"Then what do you believe was the reason?"

"Could it have been because they wanted the wall to be built?"

Grel was obviously puzzled by Niall's line of reasoning. "But the wall was built to keep them out."

"But it also served the purpose of keeping your people in."

It took several moments for Grel to grasp the point. When he did so, he gazed at Mall with an air of almost reverential astonishment. "Truly, you have more discernment than Qisib the Wise." Then his mind was beset by doubts: "Yet how can we be certain of something that happened so long ago?"

"We cannot be certain. But consider what the Lord Qisib told us. First: that Cheb the Mighty sent an expedition to the lands of the north, and learned that the ice had retreated, and that the marshes were full of birds and other wild game. Then Kasib the Warrior sent Madig to select a site for the new city. Was it by chance, do you think, that Madig's party was waylaid and carried into captivity? Or was it because the magician was keeping watch for any sign that the Death Lord was extending his territory, and was determined to prevent him from establishing a new capital in the northlands?"

"But the northlands were the home of Cheb the Mighty. Why should he not return home?"

"Because the ice had retreated. The Death Lord himself told me that when he was born, the world was suffering from a great ice age when the snow fell day and night, and the sky was always dark. In such an age, there would be no temptation to explore. But when the ice melted, the northern lands ceased to be cold and forbidding. And if Kasib the Warrior had established a capital in the wastes of Kend, would he have been contented to rest there? Would he not have turned his attention to the Gray Mountains in the west, with their wide valleys?"

Grel listened with a mixture of astonishment and incredulity. Niall continued: "The Lord Qisib also told us that when Tubin went in search of Madig, he found only his dagger, which was pointing toward the Gray Mountains. Were his captors so stupid that they failed to notice a dagger driven into the ground? Is it not more probable that they themselves set the dagger there?"

Grel was troubled. "But why should the enemy tell us where he could be found?"

"As a warning and a message. He was telling the Death Lord: the Gray Mountains are my territory -- keep away. But the Death Lord sent hundreds of spider balloons to search the Gray Mountains and the wastes of Kend, making it clear that he regarded them as his territory."

"Then what purpose was served by harassing the city of Cibilla?"

"He knew that this would enrage the Death Lord into launching an attack."

As Grel grasped the implications of these words, he reacted with shock. "You are saying that the Death Lord and his army marched into a trap?"

"That would explain many things."

Grel seemed stunned. "But how could the enemy cause the great storm?"

"I do not know. But I know that all magicians believe they can control the weather."

As if in answer to this remark, a low roll of thunder echoed across the city. Niall had been so absorbed in the conversation that he had not even noticed the dark clouds that had drifted across the sun. Now he realized they were close to the main square, and the clouds were reflected in the milky surface of the white tower as if in a mirror. A few moments later, the first light drops of rain spotted the pavement; within seconds, it had turned into a heavy downpour. All over the square, humans and spiders ran for shelter as the hammering of rain turned the pavement into a white mist. When the rain began, they had been within a few yards of the palace; yet by the time they stood under its portico, both were drenched. Water drops ran like pearls from Grel's shiny black coat; some of them also gathered on his many-faceted eyes, so that he was forced to shake his head.

A few minutes later, the downpour had ceased. But the sudden change in the weather had made Niall reflective. It had made him recall the snow that had fallen only three days ago, and how quickly it had vanished. "All magicians believe they can control the weather. . ." Now his own words were like an echo whose meaning eluded him.

Could there be any significance in the fact that Skorbo's death had been accompanied by a fall of snow?

His train of thought was disturbed by the opening of the door. It was Dona, dressed in a cloak with a waterproof hood. Her gaze was so abstracted that for a moment she failed to recognize Niall. When she did, her face brightened. "Where have you been?

We've been looking for you all night."

"I'm sorry. . ."As he looked into her eyes, he experienced a sudden sense of foreboding. "Is anything wrong?"

"It's Veig. . ."

His heart turned to lead. "Is he. . ."

"He has been unconscious since last night."

As Niall started to follow her inside, he remembered Grel. "Please come inside and wait. I have to go to my brother."

He followed her along a corridor and across the courtyard, to the older part of the building; Veig occupied two large rooms on the ground floor.

At first sight, Veig seemed to be dead. He was lying on his back, and the black- bearded face looked pale and thin. His mother was sitting on the side of the bed, with her hand on Veig's forehead; she looked exhausted. Simeon was seated on a chair on the far side of the bed.

Niall went to the bedside, and touched his brother's cheek. He was relieved to find that it was warm. But when he probed Veig's mind, he realized that he was close to death.

The fever had disappeared, but so had the determination to live. All conflicts had disappeared; in their place there was a flat calm that was like an endless plane of grayness.

Siris said: "He was asking for you."

"I'm sorry." Her face was as bloodless as Veig's. He felt an overwhelming rush of affection, a desire to take her in his arms and comfort her. "Why don't you go and rest?

I'll sit with Veig."

"No, I'd rather stay." He knew she meant that she would never forgive herself if Veig died in her absence.

Once again Niall probed his brother's mind. It was like trying to plunge into a sea of nothingness. This grayness was somehow cold and repellant, resisting all efforts to see beyond it. Even to contemplate it had a numbing effect on his senses. What puzzled Niall was that a sleeping mind should be a mysterious whirlpool of forces, not a closed door.

And even as he was about to abandon the effort, he seemed to sense Veig's presence behind the closed door. Then the grayness returned, as uniform as a blanket of snow.

Simeon stood up. "I'll come back later." Siris nodded without even raising her head.

Niall followed Simeon from the room. "Have you any idea of what's wrong?"

"Only that it's not a poison. It's some kind of bacterium."

"How do you know?"

"It was visible on the microscope slide -- it looks like hundreds of black rods."

"And it came from the blade of the ax?"

"Of course. You saw me take a scraping. But there's something very odd about these black rods. Most bacteria can't survive apart from a living body. But when I dissolved the scrapings in salt solution, it was immediately swarming with bacteria, like a pond full of tadpoles." He pulled a face. "And now Veig's bloodstream is full of tadpoles."

"And do you think they came from Skorbo's blood?"

"It's possible. I just don't know."

They emerged into the hallway; it was empty except for Grel, who was standing in the center of the marble floor with the total immobility that was so characteristic of spiders.

Niall said: "I am sorry to keep you waiting. My brother is ill."

Grel said drily: "That does not surprise me."

Niall looked at him in astonishment. "Why do you say that?"

"Because this place is full of evil."

"Evil!"

"Can you not feel it?"

Niall allowed his mind to blend with that of the young spider. The first thing he noticed was Grel's state of nervous tension, as if he was watching the approach of an enemy. Then, with startling suddenness, he himself was aware of the cause of the tension.

It was so obvious that he was surprised that he had failed to notice it earlier. It was the now-familiar sensation that he was in the presence of some dangerous entity. He had experienced this same sense of danger in the presence of the force field of the pendants.

Yet this vibration was subtly different: at once more powerful and less obtrusive.

Niall turned to Simeon. "Do you know if any strangers have been admitted while I have been away?"

"Not as far as I know. I've been here most of the night."

As soon as Niall's mind lost contact with that of the spider, the sense of danger receded. Yet because he had been alerted to its presence, he remained aware of it as a disturbing vibration, like something glimpsed out of the corner of the eye.

He asked Grel: "Is there someone here -- some enemy?" He spoke aloud, so that Simeon could understand.

"There is some evil presence. We should summon my father, and have this building surrounded by guards."

Simeon asked: "What did he say?"

"He said we should summon the soldiers."

Simeon looked around at the silent hall; the only sound was the clatter of cooking utensils from the kitchen.

"I think he's imagining things. No one could get past the guard."

"No, he's speaking the truth. I can sense it too." He asked Grel: "Where do you think this enemy is hiding?"

Grel extended his pedipalps like feelers. "He is upstairs somewhere."

Niall experienced a cold sensation. He knew that his sisters would now be eating breakfast in the nursery, and that since Dona was in Veig's room, they would probably be alone. As Niall started up the stairs, Simeon said: "Let me call the guard."

Niall shook his head. "If it's a man, that shouldn't be necessary." Even a spider as young as Grel could paralyze a man into immobility.

He paused on the first landing, and tried to soothe his senses into total immobility; but there was too much adrenaline in his bloodstream, and it was impossible. Instead, he stood and waited for Grel to join him. With his pedipalps still extended the spider turned right, and continued on up the second flight of stairs. As he did so, Niall experienced a sudden flash of intuitive certainty: where else would an enemy wait for him but in his own room? And when Grel paused in front of the door of Niall's chamber, and stayed there in a state of uncertainty -- the spider claw was not designed to handle doorknobs -- Niall tiptoed past him and stood with his ear pressed against the cold wood. There was not the slightest sound from inside. Very slowly and deliberately, he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

His chamber looked so normal that for a moment he was inclined to wonder if they were making some absurd mistake. But the tension in Grel's attitude -- he looked like a snake poised to strike -- made it clear that he could still sense danger. Since this room was empty, then it must lie either in the bedroom or in Jarita's scullery. The bedroom door was standing slightly ajar; Niall gave it a violent push so that it flew open.

A glance inside told him that there was no one there -- from this position he could even see under the bed.

As he hesitated, debating whether to investigate the scullery, or to summon the guard, Grel advanced past him and into the bedroom. He crossed the floor in a single stride, and, to Niall's surprise, halted in front of the table at the side of the bed. This contained only an oil lamp, a glass of water, and a neatly folded tunic that had been placed there by Jarita. Yet it was at this tunic that Grel seemed to be directing his attention.

Niall went and stood beside him. "What is it?" He reached out cautiously, and twitched aside the tunic; all that it covered was the green figurine that he had found in the hideout of the assassins.

In his relief, he allowed his mind to relax; as soon as he did so, he realized that Grel was not mistaken. This squat figure, with its froglike face and bulging eyes, was the source of the force field that was filling the room with its curious vibration of menace.

Moreover, as Niall removed the cloth, the entity seemed to become aware of their presence. In that moment, Niall was gripped by an acute sense of danger. His reaction was instinctive and instantaneous; he struck out and knocked the figurine onto the floor.

As his hand touched it, he was convulsed by a feeling of nausea that was like an unutterably foul stench; it was so powerful that it seemed to distort his senses. As he looked round the room for some weapon, his eyes fell on the ax that was standing in the corner beside the wardrobe. It had been there since Simeon had taken scrapings from its blade, and its head was wrapped in a piece of sacking. Fighting off a desire to vomit, Niall tore off the sacking and raised the ax above his head; positioning himself carefully, he brought down the back of the blade with all his strength. It struck the figurine squarely, and the force of the blow almost split the floorboards beneath it. A moment later, he was engulfed by a wave of malevolence that burst over him like a flood of slimy water, the sheer rage of a being who could not believe that someone had dared to attack him.

Incredibly, the figurine was undamaged, although it was lying on its side. Again Niall raised the ax, this time turning the blade side downward. The cutting edge struck the figurine a jarring blow, breaking it into two pieces. One half flew across the room to strike the wall; the other disappeared under the bed. In that moment the malevolent presence vanished as abruptly as a light that is extinguished. The stench also vanished -- so completely that it seemed incredible that it had left no trace behind.

Simeon said: "What in the name of the goddess was that?" His voice sounded breathless. He bent and picked up the piece of stone that had come to rest near his foot. It was the head of the figurine, and it had been severed in such a way that half the back was still attached to it. Niall dropped onto his hands and knees, and recovered the other half of the figurine from under the bed.

Simeon took it, and studied it closely. "This isn't just a toad. It's some kind of god."

"How do you know?"

Simeon pointed to the tiny humanoid feet, which now struck Niall as oddly repellant. "Because it's half man. . . look." He placed the two halves of the figure together. The moment he did so, the threatening presence seemed to darken the air like a cloud, filling the room with its stench. Before Niall could shout a warning, Simeon had given a cry of disgust and dropped the figurine. The presence instantly vanished.

Niall asked: "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. It seemed to come alive." He grimaced and spat. "It was like touching a slug."

Niall cautiously picked up the upper half of the figure. But when he closed his eyes and withdrew into the still center of his mind, he could no longer detect any kind of force field. It was simply an ordinary piece of green stone, probably jadeite or nephrite, and the surface where it had been split glittered like fluorspar.

Jarita appeared in the doorway. She looked startled to find Grel in the room. But Niall could see from her expression that she had no idea that anything unusual had taken place.

She said: "Your guest is awake, my lord."

"My guest?" He had no idea what she was talking about. "The guest in the room next door." She made a gesture in which Niall detected an element of disdain.

He was startled. "How do you know?"

"I heard her trying the door."

Niall snatched the key from his dressing table and hurried out into the corridor.

As he unlocked the door, he experienced a curious mixture of anticipation and dread. But when he tried to open it, the door met some resistance. He forced it open a few inches, then saw the nature of the obstruction. The girl was resting against it in a kneeling posture, with her forehead against the wood. Her position suggested that she had been standing close to the door when she collapsed.

Niall pushed his way into the room, followed by Simeon. The movement of the door caused the girl to collapse sideways; as her cheek struck the floor, her mouth fell open. Simeon knelt beside her and took her wrist. Niall knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"She's dead."

Jarita, who was standing in the doorway, said: "She was alive half a minute ago."

Niall said: "I know."

He turned and pushed his way past Jarita.

Simeon called: "Where are you going?"

"To my brother."

Fear compressed his heart as he hurried down the stairs and along the corridor that led to the courtyard. The thought of the dead girl filled him with baffled rage. What had happened was suddenly obvious. When he had split the figurine, the presence had vanished and the girl had recovered consciousness. But a few seconds later, Simeon had reunited the halves, and the presence had taken the opportunity to silence her. There was no point in feeling angry with Simeon; if he was to blame for reuniting the halves of the figurine, then Niall was also to blame for allowing it to happen.