Chimaera - Ian Irvine Page 0,153

to shut out the light.

The wind was blasting at them and Malien did not hear. ‘Malien!’ Tiaan screamed.

Malien’s head appeared up through the hatch. ‘Tiaan, what is it?’

‘I don’t feel well. Can you go down?’

‘We’re over the sea. I’ll have to turn back to the Foshorn.’

They landed on a grey, wind-tossed plateau overlooking the Sea of Thurkad. As the thapter came down it crushed the salty shrubs, releasing pungent herb oils that were like a tonic to her abused senses. Tiaan hung over the side, panting.

Malien climbed up to her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I … don’t know. The field –’

Malien helped her into the shade by the side of the machine. ‘You’ve been overdoing it. Come inside. You can lie down in the dark and sleep all the way to Fiz Gorgo if you need to. It’s only two days, with this wind behind us.’

‘I’m not ill,’ said Tiaan shakily. ‘I feel all right now, but I sensed something strange up ahead.’

Flydd came down the ladder, rubbing stiff joints. He looked as though he’d been asleep. ‘What did you feel?’ He squatted beside her.

‘A monster node, bigger than the one at Tirthrax, but its field was unlike any I’ve ever sensed before. And there was something else.’

‘I don’t see why a field should trouble you,’ said Flydd, ‘no matter how huge.’

‘I’m sorry – I’m not explaining it very well. It felt dangerous.’

‘That’s easily dealt with,’ said Malien, smiling. ‘We won’t go near it. Let’s get you inside.’

‘Something isn’t right,’ said Tiaan. ‘I have to put it on my map.’

Malien and Flydd exchanged glances. ‘I don’t think –’ Flydd began.

‘I must,’ Tiaan insisted. ‘If something’s wrong, I’ve got to see it.’

‘All right,’ said Malien. ‘We’ll go down to the tip of the Foshorn.’ Then, unaccountably, she shivered.

‘There, you’re feeling its wrongness too,’ said Tiaan.

‘Not at all,’ said Malien. ‘Just remembering the last time I was there.’ She did not elaborate.

‘Go carefully,’ said Flydd, giving her another meaningful look.

Malien withdrew the amplimet and Flydd closed the lid of the platinum box over it. She made adjustments to the way she controlled the thapter, to make up for not using the amplimet, and lifted off, just skimming the shore. The field of the monster node grew in Tiaan’s mind until it swirled all around her.

‘Can’t you see it?’ she said to Malien, who did not seem to be troubled now.

‘I’ve never been able to see the field; at least, not the way you do.’

‘Really?’ Tiaan was astonished. ‘Then how can you use the thapter?’

‘My Art is very different to the Arts that other mancers use. I think I mentioned that once. I know where power is, and using this controller I can draw upon it, but I don’t see anything.’

‘So what’s at the other end of the Foshorn?’

‘The Hornrace, a chasm five hundred spans deep that separates Faranda from the continent of Lauralin. I’m sure you’ve heard it mentioned in the Great Tales. The chasm was once spanned by the Rainbow Bridge, the most beautiful of all our works on Santhenar, but it was thrown down by Rulke during the Clysm. He caused the very earth of the Foshorn to move, tearing the Rainbow Bridge asunder and toppling it into the chasm. The remains of the bridge can still be seen, tangled up in the rocks of the Trihorn Falls at the eastern end of the Hornrace. Only the four pillars of the bridge still stand, to remind us of what we have lost. I never thought I’d see them again.’

‘They must be mighty falls,’ said Tiaan.

‘Indeed, for the Foshorn is like a dam holding back the weight of the Sea of Thurkad and the Western Ocean behind it. The bed of the Dry Sea lies two thousand spans below the Sea of Thurkad, which has a powerful urge to reclaim it. The water races down the Hornrace as fast as this thapter can fly, but compared to the vastness of the Dry Sea it’s no more than a dribble down a lunatic’s chin.’

‘Perhaps I’m seeing a node associated with the chasm,’ said Tiaan. ‘No wonder it’s so huge, and so different.’

‘No wonder,’ said Malien, though there was a wary look in her eye. ‘Let’s see.’

They kept to a slow pace in order to lessen the strain, so it was late in the afternoon before they finally came in sight of the Hornrace. The thapter crept along the coast, which was incredibly rugged here, the mountains rising directly from the sea. They passed

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