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〃I cannot say； 'it is such and such a place；' no。 But it is somewhere near。 Somewhere within a few thousand paces。〃
So it was either in the castle or the under…castle； Miriamele decided。 That didn't help much； but at least her father had not had it thrown in the ocean or carried off to Nascadu。 〃Did you e here because you knew the swords were here？〃
〃No。 We were fleeing other things； routed from our city in the north。 We knew already that two of the swords were here； but that meant little to us at that time： we fled away through our tunnels and they led us here。 It was only as we drew close to Asu'a that we came to understand that other forces were also at work。〃
〃And so now you're caught between the two and don't know which way to run。〃 She said it with more than a little disapproval； but knew even so that what the dwarrows faced was much like her own situation。 She； too； was driven by things bigger than herself。 She had fled her father； trying to put the entire world between the two of them。 Now she had risked her life and the lives of her friends to e back and find him； but feared what might happen if she succeeded。 Miriamele pushed the useless thoughts away。 〃Forgive me； Yis…fidri。 I'm tired of sitting for so long； that's all。〃
It had been good to rest the first day； despite her anger over her imprisonment； but now she was aching to be on her way； to move； to do something； whatever that might be。 Otherwise； she was trapped with her thoughts。 They made painful pany。
〃We are truly sorry； Miriamele。 You may walk as much as you wish here。 We have tried to give you all that you need。〃
It was fortunate for them that she had the packs that held the remaining provisions； she reflected。 If she had been forced to subsist on the dwarrows' food…fungi and small； unpleasant burrowing creatures…she would be a much less congenial prisoner。 〃You cannot give me what I need as long as I am held captive；〃 she said。 〃Nothing can change that； no matter what you say。〃
〃It is too perilous。〃
Miriamele bit back an angry reply。 She had already tried that approach。 She needed to think。
Yis…hadra scraped at a bit of the cavern wall with a curved； flat…ended tool。 Miriamele could not quite tell what Yis…fidri's wife was doing； but she seemed to be enjoying it： the dwarrow was singing quietly beneath her breath。 The more Miriamele listened； the more the song fascinated her。 It was scarcely louder than a whisper； but it had something in it of the power and plexity of Gan Itai's kilpa…singing。 Yis…hadra sang in rhythm with the movement of her long； graceful hands。 Music and movement together made one singular thing。 Miriamele sat beside her for some time； transfixed。
〃Are you building something？〃 she asked during a lull in the song。
The dwarrow looked up。 A smile stretched her odd face。 〃This s'h'rosa here…this piece of stone that runs through the other stone 。。。〃 she indicated a darker streak； barely visible in the glow of the rose crystal。 〃It wishes to 。。。 e out。 To be seen。〃
Miriamele shook her head。 〃It wishes to be seen？〃
Yis…hadra pursed her wide mouth thoughtfully。 〃I do not have your tongue well。 It 。。。 needs？ Needs to e out？〃
Like gardeners； Miriamele thought bemusedly。 Tending the stone。
Aloud； she said： 〃Do you carve things？ All the ruins of Asu'a I've seen are covered with beautiful carvings。 Did the dwarrows do that？〃
Tis…hadra made an indecipherable gesture with curled fingers。 〃We prepared some of the walls； then the Zida'ya created pictures there。 But in other places； we gave care to the stone ourselves； helping it。。。 bee。 When Asu'a was built； Zida'ya and Tinukeda'ya still worked side by side。〃 Her tone was mournful。 〃Together we made wonderful things。〃
〃Yes。 I saw some of them。〃 She looked around。 〃Where is Yis…fidri？ I need to talk to him。〃
Yis…hadra appeared embarrassed。 〃Is it I have said something bad？ I cannot speak your tongue as I can the tongue of the mortals of Hernystir。 Yis…fidri speaks more well than I。〃
〃No。〃 Miriamele smiled。 〃Nothing bad at all。 But he and I were talking about something； and I want to talk to him more。〃
〃Ah。 He will e back in a little time。 He has left this place。〃
〃Then I'll just watch you work； if you don't mind。〃
Yis…hadra returned the smile。 〃No。 I will tell you something about the stone； if you like。 Stones have stories。 We know the stories。 Sometimes I think we know their stories better than our own。〃
Miriamele sat down with her back against the wall。 Yis…hadra continued with her task； and as she did so； she talked。 Miriamele had never thought much about rocks and stone； but as she listened to the dwarrow's low； musical voice； she saw for the first time that they were in a way living things； like plants and animals…or at least they were to Yis…hadra's kind。 The stones moved； but that movement took eons。 They changed； but no living thing； not even the Sithi； walked alive beneath the sky long enough to see that change。 The dwarrow…folk studied and cultivated； and even in a way loved； the bones of the earth。 They admired the beauty of glittering gems and shining metals； but they also valued the layered patience of sandstone and the boldness of volcanic glass。 Every one of them had its own tale； but it took a certain kind of vision and wisdom to understand the slow stories that stones told。 Yis…fidri's wife； with her huge eyes and careful fingers； knew them well。 Miriamele found herself oddly touched by this strange creature； and for a while； listening to Yis…hadra's slow； joyful speech； she forgot even her own unhappiness。
Tiamak felt a hand close around his arm。
〃Is that you？〃 Father Strangyeard's voice sounded querulous。
〃It is me。〃
〃We shouldn't either of us be out on deck；〃 the archivist said。 〃Sludig will be angry。〃
〃Sludig would be right；〃 Tiamak said。 〃The kilpa are all around us。〃 But still he did not move。 The closed quarters of the ship's cabin had been making it hard to think； and the ideas that were moving at the edge of his mind seemed too important to lose just because of a fear of the sea…creatures…however worthy of fear they might be。
〃My sight is not good；〃 Strangyeard said； peering worriedly into the darkness。 He held his hand beside his good eye to shield against the strong winds。 〃I should probably not be walking the deck at night。 But I was 。。。 worried for you； you were gone so long。〃
〃I know。〃 Tiamak patted the older man's hand where it lay on the weathered rail。 〃I am thinking about the things I told you earlier…the idea I had when Camaris fought Benigaris。〃 He stopped； noticing for the first time the ship's odd movement。 〃Are we anchored？〃 he asked at last。
〃We are。 The Hayefur is not lit at Wentmouth； and Josua feared to e too close to the rocks in darkness。 He sent word with the signal…lamp。〃 The archivist shivered。 〃It makes it worse； though； having to sit still。 Those nasty gray things 。。。〃
〃Then let us go down。 I think the rains are returning； in any case。〃 Tiamak turned from the rail。 〃We will warm some of your wine…a drylander custom I have e to appreciate…and think more about the swords。〃 He took the priest's elbow and led him toward the cabin door。
〃Surely this is better；〃 Strangyeard said。 He braced himself against the wall as the ship dipped into a trough between the waves； then handed the sloshing cup to the Wrannaman。 〃I had better cover the coals。 It would be terrible if the brazier tipped over。 Goodness！ I hope everyone else is being careful； too。〃
〃I think Sludig is allowing few others to have braziers； or even lanterns； except on deck。〃 Tiamak took a sip of the wine and smacked his lips。 〃Ah。 Good。 No； we are the privileged ones because we have things to read and time is short。〃
The archivist lowered himself to the pallet on the floor； pitching gently with the motion of the ship。 〃So I suppose we should be back at our work again。〃 He drank from his own cup。 〃Forgive me； Tiamak； but does it not seem futile to you sometimes？ Hanging all our hopes on three swords； two of which are not even ours？〃 He stared into his wine。
〃I came late to these matters； in a way。〃 Tiamak made himself fortable。 The rocking of the ship； however pronounced； was not that different from the way the wind rattled his house in the banyan tree。 〃If you had asked me a year ago what chance there was that I would be aboard a boat sailing for Erkynland to conquer the High King…that I would be a Scrollbearer； that I would have seen Camaris reborn； been captured by the ghants； saved by the Duke of Elvritshalla and the High King's daughter 。。。〃 He waved his hand。 〃You see what I am saying。 Everything that has happened to us is madness； but when we look back； it all seems to have followed logically from one moment to the next。 Perhaps someday capturing and using the swords will seem just as clear in its sense。〃
〃That is a nice thought。〃 Strangyeard sighed and pushed his eyepatch； which had shifted slightly； back into place。 〃I like things better when they have already happened。 Books may differ； one from the other； but at least most every book claims to know the truth and set it out clearly。〃
〃Someday we will perhaps be in someone else's book；〃 Tiamak offered； smiling； 〃and whoever writes it will be very certain about how everything came to pass。 But we do not have that luxury now。〃 He leaned forward。 〃Now where is the part of the doctor's manuscript that tells of the forging of Sorrow？〃
〃Here； I think。〃 Strangyeard shuffled through one of the many piles of parchment scattered about the room。 〃Yes； here。〃 He lifted it to the light； squinting。 〃Shall I read something to you？〃
Tiamak held out his hand。 He had an immense fondness for the Archive Master； a closeness he had not felt to anyone since old Doctor Morgenes。 〃No；〃 he said gently； 〃let me read。 Let us not put your poor eyes to any more work tonight。〃
Strangyeard mumbled something and gave him the sheaf of parchment。
〃It is this bit about the Words of Making that sticks in my head；〃 Tiamak said。 〃Is it possible that all these swords were made with these same powerful Words？〃
〃But why would you think so？〃 Strangyeard asked。 His face became intent。 〃Nisses' book； at least as Morgenes quotes it； does not seem to say that。 All the swords came from different places； and one was forged by mortals。〃
〃There must be something that links them all together；〃 Tiamak replied； 〃and I can think of nothing else。 Why else should possessing them all give us such power？〃 He shuffled through the parchments。 〃Great magic went into their forging。 It must be this magic that will bring us power over the Storm King！〃
As he spoke； the song of a Niskie rose outside； piercing the mournful sound of the winds。 The melody throbbed with wild power； an alien sound even more disturbing than the distant rumble of thunder。
〃If only there were someone who knew of the swords' forging；〃 Tiamak murmured in frustration； his eyes stared at Morgenes' precise； ornate characters； but did not really see them。 The Niskie song rose higher； then vibrated and fell away on a note of keening loss。 〃If only we could speak to the dwarrows who made Minneyar…but Eolair says they were far to the north； many leagues beyond the Hayholt。 And the Nabbanai smiths who forged Thorn are centuries dead。〃 He frowned。 〃So many questions we have； and still so few answers。 This is tiring； Strangyeard。 It seems that every step forward takes us two paces back into confusion。〃
The archivist was silent while Tiamak looked for the well…thumbed pages that described Ineluki creating Sorrow in the forges below Asu'a。 〃Here it is；〃 he said at last。 〃I will read。〃
〃Just a moment；〃 said Strangyeard。 〃Perhaps the answer to one is the answer to both。〃
Tiamak looked up。 〃What do you mean？〃 He dragged his thoughts away from the page before him。
〃Your other idea was that somehow we have been purposely kept in confusion…that the Storm King has played Elias and Josua off against each other while he pursued some goal of his own。〃
〃Yes？〃
〃Perhaps it is not just some secret goal he has that he wishes to conceal。 Perhaps he also tr