‘Are you ready to look for Tiaan?’ Nish said shortly. ‘Can you …’
‘Of course!’ Ullii was transported, positively bubbling now as she put on the mask.
Jal-Nish rapped on the back hatch. ‘Well?’ he snapped.
Nish flipped the hatch open, forcing the perquisitor to leap out of the way. ‘She is looking.’
‘And?’ cried Jal-Nish. ‘Come out, seeker.’
Ullii climbed out, keeping well clear of him.
‘What can you see, seeker?’ said Jal-Nish.
She said nothing. ‘Tell us what you see, Ullii,’ Nish said, taking her right hand.
She flung out her left. ‘I can see her!’ She pointed to the south-west.
Clearly the perquisitor had expected nothing. ‘Are you sure?’ he said incredulously. ‘How far?’
‘Not far. Her crystal is shining like the morning star.’
Irisis let out a strangled cry. The sun broke through the overcast for a moment. Jal-Nish smiled. It was not a pretty sight. He gave a jerk of the head. ‘After her!’
PART FOUR
FLESH-FORMER
THIRTY-FOUR
‘Get up! We’re going.’
Tiaan snapped awake. Ryll was at the entrance, staring down. She rolled out of the bearskin, too panicky to feel self-conscious. The lyrinx must have turned her clothes during the night for, apart from the heavy coat, they were dry. She dressed quickly in four layers of clothing, all smelling of smoke. The boots were still damp but at least they were warm.
In five minutes she was ready. ‘What’s the matter?’ She stood by his side at the entrance.
He simply pointed down the mountain. Far below, two columns of marching soldiers, and the four clankers, crawled like grey caterpillars across the snowfield. Their tracks ran across the landscape, perfectly straight, all the way from the river. The awful memory came back – the four clankers surrounding them on the ice, firing their javelards. Trying to kill her. Her own people would sooner do that than allow Ryll to get away with her! Her loyalty to the manufactory vanished. She would have to make her own way in the world now. For the moment that must be with Ryll, since there was no possibility of escaping him.
‘How did they find me?’ Ryll murmured. ‘I covered my path well.’
‘The fire?’ said Tiaan, though it gave off little smoke and the entrance faced away from the river. ‘Or carrion birds?’
‘See how straight their tracks are? They must have a way of finding you; or your crystal.’
‘I was not aware that could be done at any distance.’ She knew so little about the Secret Art, even as used in such systems as she had been making for years. But then, the lyrinx had been able to detect the aura from controllers …
‘Must I tie your wrists again?’ Ryll asked.
The feeling of helplessness when she had gone into the river with bound hands had been terrifying. ‘I won’t try to escape.’
‘There would not be much point to it.’
Ryll slid along the edge into the shadows, then headed up. The face of the mountain was steep. In her state the climb proved impossible and after the first stumble he tucked her under his arm. Ryll seemed untroubled by the extra weight, but he could cling with the claws on his hands and feet.
Toward the top he tied her to his chest. ‘In case you fall,’ he said.
She tried not to think what would happen if he fell.
They followed a path of his choosing for three days. Tiaan had no choice in the matter; she had no idea where they were going, though they were heading south-west, roughly the way she wanted to go.
She saw the clankers several times on the first day, but they fell further behind and by the afternoon there was no more sign of them.
Each day was much the same. They began at dawn with a feed of bear meat – roasted for her, raw for him – then walked for as long as Tiaan could keep up. When she flagged they stopped, Tiaan ate, he put her on his back and kept going until dark, or after dark if the country permitted it. Finally they would stop for dinner and sleep in a snow cave, or under an overhang.
‘I believe we’ve lost them,’ Ryll said on the afternoon of the third day.
Tiaan rested behind a windswept boulder. The weather had been good these last days but an ominous bank of clouds was building in front of them. ‘We’d better find shelter for the night, and tomorrow too.’
‘I know a place.’ The lyrinx indicated a steep-sided plateau in the distance.
She gauged the progress of the cloudbank. ‘We won’t make it.’
‘There’s nowhere else.’
Swinging her up on his shoulders, he began to run. Used to it by now, she merely clenched her thighs about his neck as if astride a horse and hung on, enduring the thumping ride. It was a race, and one they were going to lose. The overcast came in quickly, with chilly gusts and scattered snowflakes. Before they reached the base of the plateau, it was snowing hard.
He stopped at an outcrop of yellow rock, a broken cliff that went up further than she could see. ‘Better find a cave,’ Tiaan said.
Ryll swung her down and ranged along the base of the plateau, which rose abruptly from the plain. The incessant wind had blasted the rubble to dust and blown it away.
‘What about this?’ she shouted, for they were passing a series of small caves like a giant honeycomb in the rock.
‘I know where I’m going.’
She felt a twinge of unease but the storm was on them and there was no choice but to follow him. After some minutes, when visibility was down to the distance she could have spat a plum seed, Ryll went sideways into a slot no wider than her shoulders. A pattern of clefts cut the rock into stacks. She tried to map the way but soon lost the sequence, for every turn looked the same. Finally the lyrinx slipped into an even narrower gap, squeezed though a tight space and stopped.
It was calm here, the snow falling vertically. Grasping a rope that she had not noticed, he gave a series of tugs.
‘Get on my shoulders!’
She complied, now thoroughly alarmed. The rope jerked twice, Ryll took a firm grip and was drawn steadily up. The ground disappeared in the whirling snow, which was worse than looking down on the drop.
The rope stopped suddenly. The strain was showing on Ryll’s face and the knotted arms began to tremble. He looked up anxiously. Without warning the rope jerked again, so hard that his hands slipped on the fibres. Ryll let out a truncated cry. Tiaan almost wet herself, but his grip held.
Near the top they stopped again. He was really straining now. Another jerk and she saw flat ground, the edge of the plateau. A gust blew them sideways. Tiaan was sure they were going to fall.
She screamed, and again as a lyrinx much bigger than Ryll snatched him off the rope. She went backwards off his shoulders but Ryll’s hand found her ankle. As they were hauled in, she went close to dashing her brains out on the cliff edge.
Ryll stood her on her feet but had to hold her up, for Tiaan’s knees had turned plastic. Three lyrinx stood in an arc in front of them. Two were much bigger than Ryll, the third about his size. All stood in a crouch, arms curved, fingers flexed. Their skin colours rippled in unison, in waves of brilliant yellow and red. Warning colours.
‘Thlrrpith myrzhip?’ said the middle one in an aggressive voice.
‘Myrllishimirr, ptath vozzr!’ Ryll sounded defensive.
‘Sklizzipth moxor! Tcharr!’
The lyrinx to Tiaan’s left sprang and caught her by the arms. Its other hand grabbed her legs and raised her in front of its face. It was either going to tear her limbs off or bite her head from her neck.
‘Thlampetter rysh!’ roared Ryll. ‘Thlampetter rysh narrl.’
The lyrinx froze, looking from one of its fellows to the other, and then to Ryll.