“She’s alone now?” Hildra actually sounded worried.
“I had a few whalers stay to guard her. Captain Greggory was there, too. I just wish I knew more about the attackers. Whether they mean to try again.”
Janx shrugged. He was bare-chested, and when he rolled his huge shoulders blood oozed around the bandage on his back where Muirblaag’s face had just been inked. A fly idly buzzed around it.
“If they do, we’ll be ready,” he said.
From his perch on Hildra’s shoulder, Hildebrand hooted in agreement. Webbing ran between the fingers of the monkey’s right hand, and his teeth were sharper than they should be, some almost needle-like. Metallic green scales showed along part of his neck and back. Other than that, the little primate had come through being infected by the sea quite well, although he had been sick for nearly a week after the party was picked up by the Verignun.
“Look at this.” Avery produced the weapon the would-be assassin had used against Layanna, and its jewels winked under the sun. Avery had told the police the water had swept it away, but there had been no way Avery would let such a weapon escape him. It could kill a Collossum.
“A sacrificial knife,” Janx mused.
“Think I saw one like that in Vasnir,” Hildra said. “Maybe it couldn’t kill a whatsit, but it looked a lot like that one.”
“Vasnir?” Avery asked.
“You know. One of the sewer towns under Hissig.”
Avery smiled. It was an old urban legend, the mutant cities in the sewers. “There are no such things. Anyway.” He returned his attention to the knife. “It seems they wanted to kill her according to their rites.”
When they reached the hospital, Layanna glanced up from her bed, where she sat cross-legged behind Ani. To Avery’s shock—and bark of startled laughter—Layanna was braiding Ani’s hair. Ani had short dark hair, and the braid wouldn’t be very long, but the girl was smiling happily as Avery closed the door.
“What do you think, Papa?” she asked. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“I think it’s adorable,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head, then giving Layanna a somewhat longer kiss on the lips. A bandage wrapped around her side. “But I thought I told you to go back to the ship.” He shot one of the four whalers in the room a sharp look.
The man shrugged. “She wouldn’t go.”
“I’m not leaving Aunt Lay,” Ani said. “Besides, I wanted my hair done!” She said this as if it were imminently sensible.
“Whoever attacked could return,” Avery said. “It would be better for you to be on the ship.”
Ani crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing. He sighed.
“How’re you feeling, blondie?” Hildra asked the patient in what almost sounded like concern.
“Much better, thank you.” Layanna looped another braid. This was the most feminine thing Avery had ever seen her do. “You know, we could do this for you, too.”
“Ha,” said Hildra. “Don’t you touch me.”
“Oh come on,” said Ani. “It would be fun.”
“Who were they?” Avery asked Layanna. “The attackers? You seemed to recognize them.”
That divot of concentration reappeared between her eyebrows, and she glanced momentarily to the whalers, then Ani.
“Could we have some privacy?” Avery asked them.
They left. Ani refused, and after a moment Avery decided the girl might as well hear this.
“They were the old families,” Layanna said. “The ones descended from those who inhabited the islands before the modern age, before processors could ward off infection, before the islanders had much contact with the outer world.”
“I gathered that,” Avery said. “They were all completely mutated; born that way, surely, and since they were all that way suggested they hailed from the more ancient Azadi lines. But that doesn’t tell me why they attacked you.”
“Doesn’t it? Think about it.”
Avery had been. Slowly, he said, “The Mnuthra ...”
“Go on.”
“They were gathering the ngvandi in the Borghese. Organizing. Motivating them. Harnessing the infected into one force, an army to wield against the foes of Octung, perhaps even Octung itself.” When she didn’t interject, he continued, “Perhaps other Collossum, or even non-transformed R’loth—since this is the sea, after all—have been organizing and brainwashing the Azadi infected in a similar fashion.”
“The peoples of the sea have worshipped us for centuries, Francis,” Layanna said patiently. “We’ve nurtured and encouraged this, and benefited from their offerings. Some even have active, functioning altars by which to send us those offerings to this day.” She paused. “The Azad Islands aren’t one of them, however. Their altar went mostly defunct years ago. My people would have guided them in repairing it, but such a small minority of worshippers was left here after the modernization that it wasn’t deemed worthwhile.”
“Obviously they have some contact with the R’loth,” Avery argued. “They knew how to make the knife, and they knew your face.”
“Or my extradimensional signature, yes, and some way of detecting it. Either way, they could communicate with my kind in some fashion.”
“The R’loth ordered ‘em to kill you,” Janx said.
“No shock your people want you dead, sweetcheeks,” Hildra said. “After what you did. But tell ‘im to get in line.”
“My question,” Avery began, but before he could finish there was a knock on the door and two members of the island police entered. One was a woman, infected, with protruding, fishy eyes bulging from an otherwise disturbingly pretty face. Her uninfected male partner remained quiet as she said, “I’m Detective Isi. We’re investigating the attack. Now that you’re feeling better, ma’am, we’d like to ask a few questions.”
“Of course,” Layanna said, quite composed.
“In private, if you please.”
