Vengeance

looming defeat and back again. Deroe, an old man emotionally frozen in adolescence at the time Lyf had first possessed him, could never be Lyf’s match in wit or magery. However, Deroe had a real human body to draw upon and it gave him far more strength than Lyf could take from the wrythen form he had left behind in his distant caverns. The longer the struggle went on the weaker Lyf became, and the greater the likelihood that Deroe would cast him out permanently.

If Deroe ever realised how physically weak Lyf was, if Deroe knew for a moment that Lyf could be beaten, he would attack mercilessly. Deroe had to die.

But he had the three stolen nuclixes close to hand to bolster his power at need, while Lyf’s, the weakest of the five, could not be used at all from so far away. Unable to match Deroe’s strength, and afraid to use magery that might be turned against him, all Lyf had left was cunning, and patience.

And knowledge of a weakness Deroe was not aware of. A vessel in his brain had a flaw and, if it could be induced to rupture, the magian’s death would come within minutes. Not so fast that his death would trap Lyf too — for that was the greatest peril of fighting a man while possessing him — but too quick for Deroe to save himself with magery.

Lyf had been subtly attacking the flaw for hours, picking at it with what little force he could muster while the mental struggle went on. It was like trying to cut a pipe with a feather, yet in time a feather can wear away rock and he was close now. Just a hundred more strokes. Just fifty. Just thirty -

The call shrieked through his mind, but this time it was his nuclix, calling frantically — an intruder had entered his caverns. And The Consolation of Vengeance lay open on its table, unprotected. What if the intruder stole it? Or worse, catastrophically so because the last leaf was blank — what if the intruder wrote another ending and transmitted it to the Chamber of the Solaces?

Lyf burned quessence like a spendthrift, desperate to see, to know. The intruder was the host, Tali, and somehow she had gained entrance to the white shaft of the Abysm, his nucleatory. How had she got in?

Again this admirable enemy confounded him by going where no living human should have been able to go. It had not occurred to Lyf that one person could easily penetrate the sacred Abysm — someone who also had a nuclix. She was close to the source; her master nuclix might already be charging itself from it and if she took his nuclix, the plans of two thousand years would collapse.

He had to fly at once.

But Lyf could not simply disengage from Deroe. That would leave him exposed and vulnerable for an eternal minute, time enough for the magian to strike. Lyf had to ease out of Deroe’s mind so subtly that he did not realise what was happening.

Deroe, correctly interpreting Lyf’s inactivity as weakness, struck a ferocious blow. Lyf deflected the worst of it, yet it hurt him, and in reflex he hit back with the nerve-fire enchantment. It failed, as he should have known it would — Deroe was too subtle a foe to be caught by the same spell twice.

He’s crumbling, ha, ha! Deroe hooted like a schoolboy and attacked with seven spells at once, spending power promiscuously to overwhelm his enemy.

Suddenly, even as Lyf sensed Tali reaching out for his nuclix, he was fighting for his life. Every instinct screamed at him to withdraw and run, but he had to maintain his defences and go slowly, slowly. Deroe must not realise what was going on.

Lyf sneaked through a low blow and the magian howled, but did not retreat behind his barriers this time. The advantage was his, and if he kept up the assault it was only a matter of minutes.

Then Lyf saw Tali’s fingers close over his nuclix and it went to her with a little sigh. Catastrophe was only a breath away. He thought furiously. Even if she stole his pearl, she did not know how to use it. And it was a long way out of the cavern; an even longer way back to Caulderon. The worst could not happen. But what if it did?

The facinore should be close to the caverns by now. So profane a creature could not enter the Abysm, but the moment Tali emerged with the pearl she must be taken. Lyf directed his failing strength into a command to the facinore. A command he prayed it would obey.

Find the host. Hold her.

Do not feed!

CHAPTER 81

The blood moon broke free of racing clouds, illuminating a body — no, two bodies — sprawled ten yards away up the long rubble slope leading to the cave mouth. The broken rock was stained all around, as though the blood had burst forth when the victims were torn open.

Rannilt was gasping, in, in, in with never an out-breath to balance. Tobry went so still in the saddle he might have frozen to it.

Too late, Rix thought bleakly, and it was his stupid fault. Why, after the revelation about the ebony pearls, hadn’t he gone after Tali at once? She had been in such a state that she was bound to do something reckless, like racing off to rescue Rannilt from the chancellor. And the chancellor was utterly single-minded. To protect Hightspall he would use anyone, even Tali. He would cast her into any danger to give himself a tiny advantage, then discard her wreckage afterwards.

Rannilt let out a despairing cry and tried to throw herself from the saddle. Tobry clamped his arm around her. She jammed an elbow into his belly, squirmed under his arm and dropped to the ground.

Rix leapt after her to shield her from the dreadful sight, but she was too quick for him. She scrabbled up the slope on hands and knees, rubble clattering behind her, then froze, staring. The first body was a tall, broad- shouldered woman, the second a smaller one with dark, curly hair, and both had been opened at the belly as if their attacker had feasted on their living organs, then left them. Nothing else had been touched.

‘Facinore did this!’ whispered Rannilt, shedding tears that froze as they fell and shattered to jewel-like shards of ice with the lustre of gold.

‘I’ve seen her before,’ said Tobry, bending over the dark-haired woman as the moonlight waxed and waned. ‘She was one of the chancellor’s most trusted guards, and almost in your class with a blade, Rix.’ He gave a convulsive shudder.

Rix gripped him by the shoulder. Tobry had vowed to never come back here. ‘How far behind are we?’

Tobry checked the bodies. ‘There’s a trace of warmth left. Doubt if they’ve been dead an hour.’

‘An hour’s a long time when you’re up against a facinore. Can you still see the threads, Rannilt?’

Her dark eyes showed white all around. She nodded but did not speak. Tobry took her hand and they went up the rubble slope and in. Despite the cold, which became fiercer with every step, the stone basin was unfrozen. Rannilt turned towards it, as if to drink, but before Rix could warn her she threw up her hands and backed away.

‘What is it, child?’ said Tobry. ‘What can you see?’

‘Mad patterns.’ They passed by. Something squelched underfoot. ‘What’s that horrible smell?’

‘Shifter dung,’ said Rix, scraping it off his boot on a projecting rock. The back of the cave, and the cavern beyond it, reeked of their manure. Were the shifters from the pens below roaming free? ‘I’ve got an unpleasant feeling we’re being watched.’

Tobry’s jaw was clenched tightly enough to crack his teeth. Why was he so afraid of shifters? Was it the fear of becoming one, like Tobry’s grandfather who had brought House Lagger to ruin? Rix had never asked about the details and Tobry had not volunteered them.

Some friend I am, Rix thought bleakly. He’s always supported me, and what have I ever done for him? How can I do this to him again?

The fear was contagious. Rannilt was clinging to Tobry’s hand now, looking anxiously up at him. Rix swallowed. Lyf had nearly beaten them here last time and, down in his lair, close to his ebony pearl, he must be far more powerful. He had tried to possess Tobry and take control of him more than once. What if he succeeded?

Why are all my choices so bad, Rix wondered. I can only save the chancellor, and perhaps Hightspall, by