Incredibly, the figurine was undamaged, although it was lying on its side. Again Niall raised the ax, this time turning the blade side downward. The cutting edge struck the figurine a jarring blow, breaking it into two pieces. One half flew across the room to strike the wall; the other disappeared under the bed. In that moment the malevolent presence vanished as abruptly as a light that is extinguished. The stench also vanished — so completely that it seemed incredible that it had left no trace behind.
Simeon said: “What in the name of the goddess was that?” His voice sounded breathless. He bent and picked up the piece of stone that had come to rest near his foot. It was the head of the figurine, and it had been severed in such a way that half the back was still attached to it. Niall dropped onto his hands and knees, and recovered the other half of the figurine from under the bed.
Simeon took it, and studied it closely. “This isn’t just a toad. It’s some kind of god.”
“How do you know?”
Simeon pointed to the tiny humanoid feet, which now struck Niall as oddly repellant. “Because it’s half man. . . look.” He placed the two halves of the figure together. The moment he did so, the threatening presence seemed to darken the air like a cloud, filling the room with its stench. Before Niall could shout a warning, Simeon had given a cry of disgust and dropped the figurine. The presence instantly vanished.
Niall asked: “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. It seemed to come alive.” He grimaced and spat. “It was like touching a slug.”
Niall cautiously picked up the upper half of the figure. But when he closed his eyes and withdrew into the still center of his mind, he could no longer detect any kind of force field. It was simply an ordinary piece of green stone, probably jadeite or nephrite, and the surface where it had been split glittered like fluorspar.
Jarita appeared in the doorway. She looked startled to find Grel in the room. But Niall could see from her expression that she had no idea that anything unusual had taken place.
She said: “Your guest is awake, my lord.”
“My guest?” He had no idea what she was talking about. “The guest in the room next door.” She made a gesture in which Niall detected an element of disdain.
He was startled. “How do you know?”
“I heard her trying the door.”
Niall snatched the key from his dressing table and hurried out into the corridor. As he unlocked the door, he experienced a curious mixture of anticipation and dread. But when he tried to open it, the door met some resistance. He forced it open a few inches, then saw the nature of the obstruction. The girl was resting against it in a kneeling posture, with her forehead against the wood. Her position suggested that she had been standing close to the door when she collapsed.
Niall pushed his way into the room, followed by Simeon. The movement of the door caused the girl to collapse sideways; as her cheek struck the floor, her mouth fell open. Simeon knelt beside her and took her wrist. Niall knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“She’s dead.”
Jarita, who was standing in the doorway, said: “She was alive half a minute ago.”
Niall said: “I know.”
He turned and pushed his way past Jarita.
Simeon called: “Where are you going?”
“To my brother.”
Fear compressed his heart as he hurried down the stairs and along the corridor that led to the courtyard. The thought of the dead girl filled him with baffled rage. What had happened was suddenly obvious. When he had split the figurine, the presence had vanished and the girl had recovered consciousness. But a few seconds later, Simeon had reunited the halves, and the presence had taken the opportunity to silence her. There was no point in feeling angry with Simeon; if he was to blame for reuniting the halves of the figurine, then Niall was also to blame for allowing it to happen.
The thought that now filled him with dread was that his brother might also have fallen victim to the force that had killed the girl. As he crossed the courtyard, he told himself that if his brother was dead, he would devote the rest of his life to destroying the magician.
What he saw as he entered the room made him feel as if his body had turned to stone. His mother was embracing Veig, her cheek pressed against his. Dona, who was standing by the bed, was crying. Then, as Niall hesitated, crushed and appalled, Veig’s hand moved to caress his mother’s hair. At the same moment, Dona turned toward him, and he saw that she was smiling. He sighed in an explosion of relief. A moment later, Veig was looking up at him with a puzzled expression, as if failing to recognize him. Then he smiled. “Hello, brother.” The large hairy hand made a vague gesture of greeting, then fell back onto the counterpane.
Niall, suddenly ashamed of his panic, could not trust himself to speak.
Dona said: “He’s all right now.” Something in her voice made Niall aware that her feelings were also deeper than she was willing to show.
Niall asked: “When did he wake up?”
“A few minutes ago.”
Siris asked: “Has the doctor gone?”
“No.” It was Simeon who replied as he entered the room. Grel hesitated behind him in the doorway. Simeon placed a hand on Veig’s forehead, and took his wrist between his finger and thumb. “That’s remarkable. His temperature’s back to normal.”
Siris said: “It’s your medicine.”
“Not entirely.” His eyes met Niall’s.
Dona asked: “Is he going to be all right now?”
“Oh, I think so. The poison seems to have worked its way out of his system.” He asked Veig: “How do you feel?”
“Better. Much better.”
“Give him some broth. He should be up and about in a few days.”
Dona flung an arm impulsively round his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Simeon was obviously pleased. “Don’t thank me. Thank him.” He gestured toward Grel. “He found out what was causing it.”
Dona stared at Grel with wide eyes. “What was causing it?”
Niall was anxious to avoid explanations. “I’ll go and tell the cook to bring soup.”
As they crossed the courtyard Grel said: “He is wrong. Your brother is still sick.”
“How do you know?”
“His bloodstream is full of life-suckers.” The image that accompanied the words was of leeches.
Simeon caught up with them. “Do you understand what’s going on?”
“I think so. The stone frog was more dangerous than I thought.”
“I realize that.” He added somberly: “I also realize it was my fault that the girl died.”
“No, mine. The Steegmaster warned me it was alive. I thought it had been neutralized.”
Simeon shrugged. “Nothing can bring her back now. But I’d like to know what it was trying to do to your brother. Why didn’t it kill him, too?”
Niall shook his head. “Perhaps because you dropped the halves before it had time.” He asked Grel: “What do you think?”
Grel hesitated before speaking. “I think, lord, that your brother will die anyway.”
Niall was shocked. “But why? He seems to be getting better.”
It obviously cost Grel an effort to speak his mind. “He has been poisoned by the enemy. Just as Madig was poisoned. I am afraid that nothing can save him.”
“Madig poisoned? But how?”
“Did you not see?” In the sequence of images that followed, Grel somehow caused Niall to identify with Madig, as if seeing through his eyes. He was standing in the cold hall of the magician, listening to the soft swish of garments descending toward him, then to the voice that said: “You will also tell your master that I shall hold your companions as hostages, and that unless his answer is satisfactory, they will also die.”
Niall’s hand was taken in a hand that was cold and rough. And although he was anticipating what was to happen next, he found it difficult not to scream aloud as the powerful grip threatened to crush his bones. But this time he observed something that he had failed to notice when listening to Qisib the Wise: that something sharp — like a needle-had pierced his palm close to the base of the index finger. He guessed that the magician was wearing a ring with a spike on it.
The voice came close to his ear. “One more thing. Tell your master that if he ignores my warning, his people will suffer a catastrophe that will make the massacres of Ivar the Cruel seem insignificant.” The hand released his. “You have one month — thirty days.”
Simeon was watching his face closely, aware that something strange was happening.