The Night of the Swarm

daylight again.

There in the plain below waited the King of Nohirin in his pavilion, surrounded by the eight hundred soldiers who dared not enter where the young girl had gone alone. When Erithusme descended, the king praised her, then roughly demanded the Orb, saying, ‘This tool would never profit a peasant’s daughter. Give it to me! It belongs in royal hands.’ But the girl drew back, and reminded him of his promise. ‘One falcon of my choice from your covey did you swear to give me, O King,’ she said. ‘And my choice is there on your huntsman’s arm.’

The king was angry, for she had chosen his favourite. ‘I will send a suitable bird to your father’s homestead,’ he told her. ‘Now give me Droth’s Eye.’

Still Erithusme did not yield. The king shouted to his guard, and they moved to seize her. And not knowing what she did. Erithusme raised the Orb before her with a cry, and the king and his eight hundred were swept away in a whirlwind of terrible force, and found later throughout the countryside, crushed against cliffs, impaled on trees and steeples. But the bird flew to her arm and became her companion, and journeyed with her far over Alifros aboard her ship.

When fresh carrion is plentiful the raptor may not bother to hunt, though it will rarely pass up the incautious mouse or field rat-

‘Oh, I say.’ Felthrup shook himself, and looked up from the Polylex. ‘It’s all birds from that point on,’ he said. ‘Nothing more about Erithusme, under Raptors at least. Not so useful, was it? We knew the outline of the story already.’

Marila gazed down at the book. ‘It does tell us one thing. Erithusme could use the Nilstone from the moment she touched it. And not just for simple tricks. If the book’s telling the truth, she had huge powers from the start. And all because she lacked fear. That’s strange too. What sort of person lacks fear entirely?’

‘But she did not,’ said Felthrup. ‘That at least is how Thasha heard the story from the Mother Prohibitor. That little needle-prick became a slight burning, then a stronger pain, and each year she kept the stone it grew worse. And when Erithusme consulted the High Priestess on Rapopalni, she was told no mortal being can ever be wholly emptied of fear — and that consequently the stone would kill her in time. And Thasha believed the same would happen to her, only faster.’

‘Much faster,’ said Marila, nodding. ‘We talked about the Nilstone, once. During that week when the boys weren’t speaking to us. She thought it would take the stone about three minutes to kill her, if she was rested and could put up a good fight.’

‘Three minutes!’ said Felthrup. ‘Then I hope she never touches it at all.’

‘But even three minutes makes her — different,’ said Marila. ‘Everyone else who touches that blary thing dies before they can scream.’

‘Unless they’ve drunk of the wine of Agaroth,’ said Felthrup. Marila looked at him blankly. ‘Ah, but you weren’t there, were you? It was in the Straits of Simja, just after the Shaggat Ness was turned to stone. Ramachni spoke of an enchanted wine from the twilight kingdom, used by the Fell Princes when the Stone was in their possession, long eons ago. The wine made them fearless enough to survive the touch of the Stone. Though I doubt it helped their judgement when they used it.’

‘What happened to that wine?’

Felthrup’s nose twitched. ‘What do you think, my dear? They drank it up. You can find it in the Polylex under the heading Incontinence, Sins of.’

Marila laid a hand on the delicate paper of the book. ‘We know Erithusme and Thasha are connected. Thasha knows that herself. When we were locked up in the Conservatory, there was even talk that Erithusme could be her mother. Thasha went sort of crazy once, and began talking in someone else’s voice. Maybe that voice was Erithusme’s. Neeps thought so.’

Marila fell abruptly silent. Then she rose to her feet, startling rat and dogs alike.

‘I don’t know what we think we’re accomplishing. What does all this matter, if we never see them again? No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. It matters, they matter. But we don’t.’

She touched her belly, unconsciously. The rat wished for human arms, for limbs that could embrace and protect. Fear was so easy to smell, so terribly difficult to lessen.

I must return to the River of Shadows, he thought. I must find Orfuin and beg for aid. Somehow we must reach them, if they yet live. Or free ourselves from hope if they do not.

‘I can’t stand thinking of him,’ Marila whispered, as if ashamed of the admission.

‘You must,’ said Felthrup. ‘Not thinking of him is a human sort of trick, and not a very clever one, my dear. Some pain it is folly to avoid. Think of him, ache for him. Let that longing bring you the strength to do what he would wish you to do.’

Marila blinked at him. ‘How did you learn to think that way?’

Felthrup tilted his head as though to say he had no idea. He could not bring himself to admit that he was quoting from a volume of melodramas Admiral Isiq had left in his cabin, under the pillow.

Marila closed the Polylex and stepped to the wall. Running her fingers along the rough planks, she found the spot she wanted and pushed. There was a click, and Felthrup saw the outline of the hidden cabinet where they stored the irreplaceable book. Marila clawed it open and slipped the Polylex inside.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s see if we can get something out of the witch.’

They left the stateroom, Thasha’s mastiffs leading the way. In truth, Felthrup had his doubts about their errand as well. Lady Oggosk (with that certainty of obedience she always displayed) had simply ordered him to produce the Polylex. ‘I’m not Arunis, I won’t steal it from you,’ she had declared. But she had turned from him as she spoke the words, as though afraid of what her face might reveal. Inwardly, Felthrup had panicked, matched her evasion with one of his own. He would have to speak to Marila, he’d said, for he could hardly fulfil her wishes alone. Priceless and forbidden books were not to be dragged about in sackcloth, were they?

Convince her! Lady Oggosk had replied, adding that the very survival of the Chathrand was at stake. After that she’d shut her mouth, waiting for him to go. It was not for rats to question the Duchess of Tiroshi.

He did not like to cross the witch, despite her curious transformation into his protector and confidant (if such a word could ever apply to one so crafty and calculating). And yet the book was in his trust, his and Marila’s. And so he had questioned further.

‘Forgive me, lady, but you had best make a stronger argument. Recall if you will that the Mother Prohibitor herself told Thasha to share the book with no one.’

Lady Oggosk had thrown a hairbrush at him. ‘The Mother Prohibitor!’ she shrieked. ‘Is she aboard? Did she ever do anything for Thasha Isiq, save imprison her, and teach her how to snare a man with hips and eyelashes? Did she ever raise a finger against the sorcerer, or the excesses of the Secret Fist? I am the one who sacrificed! That woman stayed in Etherhorde to raise catfish.’

Felthrup shuddered. He knew his favour with the witch could vanish as quickly at it had appeared. He had no idea why she considered him important. Before Masalym she had hardly spared him a glance. Now for some reason she had let it be known that he was under her wing — that the man who laid a finger on the Chathrand’s sole surviving rat⁸ would answer to her. In her cabin she regaled him with stories of her first excursions with Captain Rose, her low opinions of certain crewmembers (most crewmembers), her hatred of Mzithrinis, her delight in the harm done to them by the Shaggat cult.

Most disturbing were her hints about the Swarm of Night, which she said was growing like an invisible tumour. ‘It is here, in Alifros,’ she would tell him. ‘Some monster has brought it back — Arunis, possibly, before he fell. I can feel it, the way Rose feels the distribution of cargo in the hold. I can feel the Swarm unbalancing the world.’

They passed through the invisible wall. ‘Not that way,’ said Marila, as Felthrup started up the Silver Stair. ‘I don’t want the whole ship to see us heading for her door. Let’s cross the lower gun deck. Nothing much happening there.’

They descended, and set out across the deck. Light poured in through the glass planks in the ceiling, making