by Cliff McNish
‘Don’t prattle your peace to me,’ Gultrathaca said. ‘Fight me instead! Without the boy’s assistance! I will remove the guards.’
‘Why can’t you understand?’ Jarius said. ‘Stop thinking continually in terms of conflict – you against me, the packs against Yemi, Griddas versus children. See beyond the tunnels! It is not merely the Wizards set against the Griddas. The whole simmering anger of Ool is turning on us. The Detaclyver has never been so active. There are Essa in the deeps. Huraks menace the home tunnels. While there is still time, find Rachel. Do everything you can to find her.’
‘Rachel is dead.’
‘No, she is alive, sister, alive.’
Gultrathaca tried to hide her shock.
‘Yemi knows more than your own scouts,’ Jarius said. ‘Find Rachel. Free her, and make a truce with Earth’s children and the Wizards. They want it, genuinely. There is no other way.’
‘I would rather die,’ Gultrathaca hissed.
‘I know. That is what is so terrible.’
‘No.’ Gultrathaca approached closer. ‘What is terrible, Jarius, is that you have forgotten the gloriousness of war. I have already sent an invasion force to Earth. It will kill all the children and adults on that world.’
‘Kill them to what end? War for what purpose? And even if you succeed, what will be next for the Griddas? Will they simply go on finding new enemies, killing forever? Is that the great destiny Gultrathaca offers the packs?’
‘A lifetime of fighting is all any Gridda seeks,’ Gultrathaca replied. ‘There is no higher honour. Once you understood that.’
‘Do you think the Wizards will allow it? They will never do so. All Griddas may be killed. Are you prepared to be the cause of that? What gives you the right to make such a decision?’
Gultrathaca stared at Jarius, saw her concern to convince her, her anxiety for everyone and everything. It was the same expression Gultrathaca had seen in Fola, Rachel and the other children of Earth. It disgusted her. ‘Even if we are all killed, there will be a magnificent fight first,’ she said to Jarius. ‘Following that, what does it matter? Why look beyond the next battle?’
‘Those are not your own thoughts. That is what the Highs taught us.’
‘In that regard they taught us well.’ As Gultrathaca prepared to leave, Jarius beseeched her, ‘Don’t lead the packs against Earth. It will be a horrible slaughter.’
‘Horrible? Horrible! Oh, Jarius, I pity you. Are you so sterilized that you no longer tremble with joy at the prospect of battle? War is what I want, what we all want. And not only war against the Earth. You’re right about the infants: they are restless. To occupy them, I’ll need to offer something special, and I intend to. I’ll give them the Wizards as well. I’ll give them the world of Orin Fen.’
‘You won’t find it. The Highs never did.’
‘The Highs didn’t have Eric.’
At last – at last! – Gultrathaca saw a quiver of uncertainty cross Jarius’s face.
Eric lay back on his new bed, deciding.
His second cell was nicer than the old one had been, much nicer. Gultrathaca had fashioned him comfy chairs and warm blankets. Eric had no doubt she would have given him a cuddly toy if he’d asked. He even had pillows, frilly ones. He couldn’t get over it. Did Gultrathaca really think he would be impressed with frilly pillows? Yes, he thought, she did. She didn’t understand him at all.
Good. It meant his plan had a chance.
His hands rested lightly on the prapsies. They each had a little cushion of their own on the bed. At home, they would probably have been bickering over who got which cushion, but not here. They weren’t even interested in the cushions. They just wanted to stay close to him. Normally they followed him everywhere, but in recent hours they had become inseparable. If Eric got up to stretch in the cell, they stretched with him. If he paced, they paced. If he decided to settle back on the bed, as now, they lay alongside, silent, never taking their blue eyes off him.
‘You all right, boys?’ he said, wedged between them.
‘Yes, Eric,’ replied one prapsy. ‘But you are not. You are not all right, are you?’
‘Oh, I’m fine.’
‘No Eric, you are not fine.’
‘That’s enough. Be quiet now,’ Eric murmured – and they were.
‘Is there anything you want, Eric?’ one asked, after a while.
‘Just your company. Get some rest, now. I keep telling you that. Don’t you two listen to a single word I say any more?’
The prapsies stayed silent. Eventually one said, ‘We will do what you want.’
‘Yes, we’ll do anything for you, Eric,’ the other said.
‘I know. I know you will, boys,’ Eric replied, his voice almost breaking. And he thought: you will have to; I’m going to have to ask everything of you now.
His fingers curling and uncurling in the prapsies’ feathers, Eric forced himself to go over the plan again. As he did so fear pounded through him. He tried to ignore it. He tried, instead, to cultivate his hatred of the Griddas. He was able think more clearly when he shut out everything except that hatred.
Could he carry out the plan? Every time Eric thought about it, his mind moved sideways in terror. To reassure himself, he sent his spell-detecting talents out again. There it was: that big strange world so tantalizing to Gultrathaca. Was it truly a prison planet, full of Griddas? Maybe. Mixed signals like Griddas and High Witches leaked from it, but no Wizards; not once did he detect a Wizard.
The plan, the plan. He practised over and over what he must do.
Griddas lived beneath Thûn. They also lived beneath the other two immense cities of Ool, spread over a wide distance. Eric didn’t know anything about those other places, but that didn’t stop him reaching out to the Griddas who lived there, into every sinew of their magic. Gultrathaca thought they were safe. She thought that if the Griddas kept their distance from Eric he could not harm them. When he was in his old cell that had been the hardest part of all – waiting until the last possible moment to act against each attack, waiting until they reached his cell. His range was actually far greater than Gultrathaca knew. If she hadn’t tested him from such distances, he would never have discovered it. His reach was vast. He could wrap his destruction around every Gridda on Ool. Now, lying here, on this bed, with his head resting on the pillow, he could kill them all.
It intoxicated and repelled him to think of it!
But while destroying all the Griddas on Ool was something, Eric’s plan was more enterprising than that. He planned to destroy all those on the prison world, too. He would persuade Gultrathaca to bring as many Griddas as possible, and when they were close enough to the prison world, he would bring all the additional Griddas into his range as well. And, he thought, even if I can’t kill them all, at least I’ll damage them, hurt them badly. They’ll be a long way from home, too far to make it back to Ool.
He realized how terrible these thoughts were. They were outrageous. He knew that. It was an awful thing he planned to do but, Eric reminded himself, he had to think like this. Hadn’t Larpskendya said it might all depend on him now? Who else was going to deal with these appalling Griddas? There was nobody else. The Essa had not returned; Serpantha was only a wisp of life in a far-off dungeon. As for Rachel – Eric felt her racing towards Thûn, and no one knew better than he what she could do – but against a world of Griddas what chance did she have?
Better to act himself, before she died trying to save him.
There is no one else, he told himself. You have to do it. You.
What upset him most of all was that there was no chance of saving the prapsies. If his plan succeeded, if he killed all the Griddas, he and the prapsies would have to die in space with them. Eric didn’t share this information with the prapsies. He didn’t want to scare them any more than he had already done. There they were beside him – he never had to look for them – twitching, still in look-out mode, watching the door. How often had their vigilance already kept
him safe? How often had their simple belief in him kept him from losing his spirit?
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said, with tears in his eyes. ‘I can do it. I must.’ He had spoken out loud, without meaning to. Gazing down at the prapsies, he found them gazing back at him with tremulous eyes.
‘Do what? Eric, will you tell us?’
‘I can’t.’
‘Eric, tell us!’
‘Oh, I can’t. I can’t!’ Unable to stand it any longer, Eric jumped off the bed. ‘I’m ready!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve made my decision. Tell Gultrathaca I want to speak to her!’
The message was conveyed. When Gultrathaca entered his cell, she appeared as kind and considerate and thoughtful as he’d ever seen her before.
‘We still haven’t been able to find Rachel,’ she started apologetically.
Eric cut her off. ‘I assume you’ll keep your word. I can’t stand being here any more. If we’re going to go to this prison world, let’s do it now.’
‘The Griddas are ready,’ Gultrathaca said. ‘I will protect you myself. Nothing will happen to you, I promise.’
Eric did not even look at her. ‘I hope you have a large army.’
‘I will be bringing most of the Griddas. How far is it?’
‘A long way.’
Gultrathaca nodded. ‘It is a good thing you are doing, Eric.’
‘Yes,’ Eric replied thickly. ‘I know.’
Gultrathaca left Eric, trembling with excitement and apprehension. Had she succeeded? She hardly dared ask herself. After instructing the pack-leaders to make final preparations to depart, she retired to the solitude of her own tunnel for a while. One army was already dispatched, on its way towards Earth. It would menace the children, and occupy the attention of at least some of the Wizards.
But could she control the remaining packs? Would they really follow her all the way to Orin Fen?
While she waited for the main army to gather itself, Gultrathaca went to see Yemi one last time. To reach the Assessment Chamber, she had to thrust her way past hundreds of tunnel creatures. The trickle of animals that had always found their way to him now clogged nearly all the entrances. Amongst them, increasingly, were the lethal huraks. It seemed that all the blue cats for many miles around must be haunting the tunnels.
Dozens of tired Griddas met her eyes as Gultrathaca entered the doorway. Just keeping Yemi inside the Chamber was exhausting work. No Gridda pack could last longer than a few hours if he really wanted to test them. They always left dispirited, the containment spells they had spent years perfecting lying in pieces.
As this shift trudged out, Yemi followed the Griddas to the doorway, chatting good-naturedly. When he saw Gultrathaca he sauntered across the floor, offering her his usual guileless smile.
That infuriating smile! How Gultrathaca had come to detest it!
‘Sere,’ he said.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘No more games.’ You’ve won them all, she thought. We’ve nothing left to attack you with.
Yemi called over one of his ever-present hurak companions. Hopping onto its back, he used its ears as steering handles. The towering beast, all meekness, swayed dreamily at his touch.
Gultrathaca hated everything about Yemi now. She was afraid of him, too. Only a fool did not fear what it could not threaten. She gazed at his delicate, frail skull, wanting to bite it – except, of course, the huraks would prevent her. Or, if they failed, his magic would prevent her.
And Yemi’s magic never failed him.
Gultrathaca had already given up any hope of using Yemi as a weapon. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before he escaped. Then what would happen? No doubt he would return to Earth. Eventually the children or Wizards would find a way to tap into his immeasurable power. That could not be allowed. The only choice left was to kill him – before he prevented the possibility of even doing that.
Could she do it? The resources of the Assessment Chamber itself were formidable. To that she could add a combined assault by her most proficient Griddas. Based on her observations of Yemi, and all she had learned in a lifetime of fighting, Gultrathaca calculated that if a huge number attacked him at once even Yemi could not survive. She had already given the packs an advantage against him. Yemi could no longer shift. She had secretly used his own contact with Jarius to limit him. Did he even realize yet? Probably not. But he would soon. Fresh packs were waiting for him outside the Chamber.
Fola was near Yemi, watching over her brother as always. She picked him up. ‘Why you no let us go? Why?’ she said angrily to Gultrathaca. ‘I wish Yemi would hurt you! I told him, but he no understand what you are!’
‘I think he may soon,’ Gultrathaca said. ‘When he sees how many Griddas I am gathering against him.’
‘What do you mean?’
Fola glanced at Yemi. His usual smile had faded. With quick gestures, he motioned to his animals. All those within the Chamber rushed to surround him.
With immense satisfaction, Gultrathaca stared at Yemi. To wipe the smile finally from his face! His animals were frantic. As Gultrathaca left the Chamber, and saw Yemi’s faltering expression, she no longer felt afraid of him at all.
In the afternoon the packs started to assemble at the designated departure points. An orange-brown haze suffused the skies over Tamretis and Gaffilex as the Griddas left in their millions. To watch the Thûn packs go, Gultrathaca flew to the top of Heebra’s eye-tower. For hour after hour the packs emerged from the tunnels and swept into the clouds. It made Gultrathaca’s heart leap to see the infants. They were taking orders again. Now that they faced the prospect of space, and had a reason to be frightened, they stayed without complaint next to the older Griddas. Real discipline had returned at last to the packs.
With great pride Gultrathaca raised her claws. A passing group acknowledged her with a harsh cry. Other Griddas joined in with them, their uncertainty forgotten, turning in majestic arcs to honour Gultrathaca before they left. She would join them, but not immediately. There was one thing to do first.
Gultrathaca forced her way through the animals to the Assessment Chamber. As she entered, Yemi looked up at her, no longer smiling.
Thousands of Griddas had encircled the Chamber, all with one purpose.
‘As soon as the packs are gone,’ Gultrathaca said to them, ‘kill him.’
20
Freedom
Rachel flew at tremendous speed, barely staying in control as she navigated along the Gridda tunnels deep under Thûn.
Some of the tunnels were so cramped she had to flip her body on its side to pass through; others, those reserved for high-ranking pack-leaders, were like caverns. All were empty. More than empty. Rachel sensed events she needed to understand taking place above her – an enormous departure of lives and magic.
As she flew over a hole in one tunnel floor, she halted.
‘No!’ the Essa told her. ‘Yemi is further.’
‘Wait.’ Rachel knelt down. A familiar scent wafted up from the hole. Normally her information spells would have picked it up much earlier. But it was weak, terribly diminished. ‘Serpantha,’ she whispered.
The Essa all fell silent. When Serpantha had first secretly arrived in Ool’s skies they had wanted to follow the winds to him, but he moved too swiftly to keep up. They looked over Rachel’s shoulder, blinking into the gloom.
‘I know Yemi needs us,’ she said, ‘but I won’t leave Serpantha. We have to go to him.’
The Essa briefly consulted, fluttering part-way down the hole. ‘He is not alone. There are Griddas, too.’
‘I know.’ Rachel peered down the hole. It dropped vertically for over a mile. Moist smells drifted up.
‘Newborns,’ the Essa said. ‘That is their smell, the smell of birthing levels. Why is Serpantha with them?’
‘I don’t know,’ Rachel said. ‘We’ll go down.’ She shimmied to the edge of the hole, letting her feet dangle while she calmed herself. ‘Feet first,’ she said. The Essa took stances on her shoelaces, or
leaned forward on the toe caps, ready to confront whatever was out there. Once they were set, they squeezed her tightly. ‘Go ahead, go ahead,’ they said.
‘Don’t let go of me.’
‘We won’t,’ they promised her.
Slowly – using her magic as a brake – Rachel slid down the hole. After a long descent a chute dumped them out. The Essa sprang from her at once, fanning out protectively. Before them lay the humid levels of the birthing chambers.
Rachel threw the entrances open.
Normally there would have been thousands of boisterous young Griddas to greet her, all the unrestrained cries of new life. Instead, there were only a small number of newborns. These gazed up with open curiosity when they saw the strangers, too young to know any fear. A few were actually biting a path out of their eggs, or, freshly hatched, tottering uncertainly about on the slippery floor. In a corner a tangle of sisters appeared to be playing a game.
Not a game, Rachel suddenly realized. The scent of Serpantha was on these infants.
She rushed over with the Essa. The closest newborn hissed – and another, liking that sound, copied her.
With fury, Rachel screamed, ‘Get away from him!’ She raised about herself a sheath of power even the newborns could not mistake, and they fled into a tributary tunnel.
Rachel and the Essa were alone with Serpantha.
The lips of the Wizard were bound with spell-thread. The Essa helped Rachel remove it. They did so delicately, to avoid cutting into him any more than the thread had already done. Inside his mouth there was more thread. As the last thread was removed from his tongue, Rachel felt all Serpantha’s ancient spells sigh with relief.
Alive, Rachel realized. Alive!