She had to consciously lay out, step by step, what had long ago become automatic. 'Start from the beginning, girl!' the old crafter had told her many times. 'You're trying to do more than your mind can manage.'
This place could not beat her. Imagining her starting point at the entrance to the ninth level, Tiaan mentally went into the dark and began to make her map anew. She traced a path to the intersection where she now stood. As she passed it, the side passages marked themselves on her map, though only as far as the illumination from the hedron reached.
She walked forward, slowly mapping the labyrinth again, then one time she went through an intersection and the cross-passages of her mental map ran off through the darkness to link up with another tunnel. She refused to think about that, just kept going, and suddenly the map exploded into her mind, entire and complete. At that instant she understood where the long tunnel to the other mine had to be.
She zig-zagged through the maze for a couple of hours, twice through breast-deep sections of water. It was cold and uncomfortable but she did not mind – the water was an obstacle to her pursuers too, and one they could not track her across. They would have to search every passage.
Once on the long tunnel, Tiaan moved as fast as she could. She had to get well ahead or she'd never dare to rest, and already she was desperate for sleep. After going hard for another few hours, Tiaan calculated that she'd gone about five thousand paces: a league. She sat down for a brief rest and a swig from Joeyn's flask. It was only water; the brandy was gone long ago. A pity -she could have done with something to warm her up right now.
Hunger had become a constant ache, one she could do nothing about. But at least she had heard no further sound from behind. That was no comfort. Maybe they knew where she was headed and had sent people off another way to catch her. Or maybe they were just sneaking along, biding their time. After all, they thought they were hunting a lyrinx.
On and on and on. Step after weary step. Slower and slower. Everything hurt except her stomach, which was numb, though when she drank it throbbed. Tiaan snatched a few hours of restless sleep, afraid they would come on her in the darkness. She lost track of time. Had it been a day, or two, or even three she'd been marching? Her map was still extending eastwards. She'd gone nearly five leagues in this winding, up-and-down but otherwise featureless passage.
At some point along that endless scream of infinity, Tiaan became aware that she was being followed. She did not know how she knew. There had been no sound, no telltale glimmer of light. Her pursuers were a long way back, but they were there. Tiaan came around a gentle curve in the tunnel, which dipped down and at the bottom contained water as far as the light extended. She moved into it, her legs so lethargic that it was like pushing through syrup. What if it was too deep to wade?
The water came up to her neck, her chin, her lips, then fell again. After ten minutes of splashing, the tunnel ended in smooth rock. Too smooth – it turned out to be a stone door and it took little searching to find the concealed lever that opened it. Tiaan was not surprised to find a door. There were many old tunnels in these mountains, and in the past whole villages had sheltered in them during the winter. She stood in the water, staring at the blank face. The tunnel walls were still granite but the door was pale grey stone. She ran the tip of the knife down it. Marble.
She heaved on the lever; the door rose vertically with much whining and grating, and when it reached its full height, an alarming twang. Water poured through, pulling at her trousers. Tiaan ducked under and took hold of the lever on the other side, wondering if she could seal the door against her pursuers. There was a louder twang, the slab fell, drenching her, and split down the middle.
Tiaan kept going, shortly to be confronted by a mound of blue clay and fragments of rock. A great shear cut across the tunnel, on the other side of which the pink granite changed to crystalline marble, streaked with blue and purple. Above, a ragged cavity extended into the darkness.
She passed through rock that was every colour and pattern she could imagine, eventually to emerge in a natural cavern about the size of the breeding factory. A ragged pool of clear water lay in the centre. The floor sloped up on all sides, though much higher to her left, where corrugated humps and hollows were reminiscent of theatre benches.
Tiaan drank from the pool, filled her flask, washed her face and hands, went up and heaved herself onto the highest hump. Down to her left, five passages led from the cavern, roughly like the ribs of a fan. Surely one of them was the exit she had been seeking for so long. Utterly exhausted, she made a bed between the humps and slept. In a long dreaming of being hunted, several times Tiaan was roused by sharp rapping, a distant, echoing sound as of metal on stone. It sounded like a stonemason working on a carving, except that the blows were few and separated by long intervals of silence.
The sound was more intriguing than disturbing; each blow roused Tiaan momentarily before she slipped back into sleep. Soon she settled into a dreamless slumber, the like of which she had not had in weeks. 'There it is! Up top! Careful now!'
The cry frightened Tiaan awake. The cavern stank of burning tar. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Four tarred sticks blazed in a staggered line down below, near the tunnel through which she had entered. Another crept towards her. The light revealed soldiers, in uniforms she did not recognise.
'It moves! Shoot now!' roared a man in sergeant's colours.
Tiaan threw herself flat. Crossbow bolts smashed into bench and wall. 'Stop!' she screamed.
After a silence, the sergeant shouted, 'Who are you?'
'I'm from Tiksi!' She dared not say her name. 'Don't fire!'
'Show yourself. Hold your hands high.'
She did so, slowly and carefully. Five heavily armed soldiers trooped up. She did not know any of them.
'I'm Sergeant Numbl, of the Morrin garrison,' said the leader. He was a tall man, greatly scarred on the left cheek. 'What are you doing here?'
'Have you seen the lyrinx?' a dark, thickset soldier added.
'There is no lyrinx,' she said weakly.
'What is she talking about?' the soldiers cried. 'Where has it gone?'
'Maybe it's a shapechanger lyrinx, turned itself into this miserable girl,' said a thin bald man. 'Better kill it to make sure.' Thrusting his sword forward, he twisted it and made a squelching sound.
Sergeant Numbl clouted him out of the way. A dangerous light flashed in his eyes and, taking Tiaan by the collar, he shook her. 'It was you! We've been hunting you, all the time.'
'Yes!' she whispered, terrified of the man.
'Who is she?' asked another soldier, who had a chirping, over-the-mountains accent.
'It must be the runaway from the breeding factory,' said the thickset soldier. 'The mad woman!'
'Shut up!' the sergeant roared over his shoulder. His face had gone purple, except for the scars, which were bone-yellow. 'Do you realise what you have cost us?'
'You were shooting at me!' she cried.
'Stupid girl!' Numbl slapped her hard across the face.
The bald soldier raised his sword. Drops of saliva hung on his lower lip. 'Let me finish her,' he said eagerly.
'We might as well have the pleasure of her first,' said a broad-shouldered, good-looking man with a receding chin disguised by wisps of beard. He began to tear at her garments. Tiaan tried to protect herself, but another soldier caught her hands.
This could not be happening. 'You're scum!' she said, struggling furiously. 'I'd sooner be eaten by a lyrinx.'
'That's all you'll be good for when we've finished with you,' said the good-looking man.
'You would take a woman without her consent, Pelf?' said Numbl.
'She's a runaway,' said Pelf. 'If you don't like it, walk away.'