'Their great project is not yet complete, and that they are determined to do. The defenders will fight to make time for it, to the last drop of their purple blood. The battle is going to be vicious.'

'Our people are already dying,' said Tiaan. 'And these torgnadrs will destroy many more. My My torgnadrs. I'm sick of being used, Merryl.' torgnadrs. I'm sick of being used, Merryl.'

'There's nothing you could have done.'

'If I ever get the chance,' she vowed, 'I'll smash the amplimet to pieces. I would destroy every node on Santhenar if it would only stop this endless war. I mean it, Merryl.' As she spoke, the amplimet flared, then faded, and the skin-creeping feeling reappeared.

'I know you do, but there are no simple answers.'

'I don't care.' If the field was gone, both clankers and torgnadrs would be useless, and no one would want to use her either. She just wanted to be ordinary; anonymous.

Ryll came hurtling through the door. 'Begone, Tutor!'

The patterning continued, now with breaks of just hours in between. Her skin chafed constantly, she could not sleep and Tiaan was struck by an old fear that she'd not thought about in her weeks here what the amplimet was up to. That sudden surge, and the earlier pulsing, suggested that it was watching her. It might not let her destroy it.

'There's not time!' Ryll said to Liett several days later. 'We can't fail now. Not so close.' He looked desperate.

The shocks became more frequent. They had been going on for three days, judging by her sleeps. The lyrinx panic grew. Ryll forced the patterning so hard and fast that Tiaan began to have a hallucination. For a few seconds the stone walls thinned to transparency and she saw lyrinx and humans struggling in a long black tunnel. Gilhaelith was among them.

Her viewpoint drifted outside her body. She could see right through the patterner, and her own flesh, to her bones. A hot yellow glow throbbed in the middle, where her back had been broken.

After another hallucination, Ryll realised that she could be driven no further that day. The torgnadr almost filled the bucket, but was still immature. He ended the session but left Tiaan in the patterner. She had been inside for more than a day now.

'Take me out,' she said exhaustedly. 'It feels like beetles are crawling over my skin.' Even with the mask gone, things still seemed strange.

Ryll looked equally worn and, for the first time, showed no skin colour at all. 'We must begin again in three hours.' He held a mug to her mouth.

She gulped it, eager for the oblivion of sleep, but in her dreams the faulty torgnadr was fountaining sparks like a firework. Tiaan was shaken awake. It was deadly wrong, but she could not tell why.

The room shook again, followed by a dull boom. Sand rained down on her hair and, as the shuddering continued, chunks of sandstone began to fall. One smashed a gla.s.s bucket further along the row. A line of tar filled a crack in the wall beside her.

A ma.s.sive blow shook the room, making the walls quiver like the muck she was suspended in. Lyrinx raced back and forth, yelling and skin-speaking all the colours of the spectrum. A gaggle of humans fled past the open door, including the man with the withered shoulder, urged on by a lyrinx carrying a prod. Ryll raced up the row to Tiaan, but before he reached her Old Hyull roared at him from the doorway. Ryll's eyes met hers. He flashed distress patterns, then pulled the jelly mask over her head.

'Ryll?' she screamed. 'What's going on?' Too late. The mask cut everything off and the patterning resumed, though it did not seem to be working properly. The flow of power kept fluctuating wildly. Was it failing?

Thump! She wanted to scream but couldn't the patterning had become one continuous hallucination. Battle scenes crashed through her mind: clankers firing blazing missiles over the walls of Snizort; a squad of human soldiers being beaten back by a single, blood-drenched lyrinx; a tar bog ablaze, flames reflecting on it like a black mirror. She wanted to scream but couldn't the patterning had become one continuous hallucination. Battle scenes crashed through her mind: clankers firing blazing missiles over the walls of Snizort; a squad of human soldiers being beaten back by a single, blood-drenched lyrinx; a tar bog ablaze, flames reflecting on it like a black mirror. Thump! Thump!

Abruptly the mask was ripped from her head and the hallucinations vanished. A strange lyrinx thrust his face at her, grunted and turned away, taking the immature torgnadr. Chunks of roof were falling all around. There was confusion everywhere. The women in the patterners were screaming. Tiaan wanted to scream too.

Thump, thump, thump. She caught sight of Liett down the far end. 'Liett?'

She was running along the line of patterners, slamming her fist on the release levers. The top of each sprang open. She was about to do Tiaan's when a lyrinx yelled at her from the doorway. Liett lifted Tiaan halfway out but the other lyrinx roared an order. Liett let Tiaan go and ran.

Silence fell, broken by repeated shockwaves that rattled the tops of the patterners and shook down more of the roof. Along her row a woman began to push herself out. She emerged slowly, her big muscular body glistening with muck. After shaking herself, she sprang up on the next patterner and heaved the occupant out. Each then went to another machine. Within minutes, fifteen women and two men, everyone except Tiaan, had been released.

'Hey!' Tiaan yelled. 'What about me?'

The big woman tapped her legs and followed the others. They could not afford to carry anyone.

When Liett dropped her, Tiaan's arms had remained outside the patterner. Instinctively, she felt for the amplimet, and it was there! Ryll always put it around her neck before a patterning session and in the panic both Liett and the other lyrinx had forgotten to take it. As Tiaan touched it, she sensed the field swirling around Snizort like an exploding star. It was strangely deformed and bore a distinct signature that she recognised: the faulty torgnadr. Was the torgnadr deforming the field, or the amplimet deforming both? She did not want to find out.

Tiaan saw points of light in the field places where the lyrinx, and the human armies, were drawing on it. Another point was in this room, the drain from the patterners, though that was fading.

The field went whoomph whoomph, like a furnace pumped by a bellows, then dropped to nothing before flaring up again. Something was terribly wrong. Had too much been taken from the node? The draw from all those clankers outside must be monumental. If the node went dead ...

She tried to push herself out but the muck had too much suction. Tiaan kicked feebly. It made no difference. She was trapped in the patterner. Laying her head on its flat top, she tried to resign herself to her fate. She was wondering what the manner of her death would be when the realisation struck Tiaan like a physical blow. Had she moved moved her legs? It must have been a hallucination. She tried to clench her toes and definitely felt them move. her legs? It must have been a hallucination. She tried to clench her toes and definitely felt them move.

Tiaan did not allow the hope soldiers sometimes felt their limbs years after they had been cut off. She kicked herself in the ankle, and felt it, as well as a pain in her toe. It was true! She could move, and feel pain. She was not a cripple any more. She would walk again some day. Soon Soon, if she could just get out.

Tiaan slid back down, her mind awhirl. So that's what Old Hyull had been doing. He'd put her in that other device to pattern, or more likely flesh-form, her severed spine together.

Had she been flesh-formed flesh-formed? Tiaan felt sick. Had they used part of some other creature to join the severed ends of her spinal cord? That aching point in her back now seemed to be swelling as if something lay inside, feeding on her. But she had her legs back and, for the moment at least, it seemed worth it.

Tiaan kept trying to push herself out but her arms did not have enough strength to break the suction. She rested her head on the top of the patterner and eventually, in spite of the continuing shocks, exhaustion overwhelmed her.

'Tiaan?'

She roused. It sounded like Merryl's voice. Tiaan opened her eyes. The patterning chamber was full of mist and the air smelled stale, as if the ventilation bellows had stopped working a long time ago.

'Merryl?'

He raced up the line of patterners. 'Tiaan, thank heavens I came back.'

Climbing up, he pulled her out easily, despite his missing hand. Merryl found some rags and she wiped the muck off while he looked for her clothes. Her skin was red and blistered all over.

'What's happening, Merryl?'

'The lyrinx were called out to the battle. It's a desperate struggle out there, and now something has gone wrong down below. There's smoke in the lower tunnels. The remaining lyrinx are abandoning Snizort.'

She wrapped her arms around herself, wary of trusting anyone, even Merryl. 'They just left me behind to die.'

'I'm sure that wasn't meant to happen.'

'Ryll abandoned me!'

'He was sent into battle. I was sure they would have taken you, with the other important prisoners, but in the panic ...'

'Do you know the way out?'

'Of course ... if I can get to it.'

She managed to dress herself, but her legs would not support her. He had to carry her and her precious pack. After some minutes, when he began to show the strain, she said, 'Leave me, Merryl. You can't carry me all the way.'

'I'm not going to leave you.'

'You'll die too.'

'I've faced that risk every day since I was captured. I'd sooner die than leave a friend behind.'

'I left mine behind,' she said. 'They were dead.'

They sat on the floor while he got his breath. 'That's a beautiful crystal,' he said.

She touched it. 'It's a special kind of hedron, an amplimet. It can power my walker do you know where that is?'

'In one of the storerooms near where you were brought in, I'd imagine. But if the field dies it won't be any use.'

'The amplimet is powerful enough to draw on a distant field.' If it could be trusted, and how could could she trust it? Only because it, too, must want a way out. The heat of the smallest fire would destroy it. she trust it? Only because it, too, must want a way out. The heat of the smallest fire would destroy it.

'Then let's see if we can find the walker. I think I know where to look.'

After many dark corridors and crowded storerooms they found it. Merryl helped Tiaan into the seat. She had done up the straps and was just reaching for power when there came a blast and roar that shook the floor and filled her ears with grit. The walker was thrown off its four feet, coming down on Merryl's thigh. He let out a gasp.

'Are you all right?' Tiaan was afraid she'd broken his leg.

He sat up and rolled the walker off. 'Just bruised.' He rubbed his thigh and winced.

Merryl was lifting Tiaan up when a storm of wind roared down the tunnel outside, banging the door of the storeroom. Dust whirled in the air. 'I don't like that, Tiaan. You'd better go.'

'What about you?' She wanted to run, to skip. After weeks when she could do nothing at all, she wanted to race down the tunnels like a child.

'I've one more person to find.'

'Can I help?'

'You probably couldn't get through, in the walker. If you go that way,' he pointed right, 'then left, left, right and left, you'll be on the long pa.s.sage to the exit into the main pit. I'm afraid for you, Tiaan. I'd go with you but I must look for another friend, and swiftly. Are you sure you can find the way?'

'I've a perfect memory for directions.'

Merryl smiled. His eyes seemed to be summing her up. He gave her his hand. 'After all I've heard about you, I expect you will. Good luck!'

'And you. I hope you find what your heart desires.'

He closed those dark eyes. 'An illusion, I expect, after so long as a slave. But freedom beckons.' He turned away.

Tiaan kept on, following his directions with an increasing sense of foreboding. The air was thicker and hotter here. She wondered how Gilhaelith was faring. He had always looked after himself, and no doubt the lyrinx would take good care of him. But at least he hadn't got the amplimet. Flawed and dangerous though it was, she had it still, and it was going to get her out of here.

She stopped the walker, suddenly uncertain if she was going in the right direction. The strangeness that had pervaded everything for days was stronger than ever here. The air was full of floating bubbles of tar, which was impossible, and the whole world seemed to be shaking.

Quite suddenly the strangeness vanished and she stood in a black tunnel where the tar was soft under the feet of the walker. Tiaan flexed her toes, just for the pleasure of feeling them. The tension grew she could feel it in her knotted stomach muscles; the p.r.i.c.kling in the backs of her hands; the dryness in her mouth.

Boom! The walker was hurled against the wall. Had it not been so soft she would have cracked her skull. A gale of sand blasted down the corridor. The rock, solid with tar, emitted tortured groans and with a booming crackle a slab slid across the corridor, partly blocking it. The walker was hurled against the wall. Had it not been so soft she would have cracked her skull. A gale of sand blasted down the corridor. The rock, solid with tar, emitted tortured groans and with a booming crackle a slab slid across the corridor, partly blocking it.

An even mightier explosion occurred inside her head, so bright that she almost pa.s.sed out. Coils of the field wrapped themselves around her skull, dancing in her eyes.

She groaned and shook her head, which was full of cobwebby mirages. Tearing the walker out of the wall, Tiaan continued but before long the air on her face grew warm, the stink of hot tar unbearable. She forced herself around the next corner. Ahead, a red glow danced on the walls. Black, deadly fumes crept along the floor. The tar was on fire.

She fled, retracing the walker's steps as fast as it would go. That was not very fast it was increasingly difficult to draw from the field. As she reached the place where the wall had fractured, red fire flickered in the fissures. Molten tar dripped in her path. Flame roared forth like the exhalations of a dragon. Forward or back, there was nowhere to go. Then she lost the field, and the walker died.

SIXTY-ONE.

Several nights after the scrutator's visit, Nish was lying in his tent, listening to a gentle rain pattering on the canvas, when a signal whistle piped. He did not move. The Aachim were constantly signalling to each other. It did not concern him. The brief hope he'd felt when the scrutator appeared was gone. He was still a prisoner, a p.a.w.n in a global struggle. His great plans had failed through no fault of his own.

There seemed to be a lot of activity outside, including the whine of hundreds of constructs. Something was going on. He was just slipping back to sleep when Minis crashed through the opening of the tent. 'Nish! Get up!'

'What's the matter?'

'We march to war against the lyrinx.'

Nish sat up. At last! 'How did this come about?'

'Last night your scrutator agreed to all our demands.'

Nish was shocked. For Flydd to capitulate, after that bitter scene with Vithis, humanity's position must have been hopeless. How Vithis must be crowing.

'Including giving up Tiaan?'

'Yes. Apparently your seeker has located her underground, within the eastern quarter of Snizort.' Minis began to unfasten the manacles.

'And Vithis has agreed to free me?'

'A long hesitation. 'Not exactly, though I'm sure if he thought about it ...'

'What is he going to do in return?' Nish was wondering what he could make out of the situation.

'Attack Snizort.'

'If the lyrinx learn he is after Tiaan,' Nish said carefully, 'and surely they must, it will not go well for her.'

Minis faded to white. 'What do you mean?'

'They will kill her, rather than allow anyone to gain the secret of flight.'

Minis pressed his head into his hands and shook it violently. In times of stress he was given to exaggerated gestures. 'We must save her, Nish.'

'I'm sure Vithis will be careful. Tiaan is no good to him dead.'

Minis's face cracked. Hurling himself across the tent, he wrung Nish's hands. 'Please, Nish. I'm desperate.'

Nish reached for his boots. 'What do you expect me to do?'

'Help me get her out of Snizort.'