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The robed thing seemed to regard Simon for a moment。 〃Perhaps；〃 it said slowly。 〃But did you bring another as well； in case the Master has other plans for these？ Did you bring blood for the Binding？〃
〃I did； oh； yes！〃 In the presence of these strange beings the cruel Fire Dancer chieftain had bee as humble and ingratiating as an old courtier。 〃Two who tried to flee the Master's great promise！〃 He turned and gestured to the knot of other Fire Dancers still waiting nervously at the edge of the hilltop。 There was shouting and a convulsion of activity； then a handful of the white…robed figures dragged two others forward。 One of the captured pair had lost his hood in the struggle。
〃God curse you！〃 shouted Roelstan； sobbing。 〃You promised that if we brought you those two we'd be forgiven！〃
〃You have been forgiven；〃 Maefwaru said cheerfully。 〃I forgive you your foolishness。 But you cannot escape punishment。 No one flees the Master。〃
Roelstan collapsed； sagging to his knees while the men around him tried to tug him back onto his feet。 His wife Gullaighn might have fainted； she hung limply in the arms of her captors。
Simon's heart seemed to rise into his throat； for a moment； he could not breathe。 They were powerless； and there was no help to be expected this time。 They would die here on this windswept hill…or the Storm King would take them； as Maefwaru had said； which would surely be unimaginably worse。 He turned to look at Miriamele。
The princess seemed half…asleep； her eyes lidded； her lips moving。 Was she praying？
〃Miriamele！ Those are Norns！ The Storm King's servants！〃
She ignored him； absorbed in her own thoughts。
〃Damn you； Miriamele； don't do this！ We have to think…we have to get free！〃
〃Shut your mouth； Simon！〃 she hissed。
He was thunderstruck。 〃What！？〃
〃I'm trying to get something。〃 Miriamele pushed against me dead tree； her shoulders moving up and down as she fidgeted behind her back。 〃It's at the bottom of the pocket of my cloak。〃
〃What is it？〃 Simon strained closer； until his hands could feel her fingers beneath the cloth。 〃A knife？〃
〃No； they took my knife。 It's your mirror…the one Jiriki gave you。 I've had it since I cut your hair。〃 Even as she spoke； he felt the wooden frame slide free from the pocket and touch his fingers。 〃Can you take it？〃
〃What good will it do？〃 He gripped it as firmly as he could。 〃Don't let go yet； not until I've got it。 There。〃 He tugged it loose； holding it tightly in his bound hands。
〃You can call Jiriki！〃 she said triumphantly。 〃You said that it was to be used in direst need。〃
Simon's momentary elation ebbed。 〃But it doesn't work that way。 He doesn't just appear。 It's not that kind of magic。〃
Miriamele was silent for a moment。 When she spoke； she； too； was more subdued。 〃But you said it brought Aditu when you were lost in the forest。〃
〃It took her days to find me。 We don't have days； Miri。〃
〃Try it anyway；〃 she said stubbornly。 〃It can't hurt。 Maybe Jiriki is somewhere close by。 It can't hurt！〃
〃But I can't even see it；〃 Simon protested。 〃How can I make it work without being able to look into it？〃
〃Just try！〃
Simon bit back further argument。 He took a deep breath； then forced himself to think of his own face as it had looked the last time he had seen it in the Sithi glass。 He could remember things generally； but suddenly could not remember details…what color were his eyes； exactly？ And the scar on his cheek； the burning mark of dragon's blood…how long was it？ Past the bottom of his nose？
For a brief moment； as the memory of the searing pain from Igjarjuk's black blood washed through him； he thought he felt the frame of the looking glass warm beneath his ringers。 A moment later； it was cold again。 He tried to summon the feeling back； but was unsuccessful。 He kept on fruitlessly for long moments。
〃It's no use；〃 he said wearily。 〃I can't do it。〃
〃You're not trying hard enough；〃 Miriamele snapped。
Simon looked up。 The Fire Dancers were paying no attention to Miriamele or him； their interest fixed instead on the weird scene beside the bonfire。 The two renegades； Roelstan and Gullaighn； had been carried to the top of the large stone and forced onto their backs。 Their four captors stood atop the rock holding their ankles； so that the prisoners' heads hung down； arms dangling helplessly。 〃Usires Aedon！〃 Simon swore。 〃Look at that！〃
〃Don't look；〃 said Miriamele。 〃Just use the mirror。〃
〃I told you； I can't。 And it wouldn't do any good anyway。〃 He paused for a moment； watching the contorted； upside…down mouth of Roelstan； who was shouting incoherently。 The three Norns stood before him； looking up as if at some interesting bird sitting on a branch。
〃Bloody Tree；〃 Simon swore again； then dropped the mirror to the ground。
〃Simon！〃 Miriamele said； horrified。 〃Have you gone mad？ Pick it up！〃
He lifted his foot and ground his heel into the looking glass。 It was very strong； but he hooked it over so that it was tilted against the tree； then stepped down hard。 The frame did not give； but the crystalline surface broke with a faint percussive sound； for a moment； the scent of violets rose around them。 Simon kicked it again； scattering transparent shards。
〃You have gone mad！〃 The princess was in despair。
Simon closed his eyes。 Forgive me； Jiriki； he thought。 But Morgenes told me any gift that cannot be thrown away is not a gift but a trap。 He crouched as deeply as he could； but the rope that held him to the trunk would not allow his fingers to reach the shattered mirror。
〃Can you get to that？〃 he asked Miriamele。
She stared at him for a moment； then slid herself as low as she could。 She； too； was several handlengths short of the goal。 〃No。 Why did you do it？〃
〃It was no good to us；〃 Simon said impatiently。 〃Not in one piece； anyway。〃 He caught at one of the larger shards with his foot and dragged it closer。 〃Help me。〃
Arduously； Simon got his toe beneath the piece of crystal and tried to lift it high enough for Miriamele's abbreviated reach； but the contortion was too difficult and it slid away； tumbling to the ground once more。 Simon bit his lip and tried again。
Three times the shard fell free； forcing them to begin over。 Fortunately； the Fire Dancers and the black…robed Norns seemed caught up in the preparations for their ritual； whatever it might be。 When Simon sneaked a glance toward the center of the clearing； Maefwaru and his minions were on their knees before the stone。 Roelstan had stopped shouting； he made weak sounds and thrashed； striking his head against the stone。 Gullaighn hung motionless。
This time； as the jagged thing began to slide off his boot again； Simon lurched to the side and managed to trap it against the leg of Miriamele's breeches。 He pushed his own leg against it to keep it from falling； then lowered his foot to the ground before he toppled。
〃Now what？〃 he asked himself。
Miriamele pushed against him； then slowly moved up onto her toes； lifting the shard higher along Simon's leg。 It sliced through the rough cloth with surprising ease； drawing blood； but Simon remained as still as he could； unwilling to let a little pain deter them。 He was impressed by Miriamele's cleverness。
When she had lifted herself as high as she could； they moved again so that the crystal fragment rested primarily on Simon； then Miriamele eased herself back down。 Next it was Simon's turn。 The process was excruciatingly slow； and the crystal itself seemed sharper than any normal mirror…glass。 By the time the shard was almost close enough for Simon to grasp in his hand； both prisoners had legs ribboned with blood。
As he strained his fingers toward it； and found it still just beyond reach； Simon felt the hackles on his neck rise。 Across the hilltop； the Norns had begun to sing。
The melody rose like a serpent rearing above its coils。 Simon found himself starting to slide away into a sort of dream。 The voices were cold and fearsome； but also strangely beautiful。 He thought he heard the hollow echo of measureless caverns； the musical drip of slow…melting ice。 He could not understand the words； but the ageless magic of the song was unmistakable。 It drew him along like a subterranean stream； down； down into darkness。。。
Simon shook his head； trying to drive the grogginess away。 Neither of the captives dangling across the top of the rock was struggling now。 Beneath them； the Norns had spread out until they formed a rough triangle around the jut of stone。
Simon strained against the rope as hard as he could； wincing as the hemp bit into his wrists； it tormented his flesh as though he were bound in smoldering metal。 Miriamele saw the tears form in his eyes and leaned against him； pushing her head against his shoulder as though she could somehow force the pain away。 Simon strained； gasping for air。 At last； his fingers touched the cold edge。 Just the light contact sliced his skin； but the thin bright line of pain signaled victory。 Simon sighed in relief。
The Norns' song ended。 Maefwaru rose from his kneeling position and made his way forward to the stone。 〃Now is the time；〃 he cried。 〃Now the Master shall see our loyalty！ It is time to call forth His Third House！〃
He turned and said something to the Norns in a voice too low for Simon to hear； but Simon was paying little attention in any case。 He grasped the shard of crystal in his fingers； unmindful of shedding a little more of his own blood as long as it did not make his hold too slippery； then turned and began feeling blindly for Miriamele's bound wrists。
〃Don't move；〃 he said。
Maefwaru had been given a long knife that glinted in the wavering firelight like something from a nightmare。 He stepped to the rock； then reached up and grabbed Roelstan's hair； pulling it so hard that the captive's ankles were almost tugged loose from the grip of the Fire Dancers atop the rock。 Roelstan raised his hands as if to fight； but his movements were horribly slow： he might have been drowning in great depths。 Maefwaru pulled the blade across Roelstan's neck and stepped back； but could not avoid all the blood that spurted free； darkness spattered his face and white robe。
Roelstan thrashed。 Simon stared； sickened but fascinated； as streams of blood ran down the face of the pale rock。 Gullaighn； hanging upside down beside her dying husband； began to shriek。 Where the red liquid pooled at the base of the stone； the ground…hugging mist turned crimson； as though the blood itself had been rendered into fog。
〃Simon！〃 Miriamele bumped against him。 〃Hurry！〃 He reached out to find her fingers； then followed them up to the knots around her wrists。 He placed the slick fragment of crystal against the bristling rope and began to saw。
They still faced the bonfire and the bloody stone。 Miriamele's eyes were wide in her pale face。 〃Please hurry！〃
Simon grunted。 It was difficult enough just keeping the crystal in his lacerated； blood…dripping hand。 And what was happening in the center of the hilltop was making him even more frightened than he had been。
The red mist had spread until it surrounded and partially obscured the great stone。 The Fire Dancers were chanting now； cracked voices unpleasantly echoing the poison…sweet song of the Norns。
There was a movement in the mist； a pale bulky something that Simon at first thought was the stone itself given magical life。 Then it strode forward out of the reddened darkness on four huge legs and the earth seemed to shudder beneath its tread。 It was a great white bull； bigger than any Simon had ever seen； taller than a man at its shoulders。 Despite its solidity； it seemed oddly translucent； as though it had been sculpted from fog。 Its eyes burned like coals； and its bone…hued horns seemed to cradle the sky。 On its back； riding like a knight on a horse； sat a massive black…robed figure。 Terror beat out from this apparition like the heat of a summer sun。 Simon felt first his fingers； then his hands go nerveless； so that he could not tell if he was still holding the precious sha