"My hand went straight through it, so I put my head in as well."

"What did you see?" Yggur's voice went hoarse at the end.

Llian described the interior as well as he could recall it-the dark-red illumination, the seats, controls and glowing panels. "I'm sorry," he ended. "It was ... out of focus. I couldn't see it clearly."

"I don't like it," said Malien, "for all that this construct is not real."

"What do you mean?" asked Tallia.

"I dreamed it long ago," said Karan, shivering in spite of the heat. "And even then it frightened me."

"Nothing real can be made in the Nightland because the very fabric and stuff of the Nightland itself is not real," Men-dark explained. "At least, it may seem real there, but outside it can no more be real than an image in a mirror is. This construct is just a pattern, perhaps for something that he hopes to make once he returns to Santhenar."

"But the pattern is complete!" said Malien. "All he has to do is bring it with him and put the construct together. How can we stand against such a thing?" She walked out of the light, stabbing the tent pegs back into the crumbly salt.

"What is it for?" Karan whispered.

"Who can tell?" Shand replied. "Though surely it surpasses his previous devices."

"So he wants us to think," said Mendark, "since he took such pains to show it to Llian. But time will tell whether he can make it work. A shape and a pattern in the Nightland, no matter how complete, is an entirely different matter from a device that does what he wants on Santhenar. And just to build it, every material that it is to be made from-metal, glass, ceramic, whatever-must be found, purified and shaped in exactly the right way. Even with Shazmak and the Ghashad at his disposal, it will take months. Remember that Shuthdar and a team of Aachim toiled for ages just to make a little flute."

"Just as well!" said Yggur bitterly. "Since we are months away from Thurkad or any place where we can oppose him. Go on with your tale, Llian. Tell us what you learned about Rulke, and how you got away."

"Yggur terrifies me," Karan whispered.

Malien put her good arm across Karan's shoulders. They sat together, the two redheads, though the heat soon made the contact unbearable.

"How long do you think it will be?" Karan asked into the silence.

"Until Rulke comes back?" asked Mendark. "Not long!"

Llian went on with his tale. Mendark found Rulke's defense of the gate particularly interesting. "It was so close," he said. "Had Yggur used the right amount of power, had he not panicked, we might well have succeeded."

"Had not this treacherous chronicler given him a strategy to beat us!" Yggur screamed. "The Zain are born traitors, as you found out with Hennia, Mendark."

"Wrist-wrestling!" Mendark laughed outright. "Really, Yggur, I don't think Llian can teach Rulke anything about strategy."

"He's a traitor," Yggur repeated venomously.

"Llian might well say the same of us," said Mendark, "since we did our best to shut him in with Rulke. Though he hasn't. You just can't face up to your failings, Yggur, can you? Go on, Llian."

When Llian told of Karan's escape there was a long silence. The wind wailed outside. More than one eye in the camp looked dubiously at them, doubting the miracle, though they seemed more convinced by Karan's version. Mendark was most interested to hear how the internal structure of the Nightland was failing.

"That's something I had never thought of," he said. "Maybe the Nightland will finish him after all. If only-"

"I wouldn't bank on it," snarled Yggur. "Finish the tale, chronicler."

Llian's tale of his own escape produced an immediate reaction.

"I say that he has sold himself to the enemy!" cried Yggur, leaping to his feet. "Crush the scorpion while it is little, or as sure as I am standing here it will bring the mother down on us!"

Llian jumped. Everyone was shocked; no one spoke. Karan's hand flashed to the knife on her belt but Tallia caught her wrist in an unbreakable grip.

"You are presumptuous, Yggur," she said coldly. "The rule of law applies here just as it does in Mendark's realm. There will be a proper questioning. Then, if we judge that he has betrayed us, we will all agree on a penalty. Is that not so, Mendark?"

Whatever his own feelings, Mendark was not going to be dictated to by Yggur. "Indeed! Let him finish his tale first. Llian, be warned that we will weigh your every word."

Llian continued haltingly, knowing he was speaking for his life. The interrogation was worse than any abuse he had suffered from being Zain, but they learned nothing more. Nor did Rulke's compulsion come to light, for that was buried deep and Llian knew nothing about it.

"Tell me again how you escaped," said Yggur, blind eyes glaring through him. He questioned every aspect of Llian's story, over and over. "I'm not satisfied," Yggur said at the end.

"I've already told you a dozen times!" Llian cried.

"Enough, Yggur!" said Mendark. "Karan, Llian, leave us for the moment. Llian, give up your journal and papers."

They read through every word, especially the descriptions of Tensor's gate.

"We need to discuss this further," Mendark said, when they had finished with the documents. "I know that Rulke was exhausted, but even so, how could either of them escape? That both did, separately, beggars credibility. Yet I can find no crack in his story."

"Nor I," said Shand and Malien together. Malien signed for the old man to go first.

"Nor I," Shand repeated. "But the Zain are cunning liars, as we know. How could anyone resist, least of all Llian? He collaborated with Tensor after all."

"Rulke might have let them go," said Malien.

"Of course he let them go!" Yggur shouted. "To spy on us! Kill them both, put an end to it."

There was a horrified silence. Mendark sprang to his feet. "They haven't been tried!"

Yggur retreated a step. "Justice is a weakness we cannot afford with Rulke at large."

"Hold on!" replied Mendark. "That's what your war with Thurkad and me was supposed to be all about-justice! I agree with Malien. Even if Llian has sold himself, what can he do but spy? And if so, which I doubt, the spy can tell us as much about his master."

"Just so," said Malien. "We may learn more about Rulke than he does about us."

"You dare, after what Rulke did to me?" said Yggur incredulously. "Be sure, finish him now."

"Then perhaps we'd better be sure with you as well," Mendark said coldly. "I believe Llian, and he has many skills that I would put to use. We need his mind and memory at our councils."

They questioned Karan just as carefully, though not as long, and in the end put her under no restraint either. It was as clear as anything could be, where Rulke was concerned, that she had told the truth about her escape.

By the time the investigation was completed it was long past time to set out, so they hurriedly began the night's march. In a few hours dawn came with a brilliant flare in the east, and as soon as the sun rose the heat forced them to set up camp again.

While they were doing that Mendark fell in beside Llian. "There is a matter that I did not raise last night," he said. "You have an obligation to me for the fifteen years I sponsored you at the college."

"I am aware of it," said Llian. "What do you require of me?"

"Be sure that you do not forget who is your master," Men-dark said ominously.

"I'm afraid," Llian said after they had gone to their tent.

Karan lay sweating on a sheet spread out on the crumbly salt. Llian had adapted to the conditions but she could not.

"I'm so hot. Fasten the flap, please."

When Llian had done that she took off all her clothes, spread them over the sheet and lay down again, trying to get away from the heat coming up from the ground. Her luminously pale skin was shiny with perspiration.

Llian was peering out through the flap of the tent. "Fan me," she said.

He waved his journal listlessly back and forth. The waft stirred her curls. She sighed. "I don't know how I am going to survive this journey."

"I don't know if I am," he replied somberly.

Karan sat up and took his hand, at once contrite. "Llian, I'm sorry! I'm so selfish."

"I'm frightened of Basitor and Yggur."

"Mendark seems to be on your side."

"Only because he wants something from me! I'm afraid of everyone now, except you. And most of all Rulke. Karan, the temptation was unbearable. That time when I ... when I searched your room for the Mirror, that was nothing to this."

She drew him down. They lay together, saying nothing, but sweating more than the heat required.

Karan had been feeling on edge all the night's march. When they stopped at dawn she ate her skagg silently then went immediately to the tent, which Llian had put up in the shade of a low ridge. She threw off her clothes again and slept, not waking when he came in shortly after.

The day wore on, and it was hot even by the standards of the Dry Sea. The whole camp slept-no need for guards out here.

Karan gave a little sigh and turned over in her sleep. Her eyes began to race under their lids. She began to pant. "Ohh!" she said, making a moaning sound in her throat that could have been pleasure or pain. "Ohh, ohh, ohh!"

Llian woke from his own fractured sleep to see her jerk upright. Her eyes were open, her arms held out like a sleep walker. Rising to her feet, she drew her arms back to her chest, took three deep breaths, standing spread-legged like a weightlifter, then gave a loud, groaning cry and forced her arms straight up as if lifting a weight above her head.

One hand knocked out the ridgepole, collapsing the canvas around her. She struck blindly at the cloth over her face then folded up on the floor, bringing the tent down on them both.

Llian lifted it up again. Karan was awake now, staring at him with a look of hungry despair. "I'm scared, Llian." She took his hand, then the rest of the company were outside the tent, crying out what was the matter.

"Karan had a bad dream," said Llian, putting his head out.

They went away again, though Yggur gave Llian a long smoldering stare as if he could pierce through the veil of blindness and see right into his mind.

"What was your dream?" Llian asked once everyone had gone and the tent was back up.

"I dreamed about Rulke. He was standing on top of his construct like a conquering hero and beams of light were coming out the front of it. The light burned everything it touched. He's coming, Llian!"

"Yes!" Llian whispered back. "He's coming!"

She lay down again, staring at the canvas. She could no longer sleep. Karan had left out part of her dream. Llian had been there too, standing at Rulke's right hand like the most faithful of servants.

The following day Karan and Llian were trudging along at the rear, traversing a landscape of a thousand head-high knobs, pinnacles and winding, maze-like gullies. The others were well ahead. They turned a corner and Yggur stood in the middle of the path, blocking their way. Llian looked over his shoulder to see huge Basitor step out behind them.

Llian froze. "What is it?" said Karan absently, still lost in her own worries.

"Spies!" Basitor spat. "Traitors!"

"Liars!" said Yggur. "Sit down, Karan and Llian. We're going to have a little talk."

No choice but to do so-the rest of the company were out of earshot. They sat on a weathered ledge of salt the color of yellow ocher. Basitor drew a long knife with a chisel point.

"Now, Llian," Yggur said, "you will tell me what happened last night or ..." He nodded toward Basitor.

The big Aachim squatted down in front of Karan. "Or I gouge out her eyes."

"There's nothing to tell," Karan said calmly. She was terrified but dared not show it. "I dreamed about Rulke. He was standing on his construct and a great light shone out the front of it."

Yggur brought his face right up to hers, staring at her nose to nose. "And that's all?" he asked, his breath sour on her face. His pupils were glazed with a yellow film.

"Yes," she whispered, but her eyes drifted sideways as she spoke. She could not stop them.

"She's lying!" Basitor cried, thrusting out his knife until the point touched her lower eyelid. "Speak true, Karan, or I swear I'll have your eyeballs dangling down your cheeks."

"Karan," Llian yelped, "if there's any more, tell them!"

Tears of terror were running down her cheeks. She shook her head.

"Then do him!" Yggur grated, jerking his head at Llian.

Llian flung his head to one side, cracking his ear against hard salt. Basitor grabbed him by the jaw, squeezing hard. His other hand brought the knife up to Llian's eye. Llian went as rigid as an iron gate, staring unblinking at the point.

"Well, Karan?" said Yggur nastily. "What is it to be? Your lover's eyes or ...?" He slowly brought the knife lower.

"I dreamed that Llian was there too, standing beside Rulke," she said in a rush. "But that's all it was-a dream!"

"That proves his villainy. Is there anything else you want to tell us?" Basitor said, pricking Llian's groin.

"No," she said softly. "There was nothing else." Llian's eyes were watering. She gently wiped the tears from his cheek.

The knife prodded back up. "We haven't finished yet, by a long mark," said Yggur. 'Tell us about the Nightland, Llian. Tell us what you really did there those five days by yourself."

Llian began to tell the story again, but Yggur interrupted. "We've heard that story. Tell us the real story."

Llian shook his head. They would maim him, gouge out his eyes, for he had nothing more to tell. Karan saw their only chance. Yggur was awkward, practically blind. She could get away from him easily. But Basitor was another thing entirely-very fast, very agile. She might escape him but Llian never would.

Karan's hand was on the ground beside her seat. It closed on gritty dust and as Basitor moved the knife between Llian and her, she flung her handful into his eyes.

It blinded him but Basitor kept going, lunging with the knife toward the place he knew Karan to be, throwing his other arm sideways in case she darted that way.

Llian hooked his foot around Basitor's leg, bringing him down. The knife arced toward Karan with all his weight behind it. She jerked frantically to one side, the knife jammed into the salt beside her throat, then Basitor slammed down on top of her, cracking heads.