Read Geomancer (Well of Echoes) Online
Authors: Ian Irvine
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy
Geomancer (Well of Echoes) (83 page)
The moment stretched out to eternity. She felt uncounted eyes on her, weighing up her face, her ragged hair, the tattered clothes. She knew what they were thinking.
‘Well, boy? Do you cleave to the wretch, abandoning your own people who hold such hopes in you? Is eternal exile what you want? She’ll be dead in twenty or thirty years. If you live to be a thousand we’ll not take you back.’
Minis looked up at them. ‘What if she were to come with us?’
Vithis looked taken aback, but Luxor and Tirior spoke to him in urgent tones, evidently favouring this way out of the impasse. Vithis turned back.
‘Not as your partner, Minis! She is not Aachim, and you know the sad fate of
blending
children.’ He spoke with the others again. ‘Very well. She has done us honourably, despite her blunder. You may bring her as your concubine, as long as precautions are taken.’
‘Will you come with us, Tiaan?’ Minis said with pleading eyes. ‘As my lover?’
Tiaan was mortally insulted. That was not what she’d had in mind at all. Concubine was a transaction that reminded her of the breeding factory. But … would it not be better than to lose Minis? She hesitated.
Minis reached out an arm, let it fall, then raised it again. ‘Tiaan …’ He broke off at a movement in the shadows to Tiaan’s left. Something flashed in and out of the rubble. Tiaan had forgotten Haani. What must the child be thinking, hearing all this?
‘Don’t leave me, Tiaan!’ screamed Haani. ‘Please don’t go with him.’
Tiaan recognised the danger too late. ‘No, Haani! Stay back!’
At the movement, the man in the turret swung his weapon around, aimed and released the lever. With deadly accuracy, it fired a club-headed projectile, meant to stun a warrior. As Haani emerged from the darkness the club struck her full in the chest, lifting her off her feet. She fell without a sound.
Tiaan dropped the ring and ran. ‘Haani, Haani!’ She fell to her knees beside the child, who lay on her back like a broken thing. Haani was trying to breathe but her chest was crushed. Liquid gurgled in her lungs.
Haani looked up at her. ‘My chest hurts,’ she gasped. ‘Help me, Tiaan. Sister.’
‘Of course I’ll help you.’ Tiaan could barely see for the tears dripping from her eyes.
‘You won’t leave me, will you?’ Haani choked. ‘Not like my mother and father and aunts did?’ She managed to get a breath. The pain made her shudder.
‘I’ll never leave you, Haani. I’ll be with you until the day I die.’
‘I’m sorry!’ wept Haani, trying vainly to reach into her pocket. ‘I forgot …’
‘What is it, little sister?’
‘I forgot to give you your birthday present.’ Tears poured down her cheeks.
Tiaan was having just as much trouble breathing. ‘It doesn’t matter, Haani.’
‘It’s today, and I forgot!’ she gasped, struggling for breath. ‘I’m sorry, Tiaan.’ Haani fumbled out a folded piece of leather, the last of the piece Tiaan had cut from the bottom of the boat. Inside lay a bracelet made of plaited strips of leather, with flower patterns clumsily burnt into it. ‘Tiaan, I love you,’ it said.
Tears sprang to Tiaan’s eyes as she slipped the bracelet on her left wrist. ‘Thank you, little sister. You didn’t forget at all. It’s still my birthday.’
‘I love you, Tiaan. You’ll make me better, won’t you?’
‘I love you too, more than
anyone
.’
She kissed Haani all over her little face and did not stop until it was clear that she was dead. The club had driven the broken ribs into her lungs.
Tiaan lifted Haani in her arms, surprised at how light she was. Carrying her out, she stopped in front of the first construct, the child’s little legs and arms hanging limp.
‘She’s dead!’
‘I offer condolences,’ said Vithis. ‘An unfortunate accident.’
‘She’s dead!’ Tiaan screamed. ‘An eight-year-old girl. There’s thousands of you and the greatest army on Santhenar, and you’re so frightened you have to kill a child? Curse you, Vithis. The Aachim are not noble. You are the craven of the Three Worlds!’
Vithis swelled with rage. ‘No one speaks to the Aachim like that, no matter what they have suffered. You are not worthy to be concubine. The offer is withdrawn.’
‘Cowards!’ spat Tiaan. ‘Oath-breakers! Your word means nothing to you.’
Vithis tossed down another bag. ‘Reparation for the child! Move out of the way, if you please.’
‘You can’t buy a child’s life, any more than you can buy me!’ She looked up at Minis. He was staring at her. She could still hope.
He put one foot on the floor.
‘It’s done and can’t be undone,’ growled Vithis, ‘no matter how much we might regret it. Nothing you do can make any difference, foster-son. It’s over. Take your place beside me.’
It would make all the difference in the world, Tiaan thought, if one of you actually
showed
you were sorry. Just you, Minis. Please.
Minis stared at the child. A tear ran from one eye, and he seemed to come to a decision. His eyes slid away and she knew she had lost everything.
‘I am truly sorry, Tiaan.’ He went back up the ladder to stand beside Vithis.
The constructs began to move, all in the same instant. She stood where she was, daring them to run her down and not caring if they did. Her eyes were fixed on Minis but he was staring straight ahead.
The front rank split and went around her. The succeeding ranks followed, heading down to the broken wall. They moved out onto the ramp of stone and ice, onto the glacier, and around the corner towards the lowlands.
‘Curse you!’ she screamed. Laying Haani’s body down gently, Tiaan ran back, gathered up the bags of platinum and hurled them after Minis’s construct. It did not help. Sitting beside the dead child she took the slender, bloodless hand in her lap. All for nothing. Less than nothing. She had bought their lives with Haani’s. So many people had died that she might bring the amplimet to this place. Fluuni, Jiini, Lyssa, Joeyn; whole squads of soldiers and many lyrinx too. She saw the broken bodies and knew that the price was too high.
The constructs kept coming for an hour and a half. While they were still going around her she stood up, Haani’s body in her arms.
‘I swear by this dead child,’ she whispered, ‘that I will
never
love again! I curse you, Minis, and all your line, until eternity. I will be revenged on you who have so betrayed me. You will live to regret that you left me alive,
noble
Aachim!’
It made her feel no better. Staring blindly after them, she was roused by the crash and grind of metal. Three constructs, locked together, hung on the lip of the gate. Another nudged them over. They struck the floor and broke apart. Aachim scrambled out and leapt onto the sides of the other constructs. The procession continued, another twenty-two machines, and that was all.
Tiaan stumbled to the gate, carrying the child. Looking up inside she saw a long tunnel, a wormhole curving to infinity. There were hundreds more constructs in it but they could not get out.
The surface of the gate shimmered with colour and began to break up. Quite suddenly, it vanished. Again she heard that awful wailing and knew that another host of Aachim had been lost in the void.
The final twenty-two constructs formed a line. They flashed beams vertically at the ceiling; a signal, or a requiem. Then they turned and followed the others out of Tirthrax.
As Tiaan watched the last machine disappear through the side of the mountain, another horror struck her.
‘We have a world to make our own,’ Vithis had said. Such a force as was assembled here would have taken years to create. All this must have been planned long ago. They had
used
her from the very beginning. Minis had not loved her at all. The Aachim had told him what to say and do, every word of it. She had betrayed her world, for nothing.
Nish, hiding in the shadows, stared at the rank after rank of black machines, standing hip-high above the floor. They looked vaguely like clankers though even from this distance he could tell how superior they were to the clankers he had worked on. A keen student of the Histories. Nish knew what they were.
They were constructs, made to the pattern of the one Rulke the Charon had built over two hundred years ago. Nish did not know who was inside them; he was too far away to tell. He assumed they were lyrinx, or their allies. However, it
was
clear that they represented the greatest threat Santhenar had ever faced, and that Tiaan had helped to bring them here. Traitorous bitch! His duty was self-evident. He must take her back for justice, no matter what it involved.
The constructs were moving again, going around Tiaan and heading towards the broken entrance. He pulled Ullii down the stairs until just their eyes peeped over.
Nish counted them past, noting how many there were, what size and how armed, and estimating the number of enemy that might be inside. The constructs numbered more than eleven thousand; the enemy a hundred and fifty thousand at the very least. That was priceless, strategic information, perhaps more important than capturing Tiaan. He must survive to get it home. Where had they come from? The armada was large and potent enough to deliver the final blow to humanity.
‘What was that?’ Ullii asked as the last construct went by.
Nish marked the direction on his chart. When he looked back towards the gate, it was gone. Tiaan was too.
‘The end of humanity.’
HE
E
ND
OF VOLUME ONE
VOLUME TWO
T
ETRARCH
continues
T
HE
W
ELL OF
E
CHOES
T
RILOGY
LOSSARY
AMES
(
MAIN CHARACTERS IN ITALICS
)
:
The human species native to Aachan, once conquered and enslaved by a small force of invading Charon (the Hundred). The Aachim are a clever people, great artisans and engineers, but melancholy or prone to arrogance and hubris. Many were brought to Santhenar by Rulke the Charon in search for the Golden Flute. The Aachim flourished on Santhenar, but were later betrayed by Rulke and ruined in the Clysm. They then withdrew from the world to their hidden mountain cities. The ones that remained on Aachan gained their freedom after the Forbidding was broken, when the surviving Charon went back to the void.
:
A battle-scarred sergeant and hero of the wars with the lyrinx.
:
Deceased master crafter of controllers at the manufactory, uncle of Irisis.
:
A lyrinx matriarch (Wise Mother). She is a master of the Art, especially in relation to flying.
:
Matriarch (Wise Mother) of the lyrinx in Kalissin.
:
A former scribe, a prober in secret and a reluctant artificer, generally known as Nish
.
:
Halfwit; an air-moss grower and harmless pervert.
:
A long-lived human species who have passed out of the Histories, though some may still dwell on Santhenar.
:
A pregnant artisan in the manufactory.
:
A mancer. Ullii spent years in his dungeon.
:
Older sister of Jiini; Haani’s aunt.
:
An irascible miner.
:
The querist at Tiksi. The chief of the municipal intelligence bureau
.
:
Overseer of the manufactory.
:
A lazy sweeper boy.
An angry foreman at the manufactory. He has a nigah habit.
:
A girl of eight living near Lake Kalissi with her mother and aunts.
:
Vithis’s clan of Aachim, first of the Eleven Clans.
:
A senior artisan at the manufactory; niece of Barkus.
:
The perquisitor (provincial inquisitor) for Einunar; Nish’s father.
:
Haani’s mother.
:
An old miner, adept at finding crystal. Tiaan’s friend.
:
An overly emotional clanker operator.
:
The day guard at the crystal mine.
A lyrinx with unarmoured skin and no chameleon ability; a talented flesh-former.
:
A conciliatory Aachim clan leader.
:
Massive winged humanoids who came out of the void to Santhenar after the Forbidding was broken. Highly intelligent, they are able to use the Secret Art, most commonly for keeping their heavy bodies aloft. They have armoured skin and a chameleon-like ability to change their colours and patterns, often used for communication (skin speech). Some lyrinx are also flesh-formers; they can change small organisms into desired forms using the Secret Art. In the void they used a similar ability to pattern their unborn young so as to survive in that harsh environment. As a consequence they are not entirely comfortable in their powerful but much changed bodies.
:
Jiini’s younger sister; Haani’s aunt.
Tiaan’s mother, a prize breeder of children.
:
The woman in charge of the breeding factory at Tiksi.
A young Aachim man of high stature; foster-son of Vithis. Tiaan’s dream lover.
:
The renowned mechanician; in charge of balloon construction.
:
The apothek at the manufactory.
:
A legendary, bare-breasted heroine of revolutionary times.
:
A drug used by the army under extreme conditions to combat cold and fatigue. Also has medicinal uses as it induces lassitude, somnolence and indifference to pain. Made from the leaf of the nigah bush, it stains the gums yellow.
:
Cryl-Nish’s hated nickname, means ‘pipsqueak’. (Even worse: Nish-Nash.)
:
Doorman at the manufactory.
:
A vicious and malicious creature created by Ryll and Liett’s flesh-forming
.
:
The shooter on Ky-Ara’s clanker.
:
The shooter on Simmo’s clanker.
:
An examiner; formidable mother of Nish.
:
A red-haired sergeant. An expert climber with a profound hatred of lyrinx.
:
The old, blind healer at the manufactory.
:
An ostracised wingless lyrinx; a talented flesh-former
.
:
One who can sense use of the Secret Art, or people who have that talent, or even enchanted objects. Ullii is one.
:
A clanker operator.
:
A soldier who travels with Nish in the balloon.
:
A young artisan; a visual thinker and talented controller-maker.
:
An Aachim clan leader.
:
The healer at the manufactory; a drunk.
:
A senior artificer at the manufactory.
:
A seeker so hypersensitive that she is unable to go outside, or among people
.
:
Minis’s foster-father; an Aachim from Aachan. The head of Inthis First Clan.
:
The scrutator (spymaster and master inquisitor) for Einunar.
AJOR
A
RTEFACTS AND
F
ORCES
:
An extremely rare
hedron
which, even in its natural state, can draw power from the force (the
field
) surrounding and permeating a node.
:
Human internal combustion due to a mancer or an artisan drawing more power than the body can handle. Invariably fatal (gruesomely).
(also armoped or thumpeter): An armoured mechanical war cart with six, eight or ten legs and an articulated body, driven by the Secret Art via a controller mechanism which is used by a trained operator. Armed with a rock-throwing catapult and a javelard (heavy spear thrower) which are fired by a shooter riding on top. Clankers are made under supervision of a mechanician, artisan and weapons artificer. Emergency power is stored in a pair of heavy spinning flywheels, in case the field is interrupted.
:
A vehicle powered by the Secret Art, based on some of the secrets of Rulke’s legendary vehicle. Unlike Rulke’s, those made by the Aachim cannot fly.
:
A mind-linked mechanical system of many flexible arms which draws power through a
hedron
and feeds it to the drive mechanisms of a
clanker
. A controller is attuned to a particular hedron, and the operator must be trained to use each controller, which takes time. Operators suffer withdrawal if removed from their machines for long periods, and inconsolable grief if their machines are destroyed, although this may be alleviated if the controller survives and can be installed in another clanker.
:
A hallucinatory madness suffered by artisans and clanker operators, brought on by overuse of a
hedron
. Few recover from it. Mancers can suffer from related ailments.
:
The diffuse (or weak) force surrounding and permeating (and presumably generated by) a
node
. It is the source of a mancer’s
power
. Various stronger forces are also known to exist, although no one knows how to tap them safely (see
power
).
:
A branch of the Secret Art that only lyrinx can use. Developed to adapt themselves to the ever-mutable void where they came from, it now involves the slow transformation of a living creature, tailoring it to suit some particular purpose. It is painful for both creature and lyrinx, and can be employed only on small creatures.
:
A portal between one place (or one world) and another, connected by a shifting trans-dimensional ‘wormhole’.
:
The most difficult and powerful of all the Secret Arts. An adept is able to draw upon the forces that move and shape the world. A most dangerous Art to the user.
:
A natural or shaped crystal, formed deep in the earth from fluids that circulate through a natural
node
. Trained artisans can tune a hedron to draw power from the field surrounding a node, via the ethyr. Rutilated quartz, that is, quartz crystal containing dark needles of rutile, is commonly used. The artisan must first ‘wake’ the crystal using his or her
pliance
. Too far from a node, a hedron is unable to draw power and becomes useless. If a hedron is not used for long periods it may have to be rewoken by an artisan, though this can be hazardous.
:
Rare places in the world where the Secret Art works better. Once identified, a
hedron
(or a mancer) can sometimes draw
power
from the node’s
field
through the ethyr, though the amount diminishes with distance, not always regularly. A
clanker
operator must be alert for the loss and ready to draw on another node, if available. The field can be drained, in which case the node may not be usable for years, or even centuries. Mancers have long sought the secret of drawing on the far greater power of a node itself, but so far it has eluded them (or maybe those that succeeded did not live to tell about it).
There are also anti-nodes where the Art does not work at all, or is dangerously disrupted. Nodes and anti-nodes are frequently (though not always) associated with natural features or forces such as mountains, faults or hot spots.
:
A device which enables an artisan to see the
field
and tune a
controller
to it.
:
Tiaan’s name for the device she makes in Tirthrax to open the gate (see
zyxibule
).
:
A mancer of old, Nunar, codified the laws of mancing, noting how limited it was, mainly because of lack of power. She recognised that mancing was held back because:
- Power came from diffuse and poorly understood sources.
- It all went through the mancer first, causing aftersickness that grew greater the more powerful the source was. Eventually power, or aftersickness, would kill the mancer.
- The traditional way around this was to charge up an artefact (mirror, ring, whatever) with power over a long time, and to simply trigger it when needed. This had some advantages, though objects could be hard to control or become corrupted, and once discharged were essentially useless.
- Yet some of the ancients had used devices that held a charge, or perhaps replenished themselves. No one knew how, but it had to be so, else how could they maintain their power for hundreds if not thousands of years (for example, the Mirror of Aachan), or use quite prodigious amounts of power without becoming exhausted (Rulke’s legendary construct) ?
