circle, tearing at her coat and shirt, ripping it in her desperation. She got her hands inside, pulled out her pliance and jerked the chain so hard that it snapped. She threw her pliance onto the floor and leaned against one of the rose-crystal wards, panting. A trail of smoke wisped up from her shirt.
Fusshte was hanging over the embrasure, mouth gaping open. He flung a metal goblet at Nish, but it missed. Nish hauled the net up and over Tiaan’s head. Only her arm to go.
The circle of ward-mancers wailed and collapsed. Only Tiaan’s arm and wrist, and the amplimet, were covered. Just the platinum mesh bunched around her arm held the amplimet back. She whipped her arm out and the crystal, in a roaring, cataclysmic crescendo, drove for the third stage of awakening it so urgently craved.
The skin of Tiaan’s fingers began to smoke but she was in such ecstasy that she wasn’t aware of it. Nish stood frozen in horror, thinking that it was going to anthracise them both, like the gruesome remnants all around. He threw his good arm around Tiaan’s chest, crushing her against him, and even tried to hold her with the broken one. Tiaan struggled listlessly.
‘Irisis, the box!’ he screeched.
In a wild instant, reality was overturned. Irisis took one step towards Nish and fell into the floor. Waves passed through the walls, floor and ceiling as if they were rubber. The solid walls became transparent, revealing the shadowy, sliced-up jumble that was the rest of Nennifer. It seemed to stretch to infinity like reflections in a pair of mirrors.
Irisis caught hold of Nish’s trailing cloak and pulled herself out. Parts of the floor were solid, other parts like jelly. She turned towards Tiaan, though it was like trying to push against a hurricane. Irisis leaned forward into the blast, put her head down and forced with all her strength.
Something rang off Nish’s skull and a soldier’s metal helm clattered onto the floor – Fusshte again. Nish staggered under the blow but didn’t look up. He just concentrated on holding Tiaan.
Irisis was nearly there. Tiaan began to struggle furiously, to kick and scream. Irisis reached out and caught her by the coat, dragging Tiaan and Nish to her. She tried to pull down Tiaan’s arm but it was as straight and hard as a metal rod. Tiaan belaboured Irisis with her other hand, stabbing at her face with stiff fingers. One blow caught Irisis in the eye and she gasped and had to let go.
Tiaan tried to wriggle free. She slipped in Nish’s grasp and in desperation he butted his head at the inside of her elbow. Her arm folded, the amplimet fell from her numb fingers and Irisis scooped it out of mid-air, thrust it into the platinum box and slammed the lid down.
The tension, and the impossibilities, cut off abruptly. All the lights went out in Nennifer as the Art that sustained it failed. Tiaan’s knees collapsed and she subsided gently on the rubble, wailing as if her heart was broken. The moon shone down through the dome onto the still, silent figures in the centre and the ring of ward-mancers crumpled around the periphery. Everyone was waiting for something to happen.
‘Now what?’ said Nish, hanging onto Irisis to prevent himself from falling.
‘The ward-mancers are free to use power without risking instant annihilation. Fusshte too. They’ll try to get the box.’
‘Take it!’ shouted Fusshte.
Nish prepared for the hopeless defence, but the fifteen ward-mancers came to their shaky knees and began to crawl away.
‘What are you doing?’ screamed Fusshte. ‘Attack them. Kill them and bring the box to me.’
The ward-mancers took no notice. They kept on crawling towards the door, head to tail like a line of caterpillars on a branch.
‘He asked too much of them,’ said Irisis. ‘They’ve broken. We’ve got a chance. Come on.’
Before he could move, Scrutator Fusshte stood up on the sill of the embrasure, a rope in his hands, preparing to slide down. Nish watched helplessly. He couldn’t fight scrutator magic and, with the amplimet at the third stage, he dared not open the box.
Fusshte had one leg over the side when a bloody, wild-eyed Flydd hurled himself through the door. He stopped there and Fusshte did too, staring at him. The crawling ward-mancers froze.
Flydd hobbled across the chamber and extended his hand. After a long hesitation, Irisis put the platinum box in it and Flydd raised his arm, holding the box high. Fusshte’s eyes followed it but