Alchymist

The footsteps came closer. She swung the sword back and forth, preparing to spring. The dark figure cleared its throat, she realised who it was and the panic seemed ridiculous.

'Nish!' she hissed, weak with relief. 'What the bloody hell are you doing? I was about to skewer you.'

Trisis? What's the matter?'

She sensed him peering this way and that, trying to pick her out of the dark. 'Come in here.' She pulled him through the doorway of her room. 'What are you doing?'

'I couldn't sleep so I went for a pee. Is something wrong?'

Her knees went weak and she had to sit down on the bed, which annoyed her. 'Sorry, Nish. I thought you were an intruder, coming to slice open our gullets while we're asleep.'

'In Fiz Gorgo?' said Nish. 'This has to be the safest place in Santhenar. Even the lyrinx stay clear of it. What's the matter with you tonight?'

'I had a feeling of doom. I suppose it was a bad dream.'

'You're always having feelings of doom, Irisis.'

'Which surely means it's on it's way.'

'I was just up on the balcony with Yggur and I didn't see-'

'What was he doing up there?'

'I suppose he likes the solitude.'

'Well, I don't,' she muttered.

He sat on the bed beside her. 'I've never seen you so jumpy. At least, not since we were back at the manufactory, when-'

'I don't want to talk about that,' Irisis cut in more sharply than she intended. 'I've been having bad dreams lately.'

'What kind of dreams?'

'The kind where I come to a nasty end. I'm scared, Nish. We're not going to survive Nennifer.'

'You're being ridiculous. I can see you as a great-grandmother, with fifty grandchildren and great-grandchildren around you.'

'I can't, Nish. Not even one child, though I do so long for it.' He put his arms around her. 'Hush. It's late, and dark, and you're just twitchy because things haven't been going well. It'll all be better tomorrow I'm going back to bed.' 'Stay with me, Nish. Just for a little while.' She was warm and his bed was cold. And she was his dearest friend. 'Just a few minutes. I've got a lot to do in the morning.'

Nish lay on the bed, holding her but fretting. Eventually realising that Irisis was asleep, he eased himself out from her embrace, folded the covers over her and headed to his own cold bed. He still could not sleep.

The attack began not long before dawn, when the night was at its blackest. The sixteen air-dreadnoughts had manoeuvred themselves perfectly into position beforehand, fifteen surrounding the walls of Fiz Gorgo, the sixteenth on station high above, keeping watch for flying lyrinx. They did not expect to see any, and Ullii had spotted none in her lattice, but Chief Scrutator Ghorr was not a man to take chances where his own life was concerned.

Crossbow snipers checked the walls with hedron-enhanced night glasses, another new development from the workshops of Nennifer. There were only four guards on duty in Fiz Gorgo, for Yggur's walls protected him against anything short of an army. No land force could come at him through the swamp forests of Orist, even had they been able to evade thelyrinx further east. The guards were identified before it was light enough for them to see the air-dreadnoughts, the snipers picking all four off in the same instant. Fiz Gorgo now lay unprotected save for certain defences Yggur had installed in the towers, but these were useless at such a distance. Besides, they were unmanned, for the protection had been broken without giving any warning.

In Ghorr's air-dreadnought, a quarter of a league away at the northern point of the compass, Ullii pinpointed each of Yggur's three defences.

'Very good,' said Ghorr, once the locations had been relayed to his troops. 'Ullii, I have here an ancient map of Fiz Gorgo. Mark out for me the positions of Xervish Flydd, Irisis Stirm and Perquisitor Fyn-Mah.'

Ullii studied the map. In the dim light she did not need to wear her goggles. She took hold of the paper. 'I don't understand it.'

Ghorr patiently turned the map around. It was beginning to get light. 'There's the tower on the left. See it? And this line is the outer wall.'

'I see it,' said Ullii.

'Where are they?'

Ullii shuddered. 'I – I-'

'Don't let me down now, Seeker.'

She said nothing. Ullii was in torment.

'You do know,' said Ghorr, 'how I treat those who fail me?'

'Yes!' she gasped.

'And remember, those who made you suffer so cruelly are traitors all. Remember what they did to your brother. They hate you, Ullii.'

She closed her eyes, as if that could hide her, then opened them again. 'Irisis is here.' She pointed to the map. 'Flydd along here. And Fyn-Mah,' she hesitated. Ullii had no quarrel with the perquisitor. 'She is here.'

'You're absolutely sure?'

'Yes,' she whispered.

'Very good. You may go.' She began to scuttle away. 'No, wait a moment.'

Ullii came creeping back. This was the moment she had been dreading.

'What else can you tell me about this place, Seeker? Can you see anything else in your lattice?'

'Yes,' she said faintly.

'What is it? You can see magical artefacts, can't you?'

Hundreds!' she rushed out, greatly relieved, 'Hundreds?' Ghorr frowned. 'But of course, it must be the ancient trove of the great mancer Yggur, who dwelt here for centuries. You'll come with us, Seeker, to show us where the hoard is.'

He turned away, but something about her manner must have bothered him, for he swung back. 'Is there anything else I should know, Ullii?'

'O-other mancers, surr,' she stammered.

Giving Ullii an unpleasant smile, Ghorr lifted her onto the tips of her toes. 'What other mancers, Seeker?'

'I don't know who they are, but there are three, and each is very great. Greater – as great as you, surr,' she amended hastily.

'Really?' he whispered. 'What can you tell me about them?'

'Nothing, surr, but for one, an Aachim.'

'Aachim!' he ejaculated. 'What's an Aachim mancer doing here? This changes things,' Ghorr said to Fusshte. 'We don't want to upset the Aachim. Is that all, Seeker?'

Ullii stood there, frozen to the spot.

'You've been very helpful, Ullii,' Ghorr cajoled, 'and when we return home you shall have your reward – whatever you care to name. Just tell me what else you saw in your wonderful lattice, that no one else in the world can see.'

'Tiaan, surr,' she whispered. 'I can see Tiaan, and her amplimet, and a flying construct.'

Ghorr almost fell down in astonishment. He went to his knees, kissed the canvas deck then sprang up with a silent cry of exultation. Seizing Ullii's hand he kissed it as well.

She tore her hand free with a look of profound disgust, but he did not notice. Fate had just offered Ghorr the world and nothing was going to stand in his way. Calling Fusshte and his lieutenants together, he rapped out orders, then turned to his men.

Ghorr said, in a low but carrying voice, 'Soldiers and crew, below us lies the greatest prize in all of Lauralin, one I never dared to hope for – a prize that can win us the war. It is Artisan Tiaan Liise-Mar, her precious amplimet, and the unique, marvellous flying construct. At all costs we must secure them, even if, in so doing, our enemies escape. But we will not let them escape, for they don't know we're here.'

He paused while signallers semaphored his words, with luminous coloured flags, to the soldiers assembled on the decks of the other air-dreadnoughts.

'They've got no army to protect them,' Ghorr continued 'just a few guards. When I give the word, you will begin the attack. Watch all the escape routes. Let not a soul get away. For every person captured alive, there will be a reward beyond your dreams. We will make an example of these renegades that will be sung for a thousand years, and the whole of Santhenar must know of it.

'The evil traitor Xervish Flydd is worth ten thousand gold tells if captured alive and fit to stand trial, but only one hundred dead. There are two other mancers here as well. I don't know who they are, but clearly they are scoundrels and renegades. For each of them, the prize shall be two thousand gold tell if captured alive, but a mere forty dead. And for the lesser villains: a thousand gold tells if alive, or twenty dead, for Cryl-Nish Hlar or Irisis Stirm; five hundred alive or ten dead for Perquisitor Fyn-Mah; and fifty tells alive or one dead for each of the ordinary folk. Do not fail me. Any man who does will go to a scrutators' quisitory, and I need not tell you-'