have oil and water, the oil will float on the water. If you have lighter gas and air, the lighter gas will float on the air. Do you see now?'
'Maybe,' said Hearst.
He examined the thin vein-structure of the wings. 473 which remained even though the actual tissue of the wings was gone.
'It looks clumsy,' said Hearst.
'You forget the tail,' said Miphon. 'That's very mobile. It's armed with poison. It can move fast as a bullock- whip. It's said the tail's sometimes fast enough to deflect a crossbow bolt.'
'What damage could a crossbow do anyway to a thing this size?' said Hearst.
'With a quarrel through the ribs, all the gas goes out from the inside,' said Miphon. 'Then the Neversh can't fly. It falls.'
'Why doesn't it fly higher? Out of range of crossbows?'
'The higher it goes, the more danger of meeting a high-flying wind that would blow it away,' said Miphon. 'Because they're so light, the Neversh have trouble controlling their own mass in flight. That's one reason why mountains are a good barrier against the Swarms. Most of the ones that live on the ground, like keflos, can't climb very well over rocks, and the Neversh get blown away by the updrafts you find in the mountains.'
'It's absurd for a flying creature to fly so badly,' said Hearst.
'Perhaps,' said Blackwood, 'But we've got an insect like this in Estar.'
'An insect? I didn't see it,' said Hearst.
'It was there to be seen, all the same,' said Blackwood. 'It's called the hubble fly. It has to puff itself up with air before it can fly – though it uses just ordinary air, none of this fancy lighter gas you've been talking about. Then when it flies it's very clumsy. It's about the size of my thumb.'
'There are lots of things that fly that don't do it very well,' said Miphon. 'Chickens, for one thing. Anyway, the Neversh came long ago from the deserts of the Deep South. They've got no trouble with mountains there.'
Hearst struck at one of the ribs with his sword, then sheathed his blade.
'Pity the poor hubble fly,' said Hearst. 'Too big and clumsy to fly properly.'
He spoke lightly, but could not suppress a memory he had inherited from the wizard Phyphor. Twisted shapes against the sky, twisted screams in the noon-day sun. Words of power. A blast of flame. The darkest fears of nightmare animated by the full power of day. Some broke, some ran. Some stayed to stand against the Neversh…
If war broke out between the orders of wizards, and they failed to guard the flame trench Drangsturm, the Swarms would spread north as they had in the days of the Long War. They would soon reach Narba, then would follow the Salt Road north. Before long, they would be at Selzirk. The very thought of it was nightmarish.
At dayfail, they camped; they were still seven leagues from the Castle of Controlling Power. Here, close to Drangsturm, the Salt Road ran beside the sea.
'Would it be safe to have a fire this close to the castle?' said Hearst.
'Of course,' said Miphon. 'Landguard patrols are always out and about in the countryside. Nobody will think it odd if they happen to see a fire here.'
They gathered driftwood from the beach in the gloaming then lit a fire. From the shadows of an island to the west, a pinprick of fire answered their own.
'There's someone on that island,' said Hearst.
'That's Burntos,' said Miphon. 'The Landguard keeps a permanent garrison there, because the Neversh sometimes fly out to the west, skirting round the end of Drangsturm, trying not to be seen. Often the Neversh rest on that island.'
Waves from the darkened sea tumbled up the beach, roiling seaweed, shells, barnacles and bones with armoured remnants of creatures of the Swarms.
'Will we be safe tonight?' said Blackwood.
'From the Swarms, yes,' said Miphon. 'None of those creatures moves in the hours of darkness.'
That night, the southern horizon was lit by a red glow; the flames of the Great Dyke, Drangsturm, illuminated the clouds. The next morning, drawing closer to the flame trench, the travellers began to hear its steady, regular, rumbling roar.
Then the Castle of Controlling Power came in sight, a chaotic farrago of spires, battlements and buttresses swirling around the central sky-punching upthrust of the Prime Tower. Hearst, who had previously consulted Phyphor's memories of the castle, had thought them jumbled and distorted beyond belief; he was shocked to find the castle matched the anarchic memories precisely.
'When we get to the castle,' said Miphon, 'let me speak for ail of us.'
'Agreed,' said Hearst.
He scarcely saw the blue ocean, the dull landscape, the stones of the Salt Road. All his attention was taken by the bizarre architectural monstrosity ahead of him, the product of eight orders of wizards, each with different ideas as to what should be built, finally raising a monument to ego that would, surely, have been enough to send any sensible draughtsman insane.
'Are you impressed?' said Miphon. it would look good if it was made of marzipan,' said Hearst, trying to make some sense out of a particularly confused array of gates, bridges, moats, arches and overhangs.
'So it's not your style,' said Miphon.
'Whose nightmare was the guiding inspiration?' it's not that bad,' said Miphon. isn't it?' said Hearst.
'Wizards are not warriors,' said Blackwood. 476 'When did you find that out?' said Hearst, his tone bantering. 'Certainly wizards are not warriors. No lighting man would build a monstrosity like that.'
'Still, you are impressed, aren't you?' said Miphon.
'Yes,' said Hearst. 'Insanity on a grand scale can be impressive. And this is. After Chi'ash-lan, I thought stonework could surprise me no further. At Stronghold Handfast I learnt otherwise: and now I've been proved twice wrong.'
They marched on to the main gate of the castle. Each of the eight orders had built itself a gate; the main gate, built by the order of Oparatu, was the one which had proved most convenient for travellers coming from the Salt Road.
At the main gate they were met by a detachment of the Landguard dressed in ceremonial skyblue uniforms. They were challenged; Miphon identified himself, naming Blackwood and Hearst as his servants, to get them into the castle without argument. The head of the guard gave them permission to enter. i wish to find the head of the Confederation,' said Miphon. i have urgent business. Who fills that position this month? And where will I find him?'
'This month it's Brother Fern Feathers of the order of Seth,' said the head of the guard. 'You'll find him in the Chamber of Communal Consent.'
'Why there?' said Miphon. is there a general gathering?'
'There is,' said the guard. 'There has been each and every day for the last forty-two days.'
'Forty-two days! That's unheard of! What's happening?'
'You tell me, then we'll both know. And I'd truly love to be told. Any truth, no matter how bad, would be better than the rumours we're living with. I don't deal in rumours – not me. But I hear them, all the same. The latest, master, says contagious madness is loose in the castle.'
'That's impossible,' said Miphon.
T know,' said the trooper. 'But many of my men have deserted because of that rumour. We must have a truth, and soon.'
'I'll deliver a truth to you myself,' said Miphon. 'Today.'
'Good. My name is Karendor of the Silk, but if you're asking your way from one of my gutter-mouthed men, ask for Old Bootstrap.'
There was suppressed laughter amongst the men of Karendor's Landguard detachment. iil be in the Meneren barracks if I'm not here,' said Karendor.
'I'll find you,' promised Miphon, and led Hearst and Blackwood into the depths of the Castle of Controlling Tower.
