A moment, then a jerk and Dumarest drew back the rope.
"Embira!"
Sufan Noyoka followed leaving Marek and Dumarest alone.
"Your turn. Earl."
"Yours." Dumarest kicked at the empty packs. "Take those with you. Fill them with dirt and stone, anything which has weight. Tie them to the rope."
"I'm lighter than you are, Earl."
"Which is why you're going first. You may not be able to take my weight."
"The Knave of Swords," murmured Marek. "I was a fool. Not the Knave but the Lord. Without you-" He broke off then said flatly. "Earl, you realize you're trusting me with your life?"
There had been no choice-only he possessed the bulk to take the strain of the rope, the knowledge of what to do. Alone Dumarest checked the weight of the discarded equipment. The guns, the ammunition, the canteens, now almost empty, the food and other supplies. It wasn't enough. Without friction it could never hold his weight, and unless he had enough to anchor the rope, death was inevitable.
Death or the mist. A return to the heart of the city if he could make it. Injury and the torment of thirst if he could not.
Had the captain died trying vainly to reach paradise?
A tug and he hauled up the rope. It held only half the packs, each heavy with dirt. A second haul and he had enough. Dumarest lashed the packs, the guns and other things together, fastened them to the end of the rope, wrapped more around his waist. The loose end he threw over the wall, and without hesitation, followed it.
Timus Omilcar came running as Dumarest landed. The engineer was panting, sweat dewing his face. His voice boomed through the air as he came to a halt before the little group standing before the wall.
"You're back! Thank God for that! I was about to give up hope when I heard the gunfire. What happened? Where is the treasure?"
"There is no treasure," said Marek. "None we could carry and not what you hoped for."
"None? Nothing at all?" Timus searched them with his eyes. "Where's Usan?"
"We left her. We had no choice." Pacula added bleakly, "But she, at least, got what she came to find. The only one of us who did."
"No," said Dumarest. "Not the only one. You've been lucky, too."
"Lucky? How?"
"You came for money in order to search for your daughter. Haven't you realized yet that she stands at your side?"
"Culpea? No! Where-" She turned to stare at the girl. "Embira? Impossible!"
"Is it?" Dumarest stepped closer. Sufan Noyoka, he noticed, had backed a little, one hand fumbling at his wrist. "Think about it. Who was close when you lost her? You told me that Sufan Noyoka was in the area. Did you search his raft?"
"No. Of course not. He didn't-he wouldn't-Earl, she's too old!"
"Slow-time," he said. "Under it she would have aged a month in a day. Look at her arms. The elbows are scarred with inserts used for intravenous feeding. And remember how you felt when you first saw her, how you were drawn to her." And then, as still she stared her disbelief, "Look in a mirror, woman! Study her bones! You could have been sisters, you said, but the relationship is closer than that. She is your daughter."
"This is stupidity!" Sufan Noyoka's voice was brittle with anger. "Why are you talking like this, Earl? What is in your mind? What are you trying to do?"
"You deny it?"
"Certainly I deny it. Don't listen to him, Pacula. You have known me for years. Are you going to take the word of an adventurer against that of an old friend?"
She said uncertainly, "I don't know. I-how can I be sure?"
"You can be sure," said Dumarest. "There are tests which will prove it. We can do them in the ship. Sufan knows how to conduct them. He has biological knowledge and can settle the matter one way or the other."
"You're mad! Insane! Why should you think I have such skill?"
"Didn't the Cyclan teach you? Isn't that why you attended their laboratory? Why else did you visit them? Don't trouble to deny it, Marek saw you. You met there. Well?"
"I wanted advice. It had to do with Balhadorha. Earl, I warn you. Keep silent or-"
"You'll kill me as you did Jarv Nonach?" Dumarest shrugged. "You had to kill him, of course. He intended to leave and you couldn't allow that. Even less could you allow him the chance of being able to return. He could have charted a course and robbed you of your discovery and so he had to die. It was simple, a poison in his pomander, and how could you be blamed? And now that you know what lies in the city how many others do you intend to kill? Pacula? She isn't necessary. Marek? Perhaps, after he has helped to guide you. The engineer later-they come cheap. The only one you really need is Embira." Pausing, Dumarest added bitterly, "The girl you stole and had changed in the laboratories of the Schell-Peng. Blinded and trained, taught under slow-time, artificially aged, robbed of her childhood-and you call yourself an old friend!"
"You did that!" Pacula's face was that of a savage beast. "Sufan, you filth!"
"He's lying! Don't you understand? He's lying! Why should I do a thing like that?"
For answer Dumarest gestured at the city.
"For this. The dream of a lifetime, you said, and I believe you. As I believe those who called you mad. A madness which stopped at nothing. You needed the girl because of her genetic trait, one inherited from her father. He could see in the dark, you said, Pacula, but what more? Would you have known? Would he? But Sufan guessed and the Cyclan confirmed it. They told him what must be done if he hoped to fashion her into an instrument with which to navigate the Hichen Cloud. Eight years ago. Marek, when did you meet? Eight years ago? Nine?"
"About nine, Earl. Yes."
"And the land you went to examine, Sufan's land. A trap into which you fell, Pacula. He had the child drugged and hidden in his raft. Later he took her to Chamelard. If you doubt me the tests will decide."
Sufan Noyoka said, "That will be enough." His hand rose from his sleeve, metal glinting in the light. A laser, small but powerful enough to burn and kill. "A mistake, Earl. I was careless. I should have left you behind on Chamelard."
After he had won possession of the girl-but he could have had another reason and Dumarest suspected that he had. One which had determined his choice of action.
Pacula said, "Sufan, are you saying-"
"But of course, my dear. Earl is shrewd and has guessed the truth, but why be so upset? What is a single child worth against what we have found? And she is here, handicapped a little, perhaps, but with a unique talent."
He stepped back as she lunged toward him, hands extended, fingers reaching for his eyes. The laser blurred as he lashed out with its weight, the impact of metal against her temple loud in the heavy air. It lifted as she fell to lie twitching on the dirt.
"Move, Earl, and I fire. Not to kill, naturally, but you could do little with crippled legs. In fact it would be a sensible precaution. The knees, I think, and the elbows." The laser leveled in his hand.
Marek said, "No! Sufan, you can't!"
"You hope to stop me?" The weapon swung in Sufan's hand. "I need you, Marek, but can make do without you. You too, Timus. Stand back the pair of you. And think of the treasure-what is one man's life worth against what the city contains? I promised you wealth, and you shall have it, more than you can imagine. The Cyclan can be generous when it suits their aims. And now-no!"
Too late he realized his mistake, the lapse of attention which was all Dumarest needed. His hand dropped to his boot, lifted with the knife, steel hurtling as Sufan snouted, the blade turning as he fired, one shot which seared the tunic at Dumarest's shoulder.
Then he was down, blood streaming from his, eye, staining his face, the dirt, the hilt of the knife buried in the socket and penetrating the brain.