I knew First Clan had survived and I would not abandon them, whatever it cost my own reputation.’
Vithis looked up through the hole at the sky, or perhaps the limitless void. For a moment Irisis saw the nobility in him, the dreams he’d nurtured before life had crushed them one by one.
‘You did the right thing,’ said Malien. ‘Will you come to view the bodies, name those you know and record how they lived and died?’
‘I knew every one of my people, and I will send them off with all the honour that is their due. Let us waste no time.’
On the way down Vithis opened a door and said, ‘Come out, lad. You were in Tirthrax at the beginning. You might as well see the end.’
A small man came through the door, rather warily, and he was so covered in dust that at first Irisis did not recognise him. When she did, Irisis, who prided herself on her control, let out a shriek and ran.
‘Nish!’ She threw her arms around him, lifted him in the air and whirled him around in a circle. ‘I was sure the lyrinx had eaten you. What are you doing here?’ She couldn’t restrain her tears, which spotted his dusty face. She kissed them away, smudging her lips and cheek.
Nish hugged her back. ‘It would take a day to tell you.’
As they went out the main doors towards the thapter, Irisis, who had her arm linked through Nish’s, heard a distinctive clicking sound, like a metal-shod crutch on stone. She eased him to a stop. Just ahead, Tiaan had frozen. She rotated in place like a statue on a pedestal, and could not conceal her horror.
A haggard, aged Minis emerged from the front door, moving painfully on his crutches. He saw Tiaan standing there and his face lit up. His joy brought a lump to Irisis’s throat.
She glanced at Tiaan, despite herself half hoping to see it reflected there. It wasn’t. Whatever Tiaan was feeling at that moment – horror at the extent of his injuries, compassion, guilt perhaps – it wasn’t the naked adoration shining from Minis. She may have loved him once but it was gone forever.
Minis strained forward on his crutches as if he could compel her to love him in return, but as it became clear that she did not, would not, could not, the seams of his face deepened, his shoulders dropped and he sagged onto his crutches with a groan of despair.
Vithis had also turned. He looked from one to the other and his face hardened. ‘What did you expect?’ he said harshly. ‘Come, Foster-son. I’m all you have left.’
Irisis couldn’t watch any more. ‘Let’s go,’ she whispered to Nish. ‘This is none of our business.’
She led him around the other side of the thapter and they climbed in and settled companionably on the lower floor, in a shaded corner. Irisis linked her arm through his again. ‘Now tell me everything. Don’t leave out the tiniest detail.’
SEVENTY-ONE
‘Take the controller,’ Malien said, ushering Tiaan toward the thapter.
‘I’m not sure I can.’ Tiaan’s knees were shaking.
‘I think it’s best. It’ll give you something to do.’
‘I thought you wanted me to talk to Minis?’
‘You can’t do that in a crowded thapter. Time enough after the dead have been dealt with.’
Vithis climbed in, followed by ten Aachim – the other clan leaders and Matah Urien – there to set down the fate of First Clan and see the dead laid to rest. Minis came last, and when no one moved to help him up the ladder, Tiaan went to do so.
‘Don’t take away the little self-respect he has left!’ said Vithis.
She returned to the controller and fastened her straps. Minis struggled in and she could feel his feverish eyes on her. It was a relief when he went below with the others. Malien had gone down too.
‘Lift off!’ rasped Vithis.
She did so, as jerkily as a novice. He stood beside her, shuddering with such suppressed emotions that Tiaan began to think he would strike her down and seize the controller for himself.
They travelled in silence, for Tiaan could think of nothing to say to him, and he, it appeared, did not trust himself to speak.
An hour into the flight, Nish came up the ladder and Tiaan had never been more glad to see him. The uncomfortable silence stretched out. Shortly they saw ahead the solitary tower, like red balls on a skewer, which the Aachim had constructed on the pinnacle in the