The Night of the Swarm

spell, Cayer, and you might wish that I had saved my strength for other uses, if that Plazic warlord draws his knife. And remember that we may not have seen all our foes.’

‘We could wait for nightfall,’ said Neeps.

‘Hear the fool,’ said Lunja. ‘If we try to cross that bridge in darkness we will die.’

‘I fear the sergeant is right, Neeps,’ said Hercol, ‘and we can ill afford to lose even one more day.’

‘What about Nolcindar and her company?’ asked Thasha.

‘It was never certain that they would come this way,’ said Valgrif, ‘and with hrathmogs on the mountain it is less likely still. But if she has come and gone she would leave a tiny mark upon the bridge itself — upon both bridges, probably.’

‘What if them dogs are woken too?’ said Big Skip.

‘What if the mucking bridge falls?’ snapped Mandric. ‘Think too much and you’ll soil your leggings. Get your blood up for butchery, and stop hoping someone else will do it for you. That’s my strategic advice.’

‘They will do it for us, if we are careless,’ said Thaulinin.

The bickering went on. Pazel could taste his fear mounting with every word. Not now, he thought furiously. Be afraid when it’s over. He touched the pommel of his selk sword; and in his pocket, the reassuring weight of Fiffengurt’s blackjack. He glanced at Neeps and Thasha: he could read them like the pages of a cherished book. Neeps was looking fierce and defiant. And while Thasha’s eyes brightened a little at his look, she was really gazing inwards, searching for the power that could save them, at whatever the cost to herself. Searching for a gap in the wall.

And not finding it. Pazel could see that too, by the deep frown of guilt that was gathering in her lips, her eyebrows. She’s taking it all on her shoulders, he thought. She’s wondering who’s going to die because of that wall.

He reached for her hand, but she pulled it quickly away. ‘Ramachni,’ she said, ‘what did it cost you to fight the eguar? Are you empty inside, the way you were in Simja?’

The mage stepped close to her. ‘No, not like that,’ he said. ‘Lord Arim shouldered most of the burden of the lightning strike. I have been stronger, but I am still quite strong.’

‘You said once that the quest had no hope without Erithusme,’ said Thasha. ‘Was it because you foresaw a moment like this?’

Ramachni’s dark eyes looked at her with compassion. ‘This moment was foreseen by no one, my champion. Not by us, nor by those across the bridge, nor by the sorceress who set them in our path. How it will end is not predestined. We must remember that, and seek the ending without fear.’

An hour later the party launched its assault.

Once more the ixchel led the way. It was their awful task to cross the bridge unseen and slay the eagle — silently if they could, but in the end by any means whatsoever. The two women had decided against the footbridge beneath the water chute: neither had much confidence that they could pass through the falling torrent at the bridge’s centre and not be swept away. They had also seen the dlomic soldiers descending the staircase beneath the aqueduct to have a look at the footbridge.

That left only the main bridge to consider. There was a foot-wide rim on either side of the watercourse, and the sun had kept both free of ice. But for a stealth attack, the upper surface of the bridge was out of the question, for it was in plain view of both Dastu and the eagle. At last the ixchel had chosen a more harrowing course: along the side of the bridge, clinging vertically to those ancient carvings. Dastu was keeping largely to the near side of the aqueduct, and the eagle’s perch on the tower gave it a view of the clearing and the open top of the watercourse, but not the side. Unless one of them (or some other enemy) moved to the northern edge of the clearing, Ensyl and Myett would be hidden. They would also, of course, be exposed to that monstrous wind, with nothing to hold on to save the faint, time-smoothed shapes of animals and men. And what if they encountered ice?

‘Do not let the wind take you, little sisters,’ said Valgrif as the two women set out.

Ensyl and Myett looked back at the party. ‘Human beings named us crawlies,’ Ensyl said. ‘Judge us today by our crawling.’

‘If you can feel these eyes upon you,’ said Hercol, ‘then you will know that they watch not with judgement but with love.’

The two women gazed at him in silence a moment. Then they crawled forward on their stomachs, with infinite care, until they could just see the eagle on its perch.

The rest of the party crouched among the boulders, watching with the deepest anxiety. Pazel could still see Dastu meandering back and forth. What was he doing with them? How had he been treated? The telescope revealed no obvious wounds or signs of torture. Despite what Hercol had said about his loyalty to Arqual, Pazel found himself wondering if Dastu might not have quickly agreed to help Macadra any way he could.

‘Now,’ whispered Ensyl.

The two ixchel sprinted for the pines, and froze as one behind a trunk. Pazel held his breath: the eagle did not move. It had seen nothing, and the ixchel were now halfway to the cliff.

Bows at the ready, Hercol and three selk warriors crept into position behind the boulder nearest the pines. They had no clear shot of the bird from here, but could at least rush forward and fire from the chasm’s edge. If Myett and Ensyl failed, their shots would give the quest another chance.

The ixchel sprinted again. This time they made for a rock in the centre of the clearing. It was utterly exposed, and barely large enough to hide them both: they came to rest on hands and knees, with Myett folded over Ensyl’s body and their heads curled down. Once more they stayed hidden, this time by a finger’s width. Another pause, then they ran for the third and final time, and reached the shelter of the stairwell. Ensyl looked back and gave a wry salute. Then they slipped under the aqueduct, making for the blind side of the bridge.

Aya Rin, thought Pazel, let them do that well above the gorge.

Now all eyes turned to Ramachni. They could see him by looking under the aqueduct; he was at the opposite side of the clearing, lying flat behind a fallen pine. It had taken him a long time to squirm down the ridge to that position, but it had a singular advantage: from there he could see both the party and the ixchel as they climbed. For the others, Ensyl and Myett would be invisible until the moment they attacked.

They would need at least thirty minutes for the crossing, Ensyl had said. Pazel wiggled his toes. He thought, The waiting will be the worst part. Then he thought how unlikely that was to be true.

Looking at those crouched beside him, Thaulinin tapped his vest pocket meaningfully. The fire beetles. On Isarak he had warned them that biting into the creatures might prove more dangerous than the cold itself. But digging through a snow drift was one thing, and wading uphill against a three-foot-deep flood of meltwater quite another.

Pazel’s knees were growing stiff. On the far side of the chasm the eagle stretched its wings. Dastu climbed the stairs to the top of the watercourse and sat upon the rim.

Pazel looked back over his shoulder. Neda and Cayer Vispek were mouthing silent words to each other, sketching movements on their palms. Vispek’s eyes were fierce and hard. In recent days he had barely spoken to Neda, and Pazel knew that her master’s coldness had wounded her. But they had trained together, and Vispek had insisted that they would fight side by side.

The others looked about as bad as Pazel felt. Big Skip caught his eye, smiled with some effort, made the sign of the Tree. Lunja glanced savagely at Neeps and motioned for him to button his coat.

Then at last Ramachni raised his head. Everyone grew still. Through the pine limbs Pazel could just see the tower battlements where the eagle perched. Ramachni lifted one paw from the ground: Steady, steady-

The eagle shot into the air.

Instantly everyone was in motion. Ramachni bolted for the bridge. Hercol and the selk archers erupted from behind their boulder and flew towards the cliff. Behind them, the rest of the party sprinted forward as well.

The eagle, veering erratically, was already soaring away from the bridge. The archers let fly, but the surging wind over the chasm blew their arrows wildly off-target. Dastu turned to them, waving and shouting: ‘You’re here! Don’t shoot! Ramachni, let me explain! Don’t shoot that bird!’

Ramachni had bounded onto the lip of the water chute and was charging up the bridge’s steep incline. He ignored Dastu’s shouts.