The doctor was rocking the child gently as it slept. “Awaale will remain here to watch him,” he decided.
“I will?” asked Awaale.
“And when the tyke gets hungry, he’ll stick its little mouth on his big black nipple?”
“Where is the nearest settlement?”
“With living people in it? Probably the caves over in Hoq.”
“He will deliver the child to Hoq, then.”
“For what? It’s been exposed; they’ll just kill it. Should do it now and save you and them all the time and trouble.”
“I can’t kill it,” the doctor said. “I
Warthrop instinctively pulled the child closer to his chest and changed the subject. “What happened to your Russian friends?”
“The same thing that happened to the girl out there—that happens to anyone who touches the rot of stars. It started out well enough. Mating season had just begun, and the casualties were limited; the sultan had it quite under control, contained to a couple remote villages. They isolate the plague, you see, rather like a smallpox outbreak, and let it burn itself out. Sidorov and company traced the nexus to the birthing grounds, deep in the belly of the mountains, and then one of the fools got strung up by his vanity. He literally put his foot in it—stepped in a fresh puddle of the
“And Sidorov?”
“Oh, it got him, too. What day is this? Tuesday? Isn’t it funny how unimportant the days of the week become? Anyway, I think it was Thursday last that it took him.”
“Took him?”
Kearns nodded. “To the nesting grounds, where I’m taking you. If you still want to go.”
“What does it look like?” Warthrop asked. He did not wish to ask John Kearns that question—he wasn’t confident he’d get a straight answer—but he couldn’t help himself. The dead in his wake compelled him. He’d sacrificed them to know the face of the Faceless One.
“Well, it’s quite large,” Kearns replied in a serious tone. “Huge, actually. Been around as long as us, hopping from island to island to roost before going back into hiding for a generation or two. The males aren’t very bright, rather indolent, I would say, like a lion, sitting back and letting the females bring home the spoils.”
“But what is their appearance? Are they reptilian? Avian? Or are they more closely related to the flying mammals, like bats?”
“Well, their brains are quite small, like a lizard’s or a bird’s, but they don’t have wings. They’re covered in thorns—like a rose!—and their hides are very pale and thin, their claws sharp, and their digits are quite dexterous. Well, we all know the intricacy of their nests.”
“So they lay eggs, like a bird or reptile.”
Kearns shrugged, smiled. “Haven’t seen an egg—wouldn’t want to. Can’t imagine how that might happen.”
“How many are there?”
“Here on Socotra? Hundreds, I would guess.”
“Hundreds?” The monstrumologist seemed shocked.
“In the world, I would say thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Millions. As many as there are grains of sand on this blessed island’s beach. Look up, Pellinore. How many stars are there in the sky? That’s how many
My master realized that he was wasting his time. He fell silent, and Kearns fell silent, and then there was the sound of the wind and no other sound for some time.
“If this is one of your tricks, I will kill you. Do you understand?” the doctor said at last.
“Oh, really, Pellinore. I
He asked for his rifle back. Warthrop refused.
“They’ll be here soon, and I’d rather be armed,” Kearns argued. “
“Who?” demanded Awaale. “Who will be here soon?”
“The rotters,” Kearns answered. “The children of
“I do not trust this man,” Awaale said. “His name is true. He is
“If I wanted to kill you, I had my chance hours ago,” returned Kearns reasonably.
“Will Henry,” the doctor said. “Return Dr. Kearns’s gun to him.”
Awaale muttered something under his breath. Kearns laughed softly. Warthrop rocked the baby in his arms, his expression as troubled as the baby’s was serene.
And thus we waited for the children of
