Alchymist

He turned to the seeker. 'Ullii, we are getting closer, are we not?'

'I can't tell.' Fear grew in her: fear that the lattice was failing, for it was harder to see each time; and fear of Ghorr and the scrutators, and what they would do once they'd captured their quarry and had no further need of her. She had to protect herself, which meant finding someone to look after her. But no one on these air-dreadnoughts cared if she lived or died, or how much she suffered.

She idly scanned her lattice, started, and again Ghorr noticed her flinch.

'Yes, Seeker?'

She didn't want to answer, but she had to. 'J — just then, for a second, I saw an opening like an eye.'

An opening? In what?'

'I can't tell.'

'What else did you see? What was in the opening?'

'A strange knot.'

'Tell us more, Seeker' said Fusshte.

'The knot shone out like someone peering from a hole cut in a cloud, then disappeared.'

'Did it now? Whose knot was it?'

'I don't know. It was strange but very strong. A mancer's knot.'

'Really?' he said. 'The cloud must be some kind of protection. That gives me an idea, Seeker.’

She waited numbly for his orders.

'Do you remember how you got Irisis out of her prison cell in Nennifer, Ullii?'

Of course she did. It was only the second brave thing she had done in her life. 'Yes,' she whispered.

'You held the magicked lock's knot in place and rotated the rest of your lattice around it, and that opened the door without breaking my magic.’

'Yes.' She felt faint just talking to him.

'What if you were to do that now? Hold that knot, what you remember of it, in place and redraw your lattice from the other side.'

'I'll try,' she said softly, 'though I don't see what—'

'Just do it,' he said. 'I won't punish you if you fail — only if you don't try hard enough.'

Ullii was so afraid that, at first, she could not see her lattice at all. When it finally appeared, more pale and ghostly than she had ever seen it, she recognised nothing but the bright knots made by Ghorr's scrutators and mancers, and the controllers that powered the air-dreadnoughts. Ghorr had to calm her, as unpleasant an operation as she could imagine, before she recovered the knot.

You have it!' said Ghorr, dark eyes gleaming. 'Now, make your lattice anew, looking the other way.'

Ullii closed her eyes and put her hands over the goggles for good measure. Holding the image of that strange knot, she dissolved the rest of the lattice, turned the knot around in her mind and began to redraw the lattice from the other per-spective. It became sprinkled with blotches, smudges and knots, near and far. The blotches were objects that used some form of the Art like controllers. The smudges were fields gen-erated by nodes, while the knots indicated people who had some talent for the Art. A dim smudge was the cloud of protection but she could see through it now. Inside, she recognised several knots. Irisis was in the centre. Close by, Ullii saw Fyn-Mah, and Flydd, and other knots too, some very strong.

'I've found them.' She took her hands away from the goggles.

Ghorr's head swung around and his eyes glowed like broken glass melting from underneath. 'Where?' he hissed.

Her finger traced a line along the map until it encountered a dot with two small words beside it: Fiz Gorgo. 'There.' Ghorr purred and called the scrutators. 'To the air! We can be there by three in the morning. Plan number seven.'

Nish went to bed early but tossed, turned and woke half a dozen times, uneasy, though he had no idea why. Deciding that he was never going to get back to sleep, he went down to the privy, relieved himself and headed back through the frigid corridors. Worms of ice, frozen seepage, oozed through the dark walls. Fiz Gorgo always seemed cold, even if it didn't have quite the perpetual dank frigidity of the manufactory, and Nish didn't mind it. He had grown up in such climes and Fiz Gorgo was more to his liking than the hot, parched plains of western Lauralin, where he had spent much of the past year.

Still wide awake, he turned up the narrow stone stairs to Yggur's lookout. As he stepped out onto the crumbling stone balcony, he realised someone was standing there, leaning on the rail. Nish smelt an aroma like liquorice. Yggur!

'Worried about tomorrow, Nish?' said Yggur, not looking around.

'I've been through too much to bother about the future,' Nish said untruthfully. 'I can't sleep. My mind keeps going round and round, fretting in case I've forgotten something.'

'Mine too,' said Yggur. 'And no doubt you feel left out, and worried that we've planned this mission in haste and unjustifiable optimism.'

'We-e-e-ll. .'.' said Nish.

'You can admit it. I'm not an ogre.'

'Is such secrecy really necessary, surr?'

'Probably not, but I'd rather not chance it. What do you think of the night?'

What a strange question. 'It's very still.'

'Aye, it can be at this time of the year. That's one of the things I like best about Fiz Gorgo. When the wind's not blowing, and the forest creatures are curled up in their holes, there's a stillness here that I've not felt anywhere else. It's why I've always come back. I like it when nothing is happening.'

'So do I,' said Nish. 'I'll leave you to it, then.'

'Stay a moment,' said Yggur. 'I…I feel…No, tell me what you feel.'

'Is something wrong, surr?'

'I feel uneasy tonight, though I can't say why. What about you?'

'An awful lot rests on this attack on Nennifer,' said Nish.

'Yes. And so, despite the risk, there really isn't any choice.'

'I suppose not.' Nish came to the rail, staring out. The darkness was complete, save for occasional lights winking on and off in the invisible forest. 'What's that?' he hissed.

Yggur chuckled. 'Not lyrinx, you can be sure. It's just fireflies in the swamp.'

They leaned on the rail for some time, not speaking. Yggur offered Nish a piece of liquorice root. Nish chewed on it, reflectively. The night seemed to be brooding, even ominous, though the dark always encouraged such feelings in him.

Yggur spat over the rail. The aroma of liquorice filled the balcony. 'It was nothing. I'm a morbid fellow at the best of times, and sometimes my dark thoughts just go round and round. I'll bid you good night.'

'Goodnight,' said Nish. 'I'll stay a while. I can't sleep, anyway.'

Yggur's boots went down the steps. A cold breeze curled around the side of the wall and Nish pulled his coat tighter about his neck. The night lent itself to introspection. What would become of them? He wasn't just thinking of this suicidal mission. Every year of his life the losses of the war had been greater, until the lyrinx had seemed like a disease creeping across the world. The climax was rapidly approaching.

Even if they won at Nennifer, and replaced the Council, there was too little time to be ready. Once spring came, every-thing he knew and loved looked set to be swept away in a few weeks of violence. It was not a thought conducive to further sleep, but he had to be rested for the morrow, so Nish headed back to bed.

As he reached the lowest flight, feeling his way in pitch darkness, a great five-lobed shadow blotted out the stars to the north of Fiz Gorgo. Another moved in beside it, and a third, drifting down the wind, its rotors silent. More crept into posi-tion to the sides of Fiz Gorgo, and yet more. The night became so still that even the wind seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the moment when all sixteen air-dreadnoughts were in place. Waiting for the order to attack.

Irisis rolled over in bed, trying to scrape the cobwebs from her brain. Something had disturbed her. Her heart was thudding as if she'd just run all the way to the top of Yggur's watch-tower. Her throat was dry, her hands sweaty. What was the matter?