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Supporting him, they ran down the No. 4 ladderway. There were bodies spread-eagled on the stairs; one man lay sleeping with a biscuit clenched in his teeth. The gun decks lay silent as a morgue. Lonely cries of Help! and Wake up! echoed from the darkness.

But farther down there were signs of life. On the orlop, men shouted and lanterns blazed. Turachs were dragging sleepers into cabins with sturdy doors. Far below, Pazel could still make out the howling of the rats.

They descended the narrow ladderway to the mercy deck, and hurried to the central compartment. Just inside the doorway they met Hercol and Chadfallow. The doctor spoke with quiet urgency. 'Get to the stateroom, you three! The fight here is lost!'

Lost? Pazel looked past the doctor. Sailors and Turachs filled the deck; the only rats in sight were dead ones. But of the hundreds of men, only a few dozen remained on their feet, and most of these were clustered about the tonnage hatch, staring into the hold, weapons in hand. The voices of the rats issued up from this darkness, cursing and insulting the men.

Even as Pazel looked, one of the men on guard began to sway. At once another sailor came forwards and and took his spear, pushing him away from the hatch.

'Rose and Haddismal are doing their best to keep up appearances,' said Hercol. 'The rats do not yet suspect what is happening. They are not affected: the ixchel did not bother to poison whatever slime or sludge they find to drink.'

'How many rats are left alive?' said Thasha.

'Too many,' said Hercol. 'A hundred, perhaps more. They are thick about both hatches, and both ladderways, yet hiding from our archers. We can kill no more without an assault on the hold, and there are not enough of us for that. I doubt, in fact, that we could stop the creatures, if they attack in force. Only their ignorance protects us now.'

Captain Rose walked the perimeter of the compartment, issuing calm orders as though nothing were amiss. Haddismal was peering down side passages, signalling his Turachs, pulling in every last man.

'There is another threat,' said Chadfallow. He leaned closer to the youths, and sniffed. 'Oil,' he whispered. 'Can you smell it? The ship's lamp oil is stored in the hold, and it has been spilt. Maybe the rats simply ruptured a barrel or two by accident. But we have seen them running with mouthfuls of rags and straw. And caught glimpses of firelight as well.'

'What's happening?' said Pazel. 'When they attacked in the hold they were like a pack of mad dogs. No plan, no clear thinking, except for Mugstur.'

'That has changed,' said Hercol. 'You can hear that they are screeching less. Bolutu thinks that Master Mugstur is calming them, giving them a way to understand the terror of their altered minds. If so they will become more dangerous by the hour.'

'Breathe not a word of this,' added Chadfallow. 'The men's spirits are low enough already.'

At the hatch, another man staggered away from his post. Seething, Captain Rose watched him fall. Then he turned and stumped towards the group at the doorway. His eyes were fixed on the youths.

'This is crawly work? You admit as much?'

A pause. Then Hercol said, 'Yes captain, it was done by ixchel.'

For a moment Pazel thought Rose would strike him. But just then Mr Alyash ran up to them, bearing a bright fengas lamp.

'The barricades are ready, Captain,' he said. 'They'll not be able to swarm up the ladderways again. Provided we have men left to seal them, after our retreat.'

Rose nodded. 'That is something. But not much. We must poison them, by the Night Gods, we must drop sulphur into the hold. You have found no way to seal the hatches against them?'

Alyash huffed. 'Without men to stand guard? There is no way, sir. They've shown us how fast they can chew through sailcloth and oil skins. We could cannibalise planks from the upper decks and nail 'em across the hatches, but that job would take half a day — even if we lost no more men.'

Pazel felt Neeps' hand squeeze his arm. The small boy was just barely awake.

'A drug,' he murmured.

'Yes, Neeps, it's a drug,' said Pazel.

Neeps gave his head a drunkard's shake. 'Find… another drug.'

'An antidote, you mean? No chance, didn't you hear Taliktrum? They never had very much, and it's all gone now. And even if he's lying, we'd never find-'

Neeps slapped a clumsy hand over Pazel's mouth. 'Another drug,' he said heavily. 'Something else. Delay it. Delay.'

With that he was gone. Pazel caught him and lowered him to the deck.

Chadfallow was looking at him with wonder. 'This drug they use, this blane,' he said. 'Is it magical?'

'Who knows?' said Pazel.

'I do,' said Thasha, 'and it's not. Blane is just brilliant medicine. In fact the ixchel know more about human bodies than we know ourselves. They've experimented on us, over the years, just as we have on them.'

Everyone stared at her. It was another of those mystifying certainties Pazel had begun to expect from Thasha. But was she right? He shuddered, remembering the clock.

'Delay it,' said Thasha. 'Is that possible? Even if there's no antidote, couldn't we take something to hold off the sleep? Long enough to build those hatch covers, anyway?'

'A counteragent?' mused the doctor. 'Theoretically, yes. But I know nothing of this blane! To find the right compound would take days of testing.' He glanced at Rose, and something in the captain's face made him add, 'Unless I got very lucky.'

Rose seized the doctor's arm and turned him bodily towards the ladderway. 'Get lucky doctor,' he said, 'that's an order.'

He needed help, Chadfallow said, and Pazel and Thasha promised to give it. Hercol, however, lifted Neeps and tossed the small boy over his shoulder. 'I will bear him to the stateroom, and meet you three at sickbay,' he said, and was gone.

It was sickbay and not the surgery that housed the Great Ship's medicines. Chadfallow and the youths raced upward again, taking three steps at a time. The middle decks were now completely silent. On the ladderway they passed just one conscious man — a Turach, stumbling on his feet, eyes half-closed. As Thasha passed he embraced her suddenly.

'Lady Thasha,' he slurred. 'Love you, love you. Goin' t'inherit a farm, see? Make you happy. Lots of kids-'

'Oh good gods.' Thasha pushed him away.

They reached the lower gun deck, and dashed along the short passage to sickbay. There to Chadfallow's delight (and Thasha's, Pazel noted) they found Greysan Fulbreech, wide awake, tending a ward full of sleeping men.

'Doctor!' he cried, 'I have lost three patients! The rats came down the Holy Stair from the main deck. They broke the latch on the door. If the Turachs had not come, everyone here would have been killed.'

'Including you,' Pazel heard himself say. Fulbreech did not even look at him. But Thasha did, reproachfully.

'Clear a table!' shouted Chadfallow, storming in. 'Listen, all of you. We are going to behave like potion-peddlars on the streets of Sorhn. I will hand you something; you will go out and find men on the verge of sleep — not uttterly lost, but failing. Make them take what I give. Tell them whatever you like. Watch them, see if they grow more alert. Then rush back and tell me. And meanwhile send anyone else you can find to me directly. Ah, sheepsgaul! Put this in some water, Greysan.'

Moments later they were out the door. Thasha had a vial of white chilli oil, Pazel a yellow pill the doctor called Moonglow. They ran straight to the topdeck; it was closer than the mercy, and the only other place they knew of where men were still awake in any numbers.

Or had been. Pazel gazed over the deck and felt his heart sink. He had hoped that he would find men still battling the sails, keeping the Chathrand from gliding faster towards the Vortex. But there were simply not enough of them. From where he stood, Pazel counted nineteen — make that eighteen, there went another to his knees — largely unoccupied sailors, wandering among the sleepers, shouting out prayers, making the sign of the Tree. Some kicked their shipmates in despair, begging them to wake. Pazel squeezed the pill in his hand. 'This had better work,' he said.