After lying face downward on the grass for ten minutes, Ulic had recovered enough to stand up. He made his way with slow steps under the branches of the Judas tree, and seated himself against its trunk, closing his eyes. A few moments later he opened them again.
“Nothing’s happening.”
Niall looked up at the branches; there was not the faintest movement. Milo said:
“Perhaps the temperature’s too low up here.”
Simeon shook his head. “In that case, why is the tree growing here? It would starve to death.” As he went and sat down beside Ulic, his face wrinkled with disgust. “You need a good bath, my boy.” His expression changed. “Yes, of course! That’s it! The tree won’t attack you because you’re coated with the slime from this monstrosity.”
Manetho called: “There’s a stream down here.” Helped by Milo, Ulic made his way unsteadily down the slope; he pulled off his clothes and plunged into the waist-high water. When he emerged, five minutes later, Milo handed him a spare tunic; it was yellow, and too conspicuous, but it was an acceptable alternative to his grey travelling garment, which was already stiffening with the glutinous slime. When he sat down under the Judas tree a second time, the branches gave a slight shudder, and began to bend slowly downward. The others went and sat beside him, their backs against the broad trunk, and Niall experienced once again the delightfully refreshing sensation that was like sitting in a shower of very tiny water droplets. The tiredness seemed to drain out of his body, producing for a moment a sensation close to pain. When he smelt the strange, sweet gas, he opened his eyes, and saw that the branches were now touching the ground. He shook Doggins, who was sitting beside him.
“We’d better move before we get eaten.”
Reluctantly, they crawled out of the green tent. Some of the branches made a half-hearted attempt to fix on their flesh, but were easily brushed aside; the tree obviously relied on reducing its victims to a state in which they were incapable of resistance.
Niall’s weariness had vanished, but the muscles of his calves ached from the long climb. He asked Ulic:
“Do you feel strong enough to go on?”
“I think so.” But he said it without enthusiasm.
Simeon said: “It will be dark in a couple of hours. Perhaps we ought to start looking for a camping site.”
They struggled into their packs, and continued to march along the ridge. But the experience of the ground squid had shaken them all, and they kept their eyes fixed on the path in front of them. Half a mile further on, Simeon halted and pointed to a grassy clearing just below the level of the road. “Look, there’s another of them.”
At first they failed to see what he meant. Then Niall was able to distinguish the irregular dark patch among a circle of blue daisies.
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. Look closer.”
Cautiously, they edged towards it; Doggins was holding his Reaper at the ready. With a thrill of horror, Niall realised that he was being watched; what looked like small patches of white fungus were actually eyes, which narrowed as they came closer.
Doggins spat with disgust. “I’m going to kill it.” As he spoke, the thin blue flame, like an illuminated glass rod, struck the patch of black earth. There was a violent hissing noise, like escaping steam; they all jumped back in alarm as the squid erupted out of the ground, its tentacles waving; the stench of decay struck them like a blow. As the beam of the Reaper sliced it in two, the stench increased. A moment later they were all hurrying away, sickened by the smell of the creature’s burnt flesh.
Simeon cried suddenly: “Stop!”
They all halted. Simeon said: “We are going too fast. What if one of these creatures was lying in our path? We are risking our lives.” He looked at Doggins. “It is better not to kill until we have to.”
Doggins saw the justice of the reproach. “I’m sorry. I just thought the earth would be a better place without that thing.”
Simeon shrugged. “That is your decision. But if it makes us careless and imprudent, then it is a bad decision. Let us walk slowly and pay attention to the road.”
Already the light was beginning to fail. When, half an hour later, they reached another clearing, they could see that the sun was touching the top of the western hills.
Ulic leaned with his back against a tree.
“Could we stop now? I’m very tired.”
His face had become pale, and he was sweating.
Doggins looked at Simeon. “What do you say? Shall we camp here?”
Simeon scanned the ground. “I think it’s safe.”
With relief, they threw their packs on the grass. Ulic lay down on his back and closed his eyes; within moments he was fast asleep. While Manetho went to fetch water, Niall and Milo collected firewood in the undergrowth; both of them carried their Reapers at the ready, but encountered nothing that alarmed them. Niall found a bush with wild strawberries; although still slightly underripe, they were delicious. Half an hour later, they were sitting around the fire in the gathering dusk, eating a substantial meal of cooked lobster flesh — Simeon had carefully packaged the remainder of the meat from the claw — goat’s cheese, dry biscuits with butter and wild strawberries. They washed it down with a cup of the golden wine. By the time they had finished eating, they had ceased to feel themselves surrounded by menace, and had again begun to regard this expedition into the Delta as an exciting adventure. Provided they observed proper caution, it seemed fairly certain that they had nothing to fear. Yet whenever he glanced at Ulic — who was continuing to sleep soundly — Niall experienced a twinge of anxiety. His face looked too pale, and his breathing was hardly visible. When Milo tried to shake him awake to eat, he opened his eyes, smiled, and shook his head. After that, Niall observed how often Simeon glanced at Ulic’s sleeping face, and felt his heart contract with foreboding.
As the dusk changed to darkness, Manetho threw more logs on the fire; soon the clearing was illuminated with the leaping flames. Niall yawned, and wondered if he could decently retire into his blankets.
Something plunged out of the darkness with a whirring noise, struck the back of his head, and then flew into the fire. They all leapt to their feet. It was a brightly-coloured moth, with a wing span of two feet. Singed by the flames, it fell into the fire, and its frantically beating wings filled the air with sparks and ashes. Manetho seized a dry branch and struck the moth to the ground, then killed it with a single blow. But they had no sooner resumed their seats around the fire than two more moths descended out of the darkness and made straight for the flames. Their sheer size meant that they scattered glowing fragments of wood all over the clearing. Above them, more wings flapped in the darkness. But the fire was now merely a mass of glowing embers and hot ashes, and there was not enough light to attract moths. So they lay there in the darkness, which still smelt of woodsmoke and scorched cloth — where embers had fallen on the blankets — and talked quietly about the prospects for the next day, and about how the beetles and the spiders would react to their disappearance. Niall once again spread out the metallic garment on the grass as a groundsheet, and wrapped himself in two blankets; he used his spare tunic from the haversack as a pillow. Gradually, the conversation lapsed; then someone began to snore softly.
He was drifting into sleep when Milo’s voice woke him up. Milo said softly: “Simeon.” There was no reply; it was Simeon who was snoring. Milo repeated “Simeon” in a louder voice. Doggins’ voice asked out of the darkness: “What is it?”
“I think Ulic’s dead.”
They all woke up. Manetho used the tinder box to kindle a flame. But by this time, Niall had placed his hand on Ulic’s forehead, and he already knew that Milo was right. Ulic was cold and still. The flame showed that his face looked as pale as marble. Niall experienced a wave of pity and sorrow.
Simeon said: “But what killed him?” By the tiny flame of the burning shavings, he examined Ulic’s bare arms, then his legs. As the flame hovered over Ulic’s knee, Simeon pointed.
“That’s what did it.”
The right knee was swollen, and looked bruised. On closer examination, Niall could see the tiny puncture mark in the middle of the swelling. Simeon said:
“That damned thing must have had a sting. I thought he was limping. . .”
There was nothing to be done in the darkness. They covered Ulic’s body with a blanket, and moved it closer to the glowing embers, as if the warmth might revive him. Then, once again, they lay down to sleep. Although he could see and hear nothing, Niall could sense that Milo was crying.