He reached out toward me with those long rubbery fingers, and I sliced the Claw down across them.

He flinched and drew his hand back. "Excuse me for hitting your weapon with my hand" he said, giving me a sincere smile. "Perhaps we should get to know each other."

I lunged again with the scalpel, this time for his throat, but he was deceptively fast. His neck seemed to move separately from the rest of his body, pulling itself in, as his hand came up and caught me. Those fingers grew and circled my wrist, applying a pressure so intense I had to drop the Claw. In reaction to this, I threw a punch with my free hand, and with no effort at all, he intercepted it and held it fast. Then that circle of braided hair rose of its own volition off his chest, wriggling like the body of a snake, and passed over my head to rest around the back of my neck. I wanted to struggle, to kick and break free, but his vacant eyes, which were now only inches from mine, told me not to.

"Someday you will have to explain that lip maneuver to me," he said in Nunnly's voice. His mouth opened wide and a blast of warm breath, reeking of spoiled meat, stole my last shred of will. In my mind, at a place hidden from consciousness, I was wild with fear, though my body was completely limp. From deep within the Delicate's bowels, mixed with the digestive gurgle, I thought I could hear the Doctor crying for help. His lips moved over mine, and I felt an incredible pressure begin to build in my chest. There was a muffled explosion that turned the night red, and I thought I had died.

Then I was falling to the pavement, gasping for air. I landed on my back, and could see the Delicate step over me and begin walking quickly away. His back was ablaze with a red light, and there were small flames and smoke issuing from the brown suit.

"Sorry to have to leave unexpectedly," I heard him say as if holding back a groan. He lurched forward down to the alley I had come from and disappeared around the corner.

Anotine was there in a moment with the signal gun in one hand and her spear in the other. She helped me to my feet and asked if I was all right. I nodded as I caught my breath, and then we turned back to see what had become of Nunnly.

Brisden, the sample bottle of ocean cradled in his arm, knelt above the engineer, whose body was jerking and rolling back and forth. Weak cries of pain, like dry whispers, were issuing from his open, disfigured mouth. One side of him was deflated, leaving the flesh loose and puddled as had been the case with the Doctor. It was obvious that his ribs were broken on the bad side and that his leg and arm contained no trace of skeletal structure. I finally managed to get my voice back, but the combination of Nunnly's suffering and the ordeal I had just been through prevented me from speaking for a time.

"We heard a scream and came running," said Anotine. "I can't believe I actually managed to hit the Delicate in the back with a shot from the top of the stairs there." She paused for a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. "Cley, what are we going to do?"

I had to struggle against despair. Things had gone from impossible to hopeless. Although the Delicate could be hurt, I couldn't imagine what it would take to kill him. The island was growing ever smaller. The Doctor was dead. Nunnly was soon to follow, and Brisden had lost his mind in the face of tragedy and had given himself up to ceaseless babbling.

Anotine leaned over and picked the scalpel up off the ground. She came over to where I was standing, and whispered to me. "You've got to kill him, Cley. There is nothing that we can do but end his suffering." She handed me the instrument, and I accepted it.

The thought of taking Nunnly's life made me physically ill, but what Anotine had said was true. Still, my mind worked feverishly for another solution. I thought about Wenau, where I was a healer, and wondered what I would do there. There were no herbs or roots of the forest that could reverse the effects of the Delicate's attack.

"Give it back to me, Cley. I'll do it," said Anotine. "I can't watch this anymore."

As she reached for the Lady Claw, I stopped her hand. From out of the storm of confusion in my mind, a single white image presented itself. I thought of Anotine's secret place and the tree that grew there. I had seen the fruit that hung from its branches work miracles in my own reality. Its effects could be short-term or long, for better or for worse, depending somehow upon the morality of the person ingesting it. I knew it had saved Aria Beaton's life after I had butchered her, trying to rework her physiognomy. I also believed it was the long-acting effects of it that had years later erased the hideous scars from her face and allowed her to remove the green veil. It was the catalyst that had destroyed the Well-Built City after Below had partaken of it. I hoped now that in this world it could save Nunnly's life.

21

There was no time for me to explain to Anotine the history of the white fruit or what I hoped it would accomplish. Searching the ground for the sponge I had removed from the scalpel, I quickly found it and secured the instrument, putting it back in my boot. Then I walked over to where Nunnly lay and gently helped Brisden to his feet.

"Take the spears" I said to Anotine as I bent over to gather up the wriggling, loose parcel that was now the engineer. As I hoisted him into my arms, he groaned unmercifully. He was surprisingly light, but hard to get ahold of because of the state the Delicate had left his body in.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To your special place with the fountain of the monkey," I said.

We merely exchanged a look, and I believe she knew I had something in mind. As I trudged down the corridor with Nunnly draped across my arms, I thought of myself in the arms of Misrix, flying through his memory above the forests of the Beyond. Anotine gathered up the spears and prodded Brisden along in our direction. We were particularly vulnerable to an attack just then, but luckily the Delicate seemed to be somewhere else, no doubt tending to his wounds. I knew, from having passed the low opening in the wall so many times that night, exactly where I was going.

We traversed two alleys and a terrace. After that there was only one flight of stairs to climb, in the middle of which I almost dropped poor Nunnly. By the time we made it to the top, my arms were cramped with pain and my heart was pounding. The engineer's breathing had grown erratic, and his supplications had withered to near-inaudible whimpers. Anotine moved ahead of me as we got closer to our destination, making sure that Brisden kept pace with her. As I staggered across the last courtyard toward the wall with the opening, I saw her kneel and toss the spears into the secret place. She then crawled through herself and helped Brisden to enter.

I carefully placed Nunnly down at the opening, and she reached out and took him by the shoulders. She pulled, and I pushed, and we managed to get him through the portal. Once I had entered, myself, I lay back on the stones and rested. My body was aching from the exertion, and my breathing was nearly as erratic as that of the engineer's.

"Cley," said Anotine, "why are we here?"

"Help me up," I pleaded, and she leaned over and grabbed my hand.

The place was as serene as ever, the fountain water quietly splashing, the monkey frozen in his dance. Then I turned, and to my delight, the tree bearing the white fruit had, unlike the rest of the plant life on the island, not succumbed to the disease of disintegration. As I had hoped, it stood strong with all its leaves, the pale globes of fruit hanging ripe and heavy. Brisden sat, with the glowing sample jar beside him, on the bench that encircled its trunk, and the peaceful nature of that scene made me momentarily forget the danger we were in.