The Fate of the Fallen (The Song of the Tears Book 1) (63 page)

Nish gritted his teeth. Flydd made a quick cut across the
scar, inserted the tip of the blade and levered, and the broken end of a bloody
spine appeared. He pinched it between finger and thumb and drew it smoothly
out. After rinsing the blood off in a stream of water from a jug, he held it up
to the firelight, then his face blackened.

With a swift movement, he dropped the spine into a stone
mortar, ground it to powder with a pestle and emptied it into the fire,
carefully brushing every last grain of powder out. They sparkled scarlet as
they fell into the flames, and Nish felt his unconscious burden ease a trifle.

‘You bloody moron!’ hissed Flydd, his old face twisted in fury.
For all his age, he was still a powerful man and not to be crossed. ‘That
wasn’t a spine, it was a
tracker
. Of
course your father wasn’t trying to kill you – you’re all he’s got left.
He’s happy to see you suffer, for he’s endured pain that few people have ever
felt and emerged the stronger for it, but he’ll protect you with his life. And
than means …’

He paced across the room, and back. ‘The assassination
attempts were just decoys to disguise putting the tracker in you. But why do
that, when clearly he could have abducted you at any time? Because he’s had a
new plan ever since you got away from Tifferfyte.’

‘What plan?’ said Maelys.

‘He was there in an air-dreadnought as you fled, remember?
And with the tears, he might have read fragments of your vision in the Pit
– enough, at least, to realise his chance. You didn’t know what was at
the end of your vision, but Jal-Nish could have worked it out.

‘You wondered why he allowed the Defiance to grow so large,
unhindered, and why he took so long to attack. What if he sacrificed the army
you destroyed so your rise would be all the more convincing? That’s it! He
wanted you to lead the Defiance and have a great victory, Nish, because that
would coax the last of his old enemies out of hiding. And now you’ve led him
straight to me – the enemy he wants to revenge himself on more than
anyone.’

‘I – I’m sorry,’ said Nish numbly. He’d been used and
manipulated from the beginning, and maybe even that great battle victory hadn’t
been real, although he didn’t want to think so. ‘It didn’t occur to me that
–’

Flydd waved a hand. The fury had passed as quickly as it
came, though his cloudy eyes had a steely shine in the firelight. ‘What does it
matter? I’m at the end of my days, anyway. He won’t be taking me alive, and I’ll
do him some damage as I go – as much as I can manage in my feeble state.
I just hate to be outwitted so easily.’ Shaking his grizzled head, he reached
for another flask.

Nish slumped onto the bench. His every small victory was
followed by a shattering defeat, and there was no way out of this one.

‘What can you do to him, Xervish?’ said Maelys. ‘I though
all power was lost, save the power of the tears?’

‘All those Arts which relied on power drawn from nodes
failed, yet some of the ancient, more difficult magics linger on, greatly
weakened though not destroyed. I haven’t wasted all my time here in drink and
regret – nine years ago I laboured up this peak carrying a pack full of
ancient spell books and grimoires.’ He waved a hand at a shelf containing half
a dozen battered books. Their spines were covered in blue mould. ‘I studied
them assiduously in the early days, trying to develop new forms of the Art for
the final battle.’

‘It won’t be long,’ said Thommel. ‘The soldiers could be on
the way up already.’

‘You couldn’t bring an army up that cleft in darkness,’ said
Flydd.

‘He doesn’t need an army. Ten soldiers, good climbers, would
be more than our match. He must have hundreds of climbers and spies used to
working in the dark, and we can’t stop them. This is the end.’

‘I’m afraid it is, and all we can do is delay it for a few
hours.’

‘What’s the point?’ said Thommel dully.

Maelys reached out and touched his arm. He tried to smile at
her, to regain what they’d had before, but couldn’t manage it.

‘If we have to die,’ said Flydd, ‘defiance in the face of
impossible odds is the best way to go out. Our tale will give others hope,
assuming they ever hear of it. Besides, you’ll be surprised how precious those
few extra hours of life become, at the end. You’ll do anything to stretch them
out …’

He fell silent, looking down at the floor, before
continuing. ‘The cleft you came up is the only one suited to a large force. The
other clefts could only be climbed, and then with difficulty, by mountaineers.’

‘How can five of us possibly delay them?’ said Thommel.

‘You’ll see in a minute. I put defences in place years ago.’

‘Father could attack from the air as well,’ said Nish. ‘We
can’t delay that.’

‘But the weather will,’ said Flydd. ‘I chose this place for
its natural defences as well as … other reasons. The native power of
Thuntunnimoe prevents flappeters and other Art-driven beasts, and perhaps even
air-dreadnoughts, from descending on us from above. And the updraughts –’

‘What is the power of this place? Has it got to do with the
obelisk?’

‘Not so much the obelisk as what lies beneath it. It’s an
age-old Charon memorial, I believe, built at a site of native power, an uncanny
flame. The obelisk is a memorial to failure – a sign that all endeavours
fail in the end, and time undoes all things. That won’t please Jal-Nish, of
course, since his life’s obsession is to change the world in ways that will
endure forever.’

He thought about that for a moment. ‘The obelisk was built
over the cursed flame –’

‘I wondered why the stone was so warm,’ said Maelys.

‘The obelisk is bonded indissolubly to the living rock,
sheltering and protecting the cursed flame, not that it matters to us. The
flame used to issue from the top in ancient times, as a sign or a warning, but
the conduit must have become blocked in ages past. The power of the flame
hasn’t proven usable by mortal humans, so far …’

‘But you planned to?’

‘I thought I’d found a new way,’ said Flydd, ‘but I wasn’t
strong enough. The power was constrained by the builders of the obelisk,
deliberately, and it was built to last, well, not forever, but for a very long
time.’

‘But it’s broken. How did that happen?’

‘I don’t know, but the break hasn’t freed the power of the
flame. I don’t think anything can.’

‘You were saying about the updraughts?’

‘Oh yes. They gust so wildly that no air-dreadnought could
survive them, and they only stop when it’s blowing a gale, as now.’

‘Do we have a hope of escape, Xervish?’ Maelys asked softly.
‘Any at all?’

‘I’m sorry. There’s no way out now.’

‘Then what about the ancient Arts you’ve been studying?’ she
persisted. ‘You must have had a plan to use them.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Flydd asked mildly.

‘I – I devoured the Histories and the tales of the
war, from when I was a little girl. Clan Nifferlin had them all in its library,
once. I know a lot about you.’

‘Do you now?’ He bestowed a fond smile on her. ‘Then you’ll
also know that most heroic tales are lies written by rogues for the
entertainment of fools.’

‘I know no such thing!’ she cried hotly. ‘Not everything in
the tales is truth, for what is truth anyway, when everyone sees a tale
differently? But I know you were a great and honourable man –’

‘
Were?
’ His smile
broadened. ‘Have you judged me and found me wanting?’

She looked mortified. ‘No, of course not, Xervish. I’m
sorry.’

He chuckled. ‘I’m indulging myself in my last hours by
teasing you. But you’re right. I chose this plateau carefully, from dozens of
possible refuges, because there was an ancient power here which predated the
nodes. The broken obelisk is, in part, a monument to the tragic failure of
those who died trying to master that power, in days long past.’

‘Then what made you think you could do better?’

‘Ah, that would be telling. I’ll say only that, as my
mastery of the old Arts grew, I hoped to draw upon it. But it turned out that
the power of Thuntunnimoe had been greatly weakened by the destruction of the
nodes, and the old Arts took longer to master than I’d expected. By the time
I’d done so I was an old, feeble man, without the strength to draw what I
needed. You can’t imagine how frustrating it’s been to feel the power just
beyond my fingertips, yet be too decrepit to use it.

‘I also chose Mistmurk Mountain because it offered an escape
route, but without power I can’t use it. Not only is great power required to
open that way, but more is needed to hold it open for the hours it will take to
traverse it. All I’ve got left is the power for one last desperate burst of
mancery, to take as many of my enemies as possible with me. Though alas, not
the God-Emperor. He knows what a cunning old scoundrel I am and won’t risk
himself until he’s seen my decapitated and quartered body, with the pieces well
separated.’

‘So we’re doomed,’ said Nish.

‘No,
we’re
doomed,’ said Thommel, again with that hint of bitterness. ‘The God-Emperor
will make sure his beloved son is safe. He’ll take you back to a life of
unimaginable luxury, power and pleasure.’

‘I’m not going back.’ Nish could feel the temptation tugging
at him but had no trouble resisting it now. His father had used him once too
often.

‘Really?’ said Thommel, as if he could read Nish’s mind.

‘What’s that?’ said Maelys, cupping her ear. ‘It sounds like
someone shrieking.’

Fiery pain ran down the length of the nylatl wound, then
Nish ran for the door. Zham and Thommel beat him to it and forced their way
outside. He followed. The wind was so strong that it lifted him up on tiptoes.
The moon was out now, mostly showing its red- and black-blotched face, which
touched the bogs and pools with red-tinged reflections. The sky was clear, not
a trace of fog or cloud anywhere.

‘Stay close by the hut,’ hissed Flydd. ‘The amber-wood will
conceal you here, but not out in the open. If you must go further, put this in
your pocket.’ He tossed a small chunk of amber-wood to each of them.

Nish sniffed his and thrust it into his pocket. High above,
silhouetted against the moon, were a wheeling flock of flappeters.

‘Are they spying?’ said Maelys.

‘Undoubtedly. But something else is going on. I can feel
it.’

‘What, surr?’ said Zham.

One of the flappeters dipped suddenly, shuddered violently
then shot away and climbed back towards its fellows. ‘It looks as though
someone’s trying to call it down,’ said Flydd.

‘What, down here?’ said Nish.

‘I don’t know,’ said Flydd. ‘There it goes again.’

The flappeter dipped sharply this time, then plunged down at
a steep angle towards the centre of the plateau.

‘I thought you said they couldn’t descend from above the
plateau?’ said Maelys.

Flydd didn’t answer. The flappeter’s dive steepened; its
rider was standing up in the saddle. It was now hurtling down, the
feather-rotors driving it ever faster.

Nish expected it to pull out and come racing towards them
but it continued in a straight line and crashed at full speed into the mire, sending
gouts of mud flying spans into the air. High above, the remaining flappeters
wailed in unison.

Everyone looked shocked. ‘I guess that means we’re safe for
a while,’ said Nish.

‘He hasn’t finished yet, whoever he is,’ said Flydd, looking
up. ‘He’s trying again.’

A second beast was now bucking as it, and its rider, tried
to fight whatever was attempting to take control of them.

‘The call is too strong,’ said Flydd. ‘Whoever it is,
they’re determined to prevail.’

‘Who could it be?’ Maelys said faintly. She was shaking.
Instinctively she moved closer to Thommel, who put his arm around her.

Nish looked away. It was none of his business, but he felt a
pang for the times they’d shared together and the friendship they might have
developed if he hadn’t kept her at bay. Despite everything, she’d got under his
skin.

The flappeter suddenly dived towards the edge of the
plateau, was buffeted perilously close to the cliffs by the updraught then
corkscrewed down out of sight. Nish ran to the rim and peered over. The beast
was hurtling towards an eroded rock stack jutting up from the side of the
pinnacle, halfway to the bottom.

‘It seems to be settling,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘It’s
in shadow now; I can’t see it.’

The others came up behind him. ‘It’s rising again,’ said
Zham, whose eyes were keener than Nish’s.

Nish made it out now, slowly beating its way up. ‘It looks
bulkier …’

‘Carrying two riders,’ said Zham.

The flappeter moved out, caught the updraught and shot
upwards. ‘That’s the way to do it,’ Maelys said with a professional eye.

‘He won’t find it easy to get out of the airstream, though,’
said Flydd. ‘Whoever he is …’

As the flappeter neared the top of the cliffs it began to
buck and swerve wildly. It was thrown side-on and barely avoided smashing against
an overhang, going so close that the rear rider reached out with a long spear
to fend the cliff off. The flappeter spun in a circle, then back the other way,
the feather-rotors roaring.

‘Crash!’ said Maelys, standing rigidly erect, unblinking.

The rear rider fended the cliff off again. The flappeter was
close now though neither rider showed any sign of seeing them.

‘There’s a mighty turbulence when the updraught meets the
cross-wind,’ said Thommel. ‘With any luck –’

The front rider thrust his fist through the loop-controller
and raw power redly illuminated a banner of mist clinging to the underside of
the beast. It let out a screaming wail, caught the updraught and shot up into
the clear air above the plateau. Nish heard a shout, ‘Down, down!’