returned with a small, black-haired goat which she skinned and ate, bones, entrails and all.
Once she’d licked the blood off her chin and hands, Liett freed Nish’s hands and tossed a freshly skinned rabbit at him. It hit him wetly in the chest and fell to the dirt.
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ he said.
‘It’s all the dinner you’re getting.’
‘But it’s raw!’
She took it back and ate it with a few appreciative gulps, head and all. She retied his hands, lay down and went to sleep. Nish didn’t sleep a wink. Before dawn they were off again, and eventually he recognised the long expanse of Warde Yallock, the largest lake in Lauralin.
Near the northern end of the lake she wheeled over the water several times before flying into a cave among hundreds that honeycombed vertical cliffs a hundred spans high. At the entrance she set Nish down while she folded her wings. He looked over the drop and his stomach churned. It was possible to climb up or down, if you were a lyrinx with clawed feet and hands, or fly in and out. Since he couldn’t do either, the place was as secure as any prison.
Liett spoke to the guard by the entrance, who pointed around the corner to the next cave. Taking Nish under one gamy arm she climbed across the sheer rock face and inside. Not far from the entrance, working in the light, was a wingless male who was also vaguely familiar.
On seeing Liett the male’s maw split into a smile of delighted surprise. He came striding out, arms spread, but Liett, scowling, thrust him away. After a heated exchange in the lyrinx tongue she threw Nish at the male, ran back to the entrance and hurled herself out. Her wings cracked and she raced away.
The wingless male stared after her, his skin colours flickering as if bemused, then turned to Nish. ‘My name is Ryll,’ he said, in an accent not dissimilar to Nish’s own. ‘And you, I’m told, are Cryl-Nish Hlar, son of the Scrutator Jal-Nish Hlar.’
‘He was my father,’ Nish said coldly, ‘until you ate him.’
‘I ate your father?’ said Ryll. ‘I don’t think so, human. I would have recognised him.’
‘Not you personally. Your people ate him at the battle of Gumby Marth.’
‘Did they? I was not there. I’m sorry for the loss of your father, Cryl-Nish. I lost my own when I was young.’
‘It was a mercy,’ Nish muttered. ‘After what you did to him two years ago, before you carried Tiaan away on that flying wing, he was never free of pain.’
Ryll inspected Nish. ‘I recognise you now – small but valiant. You’ve grown face hair since our last encounter. As for your father, we fought each other and I did no more than he would have done to me.’ Ryll spoke mildly, almost kindly, with none of the passion that characterised Liett. ‘I hate this war as much as you do, human.’
‘You started it!’
‘Our records tell otherwise,’ Ryll said. ‘Still, we’re not here to debate history, but for you to tell me everything you know about the plans of your leaders. Why did Gilhaelith the tetrarch steal our relics?’
‘I haven’t got the faintest idea.’
‘Come, Cryl-Nish, you were with him at the time. You laid down your life so that he could escape.’
‘We are at war,’ said Nish. ‘But I know no more than his parting message to Gyrull –’
‘Matriarch Gyrull! Show respect, human.’
‘Matriarch Gyrull. I’m sorry. Not everyone trusts Gilhaelith. Some people think he’s on your side.’
Ryll let out what could only be interpreted as a honk of derision.
‘He traded with lyrinx for many years,’ said Nish. ‘He helped you in Snizort and worked with you in Alcifer.’
‘We did not find him entirely trustworthy at Snizort. Thereafter he attempted to make deals with us, and sold us one or other worthless secrets in exchange for his living, but he never worked for us. Indeed, I planned to send him to the slaughtering pens once he was no further use, though only a very hungry lyrinx would have gnawed on his rank bones.’
‘I thought you lyrinx would eat anything,’ said Nish thoughtlessly.
‘And I thought you humans were treacherous, murdering scum,’ said Ryll in his unemotional way, ‘until I met Tiaan and discovered that humans could also be decent and honourable. There’s a lesson for both our peoples. Anyway, we no longer eat humans. Enough of philosophy – how did you know our Wise Mother had the relics?’