‘Fire at the wingless one!’ Nish screamed.

Rahnd, a dark, burly man with no front teeth and one leg noticeably shorter than the other, held up empty hands. He’d spent all his missiles. The clanker groaned to a stop some hundred paces up the slope, where boulders and outcrops prevented further movement.

The passengers jumped off. Jal-Nish was among them, along with Fyn-Mah, Tuniz and red-headed Rustina, whose shoulder and side were covered in blood. Seeing no sign of Irisis, Nish caught his breath. Rahnd sprang off, attacking a rock with hammer and chisel.

‘Ky-Ara’s clanker is wrecked back in the gully,’ Nish shouted, pointing. ‘It still has spears.’

Rahnd set off with a lopsided, lurching stride. Nish went to meet the others. ‘Where’s Irisis?’ he gasped. ‘Is she …?’

Rustina pointed over her shoulder. Irisis, just levering herself through the back hatch, had a bandage wrapped around her thigh. Her garments were rent down the side, the left sleeve of her coat hanging by a few threads. Jal-Nish was grim of face but unharmed.

‘We’ve got them!’ Nish exulted, pointing to the lyrinx hobbling along the cliff, still holding Tiaan.

‘We’ll crow when we have them in our hands,’ said Jal-Nish wearily. ‘And considering there’s two lyrinx, and we … Ah, I’m mortally weary. Let’s get it over.’

Irisis limped down. ‘Where’s the crystal?’

‘I presume Tiaan has it,’ said Nish.

‘She hasn’t! I searched her pack at the ice house.’ Irisis was very pale.

Jal-Nish’s head whipped around. He gave Irisis a smouldering stare.

Nish asked no questions, though he wanted to. ‘Then the flying one must have it. Look! She’s got a little pack on her chest.’

The flying lyrinx swooped down toward the pair on the cliff, trailing the wing. ‘What’s she up to?’ Jal-Nish muttered.

‘I’ve no idea,’ Fyn-Mah replied. Her lips were blue; her eyes had gone a murky yellow.

‘Aim for the flying one!’ Irisis roared at the clanker. ‘It’s got the crystal!’

‘How do you know?’ snapped Jal-Nish, his mood deteriorating by the second.

‘I’m an artisan, remember?’

The shooter had not returned but Simmo was staggering up the slope carrying a lump of rock. Turning the catapult around, he aimed at the flying lyrinx and fired. The missile sang through the sky but did no damage.

‘I’m surrounded by incompetents!’ Jal-Nish spat.

‘Even Rahnd would be lucky to do better,’ the querist said quietly. ‘Precise shooting requires round shot.’

‘Get up there, Tuniz,’ Jal-Nish ordered. ‘Round rocks for the shooter! The rest of you, after the wingless beast. Kill it or put it over the cliff. Keep Tiaan alive at all costs. We’ll attack together.’

‘Do you think we should try to use power against it?’ Fyn-Mah said quietly to the perquisitor.

‘After what happened last time?’

‘It might make the difference.’

‘All right. We’ll take the wingless one. See if you can bring the flier down.’

The wingless lyrinx was limping along the edge of the cliff, holding Tiaan by the wrist. It was a difficult position to attack. They could not run at it without risking going over themselves. Nish fell in beside Irisis as they moved to cut it off.

‘How’s your leg?’

‘Very painful.’

The flying lyrinx, now soaring high, came swooping down with the delta-shape gliding along below. Irisis was the first to realise what it was for. ‘Shoot!’ she screamed at Simmo. ‘They’ll get away on the wing.’

Jal-Nish and Rustina converged on the wingless lyrinx. The perquisitor, out in front, moved with deliberation. Rustina was all over the place, hacking wildly. The sight of the creature, holding Tiaan as hostage, had driven her into a frenzy.

‘Calm down, sergeant. Try to hamstring it!’ roared Jal-Nish. ‘I’ll go for the throat.’

The lyrinx, now holding Tiaan against its chest, slashed at Jal-Nish but missed. Rustina got through the creature’s guard to prick it on the hip, though not to any noticeable effect. It clouted her in the belly with a backhand, slamming her head-first into a boulder. Jal-Nish, finding himself without support, scrambled backwards but could not get out of reach of the mighty arm. The creature’s claws raked him across the face, the shoulder, then the chest. Jal-Nish screamed. The lyrinx backhanded him across the head, like swatting a fly, and the perquisitor went down, blood pouring out of him.

Only Nish and Irisis were still armed and able. Their eyes met. ‘It’s over,’ Irisis said calmly.

‘We tried our best.’

‘What say you, Nish, old lover? To the death?’

Her words warmed him. ‘To the death!’ he echoed, sure that his father was dying and he was going to.

Nish and Irisis flung themselves at the lyrinx, their swords weaving a net of steel in front of them. It was retreating slowly, more intent on what was happening in the sky than overcoming them. Kicking a clot of icy gravel in their faces, the lyrinx ran a few steps then stopped.

The flier came sweeping in. The wingless lyrinx let out a howl of frustration as again the wing bucked in the updraft. Nish and Irisis attacked from behind. Nish landed a blow on the thigh that went between the plates and drew dark blood. Irisis followed it up with a stab to the back, directly into a plate.

Tossing Tiaan to one side, the lyrinx whirled and kicked Irisis’s legs from under her. Nish heard something break and she fell near the edge of the cliff. He launched a furious attack, which the lyrinx fended off absently, one eye on the scene in the air.

Fyn-Mah was standing on top of an outcrop, holding her arms out as if carrying a basin of water. Whipping them apart, up and down and up, across and back, she carved an extended infinity sign in the air. Powdery crystals followed her fingers. With a flick of her hands, the shape tumbled through the air, to vanish in an explosion of ice just below the flying lyrinx’s left wing.

The wing dipped sharply as if the air had collapsed below it. The lyrinx tumbled, recovered, there came a whistle-crack and the rock erupted upwards beneath Fyn-Mah’s feet, sending her head-over-heels. Fragments of stone sang through the air, trailing mist. The shattered top of the rock steamed. A trickle of water ran down the side, froze and all was still again. Fyn-Mah could not be seen.

The wing swept down. Nish roared ‘Fire!’

A ragged ball of rock tore between him and the wingless lyrinx, so near that the wind ruffled his hair. ‘Not at me, you cretin!’

Nish attacked again. The lyrinx lunged, swinging wildly. Nish tripped, landed flat on his back, and the sword jarred out of his hand. He stared up at the beast, knowing it was going to tear him apart.

Tiaan lay on the ground, watching the struggle. Whether Ryll won or lost made little difference now. Besant would get away with the amplimet and her dreams would end.

But Ryll’s attackers fell, one by one. The violence made her feel sick. Irisis screamed and crashed down by the cliff. Tiaan caught her breath in case she went over. She was beyond any ill-feelings for Irisis now.

Nish attacked boldly, looking ten times the man who had pestered her a few weeks ago. He looked as if he had suffered. He too went down.

Her eyes met his. ‘I’m sorry,’ Tiaan said.

‘So am I!’ he said stiffly.

Ryll raised one foot. ‘No, Ryll!’ she cried. He was about to bring it down when there came a wild, shuddering shriek and Ryll turned aside. She was glad Nish would survive.

As Ryll dragged her away, Jal-Nish, a blood-drenched caricature of a man, staggered to his feet. ‘Don’t let it have her!’ he gasped. ‘If she can’t be taken, kill her!’

Tiaan’s uncertainty vanished. She screwed up her courage for the leap. Again, wind caught the wing before it got to her, kicking it up and out, though not so far out this time. She could almost get there. She tensed, knowing that it was just too far away.