"There were three other reported sightings of Toby last night," Veil said as he gently rubbed antiseptic salve over Toby's eye and the side of his face. "All in different sections of Queens. The police must be getting tired of it, which could explain why they aren't roaming all over the cemetery right now."
"But the police must know he's here," Reyna insisted. "What about the bodies of the men who were killed?"
"The police claim it was gang warfare."
"In a cemetery, in the middle of the night? Do you think they really believe it?"
"No," Veil replied after a pause. "The arrow through the one man's throat is a giveaway, but it's not even mentioned in the stories. The police may not want to create a panic in the neighborhood, or they don't want a mob tearing up the cemetery, which is exactly what would happen if the police told all they knew or suspected. You're right—they have to know we're here. They'll be waiting and watching." "How did the men who attacked us last night know where to look for us?"
"Nagle. They were his men—probably street thugs too low on the totem pole to know he's a marked man."
Reyna's hands began to tremble as she finished bandaging Toby's head. "Besides us, he's the only one who knew for certain that Toby was in the building. He looked at a map and made the right guesses. He knows, doesn't he?"
"I think so."
"You know so," Reyna said in a hollow voice. "We're trapped."
"We'll see," Veil said evenly. "Nobody—cops or crooks— can be certain that we didn't get out of here last night. In any case, it would take an army to guard the entire perimeter of this cemetery. There'll be cracks, and we'll get through. Let's not waste mental energy worrying about anything until we see what it is we have to worry about. Is the car where we left it?"
"Yes, but it looks to me like somebody's watching it."
"Shit," Veil said without emotion. "It figures, though. Nagel saw it. It means we're going to need other transportation."
"Lord, Veil, won't anything go right for us?"
Veil raised his eyebrows slightly. "Toby's still alive, isn't he? And we're all together. Doesn't Wesley Missionary College teach you people about mustard seeds?"
"Touche," Reyna answered with a wry grin. "You're right, of course. Can Walrus or Mr. Raskolnikov pick us up somewhere?"
"Using Victor is a possibility; Walrus has to stay where he is. The problem is that I'd also like to keep Victor where he is, right up to the point where I'm certain I don't need him by a telephone any longer." He paused, absently began to peel an orange. "Let me think about it."
"I need the heroin in the Nal-toon."
Reyna, who had been sitting next to Toby and cradling the K'ung in her arms, glanced up at the spot where Veil had been standing in silence for more than an hour while night fell. She could not see him. "Why, Veil?"
"Talk to Toby."
"I don't think he'll give it to you, Veil," Reyna said guardedly.
"He has to, Reyna. It's our ticket out of here, if there is one. I can't use Walrus, Victor, or John—the doctor. I need them where they are."
"But how—"
"Talk to him, Reyna. Tell him he has to give it to me if he wants to get home."
Reyna sighed, then hugged Toby even closer to her. "Toby?" Reyna said in K'ung. "We have to talk about something important."
Toby answered with a grunt.
"We need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk."
Toby abruptly drew away from Reyna, then hugged the Nal-toon close to his body. "I don't understand," he said thickly. "The blood of the Nal-toon is mine; it is a gift to me from God. It is very powerful medicine."
"The Nal-toon provided you with blood when you needed it for pain," Reyna said after a long, thoughtful pause. "Now it is needed to help us escape the warriors who are hunting us. It is needed because the Nal-toon wishes to return with you to your people. For that to happen, we need the blood."
"Why?"
"Veil will tell us. He has a plan. He is our chief, and we must do as he says."
"No!" Toby cried, wrapping both arms around the Nal-toon. "My father is chief, not this man!"
Suddenly, close by, church bells began to peal; their sound, clanging and insistent, vibrated in the air.
Reyna could think of no reason why church bells would be rung after sundown. "They toll for thee," she whispered in K'ung.
"What?"
"Nothing, Toby."
"The voice of the Nal-toon speaks differently here."
Reyna felt a chill run through her, and she sat up straighter. "Yes," she said carefully. "What you say is true—the Nal-toon does speak differently here." She paused, took a deep breath. "Tonight, Toby, the Nal-toon's voice is for you alone. It means that you must decide what your god is saying. I tell you that I will never betray you. I tell you that I will die before I will allow you to be captured and the Nal-toon taken away. I also speak for Veil. You must trust Veil, as you must trust me. We want to take you home. Veil has said that he needs the blood-shilluk in order to accomplish this, but it is you who must listen to your heart, and the voice of the Nal-toon, and decide whether or not he is telling the truth and can be trusted."
Toby sat very still for a long time, staring vacantly at a point somewhere above Reyna's head. Finally Toby held the Nal-toon out to the woman. His hands were steady. Reyna bowed her head to Toby, then reverently handed the Nal-toon to Veil, who had stepped into the small circle of light cast by the fire's burning embers.
Veil set the idol down, knelt, bowed to the idol and then to Toby. "Tell him I have to crack open the bottom," he said quietly. "Only the bottom. I won't damage anything else."
"He's given up his god to you, Veil. It means you can do with it what you want."
"I want his permission."
"Toby," Reyna said in K'ung, "Veil and the Nal-toon wish to honor you by asking for your personal permission to open the base so as to remove all of the blood-shilluk. It must be done."
Toby nodded slightly in Veil's direction. "The Nal-toon has spoken to my heart and told me to trust this man."
"It's all right, Veil."
Veil sat down next to Toby on the floor of the crypt. He braced the Nal-toon across his knees with his left hand, then placed the fingers of his right against the false plywood bottom and began to apply steady pressure. The cracked wood squeaked. Veil stopped and glanced at Toby, but the bushman was staring straight ahead, his face impassive. Veil applied sudden, intense pressure, and the plywood cracked apart. Toby shuddered slightly, but otherwise did not react.
Veil quickly pulled the jagged pieces of plywood from around the base, then reached inside the hollowed-out idol. He pulled out three plastic bags, each one slightly larger than his fist. Two of the bags were intact, but the heroin in the third was trickling from a small gash in the plastic, caused by a plywood splinter. Veil pinched the bag closed, then set it down on the floor next to the others. "There it is," he said quietly. "That's what all the shooting is about."
Reyna whistled softly. "Pure white heroin. There must be enough junk there to supply all the city's addicts for a year."
"Does it bother you, Reyna?"
"No," Reyna answered evenly. "There's no craving. All that happened to me . . . it's like it happened to another person, in another lifetime."
Veil took out his handkerchief and poured some of the heroin from the broken bag into it. "You'd better save this for Toby," he said, holding the handkerchief out to Reyna. "He'll need it."
Reyna studied Toby's face for a few moments, finally shook her head. "No," she said. "He won't need it."
"He's in a lot of pain, Reyna, and we may have to move fast. He's an addict now, and he'll start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if he doesn't get it. This doesn't seem like the time to expect him to kick the habit cold turkey."