As he saw as well as heard the indescribable pandemonium, with the Nithling and the Denizen front ranks intermixed in violent battle, Ray Green was totally in the present. There was no part of his mind trying to remember anything of his past, but as his body obeyed without thought, the power-spear soaring out of his hand and into the rear ranks of the enemy, he had a sudden flash of memory. He was throwing something – a white ball – and someone else was shouting at him, ‘Way to go, Arthur Penhaligon!’
The name resonated in Ray’s mind so powerfully that for an instant he wasn’t even aware of the incredible tumult of the battle.
‘I’m not Ray Green!’ he shouted. ‘I’m Arthur Penhaligon!’
Fifteen
SYLVIE LOOKED OUT the window. Leaf watched her, her heart sinking as the old lady did not react as she expected. She just stood there, fiddling with the left arm of the spectacles.
‘Very interesting,’ she said at last.
‘Did you see it?’ asked Leaf. ‘The House? Above and around the hospital?’
‘Yes, I did, dear,’ said Sylvie in a very matter-of-fact way. ‘Is it real, or some sort of 3-D projection from these glasses?’
‘It’s real,’ said Leaf grimly. ‘Very real. The glasses are not some sort of technology. A sorcerer made them.’
Sylvie took them off and looked at the wire frames and the cracked lenses. Then she put them on again and stared out the window once more.
‘I haven’t got much time,’ said Leaf. ‘That disease, the one they think is a bioagent, it’s actually caused by a … a creature from that House, a Nithling. You can only get the … virus … if that one Nithling touches you. I’ve got it and when it kicks in, the Nithling will see what I see, know what I know, and will be able to control my mind.’
‘Even from this distance?’ asked Sylvie. She was still staring out the window.
‘Um … I don’t know,’ said Leaf. ‘I can’t take that risk. I have to get over to Arthur’s … my friend’s house. He’s got a phone that can call Denizens … the people in the House. I was thinking that if you called the police – no, no, that’s too risky. If you called an ambulance, then I could hijack it and get them to drive me.’
‘You are an adventurer!’ exclaimed Sylvie. She tore herself away from the window and handed the glasses back to her. ‘But I suppose that could work. Only, what will happen afterwards?’
‘I was planning to worry about afterwards when there is an afterwards,’ replied Leaf. ‘And I’m not an adventurer. At least not by choice. I’ve done that once and learned my lesson. No more adventures without knowing what I’m getting into.’
‘They wouldn’t be adventures, then,’ said Sylvie. ‘You know, I was never adventurous. Perhaps it is not too late. I have a medi-alert here. Shall I activate it now? It’s a subscription service, not public health, so we can be assured an ambulance will come quickly.’
‘Activate it!’ Leaf agreed. She started downstairs. ‘Can I borrow a knife from your kitchen? And some salt?’
‘If you so wish.’ Sylvie opened her bedside drawer and took out a small electronic device, flipped open the Lucite cover, and pressed the red button within. It started to beep and a synthesised voice said, ‘Stay calm. Help is on the way. Stay calm. Help is on the way.’ Then the device started to play a Vivaldi piece for lute and bassoon.
Sylvie threw it back in the drawer and followed Leaf downstairs, finding her in the kitchen eating spoonfuls of salt, washed down with orange juice.
‘What on earth are you doing?’
Leaf coughed – a cough that was nearly a vomit. Then she wiped her mouth with a tissue and said, ‘I’m not sure, really, but salt might put off the Nithling’s control. They don’t like salt … or silver.’
‘I have a silver bangle,’ said Sylvie. ‘I’ll fetch it.’
‘Thanks,’ said Leaf through the corner of her mouth. She felt extremely nauseous, more than she would have thought possible just from half-a-dozen spoonfuls of salt. Perhaps the mould didn’t like salt either. Just in case, she quickly gargled with some more dissolved in water, and then snorted salty water up her nose, as if she were irrigating her sinuses. Perhaps it would help.
By the time Sylvie returned with not just the silver bangle but a necklace of tiny silver acorns as well, they could hear a siren approaching and then the sound of the ambulance pulling up outside.
‘I’ve got my allergy injector,’ said Sylvie, showing Leaf an auto-injector she had hidden under her shawl, the brand name on the cartridge blacked out with pen. ‘I’ll tell them it’s got something nasty in it that they’ll get if they don’t do what I say. But not till we’re in the ambulance. First I’ll sit here and we’ll tell them I blacked out. You can be my granddaughter.’