snow. Rulke had opened the way into the void.
The void! Even the chroniclers knew little about it, except that it was a
dark, desperate place that fostered only two urges: to survive; to escape. The
thranx! Equally unknown, but stronger, more cunning, more deadly than any
other creature that dwelt there.
How his legs hurt. Llian climbed painfully to his feet and promptly collapsed
again. Karan was within a stone's throw but he was too weak to crawl up the
steps to her. Whatever had happened to her, there was absolutely nothing he
could do about it.
For the first time he thought of his own safety, of being rent apart by some
unspeakable horror. There were Tales of the Void, his fevered mind reminded
him, though he had read few of them. His interests had lain in other
directions, and they were not tales at all as far as he was concerned, for
they seemed to have little basis in truth. So, for Llian and most of the
chroniclers and tellers they formed part of the Apocrypha, the pre-Histories;
the unproven or unprovable, not worthy of study.
He struggled to recall. By the time he became a master chronicler he could
remember perfectly anything that he had read twice. That was his training. But
the Tales of the Void had been learned much earlier, when he was a mere
journeyman, long before his training was perfected.
Shand had recognised the thranx. He could still hear the
panic in his voice, see the way he had flung up his hands, the red light from
Carcharon on his face. How would Shand know such a thing?
The snow began to fall heavily - a blizzard that blotted everything out. Blood
was freezing to slush in his boots. Llian's shivers turned to a convulsive
shuddering. Even the pain in his ankles was gone now. He could feel nothing
from the shins down. He forced himself to his knees but as soon as he tried to
move fell over again. Llian had just wit enough to realise that he no longer
had to worry about the thranx. He would be dead within the hour.
The Lorrsk
Lilis was standing halfway up the steps of Carcharon with Nadiril and Jevi
when the thranx came through the wall. Jevi, a small wiry man with long
platinum hair like Lilis's, knocked Nadiril down on the step and flung himself
on top of Lilis.
'Stay still,' he hissed in her ear. 'Don't move; don't scream.'
'I wasn't going to,' she muttered, her mouth full of snow. Though she loved
Jevi as much as anyone could, she had been looking after herself for so long
that she sometimes found his care smothering.
They lay motionless while the thranx gobbled its prey, bounded into the air
and attacked further down the track. Light flared from an upraised staff, then
it disappeared in the night.
'Quickly now,' said Jevi. 'Be careful on the path, Lilis.'
Nadiril did not move. Lilis bent over him, crying, 'Are you all right?'
'I'll live, child. I banged my head. Help me up!' But when they lifted him to
his feet the old man tottered. 'Leave me,' he said. 'Get down to the forest.
There might be more of them.'
'We're not leaving you. Jevi, please do something,' begged Lilis, in great
distress.
Jevi heaved Nadiril over his shoulder like a lanky bag of
bones and set off, Lilis close at his heels. In the dark they went past Llian
without seeing him.
'Such indignity,' said Nadiril in a chuckling wheeze.
At the dip in the path Jevi had to stop for a breather. It was slightly wider
here.
'Put me down,' said Nadiril. 'I feel better now.'
Jevi looked toward the steps that led over a lip into the amphitheatre,
gauging the distance. 'I think I can carry you that far.'
'What's that?' Lilis hissed.
A flare from inside the tower outlined something racing down the stairs of
Carcharon, a man-sized creature like a wingless thranx. 'It's a lorrsk out of
the void, child,' said Nadiril, staggering against Jevi's shoulder. 'More than
our equal, even were we armed.'
Jevi whipped out a short knife. 'Get behind me, up the steps,' he said
urgently.
Neither
The void! Even the chroniclers knew little about it, except that it was a
dark, desperate place that fostered only two urges: to survive; to escape. The
thranx! Equally unknown, but stronger, more cunning, more deadly than any
other creature that dwelt there.
How his legs hurt. Llian climbed painfully to his feet and promptly collapsed
again. Karan was within a stone's throw but he was too weak to crawl up the
steps to her. Whatever had happened to her, there was absolutely nothing he
could do about it.
For the first time he thought of his own safety, of being rent apart by some
unspeakable horror. There were Tales of the Void, his fevered mind reminded
him, though he had read few of them. His interests had lain in other
directions, and they were not tales at all as far as he was concerned, for
they seemed to have little basis in truth. So, for Llian and most of the
chroniclers and tellers they formed part of the Apocrypha, the pre-Histories;
the unproven or unprovable, not worthy of study.
He struggled to recall. By the time he became a master chronicler he could
remember perfectly anything that he had read twice. That was his training. But
the Tales of the Void had been learned much earlier, when he was a mere
journeyman, long before his training was perfected.
Shand had recognised the thranx. He could still hear the
panic in his voice, see the way he had flung up his hands, the red light from
Carcharon on his face. How would Shand know such a thing?
The snow began to fall heavily - a blizzard that blotted everything out. Blood
was freezing to slush in his boots. Llian's shivers turned to a convulsive
shuddering. Even the pain in his ankles was gone now. He could feel nothing
from the shins down. He forced himself to his knees but as soon as he tried to
move fell over again. Llian had just wit enough to realise that he no longer
had to worry about the thranx. He would be dead within the hour.
The Lorrsk
Lilis was standing halfway up the steps of Carcharon with Nadiril and Jevi
when the thranx came through the wall. Jevi, a small wiry man with long
platinum hair like Lilis's, knocked Nadiril down on the step and flung himself
on top of Lilis.
'Stay still,' he hissed in her ear. 'Don't move; don't scream.'
'I wasn't going to,' she muttered, her mouth full of snow. Though she loved
Jevi as much as anyone could, she had been looking after herself for so long
that she sometimes found his care smothering.
They lay motionless while the thranx gobbled its prey, bounded into the air
and attacked further down the track. Light flared from an upraised staff, then
it disappeared in the night.
'Quickly now,' said Jevi. 'Be careful on the path, Lilis.'
Nadiril did not move. Lilis bent over him, crying, 'Are you all right?'
'I'll live, child. I banged my head. Help me up!' But when they lifted him to
his feet the old man tottered. 'Leave me,' he said. 'Get down to the forest.
There might be more of them.'
'We're not leaving you. Jevi, please do something,' begged Lilis, in great
distress.
Jevi heaved Nadiril over his shoulder like a lanky bag of
bones and set off, Lilis close at his heels. In the dark they went past Llian
without seeing him.
'Such indignity,' said Nadiril in a chuckling wheeze.
At the dip in the path Jevi had to stop for a breather. It was slightly wider
here.
'Put me down,' said Nadiril. 'I feel better now.'
Jevi looked toward the steps that led over a lip into the amphitheatre,
gauging the distance. 'I think I can carry you that far.'
'What's that?' Lilis hissed.
A flare from inside the tower outlined something racing down the stairs of
Carcharon, a man-sized creature like a wingless thranx. 'It's a lorrsk out of
the void, child,' said Nadiril, staggering against Jevi's shoulder. 'More than
our equal, even were we armed.'
Jevi whipped out a short knife. 'Get behind me, up the steps,' he said
urgently.
Neither
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