"One step closer to home," said Shrike.

Something was happening around Berenice. Even at a distance, they could see it. A dozen airships were in port on the south side of the city. Spyder wondered if they should turn and head back into the open desert, then flag down a boat when they hit the coast. He didn't like the idea of going up in one of the airships again, and he was reasonably sure no one else did. But there was no telling when anything larger than a local fishing boat would come along. They had to go to Berenice.

"Damn," said Spyder. "I should have asked Lucifer for some of those jewels back on the ground in Hell. We don't have a penny to buy a ride."

"We'll be fine," Shrike said.

"You think?"

Shrike leaned against Spyder, running a hand through the hair on the back of his head. "The Count was right, you need to think bigger."

They caught sight of the first lookout a couple of miles from the city. The boy had been asleep, and his loose dun-colored robes blended into the sand. He awoke suddenly and screamed as Cornelius nearly stepped on him.

The boy ran ahead for a few paces, shouting excitedly to them before stopping, raising a pistol over his head and firing off a flare. Cornelius never broke stride and the boy ran after them.

"You don't think they're a lynch mob, do you?" asked Spyder. "For me doing over that memory?"

"I don't think so," said Shrike. "But if anyone does anything stupid, Cornelius can run us to the coast."

Other lookouts popped out of the sand as they approached the city, gawkers, too. It all made Spyder nervous, and he kept his hand on his knife, but each group smiled and waved at them as they passed. No one seemed upset to see them and better yet, thought Spyder, none of them looked like cops.

A group of twenty or more robed men and women met them at a wadi just outside the city walls. Dignitaries. Local bigwigs, thought Spyder. They had that self-important air about them, like the kind of crowd back home that gave a million dollars to the symphony just so they can get a plaque and their name in a newsletter. What the hell did they want? He slipped Apollyon's blade behind his back and kept his hand on the hilt. Shrike touched his arm.

"Relax," she said. "They're friends. They'll probably give you the key to the city."

"We'll see," he said.

However time and space moved in the underworld, on Earth there had obviously been enough time for word to spread about what had happened below.

"I don't guess it would take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out," Lulu said. "There's a hole the size of Dallas in the middle of the desert."

Just to make sure no one got frisky, Spyder had Cornelius stroll right up to the Berenice officials. The dignitaries looked a bit nervous by the proximity of the giant spider, but they all smiled and applauded as Spyder and the others climbed off. A gray-haired man with fierce Maori-style facial tattoos, clearly the head of the delegation, embraced each of them as they came down. With his hand on Spyder's shoulder, the tattooed man turned to the other dignitaries and began a quick speech in a flowing, melodious language.

Spyder looked at Shrike. "You got a clue what this guy's saying?"

"He's speaking Ubari. It's an old city-state built in the First Sphere. I haven't heard it spoken in a long time," she said. "He's calling us the 'Saviors of Light.' 'Defenders of Light.' Something like that."

"If at any point he says 'prison bitches,' let us know," said Lulu.

The Ubarian ambassador said something while standing next to each of them, gesturing extravagantly, clearly enjoying his moment in the spotlight. The assembled delegates nodded and laughed politely. It looked to Spyder that a lot of the crowd were like him, not understanding the man, but going along with the group out of politeness or ritual. He spotted one man off to the side in the ordinary working robes of a merchant, rolling a cigarette. Spyder held up two fingers in the universal gesture of smoking. The man smiled and handed Spyder the cigarette he'd just finished, and lit it with a small gray stone that emitted a jet of flame when he breathed across it. Spyder took a long puff and bowed a little thanks, and then passed the smoke to Lulu, who took it eagerly.

"It's their great honor to greet us after our battle with the Princes of Despair," said Shrike.

"Who's that? The Clerks, you think?"

"Maybe. All I know is, they're happy to see us and no one is going to be arrested or lynched."

"Good news. He going to shut up soon, you think?"

Lulu came over and handed the cigarette back to Spyder. She dug in the sand with her boot, then half-turned away from the dignitaries.

"That tall blonde guy in the back look familiar?" she asked.

Spyder scanned the crowd discreetly, not letting his gaze linger anywhere too long.

"Should he?"

"Isn't he that prince from the airship? The one Primo was talking to on TV?"

"Bel. His ship got stuck to ours. I guess the prick didn't die in the dogfight, after all."

"Maybe we can get a ride with him. He owes us," Lulu said.

"How d'you figure?"

"We saw him fuck up big time. And we're the Power Rangers of Light or whatever. He'll fart and tap dance for us if we ask."

"I'll settle for a drink and a shower."

"We're invited to a banquet in our honor," Shrike said. "All of Berenice, Ubari and the families of the Second Sphere want to honor us."

Spyder smiled at the man and nodded. "Can we say no?"

"They won't be happy."

"Tell him we need to get your father," Spyder said. "Tell him Dad's sick and in danger. We have to get to him fast."

Shrike stepped forward and smiled at the crowd, with all the dignity she could muster. She spoke slowly, hesitantly, taking long pauses, groping for words. Spyder and Lulu finished the cigarette and Spyder tucked the stub into his pocket. The man in the merchant robes came forward and gave them his bag of tobacco, along with his rolling papers. Spyder accepted, nodding sincere thanks.

"This hero thing doesn't half suck," he said.

"Roll me a smoke, John Wayne," Lulu replied.

When Shrike finished, the Ubari dignitary began chattering and gesturing again. His guests nodded solemnly and looked at Spyder.

"We off the hook?" he asked.

"I think so," said Shrike. "He's saying that we're true champions appointed by god, I think, or some kind of giant bird. That we care so much for humanity that we can't even stop to celebrate a victory:you get the idea."

The Ubarian grew quiet. He turned and embraced Spyder and the others in turn. The dignitaries all rushed forward to shake their hands and kiss their cheeks, as the group made their way back to Cornelius.

When Bel came forward to shake, Spyder held on to his hand. "Tell this asshole we need a lift out of here," he said to Shrike.

She spoke quietly to the prince as the other dignitaries clustered around, praising them in a dozen languages. They're worse than demons, Spyder thought. Demons can't help being creepy.

A moment later Shrike returned. "It's set. We can head out in an hour, when the ship is ready to launch."

"Cool."

When they'd all climbed onto Cornelius' back, Spyder ordered him to rise as quickly as possible. The dignitaries gave a collective "Ooo," as the man-machine whirred and clanked to life and set out around the city walls to where the airships were berthed.

They waited with the prince beneath his new scorpion airship that seemed half again as big as the old one. The prince barked orders to a small group of deck hands waiting on the ground and these were relayed up to the ship in an elaborate series of whistles and arms gestures. A few minutes later, a huge cargo net was lowered down from the ship. Cornelius stepped into the net and curled his legs under his body, settling down like a giant cat. With a jerk, Spyder, Shrike, Lulu and Cornelius were hoisted up and onto the prince's airship.