I turned appealingly to Harkat. "Tell him he's crazy. Make him see sense."

Harkat smiled. "It sounds like a good idea… to me," he said.

"Ridiculous!" I snorted. "I'll tell Mika. He hates spiders. He'll send troops down here to stamp them out."

"Please do not," Seba said quietly. "Even if they cannot be trained, I enjoy watching them develop. Please do not rid me of one of my few remaining pleasures."

I sighed and cast my eyes to the ceiling. "OK. I won't tell Mika."

"Nor the others," he pressed. "I would be highly unpopular if word leaked."

"What do you mean?"

Seba cleared his throat guiltily. "The ticks," he muttered. "The new spiders have been feeding on ticks, so they have moved upwards to escape."

"Oh," I said, thinking of all the vampires who'd had to cut their hair and beards and shave under their arms because of the deluge of ticks. I grinned.

"Eventually the spiders will pursue the ticks to the top of the mountain and the epidemic will pass," Seba continued, "but until then I would rather nobody knew what was causing it."

I laughed. "You'd be strung up if this got out!"

"I know," he grimaced.

I promised to keep word of the spiders to myself. Then Seba headed back for the Halls — the short trip had tired him — and Harkat and me continued down the tunnels. The further we progressed, the quieter Harkat got. He seemed uneasy, but when I asked him what was wrong, he said he didn't know.

Eventually we found a tunnel which led outside. We followed it to where it opened on to the steep mountain face, and sat staring up at the evening sky. It had been months since I'd stuck my head out in the open, and more than two years since I'd slept outdoors. The air tasted fresh and welcome, but strange.