Tetrarch (Well of Echoes) (72 page)

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Authors: Ian Irvine

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction - lcsh

BOOK: Tetrarch (Well of Echoes)
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‘Should they have learned to, they would certainly want us to think they were still incapable. Besides, the lyrinx are adept at finding new ways of doing things.’

‘I still don’t see why it’s such a problem.’

‘The Council must also look to a future when they have won the war and their power may be under challenge. They must protect themselves. That means discovering exactly what you did, then making sure that you can’t teach anyone else.’

She spun around to face him. ‘What?’

‘They’re not planning to let you leave here alive, Irisis, though they’ll wait till I’ve gone to do the deed. They can’t afford to let you live. Keep walking. They may be watching us.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

‘I don’t know that I can do anything. As soon as everything is ready, I’ve got to go. I have no choice in the matter.’

After their escape, and getting her sight back, she had allowed herself to enjoy life from day to day, without thinking about the future. She had thought she was safe, under Flydd’s protection. Poor fool.

‘They’re going to
kill
me?’

‘They may not,’ he said conversationally. ‘You can’t get away. There’s only one path out of here and it’s heavily guarded. They have a need for artisans and you’re one of the best. And they may want to explore your unexpected talent.’

How could he be so casual? ‘They must know that a question mark lies over my abilities. As soon as they discover how I overcame the mancer, they’ll have no further use for me.’

‘Then you must maintain the secret as long as possible.’

‘I’ve already told them everything.’

‘But they haven’t been able to reproduce it, so they’re sure you’re keeping something back. Use it.’

‘Look what they did to you, when you did that.’

He rubbed a scarred arm. ‘Keeping secrets wasn’t my failing. It was probing into
their
secrets.’

She couldn’t take any more. ‘I don’t feel that you’re being very helpful, Xervish! I feel that you’ve abandoned me already.’

‘I’m under orders. I have to go to Gospett without delay.’

‘You’ve disobeyed Council orders before.’

‘If we lose this battle, we lose the west. You mean a lot to me, Irisis, but as I’ve told you many times, if it ever came to a choice between you and the greater good, I would make that choice. Now I’ve been put to it. How can I place you above the fate of the world?’

‘You don’t have to look so pleased about it,’ she said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. They’re watching me every minute of the day, just waiting for me to make one wrong move. Look, Irisis, I’m –’

‘Oh, go away!’ she snapped. ‘Do your precious duty. I always knew you were a true
scrutator
.’

Flydd’s normally expressionless face changed. His eyes narrowed to dark crescents beneath that overhanging brow. ‘And so I am.’ With a mocking bow, he turned swiftly away to the bastion of Nennifer.

Irisis continued along the rim. This was the most extraordinary country she had ever been in. Behind Nennifer the mountains marched in ranks as far as she could see, and they were mighty peaks, far greater than the mountains near the manufactory. There was little snow on their steep flanks, though, and the lower slopes of the mountains were brown, arid smears.

Before her, below the escarpment, lay the vast sunken land of Kalithras – the Desolation Sink. It was bounded all around by escarpments like this one, and many rivers ran into it. None ran out, for the land lay below the level of the distant sea. It was as dry a hell-hole as she had seen.

She sat down near the edge, looking over. Her life had to end sometime. And perhaps Flydd was right: there was always the possibility that they would keep her alive. Nennifer must have thousands of workers. After all, she did have other talents.

Flydd met Irisis at dinner that night. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘They’re spying on me. I can’t do anything for you.’

‘Thanks.’ She took up her bowl and moved to a table on the far side of the room. She thought she saw hurt in his eyes. Too bad. He’d get over it. And her. He was a scrutator after all, a lying, scheming, cheating manipulator who would do anything, and use anyone, to get what he wanted.

Irisis could normally enjoy eating no matter what her mood, and the food at Nennifer was very good, but she soon pushed the bowl away. She could not taste a thing.

Ullii appeared beside her. Irisis had not heard her coming. She never did. The seeker could move like a ghost when she wanted to, which was most of the time.

‘Are you unhappy, Irisis?’ Ullii said softly, insinuating her head under the taller woman’s arm. She liked to get close to her friends and in this awful place, despite the feelings of jealousy that still plagued her, she felt close to Irisis.

Irisis presumed she was forgiven for pressuring Ullii weeks ago. ‘I’m afraid, Ullii. The scrutators won’t let me leave here alive.’

Ullii drew in her breath sharply, then rubbed her cheek along Irisis’s arm. ‘What have you done?’

Irisis explained.

‘Mancer was an evil woman,’ said the seeker.

‘You knew her?’

‘I read her knot in my lattice.’ The tiny hairs on Ullii’s arms stirred.

‘You can tell a person’s character from the way you see them in your lattice?’

‘Of course.’

‘What do you think of the scrutator. Is he evil too?’

Ullii gave her an ambiguous look and moved to a chair across the table. ‘Scrutator was mean to me.’

Presumably she referred to the time Flydd had forced her to find crystals in the mine. Or perhaps when he’d roared at her to bring down the lift. Ullii did not forget an insult, or an injury. She could not strike back but, where she could get away with it, took pleasure in sullen non-cooperation.

‘And Ghorr?’ said Irisis.

‘He is chief scrutator,’ said Ullii, as if that was all there was to say. Perhaps it was.

Irisis was finishing her bowl of tea when Ullii hunched down in the chair with just her eyes showing over the edge of the table. What was it now?

Irisis looked around. The chief scrutator was heading towards her.

‘Scurry away, little mouse,’ he said contemptuously.

Ullii went sideways off the chair and disappeared among the tables.

Irisis looked Ghorr in the eye. She was almost as afraid of him as she had been of Jal-Nish, but she was damned if she was going to show it. ‘Yes?’ she said with an imperious tilt of her chin.

‘You know what I want.’

‘We’ve been through that.’

‘Just tell me how you did it and you can go with Flydd tomorrow.’

‘I may be just an artisan, Scrutator Ghorr, but I’m no fool. I know I’m not leaving here alive.’

He evinced no surprise. Ghorr seldom showed any reaction, except deliberately. ‘As you wish. But there are more lives on offer than the one you’ve been leading. With a talent like yours, you could become a
mancer
.’ He said it with emphasis, as though it was the pinnacle of everyone’s ambition.

‘I didn’t want to be an artisan,’ she said. ‘Why would I want to be a mancer?’

‘Given the choice between being powerful and powerless, I’m sure you’d make the right decision.’

Irisis knew she should smile and thank him, take what he offered and use it to find a way out for herself. That was the sensible thing. But she just couldn’t. She could not ally with a man, and a system, so manifestly corrupt. He wanted to corrupt her too. Besides, they knew her reputation. She had attacked Perquisitor Jal-Nish, disobeyed his lawful orders, killed his mancer in the pursuit of her duty … Her list of crimes was endless and it was perfectly clear that she opposed all that the Council stood for. It was unlikely that they could corrupt her. The offer was a trap.

‘Or maybe not,’ he said. ‘A pity. It would have been easier that way.’ Ghorr stood up. ‘Come with me, crafter.’

She followed him down the travertine-clad corridor, so long that the other end was just a point. Near the end, he turned into a small, brightly lit room. Each interrogation was held in a different place.

And each ended the same way, with her taunting him and him attacking her with his fists. She was bruised all over, but nowhere visibly. For some reason, Ghorr did not want the Council to know. Irisis would have shown Flydd the marks, had they been on speaking terms.

Afterwards she was taken to another room, several levels down. The door had a simple latch on it, no lock at all.

‘Close,’ said Ghorr once she was inside.

The door clicked shut and she could not open it. Clever. A crafter with her talents could beat most mechanical locks, but not one based on the Art. However it worked, it was different from anything she had experience with. It did not draw power from the field and she could do nothing about it. Perhaps she should have agreed to do what Ghorr wanted, after all.

Some hours later there was a faint tap at the door. ‘Irisis?’

It was the scrutator. He had come for her. ‘Yes?’ she whispered back. ‘How did you find me?’

‘With great difficulty. I had to leave a simulacrum of myself back in my room, and employ … other scrutator magic to get here unseen. I’m not completely sure that it’s worked.’

‘Get me out,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear this place.’

‘What kind of lock is inside?’

‘There is none. Just a simple latch, but it won’t lift.’

‘I was afraid of that. There’s nothing you can remove to open the door?’

‘Not without tools. Everything is tightly fixed.’

‘And even if you did, I suspect the door still would not open.’

‘Ghorr simply said “Close” and went away.’

‘Could be any one of a dozen holding or sealing spells,’ said Flydd.

‘Can’t you break it?’

‘Depending which spell he used, I might be able to. And then again, I might not. Ghorr is a lot older than I am.’

‘He doesn’t look it.’

‘Rejuvenation is a wonderful thing. He’s older, stronger, more powerful …’

‘If all you can do is make excuses you might as well clear out now.’

‘I’m doing my best, crafter,’ he said coldly.

She knew that, but it did not help her mood. Irisis had the urge to destroy what she could not save. ‘It isn’t good enough,
scrutator
.’

He did not answer. All was silent. After a minute or two, she began to fear that he had abandoned her.

‘Xervish?’ she said softly.

Nothing.

‘Xervish, I’m … I’m sorry. I can’t take this.’

‘Just be quiet, will you. I’m trying to work it out.’

‘What?’ she whispered, relief flooding her. Of course he would not abandon her. They were friends and she had saved his life.

‘The holding spell. I think I know what it is.’

‘Can you break it?’

‘I might be able to. There’s a problem, though.’

She waited for him to elaborate. There were some tiny scratchings at the door but nothing else.

‘What problem, Xervish?’

‘If the spell is broken, it sends an alarm to the person who set the spell. To Ghorr.’

‘And you can’t break that?’

‘Not without alerting him.’

‘Then there’s nothing you can do.’

‘I’d say not.’

‘Oh well. You tried.’

‘Not much comfort.’

She wanted him gone. If he could do nothing, there was no point him being here, risking himself. She did not want him hanging around just for her sake. ‘Off you go then.’

‘I –’ He seemed disconcerted. ‘All right. I’ll be on my way.’

‘Goodbye.’ Just go, dammit.

‘I’m sorry, Irisis,’ he said softly.

She did not answer.

It was, unquestionably, the most despairing night of her life. Irisis did not take too well to bondage or helplessness. Ghorr appeared early in the morning. The clicking of the latch woke her. She felt as if she’d just got to sleep.

He entered the room. It
was
a room, not a cell. Ghorr was smiling. ‘I see you had a visitor during the night.’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said coldly.

‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Irisis. I haven’t got to where I am without knowing everything that goes on, both within my domain and without. I can read when Flydd arrived, what he tried to do and when he left again. It’s enough to have him dismissed from the Council and put under a sentence of death.’

‘Then why don’t you?’

‘I’ve work for him to do first. Work I daren’t risk another scrutator on. Come, we must talk some more.’

‘I am happy to talk,’ she said, ‘though I don’t think that is what you have in mind at all.’

‘What I have in mind, Crafter Irisis, is the employment of certain techniques I have developed, to recover the truth from those who have lost it. Or refuse to give it up.’

F
IFTY-TWO

N
ish and Minis spent the best part of a week going through all the spies’ reports and studying maps of the path Tiaan had taken after assaulting the Aachim camp. Subsequently they went out searching in Minis’s construct, with an escort of three others. For another week they slid along the western edge of the vast Worm Wood, investigating sightings, most of which turned out to be hoaxes or natural phenomena. They found nothing, though, because of accidents and breakdowns, Nish learned more than a little about construct artificing. The fields they drew on were weaker than on their home world, and that caused many problems.

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