it,’ said Irisis. ‘That’s the enemy just out there.’
He glanced that way and his red face paled. ‘So close. All right, Tiaan, the last effort. Ryll and Liett are using the power patterner. Take advantage of any weaknesses you’re aware of.’
Again the tiny hesitation before she said, ‘I’ll do my best.’
The struggle went on. The enemy had temporarily stalled but their numbers were overwhelming. The soldiers of the rearguard were fighting to the death to protect them and create a chance for everyone else. But the dead were piling up and the lyrinx must break through at any moment.
‘Call Troist,’ she yelled at the operator. ‘Tell him we’re still working.’
‘I have. He said his men can’t hold out any longer.’
‘Neither can we.’ Irisis held a cool drink to Flydd’s cracked lips and sponged his forehead with water. She offered a drink to Tiaan but Tiaan shook her head.
‘Mind-shocker, now!’ Flydd shouted to Yggur. ‘Irisis, keep an eye out. Tell me if it’s working.’
The air crackled as Yggur went to work, and Irisis felt a faint throb at the base of her skull, a momentary weakness in her limbs. Yggur was directing the mind-shocker so powerfully that even she could feel it.
Flydd was growing hoarse now and the cane wasn’t moving as quickly as before. Irisis glanced over her shoulder and saw the enemy for the first time. Troist’s line had broken.
‘I can see the enemy. To the thapter, surr!’
‘Wait!’ said Flydd, his teeth clenched so tightly she expected them to shatter. He choked out another set of numbers.
Tiaan’s fingers raced, then went still. She looked questioningly across to the scrutator, who wasn’t saying anything. He was staring at the farspeaker.
‘They’ve broken,’ Operator Daesmie said, her eyes glassy. She was drenched with sweat and Irisis realised that she had neglected Daesmie, who had been working for hours without a break. ‘They’ve broken, surr!’
Flydd lurched to his feet, looking around wildly.
‘No, surr,’ cried Daesmie. ‘The enemy have broken.’
‘Broken?’ Flydd whispered, unable to comprehend, much less believe that they had finally done it.
Yggur was slumped in his chair, utterly drained.
‘Come outside, surr,’ said Irisis. She helped him out, then signalled to Malien. ‘Take us up so we can see what’s going on.’
Yggur looked up as Flydd staggered by. ‘Well, Scrutator,’ he said in a hoarse rasp, ‘I’ve met my end of the bargain.’
‘And I will honour mine,’ said Flydd. ‘Though I’ve no idea how.’
The thapter slipped into the air. The enemy line had broken. The clankers equipped with mind-shockers had swung around in a curving line and the lyrinx were being pushed north, further out into the Dry Sea. Malien climbed higher. It was happening on the other side as well: another curve of clankers splitting the enemy in two around the human army and driving them out into the wasteland.
Flydd shook his head. ‘I never thought it was possible. Not for a second.’
‘But you never gave in, either,’ said Malien. ‘You’re quite a man, Scrutator.’
‘If only you knew the despair I give way to, in the dark each night after I’ve gone to bed.’
‘You’re not alone, Xervish Flydd. You’re not alone.’
SEVENTY
As soon as it became evident that they had mastery of the lyrinx, an open-air council of war was called to formally decide on the next step, the most momentous of the war. Irisis, sitting up the back with Malien and Tiaan, wasn’t looking forward to the debate.
‘The war will soon be over,’ said Flydd. ‘Our field controller now has control of most of the nodes within a forty-league semicircle of Ashmode. We’re slowly but progressively choking off their power patterner, and in a day or two it’ll be useless. The enemy can no longer fly. In two more days – three at the outside – they won’t be able to use any of their Arts.’
‘And there’s no way they can strike back?’ said Nisbeth.
‘They’re cut off from the shore by a circle of clankers armed with mind-shockers, and they can’t approach within half a league of them. They can’t escape. The only question remaining is – what do we do with them?’
‘We’ve had this argument before,’ said a purple-faced General Orgestre. The golden medals danced as he shifted position and Irisis noticed that he’d added another row since Flydd and Troist’s victory. Orgestre was a man who knew his priorities. ‘Exterminate them! It’s the only way we can ever be safe.’
‘But that would be genocide,’ said Gilhaelith, who still looked shaken from his day at the battlefront.