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any further the Void Beneath would take him.

    Swinging his legs off the thin mattress, he stood and took a moment to recover his balance. His head no longer felt as though it might shatter at the slightest touch, so that was an improvement. Kemp lay in one of the other cots, haggard and labouring under his injuries. Shilly had gone out onto the deck, presumably to observe the confrontation. He followed in her footsteps, weaving only slightly.

    ‘If he dies,’ Rosevear said, ‘it’ll be on your conscience as well as mine.’

    The sun had moved during his recuperative nap and now hung far to the west over the cliffs of the Divide. Even so, its light was still bright enough to dazzle Sal as he stepped out of the bone enclosure. The entire crew had gathered: Marmion and his wardens, standing in ones and twos across the long deck; Chu and Skender sitting side by side on a coil of rope, their thighs not quite touching; Highson and Shilly near the entrance to the boneship’s interior, just to Sal’s left. Even Mawson, the animated stone bust of a man with high temples and brooding expression, watched from the sidelines, propped up against one of the bulwarks and surrounded by knees. He, out of everyone, arguably had the most to lose if Kemp succumbed. The immensely strong albino frequently acted as his arms and legs.

    ‘If Kemp dies,’ Sal said, speaking loudly so all could hear, ‘there’s only one proper place to lay the blame.’

    Heads turned to face him. Marmion’s eyes narrowed. ‘And where might that be?’

    ‘On the snake, of course. That’s not to say we shouldn’t do our best to care for him — he deserves no less than that — but we can go only so far in providing that help. Our mission was always going to be a dangerous one, and he knew that. He wouldn’t want us to turn back just for him. I’m sure of it.’

    Marmion looked relieved, and perhaps a little surprised that Sal had sprung so readily to his defence. ‘Thank you.’

    Rosevear wasn’t to be mollified. ‘You don’t know the full situation, Sal. I can’t treat Kemp with the limited resources I brought with me.’

    ‘We’ve been over this,’ Marmion said. ‘There are forests ahead, less than a day’s journey from our present location. There will be all manner of herbs and fresh water at your disposal. Kemp will be better off there than here, or perhaps even in Laure.’

    ‘And if he dies before we get there?’

    ‘Tell me honestly: how likely is that?’

    Rosevear looked crestfallen. ‘I don’t know. The poison has spread throughout his body. There was nothing I could do to halt its progress. He has a fever and the wound will not close: either of these factors could lead to complications.’ He sighed and examined his hands, front and back. ‘A day might make all the difference in the world, or none in the slightest. To be utterly truthful, I’m not sure that anything I can do will help. No matter where we are.’

    The news was sobering. Sal felt for the young healer. He had tasted impotence, and found it bitter and lingering.

    ‘We will make all haste,’ said Marmion soothingly. ‘You are absolved of any blame should your worst fears be realised. I will take that responsibility.’

    Rosevear nodded, but clearly took little comfort from the warden’s words.

    ‘Right.’ Marmion put the matter behind him with a brisk round of instructions. The wardens set to work, preparing to cast off from the rugged shore by tightening cables, building charms and stowing the remains of a hasty meal. By the look of things, Sal had missed dinner. His stomach rumbled at the thought, and he was heartily glad when Shilly joined him, pressing a sandwich of flat bread and salted meat into his hands.

    Wary of getting in the way they retreated into the heart of the boneship where Rosevear had returned to sit with Kemp. The healer looked tired. Sal’s sensitivity to the Change hadn’t recovered, but he could imagine the toll saving