Mr Fogarty said, ‘When you’re dead, you can see into the future.’
‘Like when you had time fever?’ Henry asked brightly.
For some reason the question irritated Mr Fogarty. ‘No, not like the time fever. Now I get to see what you should do – what you have to do – to make things turn out right. Boy, what would I have given for that when I was a kid? Almost worth dying for, except for the catch.’
‘What’s the catch?’ Henry asked curiously.
‘Catch is when you’re dead you can’t do anything about your own future any more. I know what I should have done, but I didn’t, and now I can’t, it’s too late, so what’s the point of that? You’d think they’d organise things better over here.’
Henry wondered who they were. He wondered where over here was. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but he was worried about the business of the battery running down. It was probably his imagination, but he kept thinking Mr Fogarty’s voice was fading and he didn’t want it to go altogether before Mr Fogarty finished telling him what he wanted to tell him. ‘Yes,’ Henry murmured, nodding agreement that you’d think they would organise things better over there.
Mr Fogarty said, ‘But I know what you should do to make things turn out right, Henry. I know what you have to do. I know exactly what you have to do…’
It wasn’t his imagination. The voice was definitely fading. Henry swung round to Euphrosyne. ‘Can’t you turn the volume up or something?’
Euphrosyne shook her head. ‘Charaxes will leave soon.’
That was just his luck! That was just his bloody luck! He swung back to the ark. ‘What do I have to do?’ he shouted. ‘What do I have to do to make things come out all right?’
The voice from the ark was fading fast, but Henry could still hear the words quite clearly.
‘You have to rescue Blue,’ said Mr Fogarty.
Seventy-Four
‘Is she in isolation?’ asked Madame Cardui.
Chief Wizard Healer Danaus said a little tiredly, ‘Standard procedure in these cases now, but to be frank with you, I doubt it’s really needed. We’ve found no evidence whatsoever that the fever is contagious.’
‘She didn’t pick it up from Pyrgus?’
‘Prince Pyrgus should never have got it in the first place. When the epidemic began we put in place strict procedures for all the royals,’ Danaus said. ‘None of them should have picked up an infection.’
Assuming Pyrgus did what he was told, Madame Cardui thought. He was never very good at that.
But Danaus was going on: ‘Besides, he was in the Analogue World. According to everything we know, it is utterly impossible for the fever to manifest there.’
‘Yet it did,’ murmured Madame Cardui.
‘Yet clearly it did,’ Danaus agreed.
After a moment, Madame Cardui asked, ‘What treatment are you giving her?’
‘Nymphalis? At the moment none.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘Well, that’s not true – palliative treatment. She’s comfortable, there are nurses round the clock, we use spells to keep her temperature within tolerable limits. But when it comes to anything that will make a real difference to the disease – ’ he shrugged ’ – we don’t have anything that will make a real difference to the disease.’
‘But you’re still working on a cure?’
‘Of course. Would you like to see?’
The offer took her by surprise, but it was welcome nonetheless. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, Chief Wizard Healer, yes I would.’
They were already in the medical wing of the Palace. Now they walked together through the long white corridors that led to the research unit. Danaus stopped her before a large observation window. ‘Best you go no further, Madame Cardui.’ He gave a very small, wry smile, ‘In case I am mistaken about the contagion.’
The window was spell coated to give them an overhead view of an entire ward with both alchemical and ritual laboratories set side by side at one end. To scrutinise any bedroom or the activities of the laboratories themselves, all one had to do was concentrate. But even without specific concentration, the place was obviously a hive of activity.
‘We have two types of patient here,’ Danaus said in a lecturing-to-students voice. ‘Nobility, Palace staff and now our first royal-in-residence, Prince Pyrgus, in stasis -’
‘Royals-in-residence,’ Madame Cardui corrected him mildly. ‘Plural. Now you are looking after Nymphalis.’
‘Ah, yes, a forest royal is she not?’ His tone told what he thought of Forest Faeries. He turned back to the window. ‘As I was saying – the first type of patients are those who are here for care. Then we have the hoi polloi who are here for experimentation.’
Madame Cardui smiled slightly to herself. ‘A little cynical, perhaps, Chief Wizard Healer?’
‘Not in the least,’ said Danaus easily. ‘They are a great deal better off in my unit than they would be dying in the streets. And since we only attempt treatments we believe have a chance of succeeding, there is even the possibility they might be cured before the very highest in the land.’
‘But the treatments are dangerous? Some of them at least?’
‘The situation is grave. Some of the spells are extreme. Would you rather we tried them out on our royal family first?’
‘No,’ said Madame Cardui honestly. In fact, Danaus was doing exactly what she would have done in his position, what any realist would do. She suddenly noticed Nymph lying in one of the beds and concentrated to bring her room into clearer focus. The girl looked asleep, but there were subtle signs that she was actually still in a fever coma. Her face was still a long way from the grey aging Pyrgus was now showing, but it already seemed to exhibit a disturbing maturity in place of her fresh-faced youth.
Madame Cardui turned to look at the Chief Wizard Healer. He was a big man, tall, overweight, with soft, fleshy features. For the first time she realised how tired he looked. His face was drawn, his complexion was pale and his eyes were suffering from far too little sleep. She still disliked the man, but decided now she had been far too hard on him. He was, after all, carrying the weight of a crisis, ultimately responsible for the lives of all those in his care, incessantly pressured to find a cure for a terrifying and hitherto unknown disease. What’s more, while he had been careful to halt Madame Cardui in this observation chamber, she knew that he spent all of his days now, and most of his nights, down there in the wards. The man might be a pompous ass, but he did not lack courage. Nor did he spare himself in doing his job. She said, ‘Why did you not have Nymphalis placed in stasis?’ But it was purely a question, not a challenge.
Danaus clearly accepted it as such. ‘She’s young. This is her first bout of the fever. At this stage, she may lose a few days of her future, but hopefully nothing significant. As I said before, there is a small risk involved in stasis. With Prince Pyrgus we really had no option, but Nymphalis is a different case. Besides – ’ He stopped.
‘Besides what?’ asked Madame Cardui.
‘I was going to say we are hopeful that when we find a cure, we can reverse the premature aging. But frankly I have no idea at all whether that’s true. Most of the time we just try to keep up a brave front.’
It was something she’d had to do herself in past crises and she sympathised. ‘What progress have you made with a cure?’ she asked.
Danaus sighed. ‘Very little, if I’m honest. The main problem is the fever shows none of the characteristics of any conventional infection. In many ways, it doesn’t behave like a disease at all. Approaches that have delivered good results in the past simply don’t seem relevant here.’ He squared his shoulders slightly. ‘But we try. And we will continue trying.’ He glanced back towards the observation window and added, ‘Obviously if the fever progresses in Nymphalis as it has done in Prince Pyrgus we will place her in stasis long before her situation becomes critical.’
‘Thank you,’ Madame Cardui murmured. Her mind returned to an earlier point and she said, ‘Chief Wizard Healer, you mentioned that in your opinion the disease is not contagious…?’