Alchymist Read Free

a
distant field.
    'They
seem to be working to a plan,' said Irisis, wolfing down a gritty hunk of black
bread. It was tasteless army fare, but she was too hungry to care.
    The
machines had maintained formation all the way around the circuit. 'It's almost
. . . It's as if they're all controlled by one mind.' Flydd carved slivers off
a distinctly green cheese and popped them into his mouth, two at a time.
'Though I know that's not possible.'
    Flangers
came up beside them, one hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
'They'd better look out!'
    The
two lyrinx sentries were now converging on the ranked air-floaters. One
corkscrewed down to the left side, the other plummeted directly towards the
top-right machine. The attack was co-ordinated so they would reach their
targets at the same time. And air-floaters were vulnerable. One slash of a
lyrinx's claws could tear the gasbag right open. Moreover, an attack from
directly above was difficult to defend against.
    The
air-floaters shifted slightly out of line. Just before the higher lyrinx
reached its target there came a flash that lit up the creature. Its wings
folded up and it fell out of the air. Rotating slowly, it disappeared behind a
boulder-topped hill. 'What was that?' said Irisis. 'I don't know,' the
scrutator replied.
    The
corkscrewing lynnx beat its great wings, coming out of the dive right beside
the gasbag of the air-floater. It gave a measured slash but, before its claws
could part the fabric, it too was hit by a flash of light. The lyrinx's wings
churned, it somersaulted backwards and fell, upside down. Halfway to the ground
it seemed to recover, flapped several times and almost broke its fall, but lost
it and plunged into the bloody mud of the battlefield at a speed that must have
pulverised every bone in its great body.
    'I
don't sense the Art,' said Flydd, puzzled. 'What are the scrutators up to?'
    The
battle had not resumed. The air-floaters pulled back into that perfect
formation, now hanging motionless above the battlefield, their rotors turning
just enough to counteract the gentle motion of the air.
    'I
wonder . . .?' said Flydd. 'Who on the Council has the boldness for this kind
of venture, and the foresight to know that it would be needed?'
    Irisis
had a fair idea, but she would just wait and see. From the topmost middle
air-floater, rods extended to either side, all the way to the neighbouring
machines, which latched on. A roll of shimmering fabric fell, was caught as it
passed in front of the middle row of machines, and again at the bottom.
    'What
on earth are they doing?' said Tham.
    No
one answered. The air-floaters moved ever so slightly this way and that,
bending the rods and pulling the fabric into a gentle concavity. It took a long
time, for the slightest change in the breeze tended to drift the machines
apart, and much manoeuvring was required to get them aligned again.
    'It's
a mirror,' said Irisis. But what is it for?'
    'They're
not using the An at all' Flydd replied. They simply hit the flying lyrinx with
a dazzling beam. Lyrinx have poorer eyesight than we do, and their eyes are
sensitive to bright light. They only fight in the middle of the day if they
have to. The beam disrupted the An they were using to keep aloft, and they were
too close to the ground to recover.'
    'They're
moving,' said Flangers.
    The
twelve air-floaters wheeled in perfect formation. The sun flashed off the
mirror, the beam lighting up a strip of ground some twenty spans long.
    The
beam crept across the battlefield, to play on a group of lyrinx attacking a
line of soldiers. Irisis focussed on the scene with a spyglass. The lyrinx
threw up their arms, trying to shield themselves from the boiling glare, then
broke and ran, staggering from side to side. One bold soldier attacked from
behind, felling his quarry with a sword thrust between the back plates, but the
others escaped.
    The
beam stepped to another group of lyrinx, who broke like the first. As it
tracked across the