'Probably so,' Rhodry said. 'How long do you think we'll be here?'

Garin looked disgusted and raised his hands to the heavens.

'If Otho would mind his nasty tongue, I've no doubt we'd be on our way to Haen Marn in a bare two days. If.'

'I sec. We could be here a fortnight, then.'

'Well, I hope not that long. I'll keep a watch over him, like, and his brother will, too.'

'That reminds me,' Mic chimed in. 'He said I can go. My father, I mean. He said I could go on with you to Haen Marn, at least, and maybe beyond if Garin here thinks it safe.'

'It's never going to be safe, lad.' Garin said. 'Hunting dragons. But I'll a.s.sess the risk, like, when we get there. It would be a good thing for you to spend some time with Enj, if it looks like you've got a chance of living through this little adventure.' He glanced Rhodry's way. 'I've been thinking it's time I took an apprentice, like, and Mic here seems to get along well on the outside.'

'Ah. May I ask just what your craft is, then?'

'I never did explain.' Garin paused for a grin. 'I'm an envoy, and among us, that's not such an easy thing to be, a man who goes back and forth between different cities, to say naught of going down among your people. You have heralds and emissaries and even war leaders, and in a way, I'm a bit of all of those.

Not that I could captain a troop in a battle, I mean, but when we go outside, we need someone who can make himself listened to, like, and obeyed if the situation demands it'

'It's dangerous, outside,' Mic said. 'We all know that. But I don't know why, but it's fascinating as well.'

'And the very fact you think so, Mic lad, is the reason I'm considering taking you on. Well, we'll see what Enj has to say about it, too, but if naught else, you'll travel to Haen Mam and see what you can see.

And I'll see how it affects you, being outside for so long.'

'It's a fair ways to Haen Marn, then?' Rhodry said.

'It is. It lies to the north and the west, and it's not so easy to find, even for a man who's been there before.' Garin paused, looking away in some abstraction. 'If they don't want you to find it, you never will, and even if you find it, you may or may not be welcome there. But that's a worry for another day.

First we've got to get the judges to let Otho go, so he can oversee the paying of the debt we owe you before they take up the matter of his old debt.'

'If they want to hold the trial first, how long?'

'Months.' Garin made a sound halfway between a growl and a groan. 'It'll be deep winter by then, and we'll never survive up in the high mountains.' He glanced at Mic. 'Your father and I are just going to have to make your uncle mind his manners, and that's that.'

Garin summoned the servants by the expedient method of sticking his head out the door and shouting.

Once the meal was cleared away, Garin and Mic retired for the night as well, leaving behind them a silver flask of a murky dark liquor that tasted stronger than Bardek wine and a small gla.s.s goblet to drink it out of. Rhodry poured himself a moderate amount and sat back in the window again to watch the stars over the cliffs of Lin Serr. Where was Alshandra, he wondered, and what was she up to? He hated thinking about her for more than a moment or two, so much so that he realized he was afraid, deep in his heart, that mentioning her name would summon her.

Overhead the great drift of the Snowy Road hung across the clear sky, so close in the mountain air that it seemed he could step out of the window and walk onto it, to follow it where? Evandar's country, perhaps, or the Otherlands. lie looked down at the sheer drop, hundreds of feet into the night and laughed, just softly under his breath, then raised the goblet in a toast.

'To my one true love,' he said. 'My Lady Death.' tie finished the liquor off, then swung his legs back into the safety of the room and the solidity of the stone floor, before he was tempted to let Jill's errand go hang and join his beloved instead.

On the astral border, there was peace, too much peace to be trusted - not one gashed tree, ruined tower, burnt or plundered view, not a single hoof print, heap of offal, cracked stone, dead animal to mark his brother's presence or pa.s.sing did Evandar see on his long ride round his country. No doubt the evil fool was plotting something, then, lurking in his own territory and scheming no good. Only Evandar himself seemed to have achieved this dark insight, however. When he gave the order to turn toward the astral river and the place they all called home, the men of the Bright Court riding behind him sang aloud.

Those who possessed some sort of consciousness, whether true or rudimentary, began the song and carried the melody, while the shadow creatures, the Bickerings, they who might or might not someday evolve from a concatenation of energies into individuals - they hummed and rumbled and warbled in harmony and descant. Evandar was surprised to find himself pleased that they were happy. Never before had he done a thing to make them happy, the way he'd restored their part of the Lands. He was planning on telling Dallandra about this strange thing, that he'd done them a favour, and in turn it had pleased him.

When they reached the river, flowing broad and silver in the noontime light, the golden pavilion still stood, a good omen in itself. The men of the Court dismounted, scattered, flickering here and there about the magical lands and taking their less than real but more than imaginary steeds with them. Left alone, Evandar dismounted, calling for his page. Nothing answered him but silence. His horse, which was as real as he was and in the same manner, tossed its head with a jingle of silver bridle rings.

'Here! Boy! Come take my mount to its stable!'

Not a sound, not a word, not a sigh of wind broke a silence turned suddenly grim. Leading the horse, Evandar walked to the door of the pavilion and peered inside. Tables lay overturned and broken. So. His brother had gone too far, this time, encroached upon the holdings of the Bright Court and taken himself a prisoner.

His first thought was to summon the Court again and ride out to war. His second, more prudent, was to discuss this matter with Dallan-dra. She'd promised him, after all, that she'd return to speak with him before sinking back down in the world of Time and Death to tend to Elessario's birthing, and her return was due soon. Evandar decided that he'd stable the horse himself and then summon a harper or two to entertain him while he waited. Once he'd spoken to Dalla, then would be the time for his rescue and revenge.

For some days Rhodry waited for the judgment upon Otho's request to postpone his trial. For the first day, walking round the main cavern turned out to be amus.e.m.e.nt enough. The area into which he was allowed stretched several hundred yards across, and every inch of the walls lining it sported intricate decorations, some stone, some steel. Some of the panels depicted the countryside round Lin Serr; others showed scenes of farming life or hunting in the woodlands. The bas-reliefs that he found the most interesting, however, told stories from the past of the Lin Serr clan. Some showed an unfamiliar landscape which, Garin confirmed, surrounded their old home in the far west, Lin Rej. There were views of those ancient caverns as well, and portraits of the folk that had lived there.

While Rhodry made his way round, studying each panel in turn, the citizens of Lin Serr came and went, hurrying across from tunnel to tunnel on their own affairs. Most ignored him, a few honoured him with gruff nods not so much of greeting but acknowledgment that he existed. Mostly for something to do, Rhodry spent hours watching them and came across a puzzle that he mentioned to Garin and Mic that night at dinner.

'I don't mean to be insulting,' Rhodry said. 'Or pry unwanted into your ways or suchlike, but I've got to ask. Where are your womenfolk? I've not seen a one since we've been here.'

'No offence taken,' Garin said. 'It's a natural enough question.'

'Truly,' Mic joined in 'I can see why you'd wonder, now that I've been to your country Why, you see women all over the place, walking round right in the sunlight '

Rhodry waited for some minutes, but neither said a thing more Apparently he could ask, but he wasn't going to be answered The next morning Rhodry walked out to the old gates He staved close to the cliffs and kept a good watch, as well, but whether it was the presence of Lin Serr's iron, or whether she was off on some other evil errand, Alshandra never appeared For a while he sat in the gra.s.s in front of the gateway and studied both towers - the freestanding spire, the half-carved column still joined to the cliffs along one tall side This second tower sported two smaller round structures, in shape much like a Deverry broch, at its base - the old guardrooms, or so Gann had told him When Rhodry explored them, he found them crammed with stored weapons, iron single-bitted axes, spearheads on old and splitting wooden shafts, knives of various shapes They'd all been thickly greased to keep the rust off, and the smell of ancient lard in hot rooms drove him out in a short while Before he left, though, he found some iron knives of the same crude form and primitive construction as the bronze knife he carried at his belt He could guess that someone in Evandar's country had seen dwarven workmanship, but of an era very long gone Out on the freestanding spire, a ramp ran some thirty feet up the side to an open doorway Rhodry paused there to catch his breath and look back at the lacey cliffs of the city, then went inside He found a tiny chamber, little more than a landing round a stone spiral staircase, sculpted out of living rock For a moment he simply marvelled at it, then started climbing, round and round in one long rise inside the spire Even though it was cool in the shadows, damp with the smell of ancient rock, still he was sweating by the time he finally gained the top The stairs led him out into one last chamber, some twenty feet on a square side, where huge windows dominated each wall, cut thick out of the rock and ledged some five feet wide Rhodry walked round from one to the next, forcing himself to look down at the various views the long rolling plateau south and west, the river and distant hills to the east, the white mountains at the northern horizon beyond the city ttself As long as he was looking at the horizon, he felt perfectly composed, but a sharp look down brought his dizziness and the cold sweat Ht felt that he was taking up a battle that he should have fought long ago and forced himself to look down for as long as he could endure it When he finally turned away his shirt was stuck to his back and chest both After that first visit Rhodry took to spending long hours alone up in the old tower Since Gann and Mic could only spare him odd moments, except for their meals together, and Otho of course was under guard at the law courts, he'd often puff up the long ramp to the guard post in tht spire, where he could sit and look past Lin Serr to the white mountains, just visible over the tops of the artificial cliffs At times, when the warm sun was coming in through the window, he'd drowse off, taking every chance at sleep like the soldier he was In his dreams the mountains a.s.sumed some enormous importance that he could never quite remember when he woke It would stem to him that there among the snows of the high peaks he would finally find a thing for which he'd been searching all his long life, even if he couldn't remember what that thing was Often as well in those dreams he would feel the watchers, the calm, cold gaze of the dragon eyes, the twisted malice of tht human, turning his way In between dreams he would often wonder how Cengarn fared What might be happening to Yraen, Carra, Prince Daralantcriel and all the rest galled him, because he was being forced to do nothing while they might well have been in danger Although he never worried about Jill's safety ~ he was quite confident that she could take good cart of herself- he did often think of her At times, when her memory rose as he watched tht white mountains, ht would find himself coming dangerously close to that secret he refused to uncover, that insight threatening his entire view of the world Perhaps,

ust maybe, and what if, anywav, just what if a man's soul moved on when he died, rather than dying with him, to takt up some new life somewhere, somewheu else? Whenever tht question crept up on him, he would shove it away with a physical shake of his head Late on the fourth afternoon, he was sitting in the window as usual when ht saw Mic trotting across the basin and heading for the spirt, most likely coming to fetch him Rhodry got up and left, hurrying down the long ramp to meet him halfway Mic was grinning in sheer excitement 'We can go'' he called out The council of (udges met today, and they gave Uncle Otho his postponement'

'Splendid'

But Rhodry paused, looking back at the spire rising above with a certain regret. Most likely he would never sit there again, most likely he would never see Liu Serr again, once he left it.

'What's wrong?' Mic said.

'I'll miss this place, that's all.'

'Why? It's not your home city.'

'Well, true spoken. Where's Garin, by the by?'

'Waiting in your quarters. He's got some kind of news, too, but he wouldn't tell me what it was.'

They found the envoy sitting at the table in Rhodry's chamber with a pair of wax-covered tablets in front of him. When they came in, he made a notation and laid his stylus down.

'Just figuring out what we'll need to take with us.' Garin remarked. 'We'll have the mule at first, but we'll have to leave him off at one of the last farms or suchlike. No doubt the farmers will board him for the use of him.'

'No doubt,' Rhodry said. 'Mic told me you had news?'

'I do, and a very strange thing it is. Mic, go find your father and your uncle.'

Mic opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it and left the chamber. Garin waited a few moments.

'The thing is,' the envoy said, 'this is totally unprecedented, so I'd )ust as soon as few people know of it as possible. Otho's mother wants to see you.'

'Otho's mother?'

'Just that. She's very very old, Rhodry, and so sick she's bedridden, but she's been clinging to life for years in the hopes that Otho would return so that she could bid him farewell. Now thanks to you he is back, and she wants to meet the man who saved her eldest son's life.'

'I see. I take it that your womenfolk don't allow strangers to see them very often.'

'Just so.' Garin hesitated for a long moment. 'And here's the hard thing. Will you travel blindfolded into the deep city? Once we're down, we'll take the hood off, but for you to walk down sighted is against every law we have.'

Rhodry hesitated, but he was always aware that his success in finding the dragon, to say naught of staying alive, depended on Garin's good favour.

'Well and good, then. Blind it is.'

'My thanks. I would truly hate to disappoint the old woman. She's not got long left now.'

'Then far be it from me to cause her anguish. When do we go?'

'Soon. One of her sewants - her youngest great-grandson, in fact - will come to fetch us when she wakes from her nap.'

'Ah. Very well, then. Could you answer me one thing? As long as it doesn't go against your laws, I mean. Why do your women hide themselves away? Out of modesty, like our priestesses?'

'There's some of that, but it's more that they hate the outside, and they shun the sunlight, too.' Garin picked up the stylus and began fiddling with it. 'Well, hum. Don't know how much I dare tell you.'

'Now here, it's just curiosity on my part, so don't trouble your heart over it.'

'My thanks. Now then. When we leave Lin Sen, think you'll be able to carry a pack when you have to?'

'If I've got a few days walking first to get my muscles back, I should be able to.' Rhodry flashed him a grin. 'I won't have any choice, will I?'

Before Garin could answer, a knock came at the door. Rhodry opened it to find a boy, a bare three feet high but no infant, waiting outside. Barefooted, the lad wore only a knee-length smock, though he carried a scarf of some fine white cloth. When Garin smiled and spoke to him in Dwarvish, the boy answered in the same, his voice as clear and high as a flute.

'She's ready.' Garin told Rhodry. 'Her maidsewant's just giving her a hot drink, like.'

Rhodry took the long scarf and tossed it over one shoulder. If he was going to have to walk blind at some point, he wanted to carry his own hooding. In the pale blue light from the phosph.o.r.escent walls the three of them hurried across the main cavern, skirting the maze, and turned into an alcove. Ma.s.sive stone stairs led down, plunging straight and steep, much like the flights inside Cengarn, to a narrow landing below. To either side of the marbled floor, tunnels branched off, while ahead yet another flight of stairs plummeted down. Garin waved at the side tunnels.

'These lead to the high city, and truly, if we weren't leaving so soon, I'd try to talk the council round to let you see it. It's a nice bit of work, if I do say so myself. But with luck, we'll be out of here by the morrow noon.'

'I see.' Rhodry glanced down the stairs to darkness. 'Doesn't look like this scarf's going to be all that needful.'

'Well, if you didn't have elven blood in your veins, we wouldn't bother, like, but you do.' Garin considered the slope for a moment. 'I think me that for safety's sake you'd best be able to see on the way down.'

With careful small steps they climbed down, keeping close to the wrought-iron handrails at the side.

After some fifty feet the blue light from the landing above faded away, leaving the darkness grey to Rhodry's half-elvcn sight. The steps just below him he could see, naught else. He had a brief wondering if dying was going to look like this, a peculiar light that would fade into a black like fur, as this light did at the bottom of the stairs.

'Here we are.' Garin was whispering, 'hold where you are.'

Rhodry did as he was told.

'I can't see a thing,' he remarked.

'There'll be light further on.'

'Well and good, then.'

When Rhodry tied the scarf round his eyes, he truly could sense little difference. Garin laid his hand on his arm to guide him.

'Just down here. There aren't any more steps, by the by.'

"Good. How high's the ceiling?'

'A grand thing that you asked.' Garin sounded profoundly apologetic. 'You'll have to stoop a bit, I'm afraid.'

When at a tunnel entrance Rhodry reached up, he found the ceiling some inches shorter than he was. For some fifty paces they walked straight ahead, then Garin guided him round a corner. Through the scarf Rhodry was aware of reddish light, and he could smell charcoal mixed with a resinous incense. As they walked on, the red light faded to be replaced with a dim ghost of the usual blue phosph.o.r.escence. He heard a door open, then shut behind them. They turned a number of times - there were other doors. The dwarves need never worry, he decided, about his ever finding his way through this maze alone. Just as his back was beginning to ache from walking crouched, Baco piped up in Dwarvish.

'The hall of the mothers,' Garin translated. 'You can stand up here, Rhodry, and pull that scarf off.'

'My thanks.'

When Rhodry did so, his eyes adjusted fast to the pale blue light, streaked in places with fine silver fibres - some new kind of moss he supposed, They were standing in a circular cavern of living rock under a dome of the same, festooned with blue and silver light. Behind and ahead, to his left and his right, tunnels led off into darkness. Fresh air wafted through, and he could hear water running with the whisper of a distant waterfall. Waiting in the centre were a group of three women, dressed in long white smocks, belted high under their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Their long jet-black hair was braided or swept up and piled on top of their heads, kept in elaborate place with combs and pins of red and purple gemstones. Although they were no taller than Deverrian girls, they moved with such authority that no one would have ever considered them immature.

When Garin spoke in Dwarvish, they nodded, answering briefly in the same while they looked Rhodry over in some curiosity. One of them walked over and reached up a small and slender hand. For a moment he thought she was going to lay it on his chest, but she merely held it in front of him, moving it in a circular pattern as if she were feeling something in the air while she studied his face. Finally she nodded with a certain satisfaction.

'You may travel on,' she said in Deverrian, and her accent reminded Rhodry sharply of Jahdo's. 'I think you be an honourable enough man, Rhodry son of two fathers, or so I hear be true. Bain't?'

'It is, my lady, in a manner of speaking. I was fathered by one man and raised by another.'

She nodded again, considering.

'Othara do be old,' she said at last. 'She will ramble on, no doubt, but I would ask you be forbearing.'

'I will, my lady.'

With a last nod she glided back to the other women. The three of them moved aside, waving delicate hands at a side tunnel, standing in tableau as the men moved through their domain and onward. In the tunnel Rhodry had to crouch again, but mercifully they had only a few yards to travel to a small wooden door. Baeo spoke to Garin briefly, then knocked.

'You'd best go in alone,' Garin said. 'She tires too easily to have a lot of visitors at once.'

A young dwarven woman, dressed in brown, her hair pulled simply back and tied with a thong, opened the door and ushered him inside. Although he had to stoop to enter, inside the large chamber, heavily perfumed with incense, he could stand. Here the light shone green and silver, and it took him a moment before he could see. The room swarmed with shadows because it was crammed with things: fine chests, chairs, small tables heaped with oddments of silver and steel, leather sacks, cloth sacks, all bulging and piled in corners or arranged on the chests.

On the far side from the door, in a bed made of wrought iron, an ancient, tiny woman lay propped up on pillows and covered by blankets. Her maid had apparently put some effort into this visit, because Othara wore a fringed scarf round her neck, and her thin, pure white hair was elaborately dressed, studded with at least four combs that Rhodry could see. At the sound of his entry she smiled, and her skin lay so tight and thin upon her face that she was no longer truly even wrinkled. When the maid gestured him closer, Othara turned her head his way. Her eyes were so milky and blank that he knew age had blinded her.

'Is this the man that did bring my son to me?' Her voice creaked like a door in the wind. 'Come here.

It's pleasing for me to know what you do look like.'

'Of course, my lady.'

Rhodry knelt at the bedstead and let her touch his face, her fingers moving light and sure as they felt out the shape of it.

'And a handsome lad at that,' she said with a little laugh. 'What be your name again?'

'Rhodry Maelwaedd, my lady.'

'I shall call you Rori, because it be much like a dwarven name, and more becoming.' She turned her head toward her maid, standing in a shadowed corner. 'Lopa, pour the man somewhat to drink. Men always want drink when they pay visits.'

The maid smiled and rummaged at a little table, gliding over in a moment with a gla.s.s goblet of the usual dark liquor.