

  A crystal that could draw power from the field? Or one charged by its maker before it had been put into the farspeaker an aeon ago? If charged, its power must have faded long ago, in which case the globe was useless. Each layer of glass was seamless and there was no way to take the device apart without breaking it.

  Malien jabbed her in the ribs and Tiaan nearly dropped the globe. One or two people were giving her curious looks. She slid it into her bag and tried to concentrate on what the governor was saying.

  ‘… we will, of course, do all we can. But as you can see we are hard pressed ourselves …’

  ‘I’m not asking you to come to our aid,’ said Flydd in his best diplomatic tones. ‘Clearly that’s not possible. I’m asking that we all cooperate. Together we’re strong. Separately, nothing!’

  ‘Of course.’ The governor spread her arms. ‘But so far away … and skeets are so unreliable.’

  ‘We may soon have a better solution,’ said Flydd. ‘A faster, secret means of communicating.’

  ‘Oh?’ The governor half-rose to her feet, her eyes on him.

  ‘More of that when we have it. But in the meantime –’

  Governor Zaeff stared at him, calculating. Even Tiaan could read her expression. What’s in it for me?

  ‘If you had a thapter, or two, it would make all the difference to your war,’ Flydd said, very quietly. ‘Not to mention the subsequent peace.’

  Naked greed flashed in Governor Zaeff’s eyes this time. ‘You only have one, and you’re not giving it away.’ If she could have seized it with no danger to herself, she probably would have.

  ‘By winter’s end we expect to have several more,’ said Flydd, ‘enough to reward our most loyal allies.’