way, at least a hundred and twenty leagues underground, through one system of caverns after another. Many a marvel I saw that no man has seen before, and in the end I found them, hibernating in groups of thousands, unguarded apart from sentries at entrance and exit.
‘There were more lyrinx than I could count – thirty thousand at the very least, and there could be other groups I didn’t find. They’re hiding three hundred spans underground not far from the abandoned town of Strebbit. They’ll be coming out of hibernation any time now. They’re less than a night’s march from Worm Wood, the perfect cloak for their movements, and they’ll be ready to attack within weeks. Once they reach the forest they can go anywhere, unseen.’
Flydd swore. ‘I’d assumed they would come from the coast, and that we’d hear of their march a good week in advance.’
‘What do we do now?’ said Yggur.
‘We must attack them the moment they come out,’ said Klarm.
‘How do we know where they’re going to come out?’ said Flydd. ‘If my memory serves me, those caves have dozens of outlets.’
‘But the cavern they’re hibernating in has only one dry exit,’ said Klarm. ‘All the connecting caverns are partly flooded. Their elixir allowed them to endure the terror of the water, but I’m betting they’ll avoid it on the way out. All elixirs take their toll and they won’t want to be suffering from it on their way to war.’
Klarm’s voice went hoarse. He drained his beer, licked the foam from the rim of the tankard, and filled it again.
‘The dry passage opens out into a natural bowl.’ He shaped it in the air with his hands. ‘If we can get our forces into position in time, we can ambush them as they come out, still sluggish from hibernation.’
‘And if they retreat?’ said Flydd, smiling as if he already knew the answer.
‘We drive them into the underground streams and cut them down in their panic.’
‘Have you been in contact with General Troist?’ asked Yggur.
‘I have, and he gave me heart. His troops are well armed, well trained, and he has supplies stockpiled. Moreover, he has a keen eye for the weaknesses of the enemy and how best to attack them.’
Yggur looked questioningly at Flydd. Flydd nodded.
‘If they take Borgistry,’ said Yggur, ‘western Lauralin must fall and then sooner or later the whole continent will be lost. But while Borgistry survives, the enemy can’t control the west. We’ll do it.’
‘How soon can we be ready to strike?’ said Flydd. He went over to study the map that covered half of one wall. Yggur joined him, measuring distances with a length of string. ‘Troist could be there in nine days.’
‘Two weeks for us,’ said Nish. ‘All the thapters need work, and three of the air-floaters. They can’t go to war the way they are.’
‘Two weeks!’ Flydd cried. ‘What if the enemy come out sooner? Why do they hibernate anyway? Merryl?’
‘In order to survive in the void,’ said Merryl, ‘they flesh-formed their unborn to the limit. They made themselves the most formidable fighters ever seen, but it came at a cost. They have to hibernate for at least a month every year to repair the damage the past year has caused.’
‘So it’s a necessity, not just a custom,’ mused Flydd. ‘Good – all the less likely that they’ll cut it short. Even so, we’ve got to be ready sooner.’
‘Well, Nish?’ said Yggur.
‘If all our work goes perfectly,’ Nish said, ‘and we get just the right weather when we’re flying, we might be ready to attack in ten or eleven days. But things never go perfectly, so I can’t possibly promise less than twelve.’
‘Perfect!’ Flydd conferred with Klarm and Yggur. ‘A strike in ten days will catch them still lethargic from hibernation.’
‘But I just said –’ Nish began desperately. Allowing three days for the slow air-floaters to fly there, it meant he only had seven days rather than the nine or ten he needed.
‘The attack is set for ten days. Be ready!’
The first thapter flight left eight days later, and Yggur wasn’t pleased at the delay. It carried Klarm, an advance guard and a number of devices that had been made in the eastern manufactories. The destination was an isolated valley north-east of Strebbit, where everyone would rendezvous with Troist’s army, then march down to encircle the bowl-shaped depression in which the cave mouth lay.
Now it was the following day, and Nish hadn’t slept for two nights. One of the