Alchymist (20 page)

'Left!'
growled Flydd in his ear, 'And make it snappy. Those aren't puppies behind us.'

'I
can't see the path.'

Flydd
muttered an imprecation, pushed past and stood up. Letting out a muffled gasp,
he pressed his hand to his thigh.

Are
you all right?' said Nish.

'I'll
have to be.'

They
zigzagged down a steep decline where dry leaves and gravel slipped underfoot,
over a bank between head-high tangles of berry bushes, and found themselves
under some tall trees. The undergrowth disappeared and the ground became
springy.

Ullii
waited beside a leaning tree. 'The river is straight ahead, Xervish.'

'Can
you swim. Ullii?' Flydd asked.

'No,'
she said with a shudder.

'What
about you, Artificer?"

Nish
started. A long time had passed since anyone had called him by that title. 'I
can, but not very well.'

'Useless
fool!' Flydd said it without rancour. 'The rivers in Taltid aren't deep, or
fast, but you can still drown in them. We have to go into the water or the dogs
will have us. Ullii, come with me. Hang on to my shoulders, not my neck! Don't
make any noise. Nish, you'll just have to do your best. No splashing.'

They
went over the bank and Nish lost sight of them. Occasional shafts of moonlight
touched the water. There came a splash, a faint cry, a curse, then the sound of
paddling.

Nish
followed gingerly. He had never been confident in water. To go into a river
that he could not even see, in pitch darkness, took a deal of courage, though
he'd done it once before and survived. Nish suppressed the embarrassing
memories of the escape from Mira's house. Recollecting that the dogs were not
far behind, and doubtless the overseer with his whip, he pushed forward.

The
bank gave way, dropping him into the river with a mighty splash. Water went
over his head and his foot caught on something — a fallen tree or branch. He
kicked free, came up and looked around. The trees were taller here and the
canopy closed. Not a glimmer of moonshine reached the water.

'Flydd?'

He
could hear nothing over his own splashing and heavy breathing. Being prone to
panic in deep water at the best of times, Nish was not game to stop paddling so
he could listen.

He
moved out into a current, which pulled him downstream. It was eerie. For all he
could tell, the river might have been three spans wide, or a hundred, though
Flydd had said there were no large rivers here.

Nish
was beginning to feel more confident. He moved his arms in gentle circles, scissored
his legs, and discovered he could keep his head above water without too much
effort.

'Flydd?'

There
was no answer. He'd surely go downriver as far as possible, so there would be
more area to search. Nish floated along, calmly now. The water was cool enough
to ease his throbbing wounds; it was the best he'd felt since his slavery
began.

His
feet grated on gravel — a shoal touched by light and moon-shadow. He pushed
around the edge of it, heading for deeper water, then drifted towards the far
bank.

A
hand seized him by the collar. Nish thrashed, went under and water surged up
his nose and down his windpipe. He was dragged choking and gasping onto the
bank. He struck at his assailant, only to receive a blow that drove him into
the mud. A big foot pressed him down; mud filled his mouth and eyes. He clawed
at the bank.

'Don't
move!' said a voice he had never heard before. 'Hoy, Plazzo! I've got one. Told
you they'd come this way. Oh, boy, I can taste the reward money already.'

Someone
grunted. The bushes rustled and footsteps came in their direction.

'Hey!
Any sign of the others, Plazzo?' the fellow continued. 'Ungghr.’

A
body fell into the water, making a loud splash. Nish was hauled up by the arms.

'What
a useless fellow you are,' said Flydd amiably. 'Wipe the mud off your face — you're
giving us a bad name.'

Nish
blew the muck out of his nostrils and followed. 'There's another of them
somewhere.'

'He's
already floating downriver,' Flydd said laconically, tearing leaves into strips
as he walked. It made a zipping sound, like cloth being ripped, and Nish smelt
a pungent odour that resembled mustard oil.

'Where's
Ullii?'

'She's
here. Being quiet!

They
continued on a track winding through scrub. Ullii fell in beside Nish and took
his hand. He made to pull away, knowing how badly he stank, but she clung to
him.

'Where
are we headed?' said Nish, feeling vaguely uncomfortable. The intimacy he'd had
with her months ago at Tirthrax was long gone. Evidently her feelings were
unchanged. He felt, as he had briefly when they'd met in the Aachim camp weeks
ago, that she expected something of him. Nish could not work out what it was,
and was too exhausted to think about it. He could have slept standing up.

'I'll
tell you when we get there.' Flydd was still tearing leaves. Ullii was carrying
them too — Nish could smell them on her.

't' s
the red mustard bush; Flydd said quietly, 'since I know you're going to ask.
Ullii found it for me. Puts dogs off the scent, hopefully.'

'But
not people?'

'I
hardly think so.'

The
sky had clouded over. Judging by an occasional glimpse of the moon, they now
seemed to be heading north. Nish wondered why, but didn't ask.

Long
before daybreak he smelt tar and knew they were passing Snizort again, further
east. Flydd continued north, bypassing the now abandoned command hill, before
turning onto a north-westerly heading across undulating country covered in
crunchy, withered grass.

After
several hours of weary trudging, it began to get light. The cloud had passed
and it would be another clear, hot day. They climbed a rocky mound, not big
enough to be called a hill. Nish sank into the shade afforded by a boulder
shaped like a two-humped buffalo, closed his eyes and began to doze off. Flydd
scanned the scene, keeping to the cover. 'I don't see anyone behind us.'

Nish
grunted. He'd eaten his bread long ago and was so hungry he could have bitten
off his arm.

'Better
fix your boot,' said Flydd. . 'With what?' Nish snapped.

Flydd
tossed him the whip and knife. Nish unbraided several strips of leather, poked
holes in the boot with the tip of the knife and began to weave the strips
through.

Flydd
picked shreds of cloth from around the tear in his left thigh, careful not to
touch it with his dirty hands. The edges looked as though they'd been burned.

'What
happened there?' said Nish.

Flydd
waved the question away.

'Do
you want me to bandage that?'

'Touch
it with those filthy paws and I'm likely to get gangrene.'

Ullii
squatted beside Flydd, staring anxiously at the wound. She was wearing a
tent-like smock made from a piece of green cloth fastened at the throat, and
baggy trousers. She knotted a mask out of a strip torn from the hem of the
smock, and covered her eyes, nose and ears. Horizontal slits over her eyes
allowed her to see, not that she needed to.

'You're
hurting, Xervish, Ullii said, eyes blinking behind the mask as the light grew.

'Somewhat,
Ullii.' Flydd touched her affectionately on the shoulder. 'I'll attend to it as
soon as we find water.’

She
packed surplus cloth into her nostrils and snuggled up to him, which Nish found
extraordinary. Ullii was so wary of people. Gazing up into Flydd's eyes, she
said, 'I forgive you, Xervish.'

Nish
had no idea what she was talking about. Ullii turned to him then, as if
challenging him, and her stare was so intense that he had to look away. What
did she want? More of the intimacy they'd shared at Tirthrax? It felt like half
a lifetime ago and, even though he cared about Ullii, Nish could not turn his
feelings on like a tap.

She
tossed her head, leapt up and stalked into the scrub. 'What was that about?'
said Nish.

Flydd,
bound up in his own troubles, answered the question he thought Nish had asked.
'A long time ago I promised to help find her twin brother, Mylii. They were
separated when she was four and she hasn't heard from him since.'

'You
mentioned him the other day,' said Nish.

'But
I didn't tell you I'd lied to her in Snizort, at the node-drainer. Ullii was
being uncooperative, so I told her Muss had found Mylii and was bringing him
back. Unfortunately, she discovered that I'd lied.'

'Well,
it's all over now.'

'I
hope so,' said Flydd, 'though I've a feeling it isn't. Go and have a look
around, will you?'

Nish
was behind a tree on the other side of the mound when he caught a whiff of
something burning, or at least extremely overheated. It was a-strange smell,
nothing like burning wood or leaves, or flesh of human or lyrinx. The odour was
like roasted rock. He called Flydd over. Ullii came out of the bushes,
scowling.

'What's
that?' Nish said, sniffing.

Unusually,
Ullii answered. 'Iron tears.'

Flydd
gave her a keen glance. The rising sun carved him out in profile, a black
cut-out in a bronze wall. 'You've been here before, haven't you, Ullii?'

She
adjusted her mask over her eyes, moving a little closer to the scrutator. 'Came
with Irisis ages ago, looking for the node-drainer.'

'Is
it the node?' Nish couldn't see anything unusual.

'What's
left of it,' said Flydd. 'Let's take a look, shall we?'

'Shouldn't
we try to get away while we can?'

'I've
got to check something first.' Flydd scanned the landscape. There was nothing
to be seen, though ten thousand soldiers could have hidden in any of the
valleys still in shadow, or behind any of the stone-crowned hills. 'We've time
enough. They haven't found our trail yet. Over there.' He indicated the hill to
their left.

They
wound up the hill, which was no more than a grassy undulation. From the top,
not two hundred paces away, a black hole in the ground emitted wisps of steam.

Ullii
stopped abruptly, her small head darting this way and that.

'What
is it?' said Flydd. 'What do you see, Ullii?'

'A
hole; she said.

'Of
course there's a hole,' Nish muttered.

'Don't
be a fool, boy! Ullii?'

'Hole
in my lattice, Xervish,' said Ullii. 'A pair of holes.'

'A
pair?' said Flydd. 'Are you afraid?'

'No,'
said Ullii. 'They're empty now.'

Flydd's
feet left pale trails in the dewy grass. Nish followed in silence, unable to
make sense of it. Why was Flydd squandering their lead for the exploded remains
of a node?

Shortly
they began to encounter patches of burnt grass, each containing slaggy
aggregations of melted rock which must have been blown out of the hole. The
patches coalesced, the blobs of slag grew larger until the ground was knee-deep
in them. The bigger ones were still hot enough to warm Nish's ankles as he wove
between them.

The
hole formed a perfect oval about forty spans wide by sixty long. Its rim was as
sharp as cheese cut with a knife and crusted with exhalations of red, yellow
and brown sulphur. Within, the land had subsided in a series of concentric oval
rings, like a squashed spyglass. The outside ring, the highest, bore a hide of
withered grass. On the next, the grass had been carbonised in place. The soil
of the remaining rings was burnt bare. The centre of the hole was obscured by
rising steam.

There
were nine of these oval rings, each about the width of a span, the drop to the
next being roughly the same distance. They formed a series of giant steps down
to the centre, though the shimmering air obscured what lay below. The humidity
was choking.

'You're
not planning to go down there?' said Nish, eyeing the hole anxiously.

Flydd
chuckled mirthlessly. 'Indeed we are.'

He
lowered himself onto the first ring and held his arms up. Without hesitation
Ullii slipped into them. Flydd could get her to do things that no one else
could. The pair turned their backs and went to the edge.

Nish
was reluctant to follow but Flydd was not a man for excuses. Going backwards
over the first edge, he felt his chest tighten, his pulse quicken.

Flydd
and Ullii were well below him as Nish climbed down to the next level. The sides
of the oval rings, as smooth as polished stone, resembled a series of pistons
one inside the other. At the ninth ring it was stifling, steamy. Waves of heat
pulsed up from an oval trench five or six spans deep and, when the steam clouds
parted, its base glowed red. Within the trench, a cylinder of rock rose from
the centre, listing to one side. The once-smooth stone walls had run like
toffee.