Grieving Tube said, “Yes, and clusters of them split from the main body to find other refuges. Ten daywalks was not too large a guess.”
The others, even Chaychind, were letting Vala speak. Vala said, “But a less sensible explanation spreads, too. The victim of a vampire will rise from the dead to become a vampire himself.”
“That,” said Harpster, “is purest nonsense!”
And of course it was. “Of course it is, but it explains how the plague spreads so rapidly. See it from the viewpoint of a—” Careful now. “—Hanging Person widow and mother.” Hanging People were everywhere. Vala set one hand on the beam overhead, lifted her feet to hang, and said, “What is to be done, lest my poor dead Vaynya become my enemy in the night? The lords of the night forbid us to burn the dead. But sometimes they permit it—”
“Never,” said Grieving Tube.
Vala said, “Starboard-spin from Center City by twelve daywalks, there are memories of a plague—”
“Long ago and far away,” Harpster snapped. “We designed the crematorium ourselves, taught them how to use it, then moved away. Years later we returned. The plague was beaten. The Digging People still cremated, but we persuaded them to leave their dead again. It was easily done. Firewood was scarce.
“You see the danger,” Vala said. “I don’t believe locals have started burning vampire victims yet—”
“No. We would see plumes of smoke.”
“—but if one client species begins, the rest might follow.”
Grieving Tube said sadly, “Then of course we’d have to do a deal of killing.”
Valavirgillin throttled a shudder. She bowed low and answered, “Why not begin now, with vampires?”
Grieving Tube mulled it. “Not so easy, that. They, too, command the night …”
And Vala’s eyes closed for an instant. Now it’s a problem, a challenge, and lesser species must see you solve it. Now I have you.
The Ghouls had cleared the grass away from a sizable section of tent floor. They were drawing in the dark, tweetling at each other in their own high-pitched language. They argued over some feature none other could see, and settled that, and Harpster stood up.
“When the shadow withdraws, you may examine these maps,” Harpster said. “For now let me only describe what you would see. Here, spin by port by two and a half daywalks, the ancient structure of an industrial center floats two tens of manheights above the ground.”
“I know of a floating city,” Vala said.
“Of course, near your Center City, a collection of free buildings linked. Floaters are rare enough these days. We think this one made machinery for the City Builders. Later it was abandoned.
“Vampires have lived beneath the Floater for many generations, for hundreds of falans. The perpetual shadow is perfect for vampires. Locals moved out of their reach long ago. Peaceful travelers and migrations were warned to avoid it. Warriors must look to themselves in that regard.
“This range of mountains to port and antispin of the Shadow Nest stands between there and here. It formed a barrier for the mirror-flowers. Hominids on the far side came to call it the Barrier of Flame, for the fire they could sometimes see playing along the crest.
“The flowers would ultimately have crossed the crest and burned out the Shadow Nest in their usual fashion. Vampires wouldn’t be safe from horizontal beams of light. But then the clouds came.”
Heads nodded in the dark. Harpster said, “The vampires’ range expanded by a daywalk. Grieving Tube is right, the damage is worse than that. Their population has grown, and hunger drives families of vampires into other domains.”
Valavirgillin asked, “Can you blow away the clouds?”
Both Ghouls hooted laughter. Grieving Tube said, “You want us to move clouds?”
“We beg.”
“Why do you think we could do such a thing as move clouds?”
Over the rising sounds of throttled laughter Valavirgillin said, “Louis Wu did that.”
Harpster said, “Omnivore Tinker. Not odd as hominids go, but from off the Arch, from the stars. He had tools to prove what he said he was, but we do not know that he made clouds.”
The Thurl spoke. “He did! He and the old Thurl boiled a sea to make these clouds above us—”
“Then go to him.”
“Louis Wu is gone. The old Thurl is gone.”
“We cannot move clouds. Our embarrassment is great.” Harpster laughed. “What can we do that you cannot do yourselves?”
The Thurl said, “We will use your maps, much thanks to you. I will lead an army of whatever species will fight. We will destroy this nest of vampires.”
“Thurl, you cannot go,” Grieving Tube said.
Harpster questioned. Grieving Tube began to explain, but the Thurl would not wait. “I am protector to my people! When we fight, I fight at the head—”
“In armor,” the Ghoul woman pointed out.
“Of course!”
“You must not wear armor. Your armor keeps your smell. You, all who fight, you must wear nothing. Bathe where you find water. Wash every surface of your cruisers and wagons. Can’t you see that the vampires must not smell you?”
Vala thought, Oh.
“The bottleneck is the fuel,” Chitakumishad was saying. “The Reds make a beer, it can be turned into fuel—”
“Go to your war by way of the Red pastures. We can send them the design for your distilleries by a secret means, tomorrow. Let them make fuel there while you make fuel here from your own stills and rotting grass. You will confront the Shadow Nest no more than a falan from now.”
Chit nodded, his own mind busy with plans. “Fuel to take two cruisers there and back—”
“You must cross the Barrier of Flame. I think your cruisers can do that. There are passes.”
“Takes more fuel.”
“Fuel to explore, or for towels or flame throwers, would come out of what you have. What of it? Only in victory will you need fuel to return here, and then your third cruiser can meet you, or you may leave one behind.
“Travel in mated pairs,” Harpster said. “Grieving Tube and I will travel together. Thurl, we know your customs, but from time to time your tribe divides. Do it that way. Tegger, you and Warvia believe you can resist the vampires. It may be so, but what of these others? Let them mate when they must, and not rish with bloodsuckers. Anakrin, Chaychind, you have no mates. You should go home …”
And the arguments began. No hominid here would uncritically accept a Ghoul’s plan for their war. But Vala remained silent and knew how much she had won.
They’re with us. They really are. And they’ll bathe …
Chapter 5
The Web Dweller
No telling how long the wizard had been there. The older children had gone into the Great Wood to compete at catching birds. The boy Parald threw with conspicuous grace; his net kept its shape longest, flew the farthest, though he’d caught only two. Strill was thinking how to speak to him, when she chanced to look up.
The wizard was out on the river, floating far above the silver water, on a thick coin-shaped support not much wider than a man is tall.
They shouted, beckoning him down. When he noticed them, he stopped his stately progress among the treetops, then descended gradually. He smiled and spoke in an unknown tongue. He was bald over most of his body, but that wasn’t rare among visitors.
They led him home, talking all the way. Some of the boys tested his knowledge with insults. Strill disapproved, and presently knew she was right.
The wizard never did learn their speech, barring a few basic words like “flup” and “rishathra,” but he wore a necklace that spoke like a teacher before they reached the village.
Anyone of a strange species might be a teacher. A wizard who flew, who was served by a magical translator, must have a good deal to teach.