"What's up?" Spyder asked. The others sat around a small fire, drinking the mint tea Lulu had bought in Berenice.

"Sit down and have some tea," said Count Non. "Don't look around. There's something out in the dunes."

"We heard machines earlier. From the ruins," said Spyder.

"This isn't machines or horses or even wolves looking for a quick meal."

"Men," said Shrike. "How many?"

"Eight, at least."

"Shit," said Spyder.

"Can you reach the Hornet?" asked the Count.

"It's right by my saddle, on the other side of the fire."

"Don't reach for it now. You'll fight with that and not the knife. The Hornet will give you some distance from your opponent. Smile. You and the Butcher Bird are relaxed and happy and in love."

"How can you be sure they're going to attack?" Spyder asked.

Lulu handed them cups of hot tea. Shrike blew on hers to cool it. "You send one or two men to spy," she said. "When you send eight or more, it's a raiding party."

"Is it those desert rats we saw earlier today? They didn't look like much," said Spyder.

"Anyone who can live in this open desert is going to be hard as stone and fierce as a demon," said Non.

"I'm boosting morale with cheap bravado," said Spyder. "On my planet, we refrain from telling people how fucked they are."

"My mistake."

"How are you doing, Lulu?" asked Spyder.

"I could use a fix. Or a drink."

"We need you bright-eyed and quick like a bunny right now."

"No problem," Lulu said. She moved her leg to reveal the smooth butt of a sawed-off shotgun. "A four-ten. Small enough to love. Big enough to kill."

"You have any more guns in that bag?" Spyder asked Count Non.

"Sorry, no."

"Damn. I'd feel a lot better with a gun."

"You'll do fine."

"Shh," said Shrike. "They're close."

"How can you be sure?" Spyder asked.

Out in the dark, one of the horses whinnied and a small throwing knife thunked into the sand by Shrike's leg. She was up instantly, her cane blurring to a sword as the first attacker came charging out of the night. Spyder didn't even look. He knew she could handle what was coming, and dove for the Hornet.

Spyder came up off-balance and couldn't get the metal flails at the Hornet's head to spin properly. He heard Lulu blasting away with the four-ten and turned in her direction, just in time to see the tribesman that was rushing him. The attacker had a length of sharpened pipe raised above his head and was too close and coming too fast for Spyder to get out of the way. Already off-balance, Spyder let himself fall backwards, pushing the stud on the side of the Hornet to release the spikes from the ends. The tribesman impaled himself on the shaft of the weapon and landed on top of Spyder.

He struggled from under the man's body and finally got the Hornet spinning properly. It hummed like an angry swarm of insects. As throwing knives shot toward him from the dark, they were shredded in midair. Out of the corner of his eye, Spyder saw Shrike hold off three attackers simultaneously, spinning to slice the legs off one, before gutting and decapitating the others. Lulu picked off attackers and whooped out rebel yells while Primo crushed tribesmen with his fist, the Hulk in a cheap suit. Count Non fought almost as impressively as Shrike. He charged with his broad Kan Dao sword in one hand and a Morningstar in the other, alternately slashing and crushing the skulls of his opponents.

Another attacker was on Spyder, one who understood what the Hornet was. He didn't rush into the saw-tooth flails, but feinted and moved around, trying to find a way past the spinning shield. Spyder's injured hand was a white-hot ball of pain. He could feel blood running down his arm. That was the side on which the tribesman made his attack. He drove his sword to the opposite side and when Spyder turned to parry him, the attacker spun smoothly, slipping around the flails. In his haste to avoid being sliced to giblets, the man came around a touch wide and barely managed to drag the tip of his sword through the top Spyder's right arm. Before the man could come back with a killing blow, his mid-section exploded. He fell and Spyder saw Lulu standing there with her shotgun smoking. Spyder returned the favor by slicing off the arm of another attacker who lunged at Lulu's back.

And then it was over. No more men came over the dunes. Spyder and Lulu turned in slow circles, waiting for someone else to rush them from the dark, but no one came.

"Spyder, stop spinning that thing," said Shrike. He dropped the flails into the sand to stop them. Shrike turned once, her head up, listening. "If there are any left, they've run off to lick their wounds."

Spyder put his arms around Shrike and she held on to him. "A fighter, not a victim. Understand now?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. But he thought, I killed a man tonight. More than one. Spyder pushed Shrike away and puked into the sand.

"Pussy," said Lulu.

Thirty-Eight

Dead Eyes Talk

"The horses are gone," said Lulu.

"All of them?" asked Shrike.

"The ones that aren't dead."

"Goddam," said Spyder as Count Non wrapped his injured shoulder in gauze he pulled from the saddlebags. He pressed a poultice to Spyder's wound and wrapped that, too.

"What's that?"

"Herbs with Saint Cosmas' dust," said the Count. "The shoulder and your hand should be healed by morning."

"You didn't even get scratched."

"Unlike some people, I try to avoid being stabbed."

"You got something against bleeding?"

"Blood belongs on the inside, little brother."

"Duck and cover. Got it."

"This one's eyes are gone," said Primo. "And this one."

"This one, too," said Lulu. "Shit they're all cut up. Oh god:"

Spyder looked at Lulu. She was kneeling by the body of a dead tribesman, her hands over her mouth. The dead man's robe lay open, revealing his chest and belly. They were scarred and stitched in the same haphazard manner that was becoming very familiar.

"Are they cut, Spyder?" asked Shrike.

"Sliced and diced, just the way the Black Clerks do it."

Lulu touched the face of the dead man in the sand. "Is that how I look?" She spoke in a child's voice, like she was in shock. She pulled her jacket closed and crossed her arms, tucking her hands underneath. "They all that way?"

"Yes," said Primo. He was walking from body to body, moving their clothing with his foot, checking them for scars. Spyder could tell that he didn't want to touch them. Going to where Lulu knelt, Spyder got her to her feet.

"Come away from there," Spyder said, and sat her by the fire.

"Why would they come after us like that?" Lulu asked.

"In our clans, there's a saying about the Black Clerks," said Primo. "'They watch the world through silent eyes.'"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that taking a part of someone's body gives the Clerks some power over the remaining body," said Shrike.

"It's still just static to me."

"I believe it means that the Black Clerks might not take eyes simply because they are foul and need to replenish their organs," said Count Non. "Perhaps they are able to see where those eyes should be, watching through the empty sockets they once inhabited."

"The Clerks are in my head? They're looking through my fucking eyes?" Lulu shouted. There was hysteria in her voice.

"Is that right, Shrike?" asked Spyder.

"It's possible," she said.

"I saw the Clerks in Berenice. I thought it was just a coincidence," Spyder said. "They must want the book, too. Or to spook us from it."

"I led those slugs right to us," Lulu said. "The Black Clerks have seen everything we're doing and know right where we are." She stood and snatched up the shotgun. "Fuck that."

"What are you doing, Lulu?" Spyder said. He started over, but Lulu pointed the four-ten at him.