"He has to, Reyna. It's our ticket out of here, if there is one. I can't use Walrus, Victor, or Johna"the doctor. I need them where they are."

"But howa""

"Talk to him, Reyna. Tell him he has to give it to me if he wants to get home."

Reyna sighed, then hugged Toby even closer to her. "Toby?" Reyna said in K'ung. "We have to talk about something important."

Toby answered with a grunt.

"We need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk."

Toby abruptly drew away from Reyna, then hugged the Nal-toon close to his body. "I don't understand," he said thickly. "The blood of the Nal-toon is mine; it is a gift to me from G.o.d. It is very powerful medicine."

"The Nal-toon provided you with blood when you needed it for pain," Reyna said after a long, thoughtful pause. "Now it is needed to help us escape the warriors who are hunting us. It is needed because the Nal-toon wishes to return with you to your people. For that to happen, we need the blood."

"Why?"

"Veil will tell us. He has a plan. He is our chief, and we must do as he says."

"No!" Toby cried, wrapping both arms around the Nal-toon. "My father is chief, not this man!"

Suddenly, close by, church bells began to peal; their sound, clanging and insistent, vibrated in the air.

Reyna could think of no reason why church bells would be rung after sundown. "They toll for thee," she whispered in K'ung.

"What?"

"Nothing, Toby."

"The voice of the Nal-toon speaks differently here."

Reyna felt a chill run through her, and she sat up straighter. "Yes," she said carefully. "What you say is truea"the Nal-toon does speak differently here." She paused, took a deep breath. "Tonight, Toby, the Nal-toon's voice is for you alone. It means that you must decide what your G.o.d is saying. I tell you that I will never betray you. I tell you that I will die before I will allow you to be captured and the Nal-toon taken away. I also speak for Veil. You must trust Veil, as you must trust me. We want to take you home. Veil has said that he needs the blood-shilluk in order to accomplish this, but it is you who must listen to your heart, and the voice of the Nal-toon, and decide whether or not he is telling the truth and can be trusted."

Toby sat very still for a long time, staring vacantly at a point somewhere above Reyna's head. Finally Toby held the Nal-toon out to the woman. His hands were steady. Reyna bowed her head to Toby, then reverently handed the Nal-toon to Veil, who had stepped into the small circle of light cast by the fire's burning embers.

Veil set the idol down, knelt, bowed to the idol and then to Toby. "Tell him I have to crack open the bottom," he said quietly. "Only the bottom. I won't damage anything else."

"He's given up his G.o.d to you, Veil. It means you can do with it what you want."

"I want his permission."

"Toby," Reyna said in K'ung, "Veil and the Nal-toon wish to honor you by asking for your personal permission to open the base so as to remove all of the blood-shilluk. It must be done."

Toby nodded slightly in Veil's direction. "The Nal-toon has spoken to my heart and told me to trust this man."

"It's all right, Veil."

Veil sat down next to Toby on the floor of the crypt. He braced the Nal-toon across his knees with his left hand, then placed the fingers of his right against the false plywood bottom and began to apply steady pressure. The cracked wood squeaked. Veil stopped and glanced at Toby, but the bushman was staring straight ahead, his face impa.s.sive. Veil applied sudden, intense pressure, and the plywood cracked apart. Toby shuddered slightly, but otherwise did not react.

Veil quickly pulled the jagged pieces of plywood from around the base, then reached inside the hollowed-out idol. He pulled out three plastic bags, each one slightly larger than his fist. Two of the bags were intact, but the heroin in the third was trickling from a small gash in the plastic, caused by a plywood splinter. Veil pinched the bag closed, then set it down on the floor next to the others. "There it is," he said quietly. "That's what all the shooting is about."

Reyna whistled softly. "Pure white heroin. There must be enough junk there to supply all the city's addicts for a year."

"Does it bother you, Reyna?"

"No," Reyna answered evenly. "There's no craving. All that happened to me . . . it's like it happened to another person, in another lifetime."

Veil took out his handkerchief and poured some of the heroin from the broken bag into it. "You'd better save this for Toby," he said, holding the handkerchief out to Reyna. "He'll need it."

Reyna studied Toby's face for a few moments, finally shook her head. "No," she said. "He won't need it."

"He's in a lot of pain, Reyna, and we may have to move fast. He's an addict now, and he'll start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if he doesn't get it. This doesn't seem like the time to expect him to kick the habit cold turkey."

Reyna turned to Toby, spoke in K'ung. "Veil has said that you are a great warriora"but he does not yet fully understand how great. He thinks that you still need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk, but I know you do not. You are with us now, and you no longer have need of the blood-shilluk. Your pain and sickness will still be great, but now the Nal-toon asks you to bear the pain without the great gift. Can you do this?"

"Why do you insult me?" Toby replied, looking away.

"He'll do without the heroin, Veil."

"Reynaa""

"He'll do without it," Reyna repeated in a firm voice. "He has to get off it sometime, so he may as well start now. Besides, I a.s.sume you don't want him s.p.a.ced-out."

"I don't want him in pain," Veil said, folding the handkerchief and placing it next to the plastic bags.

"He'll be all right, Veil. What happens now?"

"First I want to say something," Veil said, reaching out and squeezing Reyna's hand. "You put up a good front, but I know what it cost you to go out there alone. Carl Nagle's out there someplace waiting for usa"and you know it. I just want to say that I think you're one h.e.l.l of a woman."

Reyna smiled. "Why, thank you, sir."

"I have to leave for a little while. I will be careful. I'll be back, and I'll try not to take too long."

"All right," Reyna answered in a small voice.

"Just in case, you have the telephone numbers fora""

"I don't want to know about any 'just in case,' Veil. You make sure you come back."

Veil picked up the broken plastic bag and put it in his jacket pocket. "See you later," he said, and slipped out into the night.

Chapter Seventeen.

"Hey, you."

Veil watched as the man started, then quickly turned and nervously peered into the darkness.

"That's right, you!"

This time the man drew a gun from a shoulder holster and pointed it over the stone wall separating the sidewalk from the cemetery. "Who's there?!"

"Just stand still and listen," Veil said softly. "Do what I say, and you could end up with more money than you'll know how to spend."

The man grunted angrily, put one hand on top of the stone wall, and vaulted over it into the darkness beyond. He landed on an incline and cursed as he fell. However, he was a lithe, agile man and was almost immediately up on his feet, running toward the spot from where he thought the voice had come. There was no one there. He searched the surrounding area as best he could in the moonlight but still found no one. He listened, gun held ready, but could hear only the sound of his own, slightly nasal breathing.

"Okay," the man said through clenched teeth as he slowly turned. "I'm listening."

Veil let the man wait. Ten minutes went by before the man cursed under his breath, turned, and walked back the way he had come. He was back at his post on the sidewalk when Veil spoke again.

"Hey, you, dummy. You almost blew it, pal. I picked you because you looked fairly bright. It just goes to show that looks can be deceiving. I want you to stand still and listen. A few minutes of your time could be worth millions to you. If you're not interested, I'll go talk to somebody with more brains. I know there are at least a half dozen of you guys hanging around."

"I'm listening. What's this about millions?"

"What's your name?"

"Sloane," the man said after some hesitation.

"All right, Sloanea""

"You Kendry?"

"First go up the block and tell your buddy that you have to take a c.r.a.p or something. You have to come with me for a few minutes, and everything will be explained to you. If you try to tip off your buddya"if anyone tries to follow us ina"you've blown it. Just keep thinking of what you could do with a few million dollars."

"Okay," Sloane mumbled. "Don't go away."

"Just remember to do exactly as I said."

As Sloane walked away, Veil moved silently through the trees and underbrush on a parallel course. He listened to the exchange between the two gunmen, then moved back with Sloane.

"I did it," Sloane said to the darkness beyond the wall. "What now?"

"Throw your gun over the wall."

"Hey, now, hold on a second!"

"You don't want to do it, don't. I'm gone."

"Okay!"

"Keep your voice down. And move slowly. You're going to be a rich man if you keep your cool, Sloane, but you'd better make up your mind. You told your buddy you'd be back in ten minutes."

Sloane withdrew his gun from its holster, tossed it over the wall.

"Now you come over. Easy does it. Move off to your left."

Sloane did as he was told. He'd gone about fifteen yards into the cemetery when Veil suddenly appeared in front of him. Sloane stopped walking and stared at the muzzle of his own gun, which was pointing at his chest.

"You are Veil Kendry, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Nagle talks a lot about you," Sloane said with a crooked smile. "I'm waiting to hear what you have to say, Kendry."

"Don't be impatient. Keep moving to your left, but stay inside the trees. Watch how you walk. You attract any attention with those big feet of yours, and I disappear."

Sloane squinted in the smoky air and grunted. In the dim, flickering light of the small fire he could just make out the objects of Nagle's hunt. The woman and the African. The idol.

"Here, catch," Veil said as he perfunctorily tossed the torn plastic bag at Sloane. Startled, the man juggled the bag in the semidarkness. White powder floated in the air, then slowly drifted down to the ground. "That's pure heroin. Check it out for yourself."

Sloane's hand trembled as he put a thumb and forefinger through the tear in the plastic, pinched some powder, tasted it. "Jesus H. Christ," he murmured. "I can't believe you're throwing this s.h.i.t around."

"Good stuff?"

"Good?" Sloane wore a slightly dazed expression on his face. "What's left in this bag is worth a fortune. I'd heard rumors that this guy was carrying around something big . . ."

"I a.s.sume you'd know how to get rid of it?" Veil asked wryly.

Sloane had begun to sweat. His eyes were teary from the smoke and he rubbed them. "A little bit at a time, over the years," he said in a dry, cracking voice. "Maybe. It's suicide to cross the big guys on something like this."

"So? Like you said, you can spend the rest of your life selling it off in small bits. It sounds to me like a great way to beat inflation. On the other hand, they tell me that money is power. With the money you could get from the sale of that heroin, you might grow pretty big yourself."

The man could not take his eyes off the bag in his hand. "If they caught me, they'd take me apart with a chain saw," he said distantly.

"Getting big money means taking big risks, Sloane. You can always turn us in and collect a few thousand from your boss, can't you? You'll sleep bettera"but you'll also be making peanuts for the rest of your life while those 'big guys' jerk you around. Sooner or later small potatoes like you end up in jail, anyway. When you get canned for some penny-ante crime, you'll have plenty of opportunity to think about this opportunity you p.i.s.sed away."

Sloane finally looked up from the bag. His eyes were round and bright in the firelight. "What am I supposed to do for this?"

"You've already earned what you're holding in your hand; you can walk out of here with it. Think of it as a down payment. There are two more bags like that onea" bigger, because they're not torn. That bag's been dribbling for days."

"Jesus."

"Do as I ask and they're both yours."

Sloane's eyes went back to the bag in his hand, then to the fine powder strewn on the ground around the glowing embers of the fire. "What do you want me to do?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

"What time do you get off?"

"I was supposed to be relieved an hour and a half ago."

"Then somebody may be there when you get back, so you'd better come up with a good story. First, we need a car. Rent one, don't steal it. Leave the car parked at the curb, on this side of the street, at the place where I spoke to youa"or as close as you can without being spotted. Bring the keys and the rental slip to me, here."