Doggins said: “This is Simeon. He’s our medicine man.”
Niall nodded and said hello, but his voice still sounded as if it was being strained through dry leaves. Simeon stared at him intently with his strange grey eyes, which seemed to contain points of light, then took his wrist. After feeling the pulse, and placing his hand on Niall’s cheek — there was a brief, tingling sensation as he did so — he rested his bag on the bed, and took from it a short knife with a pointed, heavy blade. With this he began to cut delicately at the plaster round Niall’s throat; after a few long, deep incisions, he was able to pull it apart. The air felt unpleasantly cold on the exposed skin. The old man reached out and touched Niall’s throat with his forefinger; it made Niall wince.
Doggins asked anxiously: “What do you think?”
“He was lucky. Another inch to the right and he’d be dead.” Simeon had a deep, throaty voice that was almost a growl.
Niall tried to peer down at his own neck, but it was impossible. Doggins picked up a hand mirror from a dressing table, and held it out. Niall was shocked at the blotchy travesty of his face reflected in the polished steel. The eyes were bloodshot, and the cheeks were covered with red and purple marks that looked like bruises. His throat was circled by yellow and purple fingermarks.
He asked Doggins: “What happened to Odina?”
“We buried her this morning.”
“This morning?”
“That’s right. You’ve been here since the day before yesterday. You were in a fever.”
From his bag, Simeon took a phial of a brown liquid. “Open your mouth.” Niall obeyed, and he felt a few drops of cool liquid on his tongue. “This will burn. Close your eyes, and try not to swallow.”
As the liquid spread through his mouth, it seemed to turn to fire. It reached the back of his throat, and the pain was intense. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the padded headrest. After a few moments, the pain turned into a pleasant, warm sensation. He was unable to prevent himself from swallowing; as he did so, the warmth soothed the bruised sensation in his windpipe. Then, suddenly, his whole body felt relaxed. He said dreamily:
“That’s a wonderful medicine.”
“It’s called Jackal Bane, and it comes from the Great Delta.”
Niall opened his eyes. “You’ve been to the Great Delta?”
“Many times.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
“Yes, but not now. You must rest.”
They went away, leaving him alone. But although he now felt deeply relaxed, and the pain had turned into a distant ache, he was no longer sleepy. Instead, he thought about Odina, and allowed himself to experience the misery of losing her. When he thought of the last kiss he had exchanged with her, as he left the house on his way to the spider city, he felt the tears welling from his eyes; he made no attempt to stop them or to brush them away as they ran down his cheeks. The death of his father had been a hard blow, but his anguish had been the distress of a child who suddenly feels alone. Now he felt the heartache of an adult who has lost someone he loves. It seemed an outrage and an affront that anyone so beautiful should be consigned to the earth, and for the next half hour Niall allowed himself to sink into a condition of profound melancholy and pessimism. In this state he concluded that all life is a tragic mistake, and that the invisible powers who control our destiny regard us with a kind of bored contempt. These reflections left him deeply shaken, as if he had looked into an abyss. Finally, worn out with a sense of life-weariness, he drifted into a doze.
He was awakened by Selima, who was carrying a tray. She smiled so dazzlingly when she saw him that he found his heart lifting in response.
“You look much better.”
“Do I?”
She held out the mirror, and he saw that his eyes were no longer bloodshot, and that the haemorrhages had almost disappeared from his face. The purple bruises on his throat had faded into a brownish-yellow.
She sat on the bed, and placed the tray on his lap. “Try this.”
He tasted the thin broth, and found it delicious. To his surprise, he was able to swallow without pain. A thick, granular brown bread, covered in pale yellow butter, caused a twinge of agony, but the relief of his stomach was so great that he ignored it. As he ate, the rising tide of physical satisfaction swept away the last remnants of his earlier melancholy.
He asked Selima: “Were you frightened when the spiders surrounded the city?”
“Of course. Some of the others were not frightened because they were certain the beetles could protect them. But I was brought up among the spiders. I knew how dangerous they are.”
“How did the beetles prevent the spiders from overrunning your city?”
She seemed surprised. “You don’t know? They use will-power. I forget what it is called, but it means that they lock their wills together into a kind of mesh.”
“I understand. The spiders do the same thing. But how did the beetles know they were going to be attacked?”
“They expected it. As soon as they learned that you had gone to the spider city to steal explosives, they knew the spiders would come.”
“And do you think they will attack again?”
She shook her head, smiling. “Oh no. Not now we have the Reapers.”
“Ah, you know about the Reapers.”
“Of course. Everyone knows.” She took his tray. “Now you must rest again.”
As she was opening the door, he asked:
“Has there been any sign of the men in the other balloons?”
“Yes. They have all returned safely. Hastur’s balloon came down in the river, but they swam ashore. And Milo brought back some children he found in the forest.”
“What children?”
“Some children from the spider nursery.”
He asked eagerly: “Do you know their names?”
She gave him a strange, enigmatic glance.
“Your sisters are not among them.”
He gazed at her in astonishment. “How did you know about my sisters?”
Again she gave him the curious, doubtful look. Then she went out, leaving the door open. He stared after her, wondering what was to come. There were footsteps in the corridor, and a blue-clad girl stood in the doorway.
“Dona!”
She flung herself on to the bed and clasped her arms round his neck, giving him a long kiss. He had forgotten the pleasant warmth of her lips, and it took his breath away.
Selima, who had returned, said with mild reproof:
“You must not excite him. He still needs a lot of rest.”
“No, I promise I won’t.” Dona released him and sat down at the foot of the bed. They stared at one another, smiling, hardly able to believe they were together again.
Selima said: “I will be back in a few minutes.” She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Niall asked eagerly: “What has happened to my sisters?”
Her smile vanished. “They were taken away two days ago. The commander who came for them said they were being taken to their mother.”
“That was on the day of the explosion?”
“About two hours before.”
The news was not entirely unexpected. Two hours before the explosion, they had been bargaining with Kazak. His sisters were intended to be part of that bargain.
Dona reached out and touched his hand. “I am sorry.”
He shrugged. “It may be for the best. If the spiders are holding them as hostages, then they probably won’t harm them.” He deliberately closed his mind to the fears that tried to invade it. “But tell me how you escaped.”
“When the explosion came, I was out on the lawn with some of the children. Then the earth began to tremble, and I thought it was an earthquake — we had an earthquake once in Dira, and some of the walls fell down. So I told the children to sit on the ground and not to be afraid. But then the spiders seemed to go mad. They all began running about in a strange way, as if they didn’t understand what they were doing — one of them even ran into the river. Do you know why they did that?”
“Yes. The spiders are telepathic. So if one of them is hurt, the others can feel it. They were experiencing the death agonies of the other spiders. But what happened then?”
“Then the sky became dark with black smoke, and the children began to cough. The windows of the nursery were all broken, but no one seemed badly hurt. And then the commanders left — they took the boats and went back across the river. The smoke was getting worse, and I thought we might all choke to death. So I told my children to follow me, and we walked out. No one tried to stop us. All the streets were empty. So we walked towards the hills.”