The Destiny of the Dead (The Song of the Tears Book 3) (85 page)

Flydd squatted down beside him. ‘It’s a long walk back to
Morrelune, comrade.’

‘Too long for me,’ said Klarm. ‘I’m sorry, Xervish, I really
am. Sorry for everything. Do you think you can find it in yourself to forgive
all I’ve done?’

‘

Flydd studied him coolly. ‘You’re not planning to die on me,
are you?’

‘Isn’t that the only form of atonement you’ll accept?’

‘You stupid old fool!’ Flydd exclaimed. ‘What makes you
think I want you to die?’

‘I’ve never known you as a forgiving man.’

‘People change. All right! I forgive you, you stupid bastard
– as long as you never mention it again.’

Klarm smiled faintly, the pain lines relaxed and he let out
a little sigh. Maelys thought he had died, but he opened his eyes again.

‘I don’t suppose, if I loaned you my knoblaggie, you could
–?’

‘You’re going to lend
me
your precious, precious knoblaggie?’ cried Flydd in astonishment.

‘Just to make a portal or two. Don’t get any ideas, you
devious old sod.’

‘But if you were to die while I still had it,’ said Flydd
with a cunning leer, ‘it would be mine, wouldn’t it?’

‘You’ve always lusted after it, you greedy swine,’ said
Klarm, ‘but you’re not going to get it.’

‘I don’t see how you can stop me, if you’re –’

‘
Dead!
’ said
Klarm. ‘I’m not going to die, no matter how much I want to. I’m going to
outlive you, just to spite you. Now take the damn thing and get us out of
here.’

Grinning, Flydd made a portal, and they returned to
Morrelune, where the army was ready to depart for Fadd. The healers attended to
Klarm, and managed to relieve his aftersickness and some of the pain of his
severed foot, after which everyone prepared to leave for their separate
destinations.

Maelys stood some distance away, an enormous lump in her
throat. One part of her just wanted to go home, but the rest couldn’t bear the
parting –

‘It’s farewell, then,’ said Flydd, ‘and for some of us it
must be for the last time. I doubt that we’ll ever all be together again.’ He
shook Yggur’s hand.

‘I don’t expect I will,’ said Yggur with a weary sigh. ‘I
haven’t many years left.’

‘Nor I,’ said Malien, ‘and I plan to spend them on Aachan.
Now that we have a world to go back to, and the
field
gives us the power to do so, many of my people will join me,
and I don’t plan to return to Santhenar.’

‘All things must pass,’ said Flydd. ‘And all people too,
even the oldest of friends. I’ll miss every one of you.’ His eye caught the
dwarf’s and he said, ‘Even you, runt!’

‘I’ll miss you equally little, scarface!’

Flydd shook hands with Klarm, each trying to crush the
other’s hand, then they both laughed.

Flydd embraced Malien and turned to Yggur. ‘There’s a
certain irony in Maigraith so desperately hunting those few people with Charon
blood for her breeding program, and yet she rejected you, her half-Charon first
lover.’

‘I’m glad I’ve found my true heritage at last,’ said Yggur,
carefully putting his bandaged arm around Tulitine’s waist. ‘And equally glad
that I’m powerless now. She would no longer want me, any more than I would have
her back.’

‘Before you go,’ said Maelys, ‘can anyone explain to me why
I didn’t appear in any of the futures we saw in the Pit of Possibilities? I always
thought it meant I was going to die.’

‘It must have been the taphloid,’ said Yggur, ‘hiding you
from your enemies, just as Kandor had set it to conceal me from mine. I’m glad
you have it, Maelys, and long may it look after you and yours.’

Maelys suspected that its power had gone when the hidden
bottle of pure fire had been removed, yet the taphloid would always be a
comfort to her. She was embracing him when she felt the little parcel,
Yalkara’s gift, in her pocket, and drew it out.

‘I wonder what this is?’ The wrapping was pitted and
charred. ‘I hope it’s still all right.’

Inside she found a small rectangular metal mirror, highly
polished, with glyphs arranged around all four sides and a symbol in the top
right corner.

‘It’s the Mirror of Aachan!’ Malien exclaimed. ‘Where did
you get it?’

‘Yalkara gave it to me, for the baby.’

‘I’m astonished! I don’t think you should keep it – it
was a terrible, corrupting device –’

‘She said it had been cleansed of the past by the pure
fire,’ said Maelys.

‘Yalkara took it to the void with her at the end of the Time
of the Mirror,’ said Yggur. ‘I wonder why she kept it?’

‘Why does anyone keep keepsakes?’ said Malien. ‘To remind
them of happier times, I suppose.’

They said their last goodbyes and Flydd created a final
portal with the knoblaggie. The lyrinx came marching up, then Ryll stooped and
embraced them one by one. Maelys, remembering all the tales she’d read about
lyrinx when she was young, found his hug alarming, though she thought she’d
managed to conceal it.

‘Someday, when things are better,’ Ryll rumbled, ‘I would
have you come to Tallallame. I would like everyone to see what we’ve made of
our new world, and Liett would have wanted that too.’

His eyes grew wet at the memories, then he sketched a
farewell and went through the portal without looking back.

Flydd diverted the portal north to Faranda for the Aachim,
to Shazmak for Malien, Yrael and the surviving Aachim of Clan Elienor, then
finally to the south for Tiaan, the Whelm and the Faellem.

The portal closed for the last time, and faded away.
Flangers and Chissmoul shook everyone’s hands.

‘Well, General Flangers,’ said Flydd, ‘until we meet again.’

‘Not so much of the general, if you please,’ said Flangers.
‘I’ve only taken the command because someone had to, and once I’ve trained some
officers up, I’m leaving the army.’

‘But you’ve been a soldier all your life,’ said Flydd, taken
aback. ‘It’s a bit late to change now.’

‘If Nish can change, so can I. Besides, now that the field
is back …’ Flangers looked fondly at Chissmoul.

‘What?’ said Flydd.

‘We thought we might go into the business of flight,’ she
said, grinning broadly and rubbing the scar where her ear had been. ‘And if
monopolies are being handed out to the unworthy, I don’t see why I shouldn’t
have one too.’

‘Be off with you,’ said Flydd, laughing, and they waved and
turned away to the army.

Tulitine helped Yggur to climb aboard
Three Reckless Old Ladies
. Flydd, Persia and Lilis followed them,
and finally Klarm was helped up. He sat on the side, clinging to a rope and
looking wan. Eight of Nish’s militia were already aboard, going home to
Gendrigore at last, yet there was no sign of Clech or Aimee.

‘Where the blazes are they?’ muttered Flydd.

‘I said if they weren’t here by ten I was going without them,’
said Yulla, and gestured to M’lainte, who was at the helm.

‘Aren’t you forgetting something, Flydd?’ said Klarm coldly.

‘What?’ said Flydd.

‘My knoblaggie, you larcenous scoundrel. Hand it over.’

Flydd pretended he did not know what Klarm was talking
about, then patted his pockets and reluctantly brought it out. ‘How did that
get there? Sorry. Must have slipped my mind.’

‘I’ll bet,’ said Klarm, snatching it. ‘Once a thieving
scrutator, always a thieving scrutator!’

‘You’d know!’

They were still bickering cheerfully as the sky-galleon
lifted off, circled twice then headed south, for Roros and Gendrigore.

Maelys was left standing among the tables by herself,
dreading what was coming next. Nish was at the other end of the main table,
staring into the pit at the ruins of Morrelune, while Haga and Fyllis were a
little way off, watching the craft dwindling into the northern sky.

‘I suppose you’ll be going to Fadd too,’ she said.

‘Fadd?’ said Nish. ‘Why would I go to that dreadful,
mosquito-ridden hole?’

‘That’s where your army is going.’

‘It’s not my army. Why would I want an army?’

‘You’re the head of the council. You’re a great man now; the
most powerful in all the empire. You’ve got to have an army.’

‘No, I don’t.’

She was staring at him, more confused than ever, when there
came a high-pitched peal of laughter, followed by a deep, good-humoured bellow,
and Clech and Aimee appeared from the Sacred Lake, where evidently they had
been bathing together. They were both drenched; Clech had a huge splatter of mud
in the middle of his chest and Aimee was aiming another mud ball at him.

‘Where have you been?’ said Nish in schoolmasterly tones.
‘You’re behaving like children, and now they’ve gone without you.’

‘We know. We’re going with you,’ said Aimee. ‘Someone’s got
to look after you and keep you out of trouble.’

‘And the leader of the council has to have an honour guard,’
Clech said seriously, scraping the mud off his chest and flicking it at Aimee,
who ducked just in time, then ran back to the lake for more.

Nish scowled at the two dripping figures, Clech the giant
and Aimee like a little bird, barely coming up to his breast-bone, then smiled.
‘And I could never wish for a better honour guard. Well,’ he said to Maelys,
‘it’s over. Let’s go home.’

She couldn’t speak for a minute. What was he talking about?
‘I don’t … I can’t possibly … where is your home, Nish? I don’t think you ever
told me.’

‘My home is wherever you are.’

‘But … w-what? You can’t come with me. You’re the son of the
late God-Emperor; the leader of the council. You can’t live at Nifferlin.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘It’s just a pile of rubble. There are only two rooms left
standing, and one of them has no roof.’

‘Then we’ll live in the one with a roof while we rebuild
Nifferlin Manor, and make it as beautiful as it ever was.’

‘But I’m going to have a baby –
to another man
.’

‘A good, kind and decent man, by all accounts,’ said Nish,
‘and I’m sure I would have liked him. Besides, poor Emberr is dead and his
old human
child needs a father as well
as a mother.’

Maelys couldn’t take it in. She kept searching for reasons
why it wouldn’t work. ‘But … but Aunt Haga is really cranky. You couldn’t
possibly put up with her.’

‘I’m the son of the late God-Emperor,’ grinned Nish, putting
on a pompous voice. ‘And the leader of the council. Not even Aunt Haga would
dare be cranky to me. Besides, she sent you away from Nifferlin to get me,
remember?’

Maelys had the grace to blush. ‘And now I have you,’ she
said softly, extending her hands to him. ‘So she can’t be cross with me,
either. Call your honour guard, Nish, and let’s go home.’

The End of

THE SONG OF THE TEARS

The fate of Karan, Llian and their children

– and other world-shaking perils –

will be told in a future

THREE WORLDS trilogy,

which will appear in 2015

In the meantime,

Ian's TAINTED REALM

epic fantasy trilogy

is available now

The first chapters of Book 1

VENGEANCE

follow

FIRST CHAPTERS OF
VENGEANCE

BOOK 1 OF THE TAINTED
REALM

ONE

‘Matriarch Ady, can I check the Solaces for you?’ said
Wil, staring at the locked basalt door behind her. ‘Can I, please?’

Ady frowned at the quivering, cross-eyed youth, then laid
her scribing tool beside the partly engraved sheet of spelter and flexed her
aching fingers. ‘The Solaces are for the matriarchs’ eyes only. Go and polish
the clangours.’

Wil, who was neither handsome nor clever, knew that Ady only
kept him around because he worked hard. And because, years ago, he had revealed
a gift for
shillilar
, morrow-sight.
Having been robbed of their past, the matriarchs used even their weakest tools
to protect Cython’s future.

Though Wil was so lowly that he might never earn a tattoo,
he desperately wanted to be special, to matter. But he had another reason for
wanting to look at the Solaces, one he dared not mention to anyone. A later
shillilar had told him that there was something wrong, something the matriarchs
weren’t telling them. Perhaps – heretical thought – something they
didn’t know.

‘You can see your face in the clangours,’ he said, inflating
his hollow chest. ‘I’ve also fed the fireflies and cleaned out the effluxor
sump. Please can I check the Solaces?’

Ady studied her swollen knuckles, but did not reply.

‘Why are the secret books called Solaces, anyway?’ said Wil.

‘Because they comfort us in our bitter exile.’

‘I heard they order the matriarchs about like naughty
children.’

Ady slapped him, though not as hard as he deserved. ‘How
dare you question the Solaces, idiot youth?’

Being used to blows, Wil merely rubbed his pockmarked cheek.
‘If you’d just let me peek …’

‘We only check for new pages once a month.’

‘But it’s been a month, look,
look
.’ A shiny globule of quicksilver, freshly fallen from the
coiled condenser of the wall clock, was rolling down its inclined planes
towards today’s brazen bucket. ‘Today’s the ninth. You always check the Solaces
on the ninth.’

‘I dare say I’ll get around to it.’

‘How can you bear to wait?’ he said, jumping up and down.

‘At my age, the only thing that excites me is soaking my
aching feet. Besides, it’s three years since the last new page appeared.’

‘The next page could come today. It might be there already.’

Though Wil’s eyes made reading a struggle, he loved books
with a passion that shook his bones. The mere shapes of the letters sent him
into ecstasies, but, ah! What stories the letters made. He had no words to
express how he felt about the stories.