Miphon made no reply to that, but finished off his sewing. Drake had got blood on his hands. Miphon sponged the blood away. Which was unnecessary, but. . . nice. The touch of his firm, competent hands was . . . strangely relaxing.
Having cleaned the hands, Miphon started removing bloodstains from Drake's sealskins.
'No need for that,' said Drake, standing. 'The job's done, aye. Done well. I'll be off now. Oh – but I'll need a bandage for my head first.'
'For what do you need a bandage?' said Miphon. 'Fresh air and sunlight, that's the thing. Whoever does the doctoring on your ship, get them to check your wound daily.''How do you know of the ship?' said Drake.
'Do you think your vessel stands invisible?' said Miphon. 'This island is well-watched, though you may not have noticed the watchers. Everyone on Burntos knew of your ship long, long before your rowing boat ever reached for the shore.''Why so much effort spent watching?' said Drake.'Because experience tells us it's necessary,' said Miphon.And, dipping a hand into the pocket where Drake had hidden the blades he had filched off the bench, Miphon recovered his cutlery.
'Man!' said Drake, wide-eyed with wonder. 'How did those fancy little blades get in there? They must be magic, man! They must have flown through the air and slipped themselves inside there, for I swear I never touched them.'
'I'd find it hard to believe you,' said Miphon, 'except that I did indeed see them fly through the air and hide themselves in your pocket.'
'How did you manage to see that, when you were looking the other way at the time?'
'Being of elven descent,' said Miphon dryly, 'I have invisible eyes in the back of my head.'
On leaving Miphon's clinic, Drake thought about going back to the kitchen. No! Not a good idea! He had no chance against Oronoko. Better to wait till evening came. Then Zanya would preach. He would watch. Look for an opportunity.
One thing was for certain: he was not leaving Burntos without Zanya. But for the moment. . .
The sun was well up. The island was baking. Oven-dry. Wet patches of mirage shimmered on the barren rock.
Drake tried to imagine a soldier's life. Day after day on this lifeless rock. The inhuman discipline of parades. Inescapable routines. Not much variety in the food, either, if what he'd seen in the kitchen was anything to go by.
He saw, in the distance, a few stray figures standing beside a long, low, isolated building. His comrades? Only one way to find out. . .
On closing the distance, Drake found his captain in conversation with two officers of the Landguard, who looked very smart indeed in their skyblue uniforms and their red leather open-weave sandals. Drake wondered what chance he had of stealing one of those uniforms. It would look real good on him, once the useless height had been cut out of it.
Slagger Mulps did not bother to greet Drake. He was talking money. His double-thumbed fists gesticulated as he emphasized his points.'Where's the others?' said Drake.
Mulps did not condescend to notice him, but continued talking. His hands squeezed air, chopped it, shaped, thrusted and sliced. A dance of digital articulation, a counterpoint to his voice.
'. . . must understand our funds are not unlimited. I'm working under strict limitations, as I'm only an agent for a-foreign buyer; I've got scant discretionary powers. You've already heard my uppermost offer.'
'You must be getting a commission,' said one of the officers. 'If you really want to close the deal, perhaps you'll have to sacrifice a few percentage points of that commission. Because what you call your uppermost offer is in fact – and I'm sure you're aware of the fact – close to farcical. Our product is unique. You can't buy it elsewhere.'
' Yes,' said Mulps.' But demand is minimal. That colours the case somewhat, does it not?'
Drake, losing interest in this dickering, wandered round the windowless building. He found a huge iron- studded sliding door at its southern end. Strange. He kicked it. The door rattled slightly. Then shook with a thunderous crash, as if a giant had kicked back from within. Startled, Drake leapt back.'Who's there?' he said.No answer.
He continued his circumnavigation of the building. Right down at the northern end he found a slim doorway leading into the gloom.
He went through the door, and found a narrow passage which twisted left, then right, then left again, before opening into a small room lit by a slim overhead light-shaft. Bucks Cat and Ish Ulpin were there, down on their hands and knees staring into what looked like a giant mousehole.'Hi,' said Drake. 'What're you looking at?''A monster,' said Bucks Cat.
'Let's see,' said Drake, and knelt down in front of the hole, which was large enough for him to have crawled through had he wanted to.
He found himself looking into a long hall, dimly lit by overhead lightshafts. Something was in there. What? He saw a gleam of something cool white, like ivory. A tusk? A feeding spike! There was a Neversh in there. Drake's knees began to ache from kneeling on the stone, but he did not rise. He was fascinated.'Amazing,' he said. 'How did they get it in there?'
'The Neversh flew to the island,' said Ish Ulpin. 'It found all meat fled within the stone. Seeking flesh, it went through the only door – then some hero closed the door and trapped it.'
'But why would a Neversh go into this – this trap if there was no meat within.'
'Oh, there was meat,' said Ish Ulpin. 'It's done like this. A few people stand by the large doorway to tempt the Neversh inside. Then they flee to this end of the building and escape through the bolthole which you're looking at.'
'Man,' said Drake, with a shudder, 'they'd need to be heroes indeed to risk a face-to-face with a brute like that. I'm glad I'm not such a hero.''Of course you're such a hero,' said Ish Ulpin.
And he and Bucks Cat grabbed Drake. They forced him into the bolthole.
'Yaaa!' screamed Drake, struggling, bruising his shoulders on the walls of the giant mousehole.
The monster within stirred to life. Its wings beat, battering against the low 'stone' roof. Its eight crocodile- sprawling feet tore screams of protest from the rock floor. Suddenly, Ish Ulpin and Bucks Cat stopped pushing. Drake thrust himself back. And felt something snag his arm.'It's got me!' he screamed.
The Neversh had spiked his right arm with the tip of one of its grapple-hooks.'Help!' screamed Drake. 'It's dragging me in!'
'We've got you!' yelled Bucks Cat, hauling on Drake's legs.
Drake felt his hands, greased with sweat, slide over the smooth stones of the mousehold as the Neversh dragged him toward his doom. Then agonizing pain ripped through his right arm. The grapple-hook had torn free. Pulled by Bucks Cat and Ish Ulpin, Drake shot out of the mousehole like a burst of water exploding out of a blowhole.
The three pirates collapsed in a heap on the floor. There was a hideous sound of ripping rock as the monster tried to tear its way through to the flesh which had just escaped. Drake got to his feet. He shambled through the dark, twisting exitway, colliding off first one wall then another.
A slash-sharp swash of sunlight. A giddy horizon. Swaying. The ground, buckling underfoot. Breath quick, heart quick. Quick to bursting. Glanced at the sun. White. Swaying. The sea was shuddering. The ground rocked underfoot.'I can't come right!' he cried.
Tried to walk. Staggered, drunk, as the earth buckled. The ground split black in front of him. He screamed. The crack in the rock sprinted towards him. He jumped. Legs wide apart. The widening crack raced between his legs. Then slammed shut. Opened. Slammed. Opened. Slammed. Opened.
Drake jumped sideways. Tried to run. Fell. Saw Bucks Cat weaving from side to side, his black face shining with sweat and sunlight. Saw Ish Ulpin, the tall pale man floundering, grasping at air.
