Alchymist by Ian Irvine

see
her as she'd been to find him. She suppressed that worry. Could he be at the
camp surrounded by those shining metal constructs? Ullii dared not go to see;
the Aachim leader was a harsh man, like the people who had tormented her in
childhood.
    She
ate some more bread, then slept, the baby kicking in her belly like the
feathery brush of a fish's tail. The night passed. The fighting stopped briefly
before continuing, as brutal and bloody as ever. In the morning her sleep was
interrupted by flashes brighter than the sun. One passed right across the
air-floater, showing even,' rib, strut and wire of the collapsed gasbag, and
her black glass goggles jammed under a bench.
    Scrambling
for them, Ullii stared up at the sky. The fleet of air-floaters was impossible
to miss. Their crystals appeared faintly in her lattice, a perfect formation of
three by four. Something else showed, too. The presence was also faint,
denoting only a minor talent for the Secret Art, but it had a signature she
would have known anywhere — a festering corruption of mind and body that made
her belly cramp and her skin crawl. Ullii had not felt it since their escape
from the mine at the manufactory, months ago. It was the man she feared most — Jal-Nish
Hlar.
    She
tried to close down her senses again, but this time they would not obey her,
for fear of what might happen when she was helpless. Scuttling into the galley,
she closed the door and piled bags and barrels against it. Without a window, it
was stiflingly hot — too hot for comfort — and though it was dim inside, for
once that did not help.
    She
closed her eyes, but again that beam passed over the air-floater, and light
streamed in through a tiny crack in the wall, so bright that she felt it. Ullii
was not safe anywhere. As she put her hands over the goggles, the earth began
to shake as if thousands of heavy feet were pounding it. The clawers were on
the move. If they came this way, one of them would eat her in a few
bone-snapping, brain-spurting gulps.
    Clearing
the door, Ullii crept out, peering fearfully through her goggles. Another blast
of light seared from sky to ground. A great wail went up and she saw the enemy
running for their lives, a horde of them heading directly for the air-floater.
In their panic, they might crash right through the flimsy structure.
    Not
far away a clanker lay on its side, torn open from one end to the other. It
offered better shelter, since the beasts would have to go round it. Slipping
over the side. Ullii bent low to the ground and ran. The enemy pounded towards
her. Halfway to the clanker she encountered a dead dawer lying in a depression.
Ullii froze, staring at the great hulk, whose eyes seemed to be looking right
at her.
    It
was almost her undoing. Ullii could not move, terrified that the creature would
come to life and tear her in half. It didn't and, finding courage at the last
instant, she leapt over it and scuttled the dozen steps to the side of the
clanker. Pulling herself underneath its overhanging side, she closed her eyes
and prayed.
    The
mob thundered past, rocking the clanker. The metal frame creaked and groaned.
Ullii shuddered and curled into a smaller ball, knowing that the clawers could
find her by smell if they wanted to.
    The
last went by, limping. She did not move. Not until the stampede faded into the
distance did she dare to open her eyes.
    The
air-floaters still shone their beam one way and another. Ullii slipped inside
the clanker, looking for water and food. She did not find any, only blood on
the floor, the srhell so sickly that she almost passed out.
    She
hid underneath in the small patch of shadow, following it around as the sun
rose higher then sank towards the west. By the mid-afternoon it became clear
that the enemy were abandoning Snizort, but Ullii did not know what to do.
Experience had taught her that few people could be trusted. Nor could she live
alone, in the wild. Food, clothing and shelter had always been provided for