Ascending the path to the cavern exit was considerably easier with the Carp's light, though Arthur was slightly shocked to see some parts of the path that he'd blithely walked along were not only narrow but the rock was crumbling on the edges as well. This time he traversed these sections with his back against the rock wall, trying not to think about how easily he could have put a foot wrong and fallen to his death.
It was a relief to get back outside. The sun was still shining, though it was a little lower in the sky. Coming out of the darkness, Arthur thought that the sunlight was tinged a little pink, like a grapefruit skin, and so the island was probably not a piece of his Earth, pinched off to become Feverfew's worldlet, but was from one of the myriad other worlds in the Secondary Realms.
"So, do we head straight back the way we came?" asked Suzy. "Cos if we are, I hope you know the way we came. I need streets and buildings, personally. Can't find my own elbow in these woods."
"The quickest path down from here goes round the shores of the Hot Lake," said Jebenezer. "Then we can strike nor"-nor"-east to the peninsula and follow that to the water gate. Only the pirates'll probably see us coming, either from the water gate, the fort, or the Shiver. We'll have to run the length of the peninsula, burst through the guards, and go into the Stomach."
"Is it a lack of faith to be thinking that we're all going to be slain or captured and sunk into the Hot Lake?" asked one of the four chosen archers.
"Yes," snapped the Carp. Its voice was more restrained now that it was out in the open. "Believe in Lord Arthur. Believe in your Carp. We shall prevail."
"Provided we get a move on," muttered Suzy.
I can't run the length of the peninsula, thought Arthur as panic began to make his stomach feel tight and his breathing shallower. I just can't run that far without having an asthma attack …
"Shall we take the quick path, Lord Arthur?" asked Jebenezer.
I can't run that far … I can't run that far … Arthur's thoughts were in a loop of fear and doubt. He felt like he was drowning in them, unable to think about anything else. Then all of a sudden, he felt, rather than heard, the Carp speak, inside his head. He couldn't describe it or see it, but he experienced the Carp's words as if he heard them and read them at the same time.
Have faith in yourself, Arthur. Take it one step at a time. Let us get to the peninsula. Then we shall take the next step. Perhaps we will not need to run. Perhaps you will run better than you think. One step at a time.
You can read my mind! Arthur thought back.
Not normally, replied Part Three of the Will silently, for Arthur alone. But your fear was so great that it opened the doorways of your mind. They are closing now, and I will not "Arthur! The quick path or not?" asked Suzy.
"Sorry," said Arthur. He shook his head and found it clear of the paralysing fear he'd felt a moment before. "Yeah, let's take the quick path."
"Florenza and Padraic, take scout," ordered Jebenezer.
The two Denizens he'd named looked at each other nervously, then slowly advanced into the forest, bows ready.
Twenty–seven
THE QUICK WAY down the hill would have been a very slow way if it had been up to Arthur or Suzy to find it, Arthur thought as they were led through seemingly impassable tangles of undergrowth, under arching tree roots, and between rocks. But within forty minutes they were back down to the flat area, skirting the Hot Lake, keeping just within the border of the forest before it died back and was replaced by bare, sulphurous yellow earth.
"It does stink," said Suzy as she tied a torn-off flounce from her dress over her face.
Arthur took a deep breath and was surprised to find that it went all the way to the bottom of his lungs. The air did smell horrible, like rotten eggs, but he could actually breathe it more easily than the cool, wet air of the hills.
Across the Hot Lake, Arthur could see Feverfew's yardarm. The pirate had simply transferred a mast and its yards from a captured ship, and set it right on the lake's edge, with a block and tackle to swing prisoners out and dip them. There was a viewing platform nearby.
"I reckon we've done it," said Suzy a little later, as they passed the eastern shore of the lake. "Plenty of time to spare too."
"Let's not talk about it till we're actually out of here and out of Drowned Wednesday's stomach," said Arthur. "Or, better still, getting served tea by Sneezer back in Monday's Dayroom."
"If you believe, all will be well," intoned the Carp.
Its words were punctuated for the worse by the thud of two things hitting the ground just ahead of Jebenezer. For a moment Arthur thought they were coconuts or large round fruit. Then he saw that they were decapitated heads.
The green-mottled heads of Florenza and Padraic.
"Feverfew!" croaked Florenza's head.
"Sorry!" whispered Padraic's.
"Don't forget to —"
"Stick our heads back on if —"
"You win."
"Give me to Arthur!" snapped the Carp. Jebenezer just managed to thrust the jam jar into Arthur's hands before a whirl of yellow dust swept around his feet and he froze like a statue. Another gust of yellow particles wound around Suzy as she drew her knife, and she froze too, as did the two archers who were bringing up the rear.
"I can oppose Feverfew's powers to some degree," said the Carp hurriedly. "But it is up to you, Arthur!"
Arthur stuffed the jam jar in his pocket and drew his sword. The dust-laden breeze kept whipping around him, but it had no effect, other than to make it hard to see.
There was no other sign of Feverfew.
Arthur turned in a circle, his eyes darting from side to side. Everyone else was frozen around him. He could see no movement. The lakeshore, only twenty paces away, was bare and empty. The sick-looking trees and undergrowth would hide someone, but only if they stayed still.
Where was Feverfew?
No one ever looks up …
Arthur jumped back and looked up, just as a shadow fell across him and a blade whistled through the air. The boy raised his own sword to block, felt a shock all along his arm, and sprang away, his back up against the rough, vine-covered trunk of a large tree.
Feverfew closed his wings and dropped to the ground, the sound of both wings and footfall clouded by the whine of the yellow wind.
He looked just like Arthur imagined a pirate captain would. Tall and dashing, his long black hair flowing, his black beard braided with jewels and smoking match-cord. He was handsome, as handsome as a superior Denizen, and his clothes were bright scarlet, rimmed with gold lace and had golden death's heads as buttons. He carried a cutlass with a blade of black iron that smoked as much as the matches in his beard.
He looked nothing like the horrid visitation Arthur had seen in the mirror. Until Arthur looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
Seen that way, Feverfew was a horrid, barely human thing. His skin was the red of severe sunburn, and shrunken against his bones. His eyes were like olive pits, black in red sockets.
He was not dressed in fine clothes, but covered in hundreds of pieces of paper. Papers of all different sizes and colours, all of them written on in a flowing, glowing script, all of them reeking of Nothing and sorcery.
"You bear the Red Hand," said Feverfew. Arthur heard the pirate's voice twice, the two voices just a little out of sync with each other. One was deep, melodious, and commanding. The other was high-pitched, whiny, and horribly penetrating. "You have stolen from me."
Arthur licked his lips and took a stronger grip on his sword. He only had one chance, he knew. A clean cut to the neck...