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She put up one hand, staring at him. ‘Nish, I’m sorry …’ Her eyes crossed and she went for him again.

He pushed her away, harder this time. Ullii lost her grip and fell until she reached the limit of her safety line. The harness pulled tight around her chest and the shock broke her free of T’Lisp’s compulsion. She hung on the line, slowly revolving, staring into space.

Nish retreated along the rope as quickly as he dared, realised that his hooks were also steel, and swiped at the nearest with his knife, across and back. Not a spark.

A soldier was lowered over the side of the amphitheatre on a line, thirty or forty spans away to his left, followed by a second, a few spans nearer. Nish rotated on his hooks. More soldiers appeared to the right.

Nish struck furiously at the steel. His plan had failed – should he take the easy way out and let go? Suicide wasn’t in his nature, but allowing himself to be caught was also suicide, the only difference being in the excruciations Ghorr would put him through first.

Still trying to make a spark, he didn’t notice the change that had come over Ullii, the sudden calm and resolve. He didn’t see her edging towards him until she was almost within arm’s reach. Her face was a mask that showed nothing at all, though her eyes were fixed on him and her free hand clenched and unclenched. She reached up and unfastened her safety rope.

‘Ullii,’ he hissed, holding the knife out crossways as a barrier. ‘What are you doing?’

Her fingers flexed but she did not reply.

‘Ullii, Scrutator T’Lisp is controlling you. She’s telling you to come after me, isn’t she? Is that what you really want to do?’

She hung there for a moment, one-handed, like an acrobat.

‘T’Lisp is evil, Ullii,’ he went on quickly. ‘As evil as Ghorr or Scrutator Fusshte. You’ve got to resist her.’

‘I can’t,’ Ullii gasped. ‘She’s too strong.’

‘Try with your very heart.’

‘I can’t do it, Nish.’

She killed Yllii! Try for our son’s sake, as you’ve never tried before. Look for your lattice and use it against her, or the whole world is dead.’

‘She said that before,’ Ullii whispered. ‘She told me I had to help her or you would destroy everything.’

‘I may be a fool, Ullii, and I may have done some stupid things in my time, but I don’t hold the fate of the world in my hands. The scrutators do.’

‘I … don’t know.’ She had to force it out.

‘Who do you believe, Ullii? Think of all you know about me, the good and the bad. And then think about the scrutators, and decide whom you can trust.’

Ullii really did try, and the struggle was reflected on her face, then she broke and launched herself through the air at him. Her arms went around his chest and her hands locked in the middle of his back, binding his arms to his sides. She bared her sharp little teeth and went for his throat.

‘No, Ullii,’ he cried, ducking his head out of the way. The impact had sent him swinging wildly and Nish was afraid his hooks would pull out. He couldn’t get his hands up to fix them, and if he managed to break free of Ullii she would fall.

She went for his throat again.

‘Ullii, it’s Scrutator T’Lisp controlling you. You’ve got to stop her.’ Out of the corner of his eye Nish could see the soldiers fastening their climbing ropes to the horizontal stay cables, preparing to come after them.

‘Ullii,’ he said, forcing himself to be as measured as possible. ‘Would Myllii want you to do this?’

It was the wrong thing to say. ‘You killed him,’ she screamed, trying to bite his nose. Nish jerked his head sideways and her teeth fastened onto his cheek and sank in through the skin. The pain made him lose control.

‘And you’re killing me, for the scrutators who killed our son! Can’t you get that through your thick skull, you stupid little bitch! You’re killing me.’

Ullii reacted as if she’d been struck across the face. She threw her head back and her eyes focussed on Nish’s bleeding cheek.

He’d broken through, if just for a second. ‘Please, Ullii, if there’s anything left in the lattice, use it.

Ullii strained, squeezing him so hard that his ribs creaked. A red mist passed before his eyes, Nish came over all faint and her face began to fade, replaced by the oddest vision.

A black, barbed knot, like a spinning ball covered in hooks, was whirling towards him. Other knots near and far were out of focus. He had to be seeing Ullii’s lattice. So it wasn’t lost after all.

‘If I lose it,’ Ullii said plaintively, ‘I’ll have nothing left.’

It took an effort to reply, for he couldn’t draw breath. ‘You’re not going to lose it.’

‘It’s been fading for weeks. It’s nearly gone. To use it will take everything I have left.’

Nish managed to raise his head and open his eyes. ‘If you give me up to them, how would you explain that to little Yllii?’

Tears welled in her eyes, as pink as if they’d flowed across caked blood. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

‘When Ghorr takes us, he’ll torture me to death and give you to Fusshte to play with.’

She drew a deep breath and in his vision the spinning knot slowed then stopped. Glowing filaments extended out in all directions, while the centre went from black to orange to blue-white.

Nish’s brain felt as though it had revolved in his head. ‘Ullii?’ he gasped.

The soldiers jerked on their ropes, one man spinning like a spider dangling from a web, another freezing into a rigid spread-eagle. A third lost his grip and fell.

The clamour from above ceased abruptly. Nish felt a swelling pressure and caught a whiff of charred hair. People cried out in horror or disgust; he could hear them running. Someone retched, right above his head. Then, boom-splat, and something heavy thudded onto the deck.

The canvas began to char in the shape of a head and neck. As Nish stared at the blackening fabric, it pinholed and clear fluid began to drip through, followed by a loop of yellow slime that grew ever longer. Droplets of watery blood ran down the dangling thread.

Plop. An eyeball slid through the slowly enlarging hole, dangling from its optic nerve. A red-raw tongue slithered through another hole as the charring spread across the canvas.

Then, to Nish’s disgust and horror, a smoking face, bare of skin, flopped down on its skinless, wattled neck. The canvas parted to reveal the other eye, staring at them, still alive. It was Scrutator T’Lisp, all that was left of her.

Ullii cried out in horror and tried to throw herself out of the way. Nish crushed her to him with his free arm as the blue-lipped mouth opened, the yellow, angled teeth parted in a smile that was mostly rictus. For a moment Nish thought T’Lisp was going to scream a death spell at him, but a revolting sucking gurgle cut off what she had been going to say. Her jaws were forced open, she heaved once, twice, three times, then her intestines oozed out of her mouth, popping and squelching as they came.

Nish’s stomach heaved, though all he brought up was a thin green trickle of bitter bile that burned his throat and mouth. He spat the residue carefully to one side of a now limp Ullii and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

By the time he’d finished, the other eyeball had popped out, but the charred canvas gave way under the ruined creature’s torso and, thankfully, it fell through.

Framed by the hole, not two spans away, was the horrified face of Chief Scrutator Ghorr, spattered with the indescribable remnants of his former colleague. Red-brown fumes wisped from the sable collar of his coat and, to his left, Scrutator Fusshte was doubled over, choking. Behind him a pair of soldiers reeled in circles as if drunk. Whatever Ullii had done, it hadn’t just affected T’Lisp.