The Curse on the Chosen (The Song of the Tears Book 2) (52 page)

‘Almost,’ said Flydd, offering Flangers his arm.

Flangers gestured that he would walk alone, so they followed
Chissmoul out. ‘How did you come here, old comrade?’ said Flydd.

‘We ran for a long time, after Jal-Nish took over the world
with his sorcerous tears. The remainder of our fellowship scattered, then met
up again, those who had survived.’

‘And many did not, I imagine.’

‘General Troist was taken first, then killed while trying to
escape. At least, that’s what was said.’

Flydd stopped for a moment, bowing his head, then walked on.
It was another blow. ‘That is very bad news, though not unexpected. Troist was
a good man, and steadfast to the very end. I wonder what became of his family?’

‘I cannot say. Then the dwarf scrutator, Klarm, was taken. I
never knew what happened to him –’

‘We do!’ Flydd said harshly. ‘Klarm went over to the enemy.
He is now a lieutenant of the God-Emperor.’ If he survived the crash of the
sky-palace, which I doubt.'

‘No!’ cried Flangers. ‘Klarm was the bravest man I ever met.
I cannot believe it.’

‘I saw him with my own eyes, just weeks ago. He attacked
us.’

‘How could he betray us?’ Flangers persisted. ‘Klarm wasn’t
that kind of a man.’

‘Our fellowship was long broken, and we were all thought to
be dead. In that situation, a man with a slippery conscience might tell himself
that it wasn’t a betrayal.’

‘An honourable man can always tell the difference between
right and wrong …’ Flangers stopped suddenly, swaying on his feet, and Flydd
knew what was the matter with him. He’d been put in precisely that situation by
Perquisitor Fyn-Mah, forced by her direct order to fire on his superiors in an
air-floater, and that conflict had eaten the heart out of him. ‘But what would
I know?’ he said tiredly. ‘I’m just a man of war.’

‘What about Fyn-Mah?’ said Flydd.

‘Also dead. She was fleeing from the enemy when her horse
was shot from under her. She broke her neck and died instantly.’

‘Ah!’ cried Flydd. He’d never been close to his prickly
subordinate, but they’d worked together for a long time and he’d always admired
her. ‘Malien?’

‘No one ever saw her again after she fled with Tiaan.’

‘And Tiaan?’ Flydd held little hope for her – she’d
thwarted Jal-Nish and he would have made her pay.

‘No idea, surr.’

They reached the end of the hall, where Chissmoul twisted
the knob and thrust the door open. It was so dark inside that Flydd could make
nothing out, until someone laughed in a way that raised his hackles.

‘She’s got you too!’ a man spoke in an oddly triumphant tone
of voice, one unfortunate taking pleasure in another’s downfall. ‘That
completes the picture.’

‘You know who I am, even though I’ve taken renewal?’ said
Flydd, the hair on the top of his head stirring.

The man stood up. Flydd made out the faintest double flash,
as though he wore broad, shiny bracelets on his wrists. He was very tall.

‘I would know you anywhere, Flydd, even after the renewal
you swore never to take.’

Flydd wasn’t going to make excuses to this rival of long
ago. ‘What kept you here? Surely you, of all people, could have broken free
long ago? Your Arts, after all, are unique, and as I recall they relied less on
the power of the nodes than anyone’s. Not even the power of the tears could
take all your power from you.’

‘Not all, no. Unfortunately, the Numinator’s servants took
me by surprise and put these on me.’ The bracelets flashed again. ‘They are
bonded to me like my own bones to my flesh. I cannot remove them, and while
their enchantment persists I may not use the least part of my Arts.’

‘That must be galling.’ Flydd couldn’t feel too much
sympathy for him – they had been rivals far too long – though he
did understand. In the last months of the war they’d managed to achieve an
uneasy comradeship.

‘I’ve endured the loss of my powers before, and I can endure
it again.’

‘So I believe. So who is the Numinator, anyway? If you
recognised me so easily, surely you must know her true identity?’

‘I’ve never met her,’ said the man in the shadows. ‘I’ve not
even seen her from a distance.’

‘How curious,’ said Flydd. ‘She showed herself to us freely.
Well, no matter. Let’s see if we can get you out of here, Yggur.’

 
THIRTY-EIGHT

Yggur chuckled and held out his arms, on which the
bracelets gleamed silver. ‘Why did you take renewal?’

‘Another time,’ Flydd snapped, studying the bracelets in dim
finger light. Without understanding how they worked it would not be easy to
break their hold.

‘Sensitive, are we?’

Flydd studiously ignored the jibe. ‘How did you end up
here?’

‘Jal-Nish hunted me a good way across Lauralin, with a band
of fellow miserables that grew smaller every day. There was no hiding place
from which he could not winkle us out with his all-seeing tears. The Numinator
was my last hope; no one else had the power. As it turned out, she did not,
either, and I now think we were lured here. The moment we arrived I was beset
by a horde of Whelm –
Whelm! Me!
– and these bracelets fitted to me. She’s got little power of her own,
Xervish. The destruction of the nodes robbed her of most of it, and destroyed
her work – I dare say you’ve seen the decaying evidence of it by now.’

‘We saw it.’

‘The bracelets take all the power I can draw upon, and
channel it to her. It’s all that’s holding the Tower of a Thousand Steps
together.’

There came a furious attack on the barred door at the other
end of the hall. ‘Is there any other way out of here?’

‘I’d be the last person to know,’ said Yggur. ‘As the
Numinator’s most dangerous prisoner, and the Whelm’s former master, way back in
the Time of the Mirror, my movements here have been severely constrained. What
about you, Flangers?’

‘As a soldier and a
former
hero, I haven’t been allowed to roam either.’

‘The Whelm made me work all over the place,’ said Chissmoul
in that quiet little voice. ‘Up in the tower and down in the pits, but I don’t
know of any way out save across the shifting ice on the moat.’

‘Then let’s waste no more time looking for one,’ said Yggur.
‘We’d better get through to the others –’

‘What others?’ said Colm, who had been very quiet since
they’d lost Maelys.

‘The Numinator has another hundred and fifty prisoners here,
and her Whelm bring in a few more every week. They take anyone from the nearby
lands who can read. The work of cross-checking her registers goes on sixteen
hours a day.’

‘What for?’ said Flydd. The nagging question had gone
unanswered for too long.

Yggur did not answer. At the other end of the hall, the
attack on the ice door grew ever more furious.

‘They’re nearly through,’ said Colm. ‘Do something, Flydd,
before they massacre us all.’

The cries of the Whelm could be heard clearly now, and they
sounded desperate.

‘What’s the matter with them?’ said Yggur. ‘I’ve not seen a
trace of fear in them in the seven years I’ve been here.’

‘Only one thing can make Whelm afraid,’ said Flydd, ‘and
better than anyone you know what that is.’

‘A threat to their master,’ said Yggur. ‘But no one can
threaten her here. She can see an enemy coming for fifty leagues.’

‘Only if one comes via the material world! Chissmoul, where
are the other prisoners?’

Yggur caught his arm. ‘What did you mean by that, Flydd? How
did
you get here?’

‘Later,’ said Flydd, pleased to have Yggur at a
disadvantage. Too often, in previous times, it had been the other way around.
‘We’ll have to fight our way out, and five against seven hundred isn’t the kind
of odds I relish. I’m going to release the rest of the prisoners and find a way
to arm them.’

‘This way –’ Chissmoul broke off, staring at the ice
wall, down which a thread of glistening white fire was making its way.

‘What the blazes is
that
?’
said Yggur.

‘Chthonic flame,’ said Flydd. ‘I found it in the caverns
within the plateau of Thuntunnimoe – Mistmurk Mountain.’ But why was it
trickling
down
? It could not have
come from the fire he’d used to escape his own cell; not here.

‘I know about Thuntunnimoe,’ said Yggur. ‘It has a Charon
obelisk on top – a warning to keep away, among other things. And you took
this chthonic fire from
within
?’

‘Deep down. There wasn’t any choice, not with the
God-Emperor and Vivimord closing in on us, both desperate to get Nish back.’

‘So Nish still holds out?’ Yggur said admiringly. ‘He’s got
a backbone of adamant, that young man.’ He moved closer to the wall, studying
the chthonic fire from just a hand-span away. ‘It’s eating away the ice. This
is a perilous force you’ve liberated, Flydd. I do hope you know what you’re
doing.’ Yggur’s tone implied that he didn’t.

‘I said there wasn’t any choice,’ Flydd said darkly,
irritated that Yggur still had the ability to rile him. ‘We would have died,
otherwise.

Yggur pressed his nose to the wall, watched the tiny trail
trickle past, and frowned. ‘You might still have made the wrong choice.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You do know the story of the girl who opened the forbidden
box and unleashed pestilence upon the world?’

‘Of course!’ Flydd snapped.

‘I suggest you reflect upon it.’ He turned away. ‘See how it
burns through the ice, Chissmoul?’

She shivered. ‘It’s as though it’s
feeding
on it.’

‘We would do well to reflect upon that as well. Come on.’

He turned away, limping from an age-old injury, then set
off, his long legs taking such lengthy strides that Flydd found himself
trotting to keep up. That irritated him too, and he dropped back to a fast
walk.

Yggur chuckled.

‘What’s so funny?’ Flydd snapped.

‘You, Flydd. You’re a treat. I haven’t felt so good in all
my years of imprisonment.’

‘To make you happy, I’d gleefully double them.’

‘Weakest jibe yet. You’ve lost your touch, old friend
– renewal has diminished you.’

Flydd scowled, for Yggur was right. With an effort, he put
his feelings to one side. They would always be rivals, yet they had to work
together. They reached a buttress of solid ice, a good span thick and rounded
at the base, as if it was slowly flowing and spreading out under the weight of
the inner tower. Beside it the wall was thinner, no more than a couple of
hand-spans.

‘Here, I think,’ said Yggur. ‘Would you agree, Chissmoul?’

She studied the wall, head to one side. ‘Yes.’

Flydd withdrew his ice flask and twisted at the stopper.

‘What’s that?’ Yggur said sharply.

‘The chthonic flame I took from Thuntunnimoe. It’s how we’ve
been getting through walls and keeping ahead of the Whelm.’

Yggur held out his hand. Flydd grudgingly placed the flask
in the middle of his palm. Yggur studied it warily, then carefully eased the
stopper out. A tiny ice-white flame wisped up. Yggur slammed the stopper in and
twisted it until it was tight.

‘Put it away, you fool.
Don’t
ever use it again
.’

Flydd felt furiously angry, but bit down on it, for that
would only be aiding the enemy. ‘I take your warning, but if it’s necessary to
use it for our survival, I’ll use it.’

‘I hope you don’t live to regret it.’

‘Hadn’t you better tell him about the other one?’ said Colm,
who was looking more troubled every second.

‘
What other one?
’
Yggur cried, spinning on one foot. His bracelets twinkled in the white
firelight as though they were inset with diamonds.

There was a monumental crash behind them. The Whelm were
into the first hall. ‘There isn’t time to discuss it,’ said Flydd. ‘We’ve got
to move.’

Flangers drew himself upright, took the ice cudgel Flydd had
left on the floor, and hobbled back along the hall to stand guard. Chissmoul
and Colm went with him.

‘We’ll discuss it right now,’ said Yggur. ‘What other one?’

‘I brought the Numinator three bottles. I had no hope of
gaining her cooperation unless I could give her some power she’d never seen
before.’

‘And in the three bottles? Please tell me you haven’t given
her the chthonic flame, Flydd.’

‘I gave her the cursed flame, the abyssal flame which feeds
it and, from the greatest depth of all, the chthonic flame,’ Flydd said limply.

‘You stupid, useless fool! We’ve got to get it back.’

‘It’s too late. She must have used it already …’

Yggur followed his gaze to the wall, down which two more
threads of twinkling fire were running, eating into the ice and spreading. What
if it
was
feeding on the ice? Flydd
thought.

‘What has she used it for?’ said Yggur.

Flydd gave no answer.

‘I’ve got to have power,’ muttered Yggur. ‘I feel as
helpless as a child. Since you’ve got such colossal forces to lavish on our
enemy, do something with these.’ He held out his wrists.

Flydd laid his hands on the bracelets, trying to sense his
way into the spell-binder they contained. Feeling something shifting restlessly
within them, he strained with all his might. The bracelets grew burning hot
under his hands and he smelt burnt hair. They had singed the hairs on Yggur’s
arms, though he did not flinch.

Flydd, feeling the strength draining out of him, jerked his
hands away. ‘I don’t know if it’s helped, but I can do no more just now.’

Yggur rubbed his wrists. ‘I’ve got a trace of my power back
and … it feels as though the Numinator’s hold over me has weakened. As though
she’s far away …’

Flydd and Colm exchanged glances.

‘What have you done now?’ cried Yggur.