"It's colder down here," Stephen noticed. "You brought the change of clothes I asked for?"

"Yes. And now I understand why you asked for them. But if you had told me more concerning what we were to do, I might have made more effort to keep keep them dry. I can better serve you, pathikh, if you talk to me more." them dry. I can better serve you, pathikh, if you talk to me more."

"The extra clothes are wet? What about the coats?"

"Drier than what we're wearing, pathikh."

"It'll have to do. When Zemle can walk, we'll move on. Moving will warm us."

"Stephen," Zemle said. "A small question. Tiny, really."

"Yes?"

"There is is another way back, yes?" another way back, yes?"

Stephen glanced at the waterfall. "Right. I guess we can't swim back up that."

"Stephen-"

"Virgenya Dare made it out."

"But you don't know how?"

"She neglected to write about that, I'm afraid. But there must be a way out."

"And we only need find it before we run out of food or freeze to death."

"Don't be a pessimist," Stephen said, his elation starting to fade. "We'll be fine."

"How much farther to the start of the faneway?"

"I'm not sure. Virgenya wasn't sure; it's hard to measure time and distance underground. She reckoned it at several bells but admitted it could have been days."

"What if we get lost?"

"Not much chance of that right now," he said. "We've only one direction to go. Anyway, I can feel the faneway. It's close." He gripped her shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

"A little dizzy, but I can walk."

Adhrekh had dug out the coats from their packs, st.u.r.dy elkhide paiden with fur lining. They were hardly wet at all, and once clothed in one, Stephen felt a great deal better even though he was still wet.

Once everything was gathered again, they started out.

The pa.s.sage bent and turned like the bed of any river and its roof went higher and lower, but it stayed simple in terms of choices. More streams joined it, but they came from above, from fissures too small to accommodate a person. The floor dropped roughly down in places, forcing them to use rope to descend, but was never as dramatic or dangerous as what they already had been through. Not, that is, until they reached the place Virgenya Dare called simply "the valley." Stephen knew they were approaching it because the close echoes of the tunnel began opening up, becoming vastly more hollow, along with the sound of rushing water.

They came to the lip where the river churned and fell far from sight, and a vast black s.p.a.ce yawned before them.

"And now?" Zemle asked.

"There should be stairs here," Stephen said, searching along the ledge. The river must have flooded at times and eaten at the sides of the mouth, creating a shallow, low-roofed cave that went off to the left of the opening. After a moment he found what the Born Queen must have been talking about, and he groaned in dismay.

"What's wrong?" Zemle asked, trying to see around him.

"Two thousand years," Stephen sighed.

There were indeed stairs cut into the stone of the wall, but the first four yards of them were gone, doubtless eroded by the floods he had just been considering. After that, the steps that remained looked gla.s.sy and worn. To reach them meant leaping three yards and falling two and then avoiding slipping upon landing. Or breaking a leg. And once there, he had no a.s.surance there wasn't a similar gap farther on.

Behind him, he heard Adhrekh in a hushed conversation.

"Any ideas?" Stephen asked.

He heard the quick thump of footsteps and air brushed at his locks. Then he saw one of the Aitivar hurl himself into s.p.a.ce toward the eroded stairs.

"Saints!" Stephen gasped. He didn't have time to say anything else before the fellow hit the stair, flailed for balance, teetered-and fell. Then he could only stare.

"Who-who was that?" he finally managed.

"Unvhel," Adhrekh said.

"Why-" But then another one was running past him.

"Wait-"

But of course it was too late. The jumper hit the step, and his foot slipped, so that he fell like a tomfool at a traveling show, landing on his prat and sliding. Stephen held his breath, sure the Aitivar would go over, but he somehow caught himself and managed to slip down the water-worn steps to stable footing.

Stephen turned to Adhrekh. "What is wrong with you people?" he asked, trying to contain his anger. "You were just on about how long you could live if you didn't do anything stupid."

"You shamed us at the waterfall, pathikh. If I had known your plan, one of us would have gone in first. We were determined not to let you risk yourself so foolishly again."

"What good would it have done to go into the water before me? I wouldn't have known if you made it or not."

"Begging your pardon, pathikh, but you might have been able to hear us below. You've walked the faneway of Saint Decma.n.u.s."

Stephen reluctantly acknowledged that with a tilt of his head. "So you sent them to jump before I could try it?"

"Yes."

"But I wouldn't have jumped."

Adhrekh shrugged. "Very well. But someone had to, unless you know some other way down."

"I don't."

A sharp ringing commenced, and Stephen realized that the Aitivar on the steps was working at the stone with a hammer and chisel, probably trying to create some purchase to tie a rope to. Another Sefry began the same work on their side. After perhaps half a bell, a rope was fixed across the gulf, and Adhrekh went across, hanging upside down, hooking his legs over the cord and using his hands to pull himself along.

Before Stephen went, they tied a second rope around his waist. An Aitivar held it at either end so that if he fell, they had a chance of stopping him. That safeguard made Stephen feel a bit condescended to but infinitely safer, and he insisted that Zemle be brought across in the same fashion.

Finally, with the exception of a man Stephen hadn't known the name of, they were all on the stairs.

The footing improved after ten or so kingsyards, the steps becoming more defined and the way wider. The witchlights occasionally showed the other side of the creva.s.se but not the bottom, or the roof, for that matter.

"It's colder still," Zemle noticed.

"Yes," Stephen agreed. "There is much debate about the nature of the world beneath. Some mountains spew fire and molten rock, so one would imagine there is great heat below. And yet caves tend to be cold."

"Rather that than molten rock," she replied.

"Yes. What was that?"

"I didn't hear anything."

"Up above, at the waterfall: a sort of sc.r.a.ping sound, like something big coming through."

"Something big?"

"Archers," Adhrekh said quietly.

Stephen tried to focus in the direction of the sound, but beyond their luminous companions there was only darkness.

"Is there any way to dampen the witchlights?" Stephen asked. "They make us easy to see."

And then he smelled it, a hot, animal, resiny smell, just like the trace of scent in the aerie.

"He's here," Stephen said, trying to keep his voice from showing his building panic.

A warm breeze blew across them, and Stephen heard the sharp hum of a bowstring.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE G GEOS.

THE BEAST saw Aspar coming and whipped its snake-necked head around, lifting its great batlike wings in challenge. saw Aspar coming and whipped its snake-necked head around, lifting its great batlike wings in challenge.

Aspar rushed to meet it, trying in the few instants he had to see where he should strike.

As on a bat, its wings were its forelimbs. It was crouched down on its hind legs, so he couldn't see much of them. The head was vaguely canine, like some mixture of wolf and snake, and sat atop a kingsyard of sinuous neck.

That long throat seemed the safest bet. The feyknife ought to cut right through it.

But then it beat its wings and jumped, and as its long, sinewy rear legs unfolded, he realized that despite a few details, the thing was grown more like a fighting c.o.c.k than a bat, as it was suddenly above him, kicking down with wicked claws and dirklong heel spurs. It was fast. fast.

Aspar had too much momentum to stop, so he pivoted to his right, but not quickly enough. The spur of one foot struck his chest.

To Aspar's surprise and relief, the thing wasn't as heavy as it looked. Although the claw probably would have laid open his chest if he hadn't been warded, it didn't have the force to cut through the boiled leather cuira.s.s he wore beneath his shirt.

It did stick there, though, and the thing shrieked and yanked, trying to get loose. Then it did the more logical thing and kicked its other set of talons at Aspar's face. Aspar brought the feyknife up and through the wedged claw and almost couldn't feel the blade cutting. Then he bounded up and slashed at the neck.

Its reflexes were better. It hurled up and back, shrilling- -and going straight into Winna, who went sprawling on her back.

Aspar started after the beast, but suddenly heard the thrumming of hooves and glanced to see what it was. The monster looked, too, but not in time to dodge the spear that struck it in the ribs and lifted it off the ground, propelling it along with the weight of a bay charger and an armored knight behind it. The knight slammed it into the trunk of an ash, and the spear shivered. The terrible beast crumpled and then started haltingly to get up.

The knight dismounted, drawing his sword.

"Wait," Aspar said. "It might be poison."

He was trying not to think that if it was like the greffyn, Winna was already venomed.

The knight hesitated, then nodded.

Aspar walked over to the creature. Its skin was barely cut, but it was clear that much was broken inside. It watched him come with curiously blank eyes, but when he was close enough, it hopped at him again. It was slower than before.

Aspar sidestepped, caught the leg above the claws with his left hand, and severed the whole limb with the feyknife. Dark, almost purple blood jetted from the stump as the head darted down to bite him. Aspar kept the knife coming up, however, and it went through the serpentine neck as if slicing soft cheese.

He turned away from the b.l.o.o.d.y work and found Winna hobbling toward him.

"Stay back," he shouted more loudly than he meant to.

She stopped, her eyes widening.

"The blood," he explained. "Every one of these things is different. Its touch may not be so bad, but its blood might."

He noticed she was rubbing her elbow.

"Were you hurt when you fell?"

"It's you," she said feebly. "I should have known. All I had to do was find a monster..."

"Yah, it's me," he said more softly, unable to keep his gaze from jumping down to her belly.

"You're-"

"Yah," she said. "Yah." She smiled a wavery little smile. "I knew you couldn't be dead. I told them." He saw that tears were streaming down her face. She reached out her arms, but he took a step back, and she nodded.

"Saints, then," she said, straightening and wiping her cheeks. "Get cleaned up so I can greet you proper. And you can tell me where you've been all this-"

Her gaze went out over his shoulder and became suddenly less tender. "Oh," she said. "h.e.l.lo."

"h.e.l.lo," he heard Leshya say behind him.

Ah, sceat, he thought. he thought.

The knight had his helmet off, and he looked familiar.