Ruler of the Realm

Twenty-four

Henry was in a lot of trouble.

He seemed to be hallucinating. There was a figure bending over him. After a moment he recognised it as Mr Fogarty.

‘I thought you were in New Zealand,’ Henry said dreamily.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Mr Fogarty.

‘What’s the matter with him?’ The voice, from somewhere to the left, was Pyrgus’s.

‘Bit disoriented, that’s all. He’ll be fine in a minute.’

‘I want to talk to him. About Blue.’

‘In a minute. He’s had his atoms ripped apart and reassembled. You can’t expect him to come out fighting.’

Henry tried to stand up and fell down. The ceiling looked very nice. It was vaulted like a church, only lower. The wood floor smelt of vanilla. His body ached a bit. Or quite a lot, actually.

‘Perhaps I could be of assistance, sir…?’

A woman’s voice said, ‘He’s really quite good at first aid, deeah.’

‘Be my guest,’ said Mr Fogarty.

An orange thumb dug into Henry’s sternum. There was a sudden racking pain and everything snapped into focus. He jack-knifed into a sitting position, clutching his chest. The grinning face of Madame Cardui’s dwarf was beaming at him.

‘There, that’s better, isn’t it?’ said Kitterick.