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it was indeed going to be a plicated dance。 This was clearly something Streawe enjoyed too much to do quickly； and something Josua took too seriously to be rushed through。 Isgrimnur turned to look at Camaris； who had been silent during the whole discussion。 The old knight was staring at the shuttered windows as if they were an intricately absorbing picture； his chin resting on his hand。 Isgrimnur made another noise of pain and reached for his beer。 He sensed a long evening ahead。
Miriamele's fear of the dwarrows was dwindling。 She was beginning to remember what Simon and others had told her of Count Eolair's journey to Sesuad'ra。 The count had met dwarrows…he called them domhaini…in the mines below Hernystir's mountains。 He had called them friendly and peaceful； and that seemed to be true： except for snatching her from the stairs； they had not harmed her。 But they still would not let her go。
〃Here。〃 She gestured to the saddlebags。 〃If you are so certain that something I am carrying is harmful； or dangerous； or 。。。 or whatever； search for yourselves。〃
As the dwarrows conferred in anxious； chiming voices； Miriamele considered escape。 She wondered if dwarrows ever slept。 But where had they brought her？ How could she find her way out； and where would she go then？ At least she still had the maps； although she doubted she could read them as efficiently as Binabik had。
Where was Binabik？ Was he alive？ She felt almost ill as she remembered the grinning thing that had attacked the troll。 Another friend was lost somewhere in the shadows。 The little man had been right…this had been a foolish journey。 Her own stubbornness had perhaps brought death to her two closest friends。 How could she live with that knowledge？
By the time the dwarrows had finished their discussion； Miriamele did not much care what they had decided。 Gloom had settled on her； sapping her strength。
〃We will search among your possessions； by your leave；〃 Yis…fidri said。 〃In respect of your customs； my wife Yis…hadra only will touch them。〃
Miriamele was bemused by the dwarrow's circumspection。 What did they think she had brought down into the earth； the dainty small…clothes of a castle…dwelling princess？ Tiny； fragile keepsakes？ Scented notes from admirers？
Yls…hadra approached timidly and began to examine the contents of the saddlebags。 Her husband came and kneeled beside Miriamele。 〃We are sorely grieved that things should be thus。 It is truly not our way…never have we pressed our will by force on another。 Never。〃 He seemed desperate to convince her。
〃I still do not understand the danger you fear。〃
〃It was the place you and your two panions walked。 It is 。。。 it is…there are no words that I know in mortal tongues to explain。〃 He flexed his long fingers。 〃There are 。。。 powers； things which have been sleeping。 Now they awaken。 The tower stairwell in which you climbed is a place where these forces are strong。 Every day they bee stronger。 We do not yet understand what is happening； but until we do； nothing must happen which might upset the balance。。。。〃
Miriamele waved for him to stop。 〃Slowly； Yis…fidri。 I am trying to understand。 First of all； that。。。 thing that attacked us on the stairs was not a panion of ours。 Binabik seemed to recognize him； but I have never seen him before。〃
Yis…fidri shook his head； agitated。 〃No； no； Miriamele。 Be not insulted。 We know that what your friend fought was no panion…it was a walking hollowness full of Unbeing。 Perhaps it was a mortal man once。 No； I meant that panion who followed a little behind you。〃
〃Behind us？ There were only two of us。 Unless 。。。〃 Her heart skipped。 Could it have been Simon； searching for his friends？ Had he only been a short distance away when she had been taken？ No； that would be too cruel！
〃Then you were followed；〃 Yis…fidri said firmly。 〃For good or ill； we cannot say。 We just know that three mortals were upon the stairs。〃
Miriamele shook her head； unable to think about it。 Too much confusion was piled atop too much sorrow。
Yis…hadra made a birdlike sound。 Her husband turned。 The she…dwarrow held up Simon's White Arrow。
〃Of course；〃 Yis…fidri breathed。 The other dwarrows leaned closer； watching raptly。 〃We felt it； but knew it not。〃 He turned to Miriamele。 〃It is not our work or we would know it as verily as you know your own hand at the end of your arm。 But it was made by Vindaomeyo； one of the Zida'ya to whom we taught our skills and craft。 And see；〃 he reached to take it from his wife； 〃here is a piece of one of the Master Witnesses。〃 He pointed to the cloudy blue…gray arrowhead。 〃No surprise that we felt it。〃
〃And carrying it on the stairwell was a danger somehow？〃 Miriamele wanted to understand； but terror had battered her for a long time； and weariness was now pulling at her like an undertow。 〃How could that be？〃
〃We will explain if we can。 Things are changing。 Balances are delicate。 The red stone in the sky speaks to the stones of the earth； and we Tinukeda'ya hear the voices of those stones。〃
〃And these stones tell you to snatch people off the staircase？〃 She was exhausted。 It was hard not to be rude。
〃We did not wish to e here；〃 Yis…fidri said gravely。 〃Things that happened in our home and elsewhere drove us ever southward； but when we reached this place through the old tunnels； we realized that the menace here is even greater。 We cannot go forward； we cannot go back。 But we must understand what is happening so that we can decide how best to escape it。〃
〃You're going to run away？〃 Miriamele asked。 〃That's why you're doing all these things？ To give yourself a chance to run away？〃
〃We are not warriors。 We are not our once…masters； the Zida'ya。 The way of the Ocean Children has always been
to make do； to survive。〃
Miriamele shook her head in frustration。 They had trapped her and torn her away from her friend； but only so they could escape something she did not understand。 〃Let me go。〃
〃We cannot； Miriamele。 We are sorry。〃
〃Then let me go to sleep。〃 She crawled away toward the wall of the cavern and curled herself in her cloak。 The dwarrows did not hinder her； but began talking among themselves again。 The sound of their voices； melodious and inprehensible as cricket calls； followed her down into sleep。
22
A Sleeping Dragon
Only please； God； don't let him be gone！
The wheel carried Simon upward。 If Guthwulf still spoke in the darkness below； Simon could not hear him above the creak of the wheel and the clanking of the heavy chains。
Guthwulf！ Could it be the same man Simon had so often glimpsed； the High King's Hand with his fierce face？ But he had led the siege against Naglimund； had been one of King Elias' most powerful friends。 What would he be doing here？ It must be someone else。 Still； whoever he was； at least he had a human voice。
〃Can you hear me？〃 Simon croaked as the wheel brought him down again。 Blood； regular as the tide at evening； was rushing into his head once more。
〃Yes；〃 Guthwulf hissed。 〃Don't speak so loudly。 I have heard others here； and I think they would hurt me。 They would take away all I have left。〃
Simon could see him； a dim； bent figure…but large； as the King's Hand had been； broad shoulders evident despite his stoop。 He held his head in an odd way； as though it hurt him。
〃Can I have 。。。 more water？〃
Guthwulf dipped his hands into the sluice beneath the wheel； as Simon swung low enough to reach； he poured the water over the prisoner's face。 Simon gasped and begged for more。 Guthwulf filled his palms three more times before Simon rose out of reach。 〃You are on 。。。 on a wheel？〃 the man said； as though he could not quite believe it。
His thirst quenched for the first time in days； Simon wondered at the question。 Was he simple…minded？ How could anyone who wasn't blind doubt it was a wheel？
Suddenly Guthwulf's odd way of holding his head made sense。 Blind。 Of course。 No wonder he had felt at Simon's face。
〃Are you 。。 。 Earl Guthwulf？〃 Simon asked as the wheel headed downward again。 〃The Earl of Utanyeat？〃 Remembering what his benefactor had said； he kept his voice low。 He had to repeat the question when he was nearer。
〃I 。。。 think I was。〃 The earl's hands hung limply； drip… ping。 〃In another life。 Before my eyes were gone。 Before the sword took me。。。〃
The sword？ Had he been blinded in battle？ In a duel？ Simon dismissed the thought： there were more important things to think about。 His belly was full of water； but nothing else。 〃Can you bring me food？ No； can you free me？ Please！？ They are tormenting me； torturing me！〃 So many words rasped his tender throat and he broke into a fit of coughing。
〃Free you。。。 ？〃 Guthwulf sounded distinctly shaken。 〃But。。。 you do not wish to be here？ I'm sorry； things are。。。 so different。 I have trouble remembering。〃
He's a madman。 The only person who might help me； and he's mad！
Aloud； he said： 〃Please。 I am suffering。 If you don't help me； I'll die here。〃 A sob choked him。 Talking about it suddenly made it real。 〃I don't want to die！〃
The wheel began to carry him up again。
〃I 。。。 could not。 The voices will not let me do anything；〃 Guthwulf whispered。 'They tell me that I must go and hide； or someone will take everything I have from me。〃 His voice took on a horribly wistfiil tone。 〃But I could hear you there； making noises； breathing。 I knew you were a real thing； and I wanted to hear your voice。 I have not spoken to anyone for so long。〃 His words grew faint as the wheel took Simon away。 〃Are you the one who left me food？〃
Simon had no idea what the blind man was talking about； but heard him hesitating； troubled by Simon's pain。 〃I did！〃 He tried to be heard above the wheel without shouting。 Was the man out of hearing？ 〃I did！ I brought you food！〃
Please let him be there when I get back； Simon prayed。 Please let him be there。 Please。
As Simon neared the bottom again； Guthwulf reached out his hand once more and let it trail across Simon's features。 〃You fed me。 I do not know。 I am afraid。 They will take everything from me。 The voices are so loud！〃 He shook his shaggy head。 〃I cannot think now。 The voices are very loud。〃 Abruptly； he turned and lurched away across the cavern and vanished into the shadows。
〃Guthwulf！〃 Simon cried。 〃Don't leave me！〃
But the blind man was gone。
The touch of a human hand； the sound of a voice； had awakened Simon to his terrible pain once more。 The passing hours or days or weeks…he had long since given up trying to mark time…had begun to smear into a gradually increasing nothingness； he had been floating in fog； drifting slowly away from the lights of home。 Now he was back again； and suffering。
The wheel turned。 Sometimes； when all the forge chamber's torches were lit； he saw masked； soot…blackened men hustling past him； but none ever spoke to him。 Inch's helpers brought him water with excruciating infrequency； and did not waste words on him when they did。 On a few occasions he even saw the huge overseer standing silently； watching as the wheel bore Simon around。 Strangely； Inch did not seem interested in gloating： he came only to inspect Simon's misery； as a house…holder might pause to mark the progress of his vegetable garden while on the way to some other duty。
The pain in Simon's limbs and belly was so constant that he could not remember what it was like to feel any other way。 It rolled through him as though his body were only a sack to contain it…a sack being tossed from hand to hand by careless laborers。 With each rotation of the wheel； the pain rushed to Simon's head until it seemed his skull would burst； then pushed through his empty； aching guts to lodge in his feet once more； so that it seemed he stood on blazing coals。
Neither did the hunger go away。 It was a gentler panion than the agony of his limbs； but still a dull and unceasing hurt。 He could feel himself being less with every revolution…less human； less alive； less interested into holding onto whatever made him Simon。 Only a dim flame of vengefulness； and an even dimmer spark of hope that someday he might e home