“I’ve plumbed the depths. You’ve done tremendous things. The balance has tipped. You’re the strong one now.”
“We’re both strong,” said Glynnie.
“And that’s a good thing.”
Neither spoke for a while. Rix stared into the fire. He could feel her gaze on him.
“Rix?” said Glynnie tentatively. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything. Anything at all.”
“Can I ride with you?”
“For the rest of your life,” said Rix.
CHAPTER 101
Green acid fumes were whirling all around, condensing on the coils of the still, fizzing on the zinc plates of some arcane apparatus beyond, stinging her cheeks, burning her ears and nose. Tali closed her eyes and held her breath, though that would only gain her one more minute of life.
She fumbled a shirt out of her pack, wiped her face and spat out bloody saliva. All her exposed skin was stinging now.
Thump! She was caught around the waist, heaved effortlessly into the air and carried away, just ahead of the rolling green cloud. The implosion must have strengthened Lyf for he was carrying her weight without effort.
It had given her a painful, temporary power as well, just as it had that time in the sunstone shaft, but not enough to take him on. Lyf shot through roiling fumes towards the side wall, wrenched open a heavy glass door and dropped her onto the floor. He slammed the door and shoved a rubbery seal against it at the base.
They were in a small, square emergency chamber, empty save for a water barrel and a bank of seven levers on the right-hand side. Lyf thrust the levers forward, one by one, and Tali heard sets of water-driven box fans start up outside. He turned and studied her enigmatically.
“You would suffer so agonising a death to save your people?”
“I swore an unbreakable oath,” said Tali. “Why did you save my life?”
“I saved the master pearl. Your life was incidental.”
“Are you going to cut it out now?”
“After I’ve checked on my people. If the sunstone knocked them unconscious — ”
“If you want to save them, you’d better hurry,” she said exhaustedly.
Her eyes were burning again. She felt her way across to the water barrel and ducked her head. When she cleaned her eyes, Lyf was gone.
Tali checked the door. It was locked. She reached out with her gift, to see if she could unlock it, but it did not budge.
She dressed hastily, knowing Lyf could come back at any moment, then hurled her loincloth, the symbol of her enslavement, into the darkest corner. Even if she only had minutes to live she wasn’t wearing it any longer.
Since she could not get out, she began to check the tunnels with the mage glass, one by one. Lyf was flitting back and forth, rousing his people. The bursting sunstone had knocked most of the enemy unconscious, but there was still fighting here and there. She had saved the Pale from immediate destruction, but for how long?
Tobry should have stood out among both the Pale and the grey-skinned enemy, but she saw no sign of him, or Holm. She closed her eyes, remembering Tobry as she had last seen him through the mage glass, rampaging up and down the tunnels, gone berserker in his madness. Tears leaked from her eyes. How had such a wonderful man been reduced to this.
Could he be healed with magery? Both Holm and Tobry had said no, but no one really knew. If it was possible at all, the best chance must be here in Cython, close to the greatest source of healing power of all — the heatstone mine. But to attempt it she would have to make the irrevocable choice between healing and destruction, and if she chose healing she could never use destructive magery to help the Pale.
Alkoyl ate through the lock, silently. The door opened, closed again, then Wil’s callused fingers closed around Tali’s throat from behind.
“All Wil’s fault,” he slurred. “Should have betrayed you to Matriarch Ady when she asked.”
Tali fought her instinctive urge to struggle — he was too strong.
His fingers opened and closed, opened and closed, squeezing her throat so hard that her windpipe was flattening. He was playing with her life, drawing out the delicious moments before he took it. Tali waited until he was directly behind her then slammed her head backwards into his ruined nose, caving it in.
Wil screamed. She slammed her head back again and again, until his hands relaxed. He was lurching around, blinded by tears of agony. His face and hands were red from the acid fumes he had walked through to get to her and blood was flooding from his nose. She shouldered him aside, stumbled for the door, and out.
Most of the green mist had cleared, though the air still stung her nose and made her eyes water. She pounded across to the walled-off drive. Blood was still dribbling from the cracks, low down, and she could hear a few desultory hammer blows on it, but it was clear the Pale weren’t going to break through without assistance.
Tali ran down to the back of the chamber, to the racks and crates she had seen earlier. Her lungs were burning now, her eyes watering so badly that she could barely see. She stuffed half a dozen grenadoes into her pack, strapped on a belt of death-lashes and plodded back to the wall.
“Stand back!” she yelled through the biggest crack.
The hammering stopped. Tali hurled the first of her grenadoes at the centre of the wall, where it was cracked from Holm’s earlier blast. Boom! The centre of the wall crazed. She hurled the second grenado at the base, a third of the wall fell away and she saw the desperate Pale on the other side. They kicked and smashed the broken stone out of the way and burst through, slipping and skidding on the bloody drive.
What a pitiful remnant they were. Tali peered through, trying to count the ones up the drive. They numbered twelve hundred at most, less than half of those who had followed her out of the Empound only hours ago. Many were injured and all looked exhausted. The rebellion could not last much longer.
Radl was at their head, wounded in many places and trembling with weariness, but the light had not gone out in her eyes. And, to Tali’s joy, Holm was beside her.
“This way,” said Tali. “There are grenadoes and all kinds of other weapons down the back, in those crates.” She pointed. “Hurry! There’s a ramp on the other side — they may come that way.”
“Did you do that?” said Radl.
“What?”
“Knock down three thousand of the enemy.”
“I broke a great sunstone,” said Tali. “Nearly killed me.”
“You saved us. Without that reprieve, they would have slaughtered us all.”
To Tali’s astonishment, Radl, her enemy since childhood, threw her arms around her. After a few seconds she broke away and clambered onto the top of a steel retort.
“Arm yourselves and get ready to fight,” she yelled. “The enemy will soon be back; we’ve got to be ready.”
The Pale did not move. They seemed to be in shock, which was not surprising after all they had seen and done, and in the brief hiatus from fighting many had reverted to their apathetic former selves. They had to be roused again, quickly, otherwise the last resistance would be crushed and Lyf would lawfully order the rest of the Pale put to death.
Tali scrambled up beside Radl. “Do you have loved ones back in the Empound?” she said to the Pale.
They stared at her, sullen, afraid.
“Answer me!”
Nothing.
Radl growled, deep in her throat. Springing lightly down, she stalked to the nearest group of Pale and seized a woman by the throat. After shaking her like a cat with a rat, Radl threw her down, then slammed her fist into the jaw of the next man, rocking him backwards.
“Well?” she said.
“Yes. My family are back in the Empound.”
“Well?” Radl demanded, looking down on the gathered Pale.
“Yes,” shouted the Pale.
“You know what will happen to your families if our rebellion fails.”