Further inland there was only a light breeze; they were sheltered by the range of coastal hills, the feature that had led the men of old to choose this site for their city. As they began the long descent towards the city of the beetles, steering was almost unnecessary; the wind carried them directly towards the green space of the central square. When their approach was observed, men and women began to run towards the square, and a crowd formed on the steps of the town hall, and on the surrounding pavements. Now the ropes between the balloons were untied, and allowed to hang suspended. When they came close enough to the ground, men jumped up and caught them, steering the balloons towards the centre of the grass. Niall felt the bump as they touched the ground, then suddenly found himself lying flat, being dragged along with the balloon on top of him. Moments later, hands pulled him clear and helped him to his feet. A girl flung her arms round his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was Dona. He saw, to his astonishment, that there were tears in her eyes.
“Why are you crying?”
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. . .”
It felt strange to be standing on solid land, as if the ground was pushing up against his feet. The air was pleasantly warm, and the scent of flowers was like a caress.
The others were also being overwhelmed by embraces; Doggins was almost pulled to the ground by his children. Milo, Ulic and Manetho were surrounded by a crowd of admiring young men and women.
Crispin clasped Niall’s forearm, embracing him with the other arm round his neck. He asked in a low voice: “Is it true you went to the Delta?”
“Yes. What’s been happening while we were away?”
Crispin glanced over his shoulder. “The Master was furious that you left without permission. Hastur and Kosmin have been in prison ever since. And the spiders have been in and out of the town hall every day.”
“What about the Reapers?”
“They’ve been taken away.”
“But not destroyed?”
“No. But I believe they’re talking about it.”
A beetle guard was advancing through the crowd towards them; Niall guessed what he wanted.
Dona placed her lips close to Niall’s ear.
“Is it true that you’re going to marry Merlew?”
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone’s heard the rumour.” She added with a touch of irony: “I think she probably started it.”
Niall laughed. “Then she forgot to tell me about it.”
Dona smiled with relief.
Doggins said in Niall’s ear: “Here comes trouble. Better let me do the talking.”
The beetle guard halted, and addressed Doggins in signal language. Doggins replied in the same way, at the same time speaking aloud for Niall’s benefit.
“Tell the Master we shall be there.” He turned to Niall. “We’re being summoned before the council in an hour.”
As the beetle turned to go, Niall attuned himself to its mental vibration.
“Wait!”
The beetle turned and regarded him with astonishment. With its eyes looking into his own, Niall found direct communication as natural as speech.
“Please tell the Master that I wish to speak to him now.”
Doggins asked: “What’s going on?” The beetle guard was looking at him questioningly. Niall said:
“I’ve told him that I want to speak to the Master immediately.”
Doggins looked at him with raised eyebrows. “But why? You’ll only get all the blame.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Doggins shrugged. “Well, I don’t suppose it can do any harm.” He turned back to the guard and made a signal with his hands; the guard acknowledged it, and returned towards the town hall. “I hope you’re not going to try to take the blame?”
Niall shrugged. “There shouldn’t be any blame. We have a right to go wherever we like.” He started to follow the guard. Doggins looked alarmed.
“Here, wait a minute!”
Niall ignored him, and hurried after the guard. The beetle walked with enormous strides, its long legs carrying it comfortably over the heads of the crowd. Niall had to apologise as he pushed people aside. The beetle had turned left and already vanished around the corner of the town hall; but when Niall reached the corner, he was in time to see it coming to a halt in front of one of the twisted red towers. As he hurried down the street, the guard disappeared inside. A few moments later, Niall halted in front of the doorway and paused, glad of an opportunity to regain his breath.
The doorway before which he was standing was a low arch, carved in a wall that was more than a foot thick. Inside, he could see an ascending ramp. Leaning inside the door, against the wall, he could see a door made of the same heavy, waxy substance. Niall found it intriguing that the beetles should have failed to avail themselves of the human invention of hinged doors, but should have preferred this thick, clumsy slab that had to be carried into place. He also observed that the arched doorway was scarcely higher than himself; the beetle guard had been forced to flatten its stomach against the ground as it entered. These observations helped to calm his sense of anxiety; they revealed that, in spite of their intelligence, the beetles were still tied to their evolutionary past.
He made an effort to relax, and found it surprisingly easy: there was an instant release of tension that made him feel almost drowsy. Then he experienced a sensation of warmth, and realised that he was surrounded by a glow of energy that seemed to emanate from the house itself. It was like a blue-green flame that burnt gently upwards. Now he understood why each beetle-house was surrounded by a narrow moat; it prevented the flame from spreading sideways, and therefore increased its intensity. The energy bathed him in a gentle glow, like a breeze, and made his skin prickle with warmth, not unlike a mild sunburn.
The guard beetle squeezed its way out of the doorway — it was obviously an operation to which it was accustomed — and beckoned Niall to go inside. Niall stepped into the dark interior and halted. After the bright sunlight, he felt as if he had been blindfolded. But after about a minute his sight cleared, and he was able to see by the dim blue light of the flame. He walked up the ramp, treading cautiously — for to his leather-shod feet it seemed slippery — and found himself in a large hallway. Except for the dim light of the blue flame, it was in complete darkness. Around the hall were rooms with semicircular doorways; he could sense the presence of other beetles, and from one of the doorways, a tiny bombardier beetle with a silvery-green skin watched him with eyes that were bright with curiosity.
He was facing another ramp, at the top of which there was a wide arch; Niall sensed that this was the entrance to the Master’s chamber. As he started to mount the ramp, the voice of the Master seemed to address him from the air.
“Humans should remove their shoes before entering the dwelling of a Saarleb.”
These words were accompanied by a feeling of irritation that was like a cold wind. Oddly enough, this aroused in Niall a curious feeling of satisfaction; it revealed that the Master was subject to emotions, and that therefore he was not completely superhuman. Without bending down, Niall kicked off his boots, and left them on the floor; then, in his bare feet, he mounted the ramp.
He stood in the centre of the archway, sensing that to enter the room without invitation would provoke further offence. The Master’s chamber was shaped like a large sphere, and its shape seemed designed to capture the blue energy, which followed the curvature of the walls and concentrated in the middle of the ceiling. The curved floor was covered with a carpet of green leaves and grass, and with a thick layer of moss or lichen. There were large rocks in the room, and a huge decaying fragment of log; these apparently served the same function as furniture in a human household.
The Master was lying in the centre of the room, his legs folded underneath him. Even so, his eyes were on a higher level than Niall’s.
The invitation to enter the room was not forthcoming; instead, the Master said:
“Why did you ask to see me?”
Now Niall made an interesting discovery. On the previous occasions when he had spoken with the Master, he had replied in human language, and relied upon the Master’s ability to read his thoughts. Since his encounter with the empress plant, the words had become unnecessary; he was able to convey his meaning by thought alone. He said:
“I have come because I need your help.”
The reply was like an icy blast. “You have no right to my help. You have led my servants into disobedience.”