"Alchymist" - читать интересную книгу автора (Irvine Ian)

Nine

They ran until they could run no further, when Irisis realised that only Myrum was behind her. Ivar had fallen back and been killed without their even knowing it. Irisis brushed a tear from one eye. He had been just a boy doing his duty.

Myrum was scarlet in the face and labouring under his pack. 'I'd chuck that away, if I were you,' said Irisis.

'I can manage it,' he gasped. 'It's needed. We seem to have lost them.'

Iris doubted that. 'We must have run leagues, Fyn-Mah. Are you sure you're going the right way?'

The perquisitor avoided her eye, staring down the three passages ahead.

'In a straight line,' Irisis went on, 'we'd have gone right across Snizort and out the other side by now.'

Fyn-Mah checked the small object in her hand. 'We go right.'

'You're not leading us out at all!' Irisis said furiously. 'You're taking us further in.'

The perquisitor moved into the right-hand tunnel. 'We had to take the long way round,' she said unconvincingly. 'There's fire in a central core of tunnels surrounding the Great Seep.'

Irisis followed, keeping a careful watch over her shoulder. As she passed what seemed no more than a dark niche in the wall, something slipped out beside them. With a yelp she leapt out of the way, for it looked like a little wingless lyrinx. She had her sword out when it said, in Eiryn Muss's voice, 'This way!'

The disguise was a brilliant one — it might even have fooled a lyrinx, from a distance. Muss was truly a master. How did he create such wonders from the small pack on his back?

'I've found it; he said to Fyn-.Mah. 'The tunnel collapsed and they must've thought it was buried too deep to recover.' He still had that frustrated look 'What's still here?' said Irisis. What were they up to now?

Muss did not answer, but led them past a T-junction down a tunnel littered with fallen rock. The floor drops sharply, just ahead.'

Several slabs of the tunnel had slid downwards, like slices off the end of a hollow loaf. Irisis made it down the half-span onto the first step, and a similar distance to the second, but the third slab had fallen so far that only a crescent-shaped hole, the size of a section through the side of a beer barrel, connected it to the space they stood in. There were smash marks on its upper lip, presumably where the lyrinx had tried to break in.

Irisis hesitated. It would be a tight squeeze. 'If we're halfway through and it slips again, it'll cut us in half.'

'I've been down there,' said Muss. 'It's as safe as anywhere in Snizort.'

'That's comforting!'

Flangers squeezed through head-first, grunting with the effort, his feet waving in the air. Abruptly he cried out and his legs whipped through. Fyn-Mah pulled back, snatching out her knife. Irisis drew her sword — not that it would be much use in such a confined space.

'You damn fool, Muss!' cried an enraged Flangers, following that with a stream of oaths Irisis had never heard before. 'Why didn't you tell me the drop was a span and a half? I nearly broke my neck.'

'I got down it without any trouble,' Muss said indifferently.

'Must be a bloody lizard! Pass me the lantern, Fyn-Mah, and come through carefully. I'll catch you.'

Being small, Fyn-Mah wriggled through without difficulty. Irisis followed. It was a tight fit for her and she felt sure she was going to fell on her head, but Flangers's upstretched hands caught hers and she slid into his arms.

He bore her weight without strain and set her on her feet. Taking up the lantern, he led the way down a series of tunnel slices like thigh-high steps.

'Aren't you going to give Muss a hand?' she said in his ear.

'He can bounce down on his pointy head for all I care.'

'You don't like our prober?'

'There's something a bit off about him; Flangers said out of the corner of his mouth.

Irisis looked back but the spy was already standing at the base of the drop, as if he'd floated down. He brushed past, taking the lantern.

'He's a.strange one,' she said quietly. 'His work is always flawless, but he hasn't a friend in the world, unless you count Flydd. He eats alone, even sleeps alone, if he sleeps at all.'

'Maybe being the perfect spy is all he needs,' said Flangers. 'It's a solitary profession.'

'It's just here!' called Muss. 'Get a move on.'

They crowded into a small, circular chamber whose roof was a perfect dome of sandstone. A squat object like an inverted sombrero stood knee-high on a pedestal in the centre of the room. It had a short brown stalk on which was mounted a yellow frilled brim. It was not alive — it had been created by the lyrinx in one of their patterners.

Fyn-Mah skidded to a stop. 'Myrum, defend the entrance. Muss, check that there's no other way in. Flangers, see if you can get that.'

'There isn't any other way in,' said Muss.

'What is it?' said Flangers.

'It's called a phynadr,' said Fyn-Mah. 'The enemy make them in all shapes and sizes, to draw power from the field. We're taking it back so we can see how it works.'

'The lyrinx tried to break in for it,' said Flangers, 'so it's likely they'll be waiting when we crawl out.'

'Then it it'll be time for you to do your duty, soldier/ said the perquisitor.

Flangers took hold of the object, which slipped through his fingers. 'Can't get a grip on it,' he muttered.

Irisis touched it with her fingers. The phynadr was superficially similar to the torgnadr, or node-drainer, she'd helped Flydd to destroy, though it had been leathery. This phynadr was soft, compressing under her touch but springing back into shape when she let it go.

Flangers put his arms around it and heaved, but his arms slid off. To their right, Fyn-Mah was sketching shapes in the air. Whatever magic it was, Irisis prayed that it would work quickly. She threw a glance over her shoulder.

Flangers whipped out his sword. 'Don't damage it,' yelled Fyn-Mah.

He slid the point of his sword under the flat base of the phynadr. The edges, tinged purple, seemed to recoil from the metal, revealing a white underside. Flangers pushed the sword all the way, levered, and the phynadr popped off, emitting a musky, molasses-sweet odour.

Irisis caught it as it toppled. It was rather heavier than it looked. The phynadr bent in the middle and the base pulled itself down hard, trying to reattach to the pedestal, but Flangers kept the blade underneath. Yellow jelly oozed from beneath the cap. Fyn-Mah pushed Irisis out of the way, drew a black bag over the phynadr and swiftly tied the top. Throwing it over her shoulder, she staggered under the weight, recovered and hurried back to the collapsed section.

'I'll go first,' she said at the vertical wall.

Flangers boosted her up. 'Keep a sharp lookout.'

'Don't worry.' She crawled through. 'It's safe.'

'It would be,' said Irisis. "They want the phynadr more than us, so they'll be waiting around the corner.'

Flangers boosted Myrum, then Irisis. Muss gave Flangers a leg-up. 'Need a hand?' Flangers said.

'I'll be right; said Muss.

'Come on!' Fyn-Mah called. 'It's not far now.'

A lyrinx roared near the T-junction. Myrum shouted a battle cry and ran for it. His sword clacked against a skin plate, something whistled through the air, then he was back-pedalling, attempting to defend himself against two lyrinx at once.

He cursed, slipping to one knee. Irisis was sure he was done for, but the old soldier sprang forward, fast and low, his sword sliding neatly between the belly plates of the leading lyrinx. It sagged to the left, crashing into the other beast, and they went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The soldier dispatched the second with a sword tip to the jugular.

'We go right,' said Fyn-Mah, leading the way with the bag slung over her shoulder.

'That was a neat piece of sword work.' Irisis said to Myrum.

'Just luck,' replied Myrum. 'I was sure I was dead.'

'Dare say you will be before we get out of here.'

'Dare say we both will.'

The tunnel now headed steeply down. It was dark, but the way ahead was illuminated by a reddish glow coming from Fyn-Mah's fist. The other crystal, presumably.

It was hard work running down the steep slope. Halfway to the bottom they passed from stone into solid tar. It was so sticky underfoot that with every step they were in danger of toppling. Myrum looked exhausted, Fyn-Mah was staggering under the weight of the bag, and Flangers winced with every step. The scabbed gouges across his buttocks were bleeding. Muss had disappeared again.

'Should we wait for the prober?' asked Irisis.

'He can take care of himself,' said Fyn-Mah, moving the bag onto her other shoulder.

'Do you want me to carry that?' Irisis offered.

Fyn-Mah shook her head.

They were still heading down steeply and the air was smoky. 'How far now?' said Irisis, worrying that Flangers would break down. She felt sure Fyn-Mah would leave him behind.

Fyn-Mah did not answer, which was worrying. They swung around a corkscrewing left-hand bend together and the floor, roof and walls disappeared. Irisis threw herself to the floor on the very brink of a chasm. Flangers landed on top of her. FynMah held up her light. The details slowly emerged from featureless black.

A crevasse cut across their path. The solid tar, or rather brittle pitch as it was here, had recently been torn apart by some great force, leaving a gap of about eight spans to the other side of the tunnel. The tar wall was a sheer face of pitch, as smooth and curved as fractured glass, apart from shards that hung down, or stuck up, here and there. The bottom could not be distinguished, though it must have been a long way below them. The crevasse extended beyond sight to left and right.

The gap had been rudely bridged by an upside-down arch of pitch, a solid, smooth black curve half a span thick but no wider than Irisis's hips. Lyrinx footprints tracked across it.

'What the hell has happened here?' said Flangers, picking himself up and rubbing his backside. His fingertips came up bloody.

'The exploding node must've wrenched the ground apart,' said Fyn-Mah.

'Or the Great Seep has drawn back into the earth,' Irisis muttered, 'cracking away the solid pitch around its edges. This bridge hasn't been here long.'

'And we could run into more lyrinx at any time.' Fyn-Mah edged out onto the span, holding up her glowing crystal.

Even as she spoke, a shadow appeared from the opening on the other side. An enormous male lyrinx spread its wings and opened its bucket-sized mouth in a grin of triumph.

Behind them, Myrurn's sword scraped as he drew it from the scabbard. Irisis looked over her shoulder. A lyrinx, no, two, were coming the other way. They were trapped.

'Let me go first,' said Flangers, drawing his sword. 'That's what I'm here for.'

'Stay back!' Fyn-Mah had one hand in her pocket. She gave Irisis a sideways glance, as if to say, Do you now question my judgment? 'When I give the word, cover your eyes.' She crept a little further along the bridge, which curved down then up, like a suspended rope.

The lyrinx stood at the other end, its eyes glittering in the light from the perquisitor's crystal. It had something in its left hand. Irisis could not see what, but her heart began to thump. This was no ordinary lyrinx. She could sense the power; the intensity. Many lyrinx had a talent for the Secret Art, though few used it for anything but flying. This creature was different. She sensed that it was a mancer every bit as powerful as the great human or Aachim mages, and the device in its hand felt potent.

Myrum sang out, 'Might need a bit of help, Crafter.'

She whirled. A pair of lyrinx were advancing from the tunnel, side by side. Drawing her sword, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Myrum. From the corner of her eye she could see Fyn-Mah on the bridge, only waist high to the mancer-lyrinx.

It let out a deep, roaring bellow that echoed strangely off the hard walls. The left hand slid out, palm upwards. Irisis felt a hot glow on her cheek, had the sense of an invisible cloud roiling outwards, and the floor softened under her. She instinctively lifted one foot, but when she put it down again, the surface had already hardened. The other foot did not move. She was stuck, like a fly to tar paper.

She jerked as hard as she could. It jarred the muscles of her leg but her boot remained firmly embedded in pitch. The two lyrinx were also stuck, though they probably had the strength to pull free.

Myrum cursed and began to hack at the pitch with his sword. She did the same, trying to watch the bridge and the enemy at the same time. Flangers, being closer to the source, was more deeply embedded, while Fyn-Mah was buried to the ankles. Lacking a sword, she had no way of freeing herself.

Flangers hacked the laces off his boots and pulled his feet out. Tearing off his socks, he ran out onto the bridge.

'Go back,' cried Fyn-Mah. 'You can't save me.'

'Then I'll die trying.' He hammered the brittle pitch around her boots with the point of his sword, sending chips flying everywhere.

'Take this and go! It's more important than I am.' She heaved the heavy bag to him.

He lashed it to his belt but kept hacking, the bag banging against his calves as he worked. There's nowhere to go, Perquisitor.'

'Take it!' she roared. ‘It's an order, soldier.’

It was too late. The mancer-lyrinx was edging towards them, moving tentatively as if unsure whether the bridge would hold its weight. This small chasm was a dangerous place in which to fly, if it had to.

'Now would be a really good time to use whatever you were keeping for an emergency,' yelled Irisis, still prising at the pitch that held her boot fast.

Fyn-Mah just stood there, one hand holding up the glowing crystal.

Why didn't the mancer-lyrinx blast them? Irisis prised away. Her boot came free, along with a lump of pitch resembling a club foot. She smashed it off. Did the creature want to take them alive? That didn't make sense, since the other lyrinx had tried so hard to kill them. It had to be the phynadr.

The lyrinx edged closer, the bridge shivering under its weight. The beast gestured towards the bag. Irisis could see the knots in Fyn-Mah's jawline. She was terrified but defiant, and Irisis could not but admire her for it.

Behind Irisis there came a roar as one of the lyrinx freed itself and leapt, its foot trailing blood. Myrum, who was still stuck, slashed wildly at it. The lyrinx landed hard on the torn foot, lurched sideways but recovered to beat through Myrum's defences. Throwing its arms around him, it squeezed him against its chest plates. Ribs cracked as Myrum fell backwards, carrying it with him. The great mouth darted at the soldier's head. It reminded Irisis of the time she had been held beneath one of the lyrinx, and only Flydd's heroism had saved her.

She swung her sword against the back of the creature's armoured skull with every ounce of her strength. The armour cracked and the lyrinx's head was driven into the floor. It did not move, though the blow could only have stunned it.

Finding a gap between the skin plates of its side, she drove her sword through the ribs.

It took all her strength, and all of Myrum's, to get him out from under the fallen creature. He was so battered and bruised he could not stand up. The second lyrinx was still nving to free its feet from the pitch. She hacked Myrum's boots out.

On the bridge, the mancer-lyrinx was almost within reach of Fyn-Mah. The bridge shuddered. The creature reached out for her. Her eyes fixed on it. Fyn-Mah tossed the crystal towards the roof of the chasm and yelled, 'Cover your eyes!'

Irisis, watching the crystal arc up into the darkness, screwed her eyes shut. The explosion of light burned her eyelids and sent blood-red pulses through her brain. She opened her eyes, dazed and dazzled, to see the mancer-lyrinx topple head-first off the bridge. Its wings spread as it hurtled downwards, but they were insufficient to support it without the aid of the Art, and the exploding crystal had filled the ethyr with echoes, preventing it from drawing on a distant field. Only devices that stored power, like Fyn-Mah's crystals, could work here, and once that power had been used they were useless.

The bridge softened and began to droop beneath Fyn-Mah's feet. She pulled one foot from its boot and heaved at the other. Flangers scrambled down the curve to her.

'Go back,' she screamed. 'Save the phynadr.’

Fyn-Mah was going to do her duty to the bitter end. You're a better woman than I'll ever be, Irisis thought.

The curve of the bridge steepened and thinned like molasses sagging between two spoons. Soon it must break, plunging Fyn-Mah into the abyss. Flangers kept moving towards her as the stretching strand of pitch pulled her away but, as he grasped her outstretched hand, the bridge snapped. Fyn-Mah fell, pulling Flangers with her. He threw his other arm around the pitch. They swung on the end of the still lengthening ribbon, then disappeared into the darkness. Irisis heard a thud as they struck the side of the chasm, a muffled cry, then nothing. Darkness, utter and complete, swallowed the world.

'Don't suppose you've got a flint striker in your pocket.' Myrum's voice came from not far away.

She felt it out and snapped it a couple of times so he could see the sparks. 'Here. What's happened to the other lyrinx.'

'Was still stuck, last I saw.' He in a lantern. The creature lay on the floor, one foot at a strange angle as if it had broken its ankle. Its hands were pressed against its eye-sockets, its face covered in red-stained tears. 'Burned its eyes, I'd reckon. They don't like bright light.' He put his sword to the defenceless creature's throat.

Irisis turned away. It had to be done but she did not have to see it. 'Bring the lantern when you're finished. We'll have to recover the phynadr, and the little beast if we can, though I don't see how we're going to get out again.'

'I can smell fresh air,' said Myrum shortly. 'It must be coming from the other side.'

'No use if we can't get to it. Got any rope in that pack of yours?'

'As it happens, I have.' He produced a hank of thick cord, knotted one end around his burly torso, and the other around hers. 'Nice chest you've got here, Irisis.'

'This is as close as you 're ever getting to it,' she said with a cheerful grin.

He was philosophical. 'Ah well. I still have my dreams.'

'I hope you live to have many more.'

'What if you go down on the rope, and I hold you?'

'I'm heavier than I look.'

He eyed her up and down. 'Even so.'

All right, but keep your thoughts on the rope.'

His gummy smile widened. 'Don't know as how you can dictate terms when I'm holding you up.'

Myrum lowered her over the edge, which turned out to be an overhang. Irisis held the lantern out in her right hand, though its smoky yellow glow barely penetrated the blackness. Heat wafted up past her and, as she swung back and forth, she caught a glimpse of something glowing in a crack, a long way down. It looked like lava, but wasn't. The tar was on fire and it would burn wickedly if she ended up anywhere near it.

Recalling that thud, she directed the lantern light along the nearer side of the crevasse. Here the wall consisted of a series of sheer miniature cliffs, broken by narrow platforms topped with jagged spires of pitch, some as sharp as broken glass. Irisis cringed at the thought of crashing into them.

It was hard to see, for the black surfaces reflected only an occasional glitter. Unable to get close enough to the wall because of the overhang, she began to swing back and forth on the rope.

'You all right?' called Myrum.

'Yes. Can't see much, though. Lower me down a few spans. Oh, and Myrum?'

'Yes?'

'Keep a sharp lookout behind you.'

He snorted. 'You've got the bloody lantern!'

'There should be another one.'

Her swing was now long enough to reach one of the spikes. She caught hold of it low down, where it was not so sharp, and pulled herself into a space between a cluster of spires.

'I'm standing!' she called, so he would not worry about the weight going off the rope. 'Let out a bit more.'

'Good-oh!'

Irisis edged as far as she could to her left, until she was brought up by a sheer drop that went all the way down to the fiery crack. If Fyn-Mah and Flangers had fallen that far, they were lost. She crept the other way, between spines, shards and spears of frozen pitch. Ahead, the surface formed an irregular series of steps, some almost as tall as she was. Holding out the lantern, she peered down.

Nothing that way either. She looked over the outer edge. A ribbon of solidified pitch was looped around one of the spires further down. It had to be from the bridge but she could not see anyone. Below her the crevasse wall curved out into another spike-studded mound, this one about fifteen paces by ten. Its edges fell away on three sides while the fourth was the sheer, unclimbable wall Irisis leaned out, the lantern tilted, and a few drops of hot oil spilled. From below she heard a faint groan.

'Fyn-Mah? Flang-‘

No answer. 'I've found something,' she called up to Myrum. 'Lower me down a few spans, carefully.'

'Not much rope left,' he yelled.

'Give me all you have.'

She went down, swinging back and forth, pushing herself away from the razor shards with her feet. Several spikes broke off. How secure was any of this? The least shock might crumble the lot and send it into the abyss.

There was no rope left when her boots grounded on a shelf at the edge of the spiky mound and, in the light of the lantern, she saw Fyn-Mah wedged between two spires with her head at a strange angle. It looked as if she'd broken her neck.

'Fyn-Mah?' Irisis touched the perquisitor on the cheek.

The small woman's eyes opened, moving all the way up the crafter's elongated form to the rope around her chest. She moved her head back to the vertical. 'Didn't expect to see you,' she said in a faint, slurred voice.

'I came for the phynadr,' said Irisis coolly. 'To do my duty, of course.'

"Course,' Fyn-Mah echoed. 'Help me up. Stuck.' She tried to lift an arm but it flopped down.

'I thought your neck was broken.' Irisis held the lantern close. One pupil was larger than the other, which meant she had concussion.

'You'd be happy then.'

'I don't hate you —’ Irisis began.

"Nother time, Crafter!' The last word trailed out and Fyn-Mah looked confused. 'Head hurts.'

Putting down the lantern, Irisis lifted the perquisitor to her feet. Her legs buckled. 'Where's Flangers?' said Irisis, holding her with one arm.

'Who?"

Irisis untied the rope, steadied the perquisitor and began knotting it around her chest.

'What — doing?' said Fyn-Mah, her voice slow and slurring more than before.

'Getting you out.'

Irisis checked the knots, then shouted up, 'Myrum! Fyn-Mah's alive. You're pulling her up now. Ready?'

'Ready.' The rope tightened and Fyn-Mah rose in the air, flopping like a rag doll. Her head went back to that unpleasant angle.

Irisis turned away, weaving through the razor-edged blades and spires. Shards crunched underfoot. 'Flangers?'

He lay at the rear of the mound, among a pile of shattered spikes, unconscious. There was a lump on the back of his head where he'd hit the floor, but that wasn't the worst injury. A long blade of pitch had gone through the outer side of his right thigh, sliding beside the bone almost all the way through before it broke off. There was a lot of blood, but not as much as if an artery had been severed. Flangers would live, though the wound was so wide and deep Irisis could have put three fingers into it. It would be a miracle if it did not become infected.

An even bigger miracle if she could get him across to the edge of the mound to the rope. Even if she could, she would have to stand him up while she tied the rope on. It wasn't long enough to reach to the floor.

She shook Flangers, gently, but he did not rouse. He must have taken a heavy blow. His breathing was steady, though, and his pupils not dilated, so he should recover. More importantly, the bag containing the phynadr was still tied to his belt. She felt it. It did not seem to be damaged. What about the little flesh-formed creature?

She went through his pockets, one by one. The creature was dead — he must have landed on it. She tossed it aside. They'd risked their lives, and five soldiers had lost theirs, for nothing.

Irisis lifted Flangers to a sitting position, regretting that she'd sent Fyn-Mah up first. Flangers was heavier than he appeared. It would be hard to get him as far as the rope.

Slapping him gently on the cheek, she called out, 'Flangers?'

He made no sound. She slapped a little harder and again he gave a muffled moan, deep in his throat. She eyed the wound. Perhaps if she hurt him . . , Irisis cut off the ragged trouser leg and tore it into strips, which she laid beside him. She wiggled the shard in the wound. He groaned. It was tapered and should come out easily. Taking hold of it, she pulled firmly and it slipped free. The wound began to bleed profusely. She put two fingers in, feeling around for broken pieces, and drew a sliver of pitch out. There did not seem to be any other large fragments.

Flangers groaned and opened his eyes. 'Bloody hell're yer doin'?' he slurred. 'Get yer hand outta me leg.' A comical expression crossed his face, as if he had just realised what a stupid thing he'd said, and his eyes closed.

There came a faint, fluttering sound from out in the abyss. Irisis held up the lantern, but saw nothing. It must have been the rope scraping across the cliff face.

Lacking anything to sew him up with, she bound Flangers's leg with strips of cloth until the wound closed and the blood flow dropped to a trickle. Irisis tied another pad across the top.

'Flangers!' she said urgently. 'You've got to stand up.'

He didn't open his eyes. 'Can't.'

'It's your soldier's duty, Flangers.'

The soldier wept with pain as he struggled to get to his feet. Irisis crouched and gave him her shoulder, heaving him up with one arm around his muscled waist. They staggered between the spikes to the edge, swaying while she waved the lantern around, looking for the rope. It wasn't there.

'Myrum?' Her voice echoed shrilly.

There was a long pause before he answered. 'Yes?'

'I've got Flangers. He's badly injured. Where's the bloody rope?'

'It's coming. I've . . , had a few problems up here.'

Again that fluttering sound, a whispering echo back and forth in the crevasse. Sympathetic shudders fluttered down her spine.

'Hurry it up. I've got a nasty feeling about this place.'

The end appeared, wriggling like a brown snake in the lamplight. Setting down the lantern, Irisis pulled the rope as far as it would go and looped it around the soldier's chest. Flangers was just clinging to consciousness. His fingers dug into her shoulders and his knees flexed as he swayed, but the rest of him had shut down.

It was hard work tying a secure knot with his weight on her, but she managed it at last. "It's done. Pull him up!'

The rope went taut. 'He's a heavy sod!' Myrum's voice echoed down.

Get Fyn-Mah to help you.'

'She's passed out.'

The fluttering sounded again, closer, followed by a scraping sound like a fingernail on rock. Or a claw.

'Hurry up,' she shouted, unable to keep the fear out of her voice. 'That lyrinx is still alive.'

Flangers jerked up, stopped, jerked again. Blood running down his leg began to drip off the toe of his boot. She watched him pass through the circle of light, then directed the lantern around and below her, trying to pick the creature out. Maybe it wasn't the lyrinx. Worse creatures dwelt in the abysses of the world, creeping about their unknown and unpleasant business. All sorts of beasts had made their way to Santhenar when the Way between the Worlds was open, and at other times in the mythical past. Not all of them wanted to wage war, as the lyrinx did. But if they were disturbed, if they felt threatened …