'Yes, sire,' said Tithonus, and left without another word.
Blue knew better than to push her father at a time like this, but in the event she didn't have very long to wait.
Tithonus entered after a discreet knock and announced formally, 'Prince Comma, Your Majesty.' Comma came in looking distinctly shifty, as if he expected to be accused of something; but since he had a nose for trouble, this was much his usual attitude around his father.
'I'd like you to stay, Tithonus,' the Emperor said. 'Please sit.' He looked gravely from one to the other. 'Comma, I asked you here because you are next in line to the throne after the Crown Prince. Holly Blue, you are a blood member of House Iris, so what I have to say concerns you too.' He drew a deep breath and sighed. 'Tithonus, you are my Gatekeeper and in the present circumstances I shall need your counsel more than ever before – there is a possibility we may be facing a covert act of war.'
Blue's jaw dropped and she looked at Comma, but he was staring sullenly at his shoes. Tithonus seemed impassive as ever.
The Emperor went on, 'Blue, I know how close you are to Pyrgus and if I knew any way to break this gently I would. I'm afraid your brother, the Crown Prince, may soon – ' he stopped, then corrected himself ' – will soon be dead.'
T know about the filter,' Blue cut in quickly. 'The portal may have shrunk him, but he's clever. I know some people get killed, but Pyrgus can look after himself, no matter what size he is. And it won't last for ever – the Chief Portal Engineer told me himself he'd come back to his normal size and he can always hide until – '
Her father gestured her to silence. 'It's not the filter, although clearly that was part of a broadly based assassination attempt. But the critical factor was never the portal. I believe that was tampered with as back-up to make sure Pyrgus could get no help when he discovered he'd been poisoned.'
'Poisoned?' Blue exclaimed, eyes wide. Comma looked up from his shoe inspection and even Tithonus seemed stunned.
The Emperor said tightly, 'The Senior Medical Priest has just informed me that the vaccine ampule used on Pyrgus was tampered with. There are traces of triptium on the syringe.'
'What's triptium?' asked Comma, speaking for the first time.
The distress was evident on the Emperor's face. Tithonus put in softly, 'It is a drug sometimes used by Darkside assassins.'
The Emperor said, 'Thank you, Tithonus, but they deserve to hear the whole truth.' He turned back towards Blue and Comma. 'Your brother has been injected with a slow-acting toxin. The substance reacts with natural agents in the bloodstream and spreads almost like a bacterium. There are no symptoms at first, but after a period of time – it can vary from a few days to about two weeks – the triptium collects in the brain and begins to ferment. As the pressure builds, the person experiences nausea and increasingly severe headaches. Eventually – ' He swallowed.' – eventually – ' He stopped, unable to go on.
'What?' Blue demanded, terrified. 'You must tell us what!'
The Emperor closed his eyes. 'Eventually his head explodes,' he said.
Eleven
Pyrgus watched Henry leave with a feeling close to nausea. He'd moved on to Mr Fogarty's shoulder now and the old boy smelled a bit, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was… the problem was… well, there wasn't just one problem. There were so many problems he hardly knew where to start thinking about them.
He didn't like being small and powerless, for one thing. All his life he'd been able to do things for himself, even as a kid. Now he couldn't even talk without the magical pack strapped to his back. And it wasn't magic he understood. This was his first trip to the Analogue World and its magic was completely different from the magic of his own.
But that was just the immediate thing. He kept thinking of the Chalkhill and Brimstone glue factory and the kittens that would drown for every day he stayed here. He kept thinking of his father and the negotiations that were going on with the Faeries of the Night. Most of all, he kept thinking about the comment Mr Fogarty had made when Pyrgus told him how the filter on the portal had failed. Sounds to me like you were sabotaged. It sounded to Pyrgus like he was sabotaged as well, and the more he thought about it, the more he believed it. The question was, who had sabotaged him?
It had to be somebody who wanted him dead. Pyrgus had no doubt at all about that. Sending you to a strange location without preparation or guards was asking for trouble. He hadn't mentioned it to Mr Fogarty or Henry, but all the history books told how hundreds, even thousands, of early visitors to the Analogue World had lost their lives within an hour of arrival. In time, of course, the Faeries learned to take precautions – and the greatest precaution of all was the filter -but until then, the Analogue World had been a death trap. It had come very close to killing him inside the first hour as well. If Henry hadn't happened along, the cat would have crunched him like a mouse.
But his biggest problem was how would he get back? That thought came crashing down on him like storm waves on a rocky shore. Natural portals existed in both worlds at once. You went through, you turned round, you went back. About as easy as it got, assuming the portal didn't open at the bottom of the sea. But the modified portal in his father's palace worked differently. Because you could aim it to open anywhere in the Analogue World, it had no permanent existence in the Analogue World at all. It appeared where you aimed it once you switched on the power and closed again once the power went off.
Pyrgus tried to collect his thoughts. If he'd been sent to the South Sea island as his father planned, the gate would have stayed open long enough for his guards to report everything was shipshape, then closed again. After that, the palace technicians would probably have reopened it at an agreed time every day to make sure no problems had arisen.
'What's the matter?' Fogarty asked.
Pyrgus realised he'd started at the thought. They may reopen the portal,' he said.
'Who?'
'The people who sent me.' He'd decided to keep unnecessary details from Mr Fogarty until he knew him better.
'When?'
'I don't know. I'm not sure they will. I was just thinking what would have happened if I'd gone where I was supposed to go. Once I'd got there safely, they'd have opened the portal maybe once a day to check up on me.'
'How would they know you'd got here safely?' Fogarty asked.
Pyrgus glanced at him admiringly. Fogarty might be old, but he certainly wasn't stupid. His father must know something had gone wrong by now. The priests and wizards would be trying to find out exactly what. They'd be trying to locate him and get him back. That should have been reassuring, but somehow it wasn't. He'd no idea how you traced somebody who'd been translated to the wrong place – or even if you could.
'In this case they wouldn't,' Pyrgus said, answering Mr Fogarty's question. 'I mean they wouldn't know I'd got here safely. But they would know I hadn't got to the Pacific island safely.'
It sounded confusing even to him, but Fogarty seemed to get the hang of it because he said, 'Your people will know something's gone wrong and they'll start looking for you?'
'Yes. Almost certainly.'
'So they'll reopen the gate if we hang around here long enough?'
'I'm not sure. I suppose so. It depends if they can figure out where I went. I'm not supposed to be here.'
'So you said,' Fogarty said shortly. 'Listen, if they did open the portal again – suppose they figured out where you'd gone and opened the portal again – would it open at the same place you came through?'