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The walls of the inner keep； covered in carvings of mythical beasts and only slightly better…known saints； appeared through the gloom。 The door was half…open； deep shadow lay beyond。 Simon struggled briefly； but he was held far too firmly by unyielding white fingers。 He stretched his neck in desperation； trying to get a last view of the sky。
Hanging in the murky northern night between Pryrates' stronghold and Green Angel Tower was a spot of shimmering red light…an angry scarlet star。
The poorly lit corridors went on and on。 The Hayholt had always been called the greatest house of all； but Simon was dully surprised at how large it truly was。 It almost seemed that new passageways were being created just on the far side of every door。 Although the night outside had been calm； the corridors were full of chilly breezes； Simon saw only a few； flitting shapes at the far ends of passageways； but the shadows were lively with voices and strange sounds。
Still clutching him firmly； the Norns dragged Simon through a doorway that opened onto a steep； narrow stairwell。 After a long climb down； during which he was wedged so close between the two silent immortals that he thought he could feel their cold skin drawing the heat from his body； they reached another empty corridor； then quickly turned down into another stairwell。
They're taking me down to the tunnels； Simon thought in despair。 Down into the tunnels again。 Oh； God； down into the dark！
They stopped at last before a large door of iron…bound oak。 One of the Norns produced a great crude key from its robe and pushed it into the lock； then tugged the door open with a flick of its white wrist。 A billow of hot； smoky air pushed out； stinging Simon's nose and eyes。
He wavered stupidly for a long moment； waiting for whatever would happen next。 At last he looked up。 The Norns' flat； expressionless black eyes stared back at him。 Was this the prison chamber； he wondered？ Or was this the place where they threw the bodies of their victims？
He found the strength to speak。 〃If you want me to go in there； then you might as well make me go in。〃 He stiffened his muscles to resist。
One of the Norns gave him a push。 Simon caught at the door and teetered for a moment on the threshold； then overbalanced and toppled through into emptiness。
There was no floor。
A moment later he discovered that there was a floor； but that it was several cubits lower than the doorway。 He hit on broken stone and tumbled forward with a shout of startlement and pain。 He lay for a moment； panting； and stared up at the play of firelight across the surprisingly high ceiling。 The air was full of strange hissing noises。 The lock clanked overhead as the key was turned。
Simon rolled over and found that he was not alone in this place。 A half…dozen strangely clad men…if they were men： their faces were almost entirely covered by dirty rags…stood a short distance away； staring at him。 They made no move toward him。 If they were torturers； Simon thought； they must be tired of their work。
Beyond them lay a large cavern that seemed to have been fitted for animals rather than men。 A few ragged blankets were piled against the walls like empty nests； a trough of water； reflecting the scarlet glow； seemed full of molten metal。 Instead of a solid stone wall； which Simon would have expected to see at the back of a prison chamber； the far side of the cavern was an opening into some bigger place beyond； a great space full of flickering； fiery light。 Somewhere a pained voice cried out。
He stared； amazed。 Had he been carried all the way down to the flame pits of Hell？ Or had the Norns built their own version to torment their Aedonite prisoners？
The figures before him； which had been standing stolidly as grazing animals； suddenly dispersed and moved quickly to the sides of the cavern。 Simon saw a terrifyingly familiar silhouette appear in the open space between the two caverns。 Without thinking； he scuttled to one side and pushed himself back into a shadowed recess； then pulled a stinking blanket up to his eyes。
Pryrates still had his back to the smaller cavern and to Simon； shouting to someone out of sight； the alchemist's head reflected an arc of fire。 After a few last words； he turned and came forward； bootheels crunching in shattered stone。 He crossed the cavern and climbed stone stairs to the narrow ledge； then pushed the flat of his hand against the door。 It swung outward； then thumped shut again behind him。
Simon had thought himself beyond any further fear or surprise； but now he was slack…mouthed with astonishment。 What was Pryrates doing here when he had said he was going to Wentmouth？ Even the king thought he had gone to Wentmouth； Why should the alchemist deceive his master？
And where is 〃here〃 anyway？
Simon looked up quickly at a sound nearby。 One of the rag…masked figures was approaching him； moving with the aching slowness of a very old man。 The man； for his eyes above the cloth were clearly human； stopped before Simon and stared at him for a moment。 He said something； but it was too muffled for Simon to understand。
〃What？〃
The man reached up and slowly peeled the stiff cloth away from his face。 He was almost impossibly gaunt； and his seamed face was covered with gray whiskers； but there was something about him that suggested he might be younger than he looked。
〃Lucky this time； eh？〃 said the stranger。
〃Lucky？〃 Simon was puzzled。 Had the Norns put him in with madmen？
〃The priest。 Lucky that'un had other business this time。 Lucky there be no more 。。。 tasks he needs prisoners for。〃
〃I don't know what you're talking about。〃 Simon stood up out of his crouch； feeling the bruises from his most recent fall。
〃You 。 。 。 you be no forge man；〃 said the stranger； squinting。 〃Dirty you be； but there's no smoke on you。〃
〃The Norns captured me；〃 Simon said after a moment's hesitation。 He had no reason to trust this man…but he had no reason not to。 〃The White Foxes；〃 he amended when he saw no recognition on the other's gaunt face。
〃Ah； those devils。〃 The man furtively made the sign of the Tree。 〃We see 'em sometimes； but only at a ways off。 Godless； unnatural things they be。〃 He looked Simon up and down； then moved a little closer。 〃Don't tell no one else that you be not a forge man；〃 he whispered。 〃Here； e here。〃
He led Simon a little to one side。 The other masked men looked up； but seemed little interested in the newer。 Their eyes were empty as the stares of landed fish。
The man reached down into a snarl of blankets and at last clawed up a smoke…mask and a dirty； tattered shirt。 〃Here； take this…was Old Bent Leg's； but won't miss it where he be gone。 Look like everyone else； you will。〃
〃Is that good？〃 Simon was finding it hard to keep his overstuffed head working。 He was in the forge； it seemed。 But why？ Was this his only punishment for spying； to work in the castle's foundry？ It seemed surprisingly mild。
〃If you don't want to get worked to death；〃 the man said； then began coughing； long dry rasps that sounded as though they came all the way up from his feet。 It was some time before he could talk again。 〃If Doctor sees you be a new 'un；〃 he wheezed； 〃he'll get his work out of you； never fear。 And more。 A right bad 'un； he be。〃 The man said it very convincingly。 〃Don't want him noticing you。〃
Simon looked down at the soiled scraps of cloth。
〃Thank you。 What's your name？〃
〃Stanhelm。〃 The man coughed again； 〃And don't tell others you be new either； or they'll run to Doctor so fast your eyes'll pop out。 Tell 'em you worked with ore buckets。 Those'uns sleep in 'nother hole on t'other side； but White Foxes and soldiers dump all runaways back through this door； 'matter which side 'uns ran from。〃 He reflected sadly。 〃Few of us left and work to do。 That's why 'uns brought you back and didn't kill you。 What be your name； lad？〃
〃Seoman。〃 He looked around。 The other forge men had fallen back into unheeding silence。 Most had curled themselves up on their thin blankets and closed their eyes。 〃Who is this Doctor？〃 For a split instant the sound of the name had filled him with wild hope； but Morgenes； even if he had lived through the dreadful blaze； would never be someone to occasion fear in men like these。
〃You'll meet 'un soon enough；〃 Stanhelm said。 〃Don't be in no hurry。〃
Simon wrapped the strip of cloth about his face。 It smelled of smoke and dirt and other things； and did not seem very easy to breathe through。 He told Stanhelm so。
〃You keep it wet。 Thank Ransomer Himself you've got it； you will。 Otherwise； fire goes right down your throat and burns innards。〃 Stanhelm prodded the shirt with a blackened finger。 〃Put that on； too。〃 He looked nervously over his shoulder at his fellow forge workers。
Simon understood。 As soon as he pulled on the shirt； he would no longer be different…he would not draw attention。 These were bent； almost broken men； that was clear。 They did not want to be noticed if they could avoid it。
When his head poked free of the neck hole and he could see again； a looming shape was lurching toward him。 For an instant； Simon thought one of the snow…giants had somehow found its way south to the Hayholt。
The great head turned slowly from side to side。 The mask of ruined flesh wrinkled in anger。
'Too much sleeping； little rat…men；〃 the thing rumbled。 〃Work to do。 The priest wants everything finished now。〃
Simon thanked Usires for the tattered fabric that made him another faceless captive。 He knew this one…eyed monster。
Oh； Mother of Mercy。 They've given me to Inch。
19
Cunning as Time
〃Do you think Simon could be down here somewhere？〃
Binabik looked up from his dried mutton； which he had been tearing into small pieces。 It was the morning meal； if morning could be said to exist in a sunless； skyless place。 〃If he is；〃 the little man said； 〃I am thinking there is only a small chance we will find him。 I am sorry； Miriamele； but here there are many leagues of tunnels。〃
Simon wandering alone and in darkness。 The thought hurt too much…she had been so cruel to him！
Desperate to think of something else； she asked： 〃Did the Sithi really build all this？〃 The walls stretched high above； so that the torchlight failed before it found the upper reaches。 They were roofed over by purest black； but for the absence of stars and weather； she and the troll might be sitting beneath the open night sky。
〃With help they built it。 The Sithi were having the assisting of their cousins； I have read…in fact； they were the people who were making the maps you copied。 Other immortals； masters of stone and earth。 Eolair said some still are living beneath Hernystir。〃
〃But who could live down here？〃 she wondered。 〃Never seeing the day 。。。〃
〃Ah； you are not understanding。〃 The troll smiled。 〃Asu'a was full of light。 The castle you were living in had its building on the top of the Sithi's great house。 Asu'a was buried so that the Hayholt could be born。〃
〃But it won't stay buried；〃 Miriamele said grimly。
Binabik nodded。 〃We Qanuc have a believing that the spirit of a murdered man cannot rest； and stays on in the body of an animal。 Sometimes it is following the one who killed him； sometimes it is staying in the place he was loving most。 Either way； there is no rest for it until the truth has been discovered and the crime has been given its punishment。〃
Miriamele thought of the spirits of all the murdered Sithi and shivered。 She had heard more than a few strange echoes since they had entered the tunnels beneath Saint Sutrin's。 〃They can't rest。〃
Binabik cocked an eyebrow。 'There is more here than just restless spirits； Miriamele。〃
〃Yes； but that's what the。。。〃 she lowered her voice 〃。。。 that's what the Storm King is； isn't he？ A murdered soul looking for vengeance。〃
The troll looked troubled。 〃I am not happy to be talking of such things here。 And he brought his own death upon him； I am remembering。〃
〃Because the Rimmersmen had surrounded this place and were going to kil