'Let's try, anyway,' said Neeps.
The tree was farther than they thought, and taller than it had looked from afar. But when they reached it they found that its roots formed a kind of raised lattice over the filth and mud. They dropped, exhausted, and found it surprisingly comfortable, like a firm hammock.
For twenty minutes they lay on their backs, staring up into the vines and branches, wordless.
Then Neeps said, 'We should have jumped at Ormael.'
'No,' said Pazel. 'You were right. We didn't stand a chance.'
'But what'll we do now?'
Pazel leaned his head back. 'I'll tell you. We'll climb this tree and figure out where the shore is. We'll make our way back there by nightfall and walk east along the inside of the dunes. We'll be halfway to Ormael by sunrise.'
'No ye won't, my Chereste heart.'
Druffle leaned around from the far side of the tree, grinning. As the boys leaped to their feet he did the same, cutlass in hand. He had never looked more deranged.
'You're foxy,' he said, cornering them against the trunk, 'but not foxy enough for Druffle. I picked this tree out an hour ago, and watched you slog up to her. Nice of you to do that-I was wrung out, and that's the truth.'
'Mr. Druffle,' said Pazel, eyes on the long blade, 'you're not really this sort of man, are you?'
Druffle's grin faded. He appeared deeply struck by the question. 'No, I'm not,' he said.
He looked at the cutlass, and heaved a great sigh. Then he plunged it into the mud and leaned on it with both hands. 'I've just had such rotten luck. You understand, boys?'
They assured him emphatically that they did.
'I've made mistakes!' Druffle cried suddenly. 'Never denied it! Dollywilliams Druffle isn't one to blame others for his faults. But all the same, rotten luck.'
He shook his head, grimacing. 'Ashamed, ashamed,' he murmured.
'Don't be, sir,' said Pazel.
Druffle gestured helplessly at the Fens. 'Nobody expects to be reduced to this! Time was I could afford a decent ship, and proper mercenaries. Disgraceful! I've never seen such bad shots in my life! Why, they didn't even wound you! Still, I suppose I'd better call 'em in.'
He straightened and cupped a hand to his mouth. But no shout came: instead he doubled over with a gasp. Neeps, who had guessed sooner than Pazel what Druffle was ashamed of, had dug a stone from the mud and hurled it point-blank at Druffle's side. It was a good-sized rock, and Druffle reeled, glaring like a fiend.
It was their one chance. Pazel groped for a weapon, found a fallen tree limb and swung it with all his might. The branch cracked across Druffle's back, and the wiry man staggered and cursed. He stabbed: the blade fell an inch short of Pazel's chest. Neeps, finding no further rocks, was reduced to flinging mud. Pazel swung his branch again, but Druffle dodged like a snake and clubbed him down with the hilt of his cutlass. The next instant Pazel felt the blade against his windpipe.
No one moved. Druffle wiped blood from his eye.
'I actually liked you two,' he said. 'Honest, my dears, I liked you. But orders are orders. The Customer said I was to kill any boy who raised his hand against me. As an example to the rest.'
'An example?' Neeps whispered.
'You have it, lad.'
'But we're all alone,' whispered Pazel.
'You could just tell him you killed us,' said Neeps.
Druffle looked gravely insulted. 'Lie, you mean? For shame, lads! In business, your word is your bond! Learn that, or you'll never get anywhere.'
He lifted the cutlass. But instead of bringing it down on Pazel's throat, he raised his eyes to the horizon, as if savoring a thought. Then his jaw fell open and he toppled backward into the swamp.
Neeps leaped forward and kicked away his blade. 'Out cold! What happened? Is he dying?'
Pazel slapped the man's cheek. Not an eyelid flickered. He bent an ear to Druffle's mouth.
'I don't think he's breathing, Neeps.'
'I'm a murderer,' Neeps whispered. 'I must have cracked his liver with that stone!'
At that moment came the startling sound of birds' wings. The boys jumped away from Druffle, and saw the oddest creature imaginable: a barn swallow with the face of a woman. The tiny creature swooped low past their heads, beat its wings fiercely for a moment and came to rest on Druffle's back.
'You're no murderer,' she said, looking at Neeps. 'And he is not dead.'
On the Trail of the Sorcerer
3 Teala 941
81st day from Etherhorde
'Diadrelu!' cried Pazel.
For it was she, in an astounding feathered cloak that seemed to turn her arms into wings, her body into that of a dusky bird. Neeps was speechless: he had never in his life beheld an ixchel, let alone one that could fly.
'What are you doing here?' Pazel cried out.
'Saving your lives,' said another voice. 'Isn't it obvious?'
Pazel knew that voice: it was the younger ixchel, Taliktrum. There he was, swooping down in a suit like Diadrelu's. Pazel flinched, remembering how Taliktrum had scraped his knife back and forth behind his ear.
Diadrelu turned to Pazel. 'You spoke of our presence aboard the Chathrand,' she said severely. Then she continued more gently: 'But it was only to pass word that one of our kin lay in chains, and so we pardon you.'
'What's she talking about?' cried Neeps, still looking as though he expected to be bitten.
'It's a long story,' said Pazel.
'Not so long,' said Taliktrum with a shrug. 'He gave my aunt his word. He did not keep it. Some of us died as a result, and if the girl spoke as well, before she fled the ship, Rose and his killers may be murdering our whole clan. That's the story.'
'Thasha fled the Chathrand?'
'Yes,' said Dri. 'She slipped away into Ormael, and no one knows her whereabouts. The governor's men are tearing the city apart: her wedding is but five days off. But she did not reveal our presence, as you well know, Taliktrum-not even to her beloved Ramachni, the mage. It was the rat Felthrup who told him.'
'They're crazy, right?' Neeps looked desperately at Pazel.
'Diadrelu,' said Pazel, 'what brings you out here?'
'A conspiracy,' she said gravely.
'A merchant,' said Taliktrum. 'A fat man who sells soap.'
'Soap?' said Pazel. 'You mean the Opaltine fellow-Ket?'
'That is one name he uses. But come: we have miles to cover before nightfall, and the Volpeks hunt you still.'
'What about Druffle? What did you do to him?'
'Something very costly, for us,' Dri said. 'We pricked him with an arrow soaked in blanй, or foolsdeath. He will soon wake: the arrow bore a minimal dose.'
'Why do you carry such a strange poison?'
'That's none of your business,' snapped Taliktrum. 'The poison saved you from this man's blade-isn't that enough?'
'There is much to discuss,' said Diadrelu. 'Once we reach higher ground.'
The ixchel led them north, flying from branch to branch, returning to rest on the boys' shoulders. Flying clearly was no easy matter for them, for they had landed exhausted, and Pazel wondered how on earth they had journeyed so far from the Chathrand.
But if the ixchel were tired, he and Neeps were wrecks. They slogged along after Dri and Taliktrum in a dumb
