Nish stood by the blaze, warming his hands on a mug of soup. He could hear his father’s voice through the wall of one of the tents.
‘That was a good bit of work you did today, sergeant.’
Rustina’s nasal accent replied. ‘It was close, surr, but I wish it had been closer. A lucky stroke that we were in position in time. We were near to perishing in the great blizzard.’
‘I was worried,’ said Jal-Nish.
I’ll bet you were, Nish thought. Worried that you’d be blamed if they were lost. The only thing you care about is becoming scrutator.
‘We could see foul weather coming from up top,’ came Rustina’s voice. ‘We’d planned for it and took shelter in an old mine tunnel. Lucky we got there in time. The blizzard came on faster than we expected. Without shelter we’d have been frozen solid.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down,’ said Jal-Nish.
Nish was disgusted. For the first time in his life he saw that ambition wasn’t everything.
In a bitter voice she replied, ‘No one wants to destroy lyrinx more than I do, surr.’
It was not until they had finished their dinner, and those not on watch or out searching were preparing for sleep, that anyone thought to ask Ullii if she could see Tiaan.
‘I could not see her when I was in the clanker,’ she said. ‘The evil man cried out and tried to claw me. I ran away and then I saw her crystal.’
‘That was just after Dhirr died,’ Irisis said to Jal-Nish. ‘He’d blocked her inner sight.’
‘And then what happened?’ asked Jal-Nish.
‘I saw her!’
‘You already said that.’
‘No, I saw her, through my goggles.’
‘As well as in your mind?’ Irisis asked.
‘Yes! But the clawer jumped into the water with her. I could not see her after that. Or her crystal.’
‘You could not see her with your mind?’ Nish guessed.
‘She went out like a lamp.’
‘She’s dead!’ said Irisis. ‘She either drowned or froze, and the hedron fell to the bottom. The cold put it out too.’ She turned away, looking bleak.
‘We should keep looking,’ said Fyn-Mah, who had scarcely uttered a word since her failed mancing.
‘Of course we will,’ Jal-Nish snapped. ‘We’re not here to guess but to make certain.’
It blew a gale in the night. Arple called his troops in and even Jal-Nish knew better than to argue. The sentries had one of the most miserable nights of their lives and it was still blowing hard when dawn came.
Nish’s fingers were so cold that it hurt to bend them. He said nothing – as a child his father’s belt had taught him not to complain. As soon as it was light he joined in the hunt, walking as fast as he could in the conditions, up and down river, across and back, with Irisis. He found nothing. No one did.
Jal-Nish refused to give up. The day passed and the following night, which was, if possible, even more bitter. The day after that dawned bleak and blizzardy. The soldiers began to mutter among themselves and not even Arple could stop them. The querist spoke to Jal-Nish several times during the day but he would not relent.
Finally Artificer Tuniz, after a long consultation with the clanker operators, spoke to Fyn-Mah, who accompanied her to Jal-Nish. Nish, waiting to go on watch, overheard their conversation.
‘We must go back, surr,’ said Tuniz, ‘else we are liable to lose the clankers.’
He turned sharply. His round face was pinched and hollow, the full lips a bloodless grey. The perquisitor looked like a man who had failed and could never accept it. ‘How so, artificer?’
‘It’s just too cold. The oil goes hard and does not do its job. If it gets any colder, and the oil freezes, we won’t be able to move the clankers at all.’
‘Then warm it up! You can do that, surely?’
Tuniz smiled with those filed teeth. ‘Aye, but it will just go hard again. And there’s another problem. A worse one.’
‘What now?’ Jal-Nish hated it when someone tried to convince him against his own conviction.
‘The metal of the linkages gets brittle in this kind of cold. If we break just one, we’ll have to abandon the clanker, and by the time we come back it will be buried for the winter. In the thaw it will rust solid.’
‘Very well,’ Jal-Nish said, bitter in his failure. ‘We leave at dawn.’
THIRTY-TWO
Tiaan dreamed that a lyrinx’s huge mouth had closed right over her head, to bite her off at the neck. She dreamed that she was whirled in visible currents of water, blue and green and purple. She dreamed that she had swallowed a fish, which was flapping around inside her left lung, its spines prickling.
Piercing, brittle cold; the worst she’d ever felt. A blow in her chest; another. Something with an overpowering gamey smell went over her face.
Thump, thump, thump, fading to nothing again.
Her fingers and toes hurt so much that she woke weeping. She was wrapped in something that itched and her feet felt as if they had been rubbed with broken glass.
Tiaan opened her eyes. She seemed to be in a cave, the entrance closed off by a hanging. A fire blazed behind her, another not far from her feet. Ryll squatted there, rubbing her feet and calves. The claws were retracted. His hand looked fully regenerated. He had a massive bruise above his right eye.
‘My feet feel like icicles that you could snap off,’ she whispered, too listless to question or even wonder.
‘There is broth.’ He busied himself at the fire, returning with one hand cupped. ‘Open your mouth.’
She opened up but, thinking what he might have made soup from, snapped it closed again.
‘What is wrong?’ the lyrinx asked.
‘It’s not …’
Ryll smiled, the first true smile she had seen on him. It was frightening – so many teeth – but disarming too. ‘It’s bear soup. A big old Hürn male, past his best. You’re wearing his skin.’
Tiaan, becoming aware that she was clad in nothing else, flushed.
‘Open!’ said Ryll.
She shook her head, able to think of nothing but that she lay naked in a bearskin at the mercy of this … predator.
Ryll pinched her nose until Tiaan was forced to open her mouth. The soup dribbled in. It was hot. She gagged, swallowed, found it good and swallowed again. A delicious warmth spread through her belly.
All dignity gone, she nuzzled at his hand like a starving calf, desperate for more. He filled his hand over and again from the hollow stone in the fire. Shortly, her stomach aching, Tiaan lay back. The cold was fleeing from her middle, though her feet and hands still felt dead. Ryll’s eyes did not leave her.
‘How did we escape?’ she asked. She could not remember those last seconds.
‘I wrapped myself around you, trying to keep you warm, but you died.’
She sat up, staring at him. She felt a tremendous pain in her chest. ‘What?’
‘The shock stopped your heart. I could not keep you warm enough. I went downriver a long away. Maybe half a … league, before I could get out.’
‘How did you survive?’
‘I nearly drowned. It was the greatest terror of my life. We do not like water.’
‘Why not?’ she croaked.
‘Swimming is hard for us. We do not float, and our wings tangle in the water. Fortunately,’ and she could sense his bitterness, ‘I have no wings. I found a hole but the ice kept breaking off. I couldn’t get out! I nearly went mad with panic.’ Black jags shivered across his chest plates. ‘The current pushed me under but, luckily, jammed me between a rock and the ice. I burst through and ran with you. Then came the piece of luck that saved your life. I found a cave in a gully, and in it was an old bear.’
‘A bear?’ she echoed.
‘I killed it, that you might live. There was no time for anything else. You had not breathed for half an hour but I knew the cold could have saved you. I’ve seen that before, with humans. I dared not make a fire. I took out the guts of the bear, put you inside and packed them in again. When you began to warm up, I struck you in the chest until your heart started beating.’