Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.) (64 page)

BOOK: Exodus of the Xandim (GOLLANCZ S.F.)
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Yet she couldn’t seem to drag herself from the window, and now Tinagen was at her side, unable to pull his own eyes away. She saw the Moldan mow down Sharalind’s forces with its
sinister axe; saw Yinze pull Avithan to safety. Saw that Iriana, who stood on the hilltop to the north of the city, seemed to have help already from two strangers. Then she saw the Moldan begin his
rampage. The southern promontory vanished in one axe blow, and he was heading towards the Ariel’s Tower headland.

She knew they would be next.

Already, as he drew closer, she could feel the building shaking, and a crack snaked up the study wall from floor to ceiling.

‘Quick,’ Tinagen shouted, grabbing her arm. ‘We’ve got to get everyone out.’

‘But where to? Where can they go?’ Melisanda said. ‘We haven’t the strength to apport those critical patients right out of the city – it’s too far from
here.’

As they fled out onto the landing and past the window that looked out onto the ocean, a movement, a flash of colour, caught her eye. ‘Tinagen,’ she cried, pointing at the fishing
fleet. ‘Could we shift them there?’

‘To a moving target? At that distance, heading away from us? Have you lost your mind?’

‘Is there any choice? Send the ambulatory ones away now, they must take their chances and get out of the city as best they can. If they stay on this side and get off the headland, they
might have a hope. But the bedridden ones are doomed unless we try something.’

Tinagen hesitated – but only for a heartbeat. ‘We’ll have to do it in teams then . . .’ While they had been talking, they’d been racing down the staircase to the
next floor. All the while the booming footsteps were coming closer. The Moldan must have been smashing and destroying as he went, or he would have already been here, but the whole building was
shaking now. Great cracks were appearing in the walls and the ceilings.

Tinagen stopped at the bottom of the stairs and flung out an arm. ‘Go that way and start with Incondor. We don’t want a political situation—’

His words were cut off in a shattering rumble and crash as the entire stairwell collapsed on top of him. Melisanda, already racing away to do his bidding, was enveloped in clouds of choking
dust, and spun to see the hallway half-filled with a pile of rubble. The death of her Luen Head hit her like a hammer-blow, driving her to her knees.

‘Tinagen!’ She gasped his name out on a sob, but there was no time for grieving now. Brushing tears away she got to her feet, braced her shoulders to take the load, and rushed away
to organise the Healers – her Healers now – shouting out instructions in mindspeech as she went. There might be little they could do and barely any time left, but they would do their
best to save what lives they could.

With Yinze close behind her, Kea reached the Dragon’s dwelling and wrenched open the rooftop door, gliding down into the spacious chamber below without bothering with the
stairs. She had seen the Moldan escape from the barriers that were confining it, and it was now laying about the city with its immense axe – far too close for comfort. Inside the building the
wide doorway that Atka used for an exit had been choked by falling debris when the adjacent structure had collapsed, and there was no way out for her. Her golden scales dulled by a film of dust,
she was curled protectively around a gleaming egg that was large enough to hold a small human child, if it was curled up tightly inside the shell.

‘Kea!’ Atka cried. ‘Oh, Kea, I’m so glad to see you. My egg – you have to get it out of here.’

The winged girl, with Yinze close behind, landed near the Dragon’s head. ‘A plague on the egg!’ she snapped. ‘What about you? Atka, we have to get you out.’

Though she could not see outside, she could hear ominous crashes and howls, and a chill ran through her. It sounded as though the Moldan was coming even closer. Kea could feel the earth shaking
from his heavy footfalls, and could hear the screams of his victims.

‘There’s no time for me,’ Atka said. ‘The weather is too cold, and I’m too sluggish to escape that monster, even if you could get me out of here in time. Unless
someone stops him soon, I’m finished. Please, for my sake, take the egg. Maybe the Wizards can keep it warm enough to hatch.’

‘I’m not leaving you,’ the winged girl cried fiercely.

‘It’s that or die here with me,’ the Dragon replied implacably. ‘It would take a miracle to save me now. Hope for that miracle, Kea – but take my egg to
safety.’

‘Yinze, you take it.’ Kea turned to the Wizard. ‘I’ll stay here to help Atka.’

‘I can’t. I need both hands for the harp.’


Please
, Kea,’ Atka begged. ‘It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you.’

With a curse, Kea capitulated at last. ‘All right; hand it over. I’ll take it somewhere safe – then I’m coming back for you.’

The egg, large, smooth and heavy as it was, proved impossible for the winged girl to hold. She and Yinze hastily improvised a kind of sack from the Wizard’s cloak, lashing the four corners
together with the egg contained within. Kea laid a hand on the Dragon’s face. ‘I’m coming back for you, I promise.’ Then, her wings labouring hard to lift the extra weight,
she took off with Yinze, unable to look back for the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

 

 

 

 

35

~

CATACLYSM

 

 

 

 

W
ith horror, Corisand saw Iriana fall, and the Moldan’s deadly focus swing towards herself. If she couldn’t revive her friend –
and quickly – they were both doomed. Hastily she changed back to a normal-sized equine form, then used the flying spell to speed across the city. While she was moving so fast it was hard to
shield, and Ghabal was throwing petrifaction spells at her as hard as he could. The Windeye zigzagged, back and forth, high and low across the sky. There were near misses where she felt the
giant’s unclean magic sizzling past, but she kept on heading back to where the prone forms of Taine and the Wizard lay, along with the idiot who was responsible for this mess.

Shock at his own deed brought Avithan back to his senses. He got to his feet – only to be ploughed down again by something large and solid. He rolled over, and saw a grey horse, ears back,
teeth bared, looming above him. Before he could move, the animal planted one of her forefeet on his chest, right above his heart, pinning him to the ground. The Moldan was coming closer now. All of
Corisand’s concentration had to be focused on her shield so that she could not use her powers for anything else, but there were other ways to get the sleep spell off her friend.

‘Take it off,’ she ordered Avithan in mindspeech. ‘Take your bloody sleep spell off my friend.’

‘No,’ Avithan shouted. ‘Get off me, you foul beast.’ He could find no missiles nearby to hurl at her by magic, nor could he crack the ground beneath her feet without
endangering himself. He threw up a strangling vine, but it scraped harmlessly against her shield, and a petrifaction spell bounced harmlessly off the same barrier.

‘Take the spell
off
.’ Corisand pressed her weight down harder on his chest, and Avithan screamed in pain. The Windeye spoke again, her voice cold and hard as iron.
‘Take it off or I’ll kill you.’ Without waiting, she pressed down again, feeling Avithan’s ribs bend a little beneath the weight.

‘All right,’ he screamed. ‘Stop, stop! I’m doing it!’

Chiannala fell onto the pitching deck of the boat with a jolt that knocked the breath from her body. She could scarcely believe that she was still in one piece. Her first
apport, and she had survived it! Ignoring her aches and bruises she got to her feet, balancing uncertainly on the tilting surface, and looked around for Incondor. The Skyman was sprawled across the
deck nearby, but the splints and bracing on his wings were cracked and splintered, and his wing bones had been further shattered and mangled in the apport.

Two other bedridden patients had followed her onto the pitching deck, and another of the Healers: she recognised Lameron, looking pale and haggard, tending to them. There was all sorts of
shouting and commotion going on among the fisherfolk, with much hauling of ropes and massive movements of sails going on above her head. It seemed that someone else had missed the target and was in
the ocean, and the crew were trying to turn the boat in time to pick them up.

Then a groan from her right turned her attention back to Incondor. She staggered over and knelt at his side. ‘What’s hurting?’

He reached out and clasped her hand. ‘Everything,’ he groaned.

‘I’ll take care of it.’

‘It’s no good – we lost them.’ Someone’s voice broke into her concentration as she worked to block Incondor’s pain. She looked up in some irritation to see a
tall woman, the one who had spoken, in the bows looking out across the sea, where several sails from other boats could be seen. Judging from her clothing, she was part of the crew. Someone else
busied themselves with ropes around the mast behind Chiannala as an older, blue-eyed man shouted, ‘Bring her about! Let’s head for home.’ He turned to Lameron. ‘I’m
sorry, Healer, but it’s very hard to pick up someone who fell off a moving boat, and in this case, your folk were never on board in the first place so we had that extra distance to cover. We
did our best but . . .’ He spread his hands.

‘Are you certain, Captain Valior?’ Lameron pleaded. ‘You do know that Wizards can breathe underwater, don’t you?’

Chiannala’s heart stuttered, stopped – then started beating again at breakneck speed as panic twisted in her guts.

Had Brynne survived?

Her half-blood prevented her from feeling the deaths of fellow Wizards, so there had always been that tiny shred of doubt – but she had put it aside. Surely no one would survive such a
fall into the ocean? But living so far inland in Nexis, no one had ever told her that a Wizard couldn’t drown. If the truth about what she had done ever came out, she would lose everything .
. .

Firmly, Chiannala told herself not to be stupid. If Brynne had survived, she would surely have turned up by now. She put the matter out of her mind, afraid that Lameron might catch a fleeting
hint of her guilty thoughts. To avoid attracting his attention, she pulled the hood of her robe up to shadow her face, and bent solicitously over Incondor, though she still listened carefully to
everything that was going on.

‘You said that your sick people were wrapped in blankets,’ the Captain was saying. ‘They simply must have sunk, and there’s no way to bring them back. The cold will
likely finish them off, but there’s just nothing we can do. And there’s no sign of your other Healers. Maybe the other boats picked them up – we’ll try to signal
them.’

‘You did your best, Captain,’ Lameron replied with a sigh. ‘After all, we came bursting onto your ship without leave or invitation, yet you’ve agreed to help us.
We’re all deeply in your debt and I’m very grateful, but I’m afraid that when we performed the apport, those other two patients were targeted on this boat, so they must be lost.
You’re right, though – the rest of the Healers and patients may be on the other ships.’

He swallowed hard. ‘I can’t tell you how glad I am that you were here. You’ve no idea what it was like in the city, with that abomination on the rampage. Had you not been
offloading in Tyrineld today, it’s certain we’d all have died a hideous death.’

Valior put a comforting hand on the shoulder of the shaking Healer. ‘A monster like that creature I saw in Tyrineld puts all folk, Wizard or mortal, on the same side. I’ll relieve
the helmsman now, and we’ll be on our way. I want to put as much distance between us and that –
thing
– as I can.’

As Iriana began to stir, Corisand removed her hoof from Avithan’s chest and rapped it smartly against the side of his head. As he lolled, unconscious, she glanced at the
limp form of Taine and thought, ‘Tit for tat.’ Though her sharper equine hearing could detect the Hemifae’s heartbeat, he showed no sign of waking, and there would be no time to
heal him now. Meanwhile, Iriana was sitting up. ‘What happened? Taine? I can’t see!’ Her voice rose in panic.

‘It’s all right.’ Corisand was busy reverting to her human form. ‘Here, link with my mind. Use my vision.’

The Wizard scrambled to her feet as she found that she could see again – and the first things that caught her eye were the prone forms of Taine and Avithan. ‘Taine! What the blazes .
. .’ Then she gasped. ‘The Moldan! Where is he?’

Corisand’s voice was grim. ‘He’s coming for us now.’

Melisanda was the very last to leave the Healers’ complex, with the Moldan so close that his vile, black shadow cast a pall over the shells of the shattered buildings.
She had done her best to save her Healers and those they cared for, though a number had been lost under fallen walls and ceilings, and though her heart was breaking from the losses she knew that
she could do no more. As she stood amid the dust and wreckage, she saw the malformed giant looming above. One more step—

Desperately she summoned the image of one of the ships and with all her will she threw herself, magic, body and spirit, towards it. Then the Luen of Healers was gone, and she found herself face
down on a wet wooden deck that pitched up and down in an increasingly rough sea.


Another
one?’ a voice beside her growled. Weary and shaky she pulled herself up to see a big, bearded man with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair escaping from a rough
braid, who stood at the tiller of the fishing boat. On the deck in front of her were two of her healers, Lameron and Brynne, doing their best to make a trio of patients, including Incondor,
comfortable.

Is that all? What happened to the rest of them?

Melisanda let out a moan. Surely these couldn’t be the only survivors! It had been a long shot at best, but to have saved so few . . .

Suddenly she jumped as a strong, work-hardened hand patted her arm. ‘Don’t take on, lass.’ His voice was honey poured over gravel. ‘Using flags, we’ve ways of
signalling to one another, and quite a few of them made it to the other boats. You know, it’s a miracle that any of you got out of there, and from what Healer Lameron’s been saying,
that’s all down to you.’

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