Table of Contents
 	 Title Page
 	 Copyright Page
 Dedication

 	Â 
 	CHAPTER 1
 	CHAPTER 2
 	CHAPTER 3
 	CHAPTER 4
 	CHAPTER 5
 	CHAPTER 6
 	CHAPTER 7
 	CHAPTER 8
 	CHAPTER 9
 	CHAPTER 10
 	CHAPTER 11
 	CHAPTER 12
 	CHAPTER 13
 	CHAPTER 14
 	CHAPTER 15
 	CHAPTER 16
 	CHAPTER 17
 	CHAPTER 18
 CHAPTER 19

 TREACHERY

 	Randolph took his place behind the Kingâ€™s chair. The King had already proposed one toast, which Ted had missed. He drank some wine anyway, and grimaced. It made his tongue fur up. Wel , they had decided that it must be strong enough to disguise the taste of the poison. 
 	People were beginning to relax a little. Matthew stood up and flourished his goblet at them. The red wine and the blue glass caught the candlelight and sent it reeling around the room in sparks of purple. 
 	â€œMy lords,â€ said Matthew, â€œto the King. Both glory and length of days.â€​par 	Everybody echoed him, and drank. Ted looked over the smiling Kingâ€™s shoulder at Randolph, and froze. 
 	Randolph looked as if he were going to throw up. 
 	King Wil iam shook his head and put down his goblet with a thud. 
 	â€œMy lord?â€​aid Matthew into the hush. 
 	Ted got up, words from the warning labels on al the bottles of poisonous things he had ever seen going around in his head. 
 	King Wil iam put both hands to his throat, and in the hideous light of the candles his staring and contorted face looked like a gargoyleâ€™s. . . . 

 	FIREBIRD WHERE FANTASY TAKES
 	FLIGHTâ„¢

 	  

 	FIREBIRD 
 	Published by Penguin Group 
 	Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. 
 	Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia 
 	Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2 
 	Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand 
 	First published in the United States of America by Ace Fantasy Books, The Berkley Publishing Group, 1986 
 	Published by Firebird, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2003 
 	Copyright Â©c) Pamela Dyer-Bennet, 1986
 	All rights reserved
 	eISBN : 978-1-440-68443-2
 	http://us.penguingroup.com
 	
 	 To David Dyer-Bennet,  
 	 kindest of project managers
 	
 CHAPTER 1

 	SUMMER swept on, faster, as it always did, than you expected. Ted, climbing the stairs of the West Tower on a blazing day in mid-August, wished that he had only the beginning of school to dread. It irked him how wel the others had settled in. You would think they had lived in a castle al their lives, instead of in Pennsylvania. You would never think that their own elegant, symmetrical game, played over and over again every summer for nine years, had suddenly taken on a life of its own, flinging them into a country they had invented but that stubbornly refused to conform to their expectations and that, just as they were finding their feet, presented them with people they had never inventedâ€”like that weasel, Lady Claudiaâ€”and scenes they had never playedâ€”like that unexpected and awful moment in which Patrick broke the Crystal of Earth. You would certainly think that al of them might very soon be made to do in earnest the kinds of deeds that sound appealing only to the mindâ€™s ear. 
 	Ruth was almost impossible to find; she was devouring the magic of the Green Caves as she had once devoured mystery novels, that summer three years ago when she declared that she was sick of fantasies. You would never guess that she had been obliged to change her outward behavior from that of a gentle, poetic person who had not only never hit anybody in her life but actual y believed one ought not to hit people, into that of an irritable and haughty sorcerer from whose uncertain temper al the servants fled. 
 	You would never guess sheâ€™d never seen a servant until three months ago, either. And she had hit Patrick when he broke that Crystal. 
 	Patrick himself had acquired a sort of smug silence which displayed itself during any discussion of what they were going to do, but especial y in talk of how they were to get hold of the swords of Shan and Melanie. Never mind that he was a materialist and didnâ€™t believe in magic swords. 
 	Somebody 
 	whose 
 	authority 
 	he 
 	did 
 	not
 	recognizeâ€”somebody, that is, who was neither a parent nor a scientistâ€”had taken the swords away from him, and therefore he meant to have them back. That the swords were the only way any of them knew to return to their prosaic lives seemed to trouble him less than the assault on his dignity. 
 	El en appeared to be having the time of her life. This was perhaps the most irritating thing of al , it was so normal: Ellen always had the time of her life. In their game she had played princesses and pages and messengers and talking animals; now she must play a princess al the time, and although she occasional y said this was boring, nobody who had been al owed to tame a unicorn not two months ago should expect to be believed when she said things like that. 
 	She probably only said them because she thought princesses ought to be bored. 
 	So much for Tedâ€™s cousins. His little sister was both more and less annoying than they were. Laura was not studying magic, like Ruth; nor plotting against High Castleâ€™s resident wizard and its chief counselor, like Patrick; nor being lavishly rewarded for her native spunk even if it didnâ€™t accord with that of the character she should have been playing, like El en. She was keeping out of the way and trying not to break things. Breaking things was her special talent: since the Princess Laura, her character in the game and the person she was now obliged to imitate, had had a great deal of grace and charm, Laura was probably unhappier than anybody except Ted. His misery liked the company; but Lauraâ€™s being unhappy was normal enough to be irritating, too. 
 	Ted wondered if she had seen any visions in torches or candles or peopleâ€™s bracelets recently. That wasnâ€™t normal for Laura, certainly; but when it happened to her, she reacted to it in about the same way she had when the first-grade teacher told their mother Laura had a very high I.Q.: she was dismayed, and she refused to do anything about it. 
 	He should probably ask her. Not that anything she had seen so far had been much help. And that was like Laura; if she must have mystical visions, they would be of no use whatsoever. 
 	Ted panted up the last steps and yanked at the door of the Garment Room. It was locked. 
 	â€œWil you kindly open?â€​e said. 
 	His tone was not polite, but the doors in High Castle seemed to hear only words. The door swung wide, and he went into the scent of cloves and dust. From seven of the West Towerâ€™s nine narrow windows came a thin blue light; from one only the shadow of the East Tower; and from the last a line of pinkish sunlight that had found its way between the East Tower of this inner castle and the nameless towers of one of the outer wal s. The sunlight was pinkish because every other wal of High Castleâ€™s concentric five was made of violent pink marble. Ted had found this harder to get used to than the presence of Claudia, the appearance of Andrew, or even the harsh temper of Benjamin. 
 	
 	He picked his way among the piles of clothing. He had come to find his costume for the feast at which, in accordance with their game, Lord Randolph would poison the King, unless somebody did something. Rummaging and sneezing, he wished they had chosen some other occasion for the murder. The feasts had been the beginning of the Secret, before Laura and El en were old enough to play. He and Ruth and Patrick, whenever parents were going to be absent from a meal, used to dress themselves up as kings and courtiers and have their food in the barn. He had for his memories of such times a kindly feeling that he was quite sure would not survive an attempt, even an unsuccessful one, to poison the King. 
 	He was as bad as his sister and cousins, caught between his own somewhat rash character and the meek and bookish one of Prince Edward, who everyone thought him to be. Ted, if he had been free to be Ted, would not have come obediently up here to choose his gown knowing that Randolph might kil the King and that, if he did, Ted would have to kil Randolph. Edward, not knowing these things, would not have worried and fretted as he obediently chose. 
 	An orange velvet cloak ripped as Ted pul ed apart its folds without noticing the brooch holding them together. 
 	â€œShan can turn you into a toad!â€ he said to the brooch. He had heard Agatha, the royal childrenâ€™s nurse, say this to a cat that had gotten into her sewing, and it had a better sound, in this gray castle room, than â€œGod damn it!â€​par 	Agatha being no sorcerer, the cat in question had not turned into a toad. Ted being even less a magician than she, the brooch remained a brooch also. It had caught in the bandage on his left hand. Ted worked it free thoughtful y. 
 	
 	The cut from Melanieâ€™s sword was not swol en or inflamed, and it never bothered him unless he knocked the palm of his hand against something, but it was remarkably slow in healing. If he had real y been left-handed, it would have given him trouble. But it was Prince Edward who was left-handed. The cut was extremely convenient for Ted, since it gave him an excuse to use his right hand. 
 	It was true that Agatha had looked grave over the cut, and cal ed Benjamin, the Royal Groom who was more than he seemed, to examine it. But Benjamin said that it was no more than Edward deserved for playing with enchanted weapons, whereupon Agatha looked at him sharply and shut her mouth, and Ted wished he had noticed how long it took Lauraâ€™s knee to heal. Lauraâ€™s knee had started this whole business: if she had not tripped and fal en on Shanâ€™s sword where it lay peaceful y concealed under a hedge, they would not be here now. 
 	Ted went on burrowing. It was a pity that they could not just play in the Secret Country. One of their old feasts would have been greatly enhanced by the costumes and food they could have wangled. He shook out a stiffly embroidered dress, thinking how much Ruth would have liked it if they had found it in her fatherâ€™s attic. He might have liked it himself. But he was getting tired of gorgeous colors and decoration and jewels and feathers. He flung aside piles of green, gold, blue, scarlet; and came to a gray bundle. He unfolded it careful y. It, too, was fastened with a brooch, a twisted silver one with blue stones. 
 	â€œNot again,â€ said Ted, unfastening it. The magicians of Fenceâ€™s party, who probably could turn cats into toads if they could stop laughing at the suggestion long enough to say the spel , wore silver ornaments with blue stones. This one made Tedâ€™s hand prickle, very faintly: it was enchanted. He put it into his pocket so that it would not be lost in the confusion. He unfolded the gray bundle, and stood up, and shook it out. 
 	It was a plain robe with no trimming, not even a hood, and it was less voluminous than anything else in the room. It would not have done for the old make-believe feasts, but it suited Ted perfectly for the real one. He fingered the material, which was thin, dul , and soft. It was too soft for cotton, too sturdy for silk. 
 	Ted gathered it up. He was not entitled to wear its brooch, not being a sorcerer. He would have to find another. 
 	â€œMaybe a nice iron pin,â€ he said, and dragged the garment with him over to the trunks that sat against the wal . 
 	It seemed reasonable that they would be ful of jewelry. 
 	The first one was ful of flutes. The second one was ful of what he took to be drumsticks; the third held some very tarnished horns; and the fourth a hideous mass of strings. 
 	He had just flung up the lid of the fifth when he heard footsteps on the stone stairs. As they came closer, he also heard whistling. The words to the song came up from the bottom of his mind as the names of the fencing moves, when he had his lessons with Randolph, and flowers, when he went on the Unicorn Hunt, had done. 
 	Â 
 	 The minstrel boy to the wars has gone; In the ranks of death you will find him.  
 	 His fatherâ€™s sword he has girded on, And the great harp slung behind him.  
 	 â€œLand of old,â€​ried the warrior boy, â€™Though none beside attend thee,  
 	
 	 Still one great harp shall sing thy praise And one strong sword defend thee. 
 	Â 
 	Ted shivered, and Lord Randolph came into the room. He stopped just inside the doorway, looking at Ted. He had a smile that could stop quarreling counselors in the midst of their most cherished imprecations, but he was not using it now. 
 	â€œGive you good morning,â€ he said, on an inquiring note. 
 	â€œAnd you,â€ said Ted. He barely had breath to say it. 
 	Here, dropped into his lap like a late birthday present, was a last chance to talk Randolph out of his plot. 
 	Randolph strode across the room and sat down on the trunk that held the flutes. â€œWhat are you at, then?â€ he asked. 
 	â€œIâ€™m choosing my costume for the feast,â€ said Ted. A colder sweat than that generated by the August day and the close tower room was forming on his hands and creeping down his back. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve come to do the same,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted swal owed. â€œI had thought that done already,â€ he said. 
 	Randolph looked at him, not sharply, but as if asking him to go on. There was a stil ness, a calmness, an immovable quality about him which was not usual, and which made Ted doubt that anything could make him change his mind. 
 	Ted swal owed again. â€œOr is it only the mood youâ€™ve chosen?â€​par 	
 	Randolphâ€™s eyebrows went up. â€œThat the feast chooseth,â€ he said, slowly. â€œI need only choose a color.â€​par 	Ted wished, not for the first time, that he had paid more attention to the trappings of the Secret Country. Colors had definite meaning here. He pushed his hair off his forehead; it needed cutting in another world, but was becoming about right here. Black was death, blue was one sort of sorcery, green another, red another; yel ow was sickness, white was health, gold was faithfulness, purple was kingliness, but violet was purity. Ted saw the robe he stil held. Silver was treachery. He looked up at Randolph, and held out the robe to him. 
 	Randolph had been a little flushed from his climb. But now he turned dark red, and stood up. Ted expected him to put a hand to his dagger. But he thrust out his hand, the fingers stiffly spread, the back toward Ted, so that the blue stone in his ring caught the stray beam of sunlight and turned malevolent. The dim air of the room lightened, and here and there among the scattered clothes other gleams and glimmers answered Randolphâ€™s ring. 
 	Ted blinked. He was too frightened to do anything except what he already meant to do. He shook the robe out as if he were an obnoxious salesman in a clothing store. It real y was a fine color; why had they chosen it for treachery? 
 	â€œIs this not becoming to thee, my lord?â€​e said. 
 	Randolph closed his eyes and dropped his hand. 
 	â€œMy complexion likes it not,â€ he said. He sounded deadly tired, but there was a glint of mischief in his tone as wel . 
 	â€œBut does your mind like it?â€ cried Ted, shaking it at him. The sudden relief had left him furious. 
 	Randolph looked straight at him, with a gaze so fierce that Ted wanted to turn away and so compel ing that he could not. 
 	â€œNay,â€ said Randolph, slowly, â€œnay. It likes not my mind neither.â€​par 	Ted felt outmaneuvered. There was certainly a word that meant precisely the part of Randolph the robe did suit, the part of him that intended to poison the King no matter how little the rest of him liked it. 
 	â€œHas Fence spoken to you?â€​ed said suddenly. 
 	â€œOften,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œHas he spoken of this?â€ demanded Ted, waving the gray robe again. 
 	â€œOf a certainty he has not,â€​aid Randolph, sharply. 
 	â€œWel , Iâ€™ve spoken to him about it!â€​ried Ted. 
 	â€œThy speaking perhaps lacked an edge?â€​par 	â€œI guess so,â€​aid Ted, closing the trunk ful of strings and sitting down on it. He knew so. Fence had asked him if he were mad. But Fence had promised to watch Randolph. 
 	He must not have watched closely enough. 
 	â€œWere I what you ween I am,â€ said Randolph, â€œmore than thy tongue should have an edge were thou to hinder me.â€​par 	â€œIs that why you never practice fencing with us anymore?â€ said Ted. This blessing had been too welcome to be seriously questioned. Prince Edward had been learning fencing for three years, but Ted had never held a sword until he came to this country. Sooner or later, the lessons with Randolph would have betrayed him. 
 	â€œI have many cares,â€​aid Randolph, â€œand Fence needs me also.â€​par 	He sounded perfectly sincere. He must think that not practicing with Ted and Patrick was a serious lapse. Wel , and it was, thought Ted, if they were going to fight a battle in the fal . Something struck him for the first time. 
 	â€œIf we fight the right way, we wonâ€™t need fencing, wil we?â€​e asked. 
 	Randolphâ€™s eyebrows rose. â€œWhat flummery is this?â€​par 	â€œNow look,â€ said Ted. â€œEverybody is always arguing whether we need soldiers or sorcerers, and nobody lets me read King Johnâ€™s Book.â€​par 	Randolph looked as if this were almost too much for him. 
 	Ted watched him discard several expostulations and settle for simplicity. â€œThe Dragon King,â€ he said between his teeth, â€œhath both an arcane and a mundane army and either is deadly to us. Al else aside, no sorcerer may doâ€™s work beset with even the most mundane of soldiers. Dost understand, or art as wil ful as thy brother?â€​par 	â€œI hope not,â€ said Ted, almost to himself. His brother was in fact his cousin Patrick, the most wil ful of a wil ful family. Randolph actual y smiled. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re getting offâ€”we stray from the point,â€
 	said Ted. â€œWhat wil you wear for the feast?â€​par 	â€œNever,â€ said Randolph, â€œShanâ€™s robe of state.â€ And he whipped around, snatched at a mound of green on his way by, and strode from the chamber. 
 	Ted leaped after him. â€œWait! Please.â€​par 	
 	Ted leaped after him. â€œWait! Please.â€​par 	Randolph, almost around the first curve below the room, looked over his shoulder. â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​par 	â€œCan you spare me just a couple more minutes?â€​par 	â€œI can spare thee al the time thouâ€™lt take,â€ said Randolph, and came back up the stairs. â€œIt hath seemed to me these two months that thou wouldst take as little as thou couldst.â€​par 	â€œYou were the one who left just now,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Randolph, stil gently, â€œI have not said I wil sit meek under al manner of insult.â€​par 	Ted stood aside to let him back through the door. 
 	Randolph dropped the mass of green to the floor and sat upon it. Ted hunched down beside him. â€œIs the truth an insult?â€​par 	Randolph turned red again, and in his voice the gentleness was replaced by nothing in particular. â€œOn occasion,â€ he said. â€œIt is also, perhaps, il -mannered to speak of things that speaking can but worsen.â€​par 	â€œHow if I think it can better them?â€​par 	Randolph made a wry face. â€œSpeak, then. I am bound to hear.â€​par 	Ted, wondering uneasily what ritual he had invoked, said, â€œWhat is the Kingâ€™s mind now, regarding the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œHe says he yet considereth the matter,â€ said Randolph, â€œbut al orders he giveth are for the mundane, not the arcane army.â€​par 	â€œWhy,â€ said Ted, suddenly, â€œshould I have to rely on chance encounters with you to find out these things?â€​par 	
 	â€œThat,â€ said Randolph, â€œis between you and the King.â€​par 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Ted, one of his lines from the game rising unbidden to his lips, â€œif ever I have sons, let me not treat them thus.â€​par 	Randolph winced. 
 	â€œYou wil counsel me stil when I have sons?â€ said Ted, stil saying his lines, although they could not belong in this conversation, because in the game Edward had never dreamed of suspecting Randolph until it was too late. 
 	â€œAm I thy mouse, that thou shouldst toy thus with me?â€​aid Randolph, matter-of-factly; and he stood up. 
 	â€œStop leaving! â€ said Ted. â€œHow can we get anything done if you keep leaving?â€​par 	â€œFor what,â€ said Randolph, â€œdo I stay, my lord?â€​par 	â€œFor your lord, maybe,â€ said Ted, viciously. He was getting almost too good at this peculiar game of wringing too many meanings from a carelessly used word. 
 	â€œSpeak to the purpose, then.â€​par 	â€œThe King is set in his error?â€​par 	â€œHe is.â€​par 	â€œAnd thereâ€™s no hope in his strategies?â€​par 	â€œNone.â€​par 	â€œAnd youâ€™re set in your plan?â€​par 	â€œEdward, Edward,â€ said Randolph. â€œThou mayst cal a guard; thou mayst draw a sword; thou mayst do more than hint to Fence. But this matter is far past words. I beg thy leave to go.â€​par 	â€œWe 
 	could 
 	think 
 	of 
 	something 
 	else! 
 	Someâ€”someâ€”half-measure. 
 	We 
 	could 
 	say 
 	the
 	Kingâ€™s sick; Fence could, and keep him out of the way. 
 	We could do something, Randolph, besidesâ€”â€​par 	â€œThere is no â€˜eâ€™ in this,â€ said Randolph, grimly. â€œI wil have no conspiracies. I wil not stain thee, I wil not sul y Fence, with these half-measures. That were more dishonorable yet. And I say to thee,â€ he added, taking Ted by the shoulders in a light but merciless grip, â€œthat I wish no harm to King Wil iam, and am sworn to defend him. Dost thou hear?â€​par 	Ted could not say a word. He stared at Randolphâ€™s face, with its ghostly kinship to his cousinsâ€™: eyes greener than Ruthâ€™s, hair blacker and wilder than El enâ€™s; a scar on the cheek neither of them was likely to acquire; lines around the mouth and eyes neither of them, he hoped, would suffer to earn. 
 	This was not the gay lord, the bril iant magician, the convenient hand with poison they had invented lest their plot be too easy to guess. Their Randolph would have been pleased with any way out of what had seemed to him an insoluble dilemma: the King or the Country, one must go. 
 	Their Randolph would never have said, I wil have no conspiracies. Ted felt as if he had opened a door to a familiar room and found vast dark caverns. He feared Randolph as he had never feared him before: for now he was afraid, not of what he knew about Randolph, but of what he did not know. 
 	â€œThe gray robe, you think?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Shanâ€™s robe of state, he had said. The robe of another renegade apprentice, another traitor with the highest of principles. 
 	â€œAs a jest, perhaps,â€​aid Ted, but his voice shook. 
 	â€œFence would take it amiss,â€ said Randolph, â€œnot for the gray, but for the brooch. To wear the brooch is presumption; not to wear it is denial.â€​par 	â€œMaybe thereâ€™s something else,â€ said Ted, and began rummaging, almost frantical y. 
 	â€œHere,â€ said Randolph after a few minutes. Ted turned to him. He held up a heavy and voluminous velvet robe, like those worn by the Kingâ€™s Counselors, but pale gray, not blue. 
 	â€œI had forgot,â€ said Randolph. â€œBefore Shan and Melanie, the counselors wore gray; Shan and Melanie were held to have disgraced the color and the office, and so the color was changed. This wil do, Edward, it wil do very wel .â€​par 	â€œThink on it more,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThis matter, as I have told you, is past words,â€ said Randolph, â€œand it is far past thinking.â€​par 	He put a hand on Tedâ€™s head as if Ted were Laura or El en, bundled up the mass of gray, and left. This time Ted let him go. He sat on in the stuffy room, staring at the vivid green of the robe Randolph had been sitting on, until the bel rang for the midday meal. 
 	
 CHAPTER 2

 	ALL five children had exercised their imaginations on High Castleâ€™s Banquet Hal , but none of them had considered where the inhabitants of the castle would eat the humbler meals of everyday. The room in which this happened was therefore often a great comfort to visit, because it thwarted nobodyâ€™s expectations. It was cal ed the Dragon Hal , perhaps for the color of its wal s and floor. It occupied the southeastern corner of the second pink section of High Castle, High Castle being constructed, most unfortunately, like a marred specimen of one of those round peppermints sometimes given away by restaurants. 
 	The Dragon Hal was two stories high, the details of its ceiling and upper wal s general y lost in smoke and shadows. A number of corridors dead-ended suddenly in balconies overlooking it, but most people coming along them did so under the impression that they were going elsewhere, and were therefore impatient of them. Only the five children and an occasional young servant seemed to have discovered the delights of unseen observation from these spots. Ted used one of them to ascertain that his sister and cousins were already eating their lunch below, and went resignedly down to join them. 
 	The room was lit by two fires, by a few smoky torches probably left over from the night before, and by six wide bands of noon sunshine from the rose garden. In this predominantly pink light, Laura, who was normal y pale, looked healthy; Ruth and El en, normal y robust, looked a little feverish; and Patrick, normal y feverish, looked bedeviled. Ted hoped it was only the light. The last thing he cared to struggle with now was Patrick in one of his moods. 
 	Al four of them greeted him with their mouths ful ; remarked on his lateness without giving him space to explain it, supposing he had wanted to; and returned to their discussion of whether Agatha was more than she seemed, or just extraordinarily impudent. When the woman in question sat her plump, black-haired, elegant self down at the far end of their table, there was an abrupt silence around Ted. Agatha had sharp ears and a sharper tongue. 
 	â€œWhy arenâ€™t you eating?â€ El en asked him quickly. 
 	â€œBecause Iâ€™m not hungry.â€​par 	Laura and Ruth looked up. 
 	â€œWhy not?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Ted looked around. Randolph was not there, but Fence, High Castleâ€™s resident wizard, and Matthew, the Scribe of the Kingâ€™s Council, were in earshot, the brown head and the red one jostled together over a piece of parchment. 
 	Ted doubted they would notice anything less than a scream, but it was just as wel not to take chances. 
 	â€œCome outside and Iâ€™l tel you.â€​par 	â€œSome of us are hungry,â€ remarked El en, cramming a meat pie into her mouth and stuffing two more into the pocket of her dress. 
 	â€œAgathaâ€™l kil you,â€​aid Laura, under her breath. 
 	â€œI keep forgetting we canâ€™t just throw these things in the washer,â€ said El en, with mild regret. â€œCome on, Ruthie.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t want to hear any more arguments,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œIâ€™m not going to argue,â€ said Ted. â€œIâ€™m just going to tel you what happened.â€​par 	â€œPatrickâ€™l argue,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œNo, I wonâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œYou wil so, you canâ€™t help it.â€​par 	â€œYou can come back in when he starts,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHeâ€™s doing it now,â€ remarked Ruth, but she stood up. 
 	Ted put his hand under her elbow as he had several times seen Randolph put his under Claudiaâ€™s during the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve. â€œI want to ask you some things, too,â€ he added, thinking of Claudia staring in her tower, stopped cold by Ruthâ€™s sorcery in the midst of her plots, whatever they were. 
 	â€œI canâ€™t tel much to outsiders,â€ said Ruth, standing up nonetheless. 
 	â€œWel , I like that!â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œGood,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	They al moved for the door. 
 	â€œMy lord Edward!â€​al ed Fence. 
 	Ted started and almost tripped Ruth, who snorted and pul ed her arm out of his grip. 
 	â€œSir?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œI would have your advice on a matter.â€​par 	â€œCould I attend you later?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œCome to my chamber,â€ said Matthew, â€œand spare us al the steps.â€​par 	Fence nodded, and Ted nodded, and the five children went on out. 
 	â€œIâ€™m getting tired of this,â€ said El en with her mouth ful , as they made for their favorite spot on the pink wal above the moat. If you sat on a pink wal , at least you got to look at a white one. 
 	â€œRuthie,â€ continued El en, walking backward along the curving marble path so she could address al four of them, â€œhas her sorcery. Ted gets to go give advice to Fence. Patrick doesnâ€™t care. But Laurie and me, we canâ€™t do anything. We canâ€™t even go to our own feast.â€​par 	â€œLaurie and I, â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œYou want to watch the King get poisoned?â€ said Laura to El en. 
 	El en wedged herself between two stones of the wal and hurled a fragment of pastry amongst the waiting ducks. The day was clear, hot, and damp, and the moat shimmered and broke and came together again in great swatches of blue and green. 
 	â€œI want to go to the feast,â€ she said, â€œand watch Ted save him.â€​par 	â€œFat chance,â€ said Ted, bitterly. â€œI talked to Randolph while I was finding my costume.â€​par 	â€œDid you find a good one?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s irrelevant,â€​aid Ted, sharply. 
 	â€œIt is not! â€​par 	â€œLet him finish, El ie,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œHe told me quite plainly,â€ said Ted, â€œthat the King is stil going to try to fight the war without magic, and that heâ€”Randolph, I meanâ€”is going to kil the King.â€​par 	â€œHe said, â€˜ am going to kil the Kingâ€™?â€
 	demanded Patrick, coming awake suddenly. He had been lying on a stone bench with his eyes closed, as though fal ing asleep were the only way he could prevent himself from arguing. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted. â€œBut he told me I couldnâ€™t stop him by talking.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s hardly the same thing,â€ said Patrick, closing his eyes again. 
 	â€œHe didnâ€™t have to spel it out,â€ said Ted, exasperated. â€œWe both knew what he was talking about.â€​par 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s not the point,â€ said Patrick. â€œIf heâ€™d said something you could tel Fenceâ€”â€​par 	â€œOh, he did,â€ said Ted, realization smiting him. 
 	â€œHe said he bore no il wil to the King and he was sworn to defend him. Isnâ€™t that just great?â€​par 	â€œNobody ever said Randolph was stupid,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œI never did think you could make Randolph change his mind,â€​aid Ruth. â€œWe should just stop him.â€​par 	â€œWel , we tried to when we made Laurie wish on the magic ground in the Enchanted Forest,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œThat could stil work.â€​par 	â€œWouldnâ€™t hurt to have a backup plan, though,â€
 	said Patrick, opening his eyes again. 
 	
 	â€œRandolph told me three backup plans,â€ said Ted, wishing he could think that was funny. â€œHe said I could use a sword, or tel Fence, or tel the Castle guard to arrest him.â€​par 	â€œAnd of course,â€ said Patrick, â€œhe can beat you in a sword fight, and youâ€™ve already talked to Fence. 
 	And we couldnâ€™t make any sense at a trial without giving ourselves away, even if the King thought there was time to have a trial before the battle.â€​par 	â€œRandolph wouldnâ€™t want to kil you,  though, would he, Ted?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s not the point,â€ said Patrick, overriding El enâ€™s customary protest that Randolph was a murderer who would probably just as soon kil Ted as anybody else. El en had never liked the character Randolph, and the apparent charm and goodness of the actual person had not changed her opinion in the slightest. â€œWhat Randolph meant, Laurie, was that Ted could chal enge him to a duel; and if he beat Ted, that would mean he was innocent.â€​par 	â€œPretty sneaky,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œEven sneakier than we thought,â€ said Ted, gloomily. â€œPatrick, I asked him to try some sort of plan with Fence and meâ€”lock the King up and say heâ€™s sick, or somethingâ€”â€​par 	Patrick sat up. â€œHuh,â€​e said. 
 	â€œHe said he would have no conspiracies,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHe did?â€​par 	â€œI think heâ€™s crazy or something.â€​par 	
 	 â€œRandolph?â€​ said Laura. 
 	â€œSo how are you going to stop him?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t suppose you know any sorcery for it,â€
 	said Ted, bitterly. 
 	â€œGreen Caves sorcery isnâ€™t people sorcery,â€
 	said Ruth. â€œThatâ€™s Fenceâ€™s kind. We do things with earth and water and plants.â€​par 	â€œIf it doesnâ€™t affect people,â€ said Ted, â€œhow did it work on Claudia?â€​par 	â€œThat wasnâ€™t anything to do with the Green Caves,â€ said Ruth, sharply. â€œThat was Shanâ€™s Ring. I just altered a spel Iâ€™d learned from the Green Caves, toâ€”to focus the power of the ring. But I donâ€™t know any more about Shanâ€™s Ring than you do.â€​par 	Ted gave up on this line of inquiry, and picked a yel ow rose from a bush that wound its way over the wal . 
 	â€œWel ,â€ he said, â€œwhich feast does Randolph kil the King at?â€​par 	â€œYou mean, which feast is it supposed to be?â€ said Patrick, under his breath. El en kicked his foot, which he had propped up on the wal , but no one else took any notice of him. 
 	â€œEvery Man a Servant and a Master,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œOh, of course,â€ said Ruth. â€œBecause it provides the most confusion.â€​par 	â€œHow can you do anything with everybody running around?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œIf everybodyâ€™s running around,â€ said Ted, â€œI can run around after Randolph.â€​par 	
 	â€œHow come Edward didnâ€™t, then?â€​par 	â€œEdward didnâ€™t suspect anything,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œBut isnâ€™t Andrew supposed to be running around after Ted?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIn the game, Randolph did the poisoning by baiting Andrew until everybody was arguing and yel ing,â€ said Ted. â€œAnd Andrew said something nasty about Edwardâ€™s mother. Thatâ€™s why Edward didnâ€™t notice what Randolph was doing. Itâ€™s essential to Randolphâ€™s whole plan that Edward not know what heâ€™s done, because Randolph has to guide him through the war or the murderâ€™s been for nothing, and the moment Edward finds out Randolph has kil ed the King, Edward has to kil Randolph. But I donâ€™t care about Edwardâ€™s mother, so I can ignore Andrew and watch Randolph. He knows I suspect him, too, so I donâ€™t think he can do it if Iâ€™m watching. Or Iâ€™l take the cup and pour it out the window, if I have to.â€​par 	â€œWhat about Edwardâ€™s mother, I wonder?â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œI used to make up something different every year,â€
 	said El en, with unusual diffidence. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Ruth, â€œI mean real y. Where is she?â€​par 	Ted shrugged. 
 	â€œThere is a definite dearth of parents around here, when you come to think of it,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œRoyal children are always raised by servants,â€
 	explained Patrick. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said El en to Ted, â€œwhatâ€™s your costume like?â€​par 	
 	costume like?â€​par 	â€œGreen,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhat else?â€​par 	â€œEl ie, I havenâ€™t real y looked at it.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re supposed to choose it with great care,â€
 	said El en, darkly. 
 	Ted, an al -too-familiar impatience overtaking him, threw the rose into the moat. â€œI have to go talk to Matthew and Fence,â€​e said, and went. 
 	Matthew had a cluttered room on the ground floor of High Castleâ€™s second white circle, overlooking the rose garden. He and Fence were sitting on the elaborate carpet when Ted came in, probably because every chair and every table was piled with documents and scrol s and books. They both looked young, bookish, and confused. 
 	â€œBe welcome,â€ said Matthew, without looking up, â€œand do me the honor of reading over these lines.â€​par 	Ted came around behind them and peered over their bowed heads. They were looking at a very grimy, tattered, creased piece of paper, or parchment, or who knew what. 
 	Ted squinted at the swift lines of black that fil ed the piece, not from top to bottom, but from corner to corner, and felt a vast dismay. He did not even recognize them as an alphabet of the Secret Country that he had invented and then forgotten. 
 	â€œWhat thinkest thou?â€​ence asked. 
 	â€œNot much,â€​aid Ted, stil shocked. 
 	â€œI thought it akin to the scribbling of the Dwarves,â€
 	said Matthew, â€œbut Fence, who saith those are not scribblings, makes it to be a riddle of Shanâ€™s. Hast seen aught of it in thy reading?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think so,â€ said Ted, so dizzy with relief that he had to lean on Fenceâ€™s shoulder. 
 	â€œConsider a little longer,â€ said Fence, seeming not to take it amiss. 
 	Ted took a breath to steady himself, smel ed the aura of burning leaves that surrounded Fence, and sat down backward from his kneeling position. The day four years ago when he and Patrick had built the bonfire, and El en had found them and been furious at being left out: what ritual had they invented to placate her? 
 	â€œArenâ€™t those fire-letters?â€​e asked. 
 	Matthew yelped, and Fence looked blankly over his shoulder at Ted. 
 	â€œOh, my lord, thouâ€™rt worth a hundred of scholars and wizards such as we!â€ said Matthew. â€œCanst read â€™em, then?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhat are fire-letters?â€​aid Fence, mildly. 
 	Matthew paused, as if to give Ted a chance to air his knowledge; but he was too excited to wait for long. â€œA device of the wandering minstrels,â€ he said. â€œI know not what sorcery â€™tis akin to; but they do somehow place a sheet of this,â€ and he shook the sheet, â€œin the fire, and play certain notes, and speak what they would capture; and play certain notes at the ending. To make it speak, one but puts it into the fire again.â€​par 	â€œAnd plays certain notes, no doubt,â€ said Fence, dryly. 
 	
 	Matthew looked less exuberant. â€œAlas, thatâ€™s true.â€​par 	â€œSo itâ€™s not much good, knowing what they are?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt is great good,â€ said Matthew, firmly. â€œYet it may not come in time.â€​par 	â€œDo you think the Kingâ€™s changed his mind, then, if youâ€™re stil doing sorcerous research?â€ said Ted, hopeful y. 
 	Fence fixed him with a most unpleasant look. â€œIt is our place to be ready an he change his mind, not to pry and speculate hath he done so.â€​par 	â€œHave we any skil ed scholars of music in the castle?â€​used Matthew. 
 	â€œWhere did you get that, anyway?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œParts of Shanâ€™s journal are written thus,â€ Fence answered him. 
 	â€œI didnâ€™t know Shan was a musician.â€​par 	â€œNor did we,â€ said Matthew. He stood up, a little stiffly. â€œFence, by your leave, I wil go to Celia; a most accomplished musician, she knows something of these matters and may direct us to one who knows more.â€​par 	â€œAs you wil ,â€ said Fence. â€œIâ€™l go on with the parts more straightly written.â€​par 	Matthew bounded through the door and could be heard running down the hol ow corridor. 
 	â€œHeâ€™s having fun,â€​aid Ted, wistful y. 
 	â€œThat is a scholar,â€ said Fence, not looking up from his manuscript. â€œHeâ€™d welcome death itself if he learned from it what Melanie did in the Gray Lake or why the Dwarves dwindle.â€​par 	â€œWould you?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œFor other knowledge, perhaps,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œNot for the riddles of wizards and history.â€​par 	â€œI guess Iâ€™d better leave you to work,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence looked at him thoughtful y, with green eyes unusual y sharp in his innocent round face. â€œPolish thy blade,â€ he said, â€œwith use, not with sand. I would not lose thee easily.â€​par 	â€œIf the King doesnâ€™t change his mind, youâ€™l lose everything easily,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIndeed I wil not,â€ said Fence. â€œThe Dragon Kingâ€™s victory wil come as hard as I can make itâ€”and that is hard, in truth.â€ He bent his disheveled head to the scrol again. â€œGet thee to arms,â€​e said. 
 	
 CHAPTER 3

 	TED walked slowly along the dim hal s. He could not walk quickly because he would trip over the green robe, and he was grateful for this. He found himself counting off the familiar landmarks of door, stair, and turn. He thought, I donâ€™t have to worry until Iâ€™m past the kitchen; I have a long way to go stil ; Iâ€™m safe for a few minutes. 
 	It had been a cold and foggy day, like al the mornings before Ruth used Shanâ€™s Ring on Claudia. Outside, trees dripped, grasses drooped, the roses hung heavily, and the moat was a sheet of lead; inside, every wal and floor was cold and every torch dim. The gray garment of Shan would have suited the weather; Tedâ€™s vivid green seemed brash and useless, like flinging yourself across a banquet table at an insult. 
 	He climbed a last stair, nodded to the man-at-arms, and turned down the corridor for the Council Chamber. It seemed to him not at al appropriate to hold the feast in the Council Chamber, but everyone except his sister and cousins appeared to think this normal. 
 	The carved double doors were shut. He was very early, in case Randolph had planned to set something up before anyone else was around. Ted pushed, but the doors were locked. 
 	â€œOpen, an it please thee,â€ he said, but the doors did not. 
 	Ted leaned against the wal . Cold shot up his spine, but he stayed where he was. He wondered if Claudia had gotten out of Ruthâ€™s spel . He and Patrick had asked Fence, sometime in the burning middle of July, when fog would have been welcome, if Claudia could have made al those mornings in June cold and foggy. Fenceâ€™s mouth quirked, and he said that he had done just that thing in his youth, so that he would not have to go hunting. â€œSo you see, â€™tis a skil mastered early,â€ he said. â€œBut why, think you, would Claudia work it upon us?â€​par 	Ted and Patrick had had no answer at the time, but now Ted wondered if it might not have suited Claudiaâ€™s purposes very wel to make waking gloomy, and getting up a trial, and being out early a misery, and seeing the sun rise almost impossible. Maybe the way cold and shadows and fog of a summerâ€™s morning made people feel was just the way she wanted them to feel. She probably liked nasty weather herself, the weasel. It would be hard to slink wel without fog. 
 	Ted jerked away from the wal . He was spooking himself. 
 	In the dim corridor shadows were beginning to crawl. He slid his hands inside the wide sleeves of his robe, rubbing his arms. There was a man with a sword not ten yards away, and there wasnâ€™t anything in the hal anyway. 
 	Someone let a whole basinful of water down a drain al at once, just behind him. He flung himself around, tripped on the robe, and sat down next to the purple beast. It gurgled. It looked neither more appealing nor more dangerous than it had seemed on the steps of the West Tower, the night he and the others had found Shanâ€™s Ring. It had no eyes, no legs, no up or down, and no edges. It looked like spil ed ink, like light blurrily reflected through a dirty window a long way off, like the water after a long afternoon of painting exclusively with red and purple. Fence and Randolph had said, more or less, that these purple beasts were the byproducts of Claudiaâ€™s forbidden mingling of the methods of the sorcery of the Green Caves with those of the school of Blue Sorcery. 
 	The beast gurgled again, and sloshed itself a little, back and forth on the worn gray stones of the floor. 
 	â€œVery funny,â€ said Ted. Nobody seemed to think the things were dangerous, but they were disquieting. â€œJust your kind of weather, isnâ€™t it?â€ he said companionably. 
 	The beast was silent. 
 	The man-at-arms poked his head around the corner at the top of the stairs. â€œMy lord?â€​par 	â€œCan you come here andâ€”â€ No, of course not, he couldnâ€™t leave his post. â€œLook at this thing on the floor; have you ever seen one of these?â€​par 	The man squinted. â€œ â€™Tis too smal for my eyes, seemingly, my lord.â€​par 	It was the size of a beanbag chair. Ted turned to look at it again, and it was gone. 
 	â€œNever mind,â€ he said, trying not to sound as furious as he felt. 
 	The guard grinned at him and went back around the corner. 
 	â€œGive you good day,â€ his voice said then, echoing a little in the hol ow stairs. 
 	â€œI would that you could,â€ said Randolphâ€™s voice, wryly rather than gloomily. 
 	â€œHath been a bad year for fogs,â€​aid the guard. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Randolph, â€œthey say â€™tis wondrous good for sorcery.â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said the guard, sounding like Fence; and Randolph laughed. 
 	When he came down the corridor and saw Ted, he stopped smiling. 
 	â€œGive you good day,â€ said Ted, and was astonished at the insolence in his voice. He wondered if he would be able to summon up the same tone for the school principal the next time the principal deserved it. He wondered if Randolph deserved it. 
 	Randolphâ€™s eyebrows went up, but al he said was, â€œAnd you.â€​par 	He did not look at Ted as Ted moved to let him by. He stopped before the carved doors, stepped back, tilted his head as if he were reading, and said, â€œMaster and servant bid thee open.â€​par 	Ted looked at the door, but if its wooden twinings were letters, they were none he had ever seen. The doors swung inward, silently, and Randolph went in. 
 	â€œWil it ruin the ritual if I come in and sit down?â€
 	cal ed Ted. 
 	â€œThis is not sorcery,â€​aid Randolph, rather shortly. 
 	Tedâ€™s impulse was to ask him if he minded, but he thought in time that it was probably not wise to be too courteous to a murderer. Even on the brink of the deed it was hard to think of Randolph as a murderer. Ted went to his chair and sat down. A trickle of water had come in one corner of the easternmost window and col ected on the floor in a dul pool. Ted thought for a moment that it was the beast again. The room was even darker than the hal . But Randolph, who could speak to the beasts and be obeyed, only muttered under his breath and went out, leaving Ted to feel like someone in the waiting room of an unknown dentist of dubious reputation. 
 	Before Randolph returned, Andrew and Conrad came in. 
 	They did not look as if they had walked to the Council Room together; they had the wary and disgruntled air of people who have been startled by someone they do not like. 
 	They made an odd pair even in appearance: Conrad large and placid, with his bald head and vast black beard; Andrew thin and wary, with his sleek hair and yel ow moustache and his level eye. Conrad wore a huge and shapeless robe of some shiny purple stuff. Andrew had stayed with what Ted realized must be the newer fashion, shirt and doublet and hose. His were gold and white. Faith and health, thought Ted. Thereâ€™s arrogance for you. 
 	He and Andrew had not spoken to one another since the nasty scene at the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve. There had been no need; except on just such formal occasions, they did not move in the same circles. Now Andrew took one look at Ted and frowned even harder. Conrad only grinned at him. 
 	â€œGive you good day,â€ said Ted, to the space between them. 
 	â€œWel , lad, whereâ€™s the wine?â€​aid Conrad. 
 	â€œI expect Randolphâ€™s gone for it,â€ said Ted, wondering if he should have gone, too. But it was in sealed bottles, wasnâ€™t it? 
 	Conrad sat down in his accustomed chair. Ted looked at him, remembering Ruthâ€™s remark about the dearth of parents. Conrad was supposedly El en and Lauraâ€™s parent, but Ted did not think he had ever seen Conrad address a word to either of them. And who was their mother? 
 	Randolph came back into the room with a wad of cloths in one hand and a col ection of bottles in the other arm. He did not look pleased to see Andrew and Conrad. 
 	â€œYou are early, cousins,â€ he said. He put the wine bottles untidily at one end of the table and attacked the pool of water with his cloth. 
 	â€œNot so early as thou,â€​aid Conrad. 
 	â€œI must depart early,â€ said Randolph. This was news to Ted, who looked warily at him. â€œI thought therefore to do my serving while I might.â€​par 	â€œWhy, no man leaves this feast before its end,â€ said Andrew. 
 	Randolph shrugged. Ted had never seen him approach rudeness. Perhaps when you were about to murder somebody it was harder to be polite. 
 	Randolph opened a cupboard against the wal and took out a pile of napkins, yel ow and faded. Ted knew by now that the old ones were the good ones, but he wished for fresh white napkins to brighten the room. Randolph turned back to the cupboard and took out wine-glasses; they were a cloudy blue, and much finer work than Ted had seen on any table in High Castle heretofore, even at the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve. 
 	â€œThese are something dusty,â€ observed Conrad, picking one up. 
 	â€œDo you polish them, then,â€ said Randolph, shortly, and handed him a cloth. 
 	
 	Conrad cocked an eyebrow at him, and began to polish glasses. Ted looked at Randolph, who was staring into the empty cupboard. Ted fol owed his gaze, and saw only a cobweb in the corner of the bottom shelf. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s something dusty, too,â€​e offered. 
 	Randolph turned on him, and suddenly laughed. â€œIn such a castle, why should it not be?â€ he said, gaily. Ted blinked at him. 
 	Randolph pul ed open a drawer and began taking out candles and candlesticks. Conrad was stil polishing glasses and Andrew had begun to fold the napkins into intricate shapesâ€”a talent Ted would never have dreamed of assigning himâ€”so Ted was left to put the candles into the sticks and light them from the torch in the hal . 
 	They were not, in the absence of the usual augmenting torchlight, as cheering as they ought to have been. They cast great leaping shadows into the high corners of the ceiling, put an eerie halo around every head, and distorted every visage into unfamiliarity by smoothing out some features and deepening others. Ted began to wonder how, in this bewilderment, he was to keep an eye on Randolph. Fol ow him like a pet dog, he supposed. 
 	Of course, it might already be too late. Had Randolph poisoned the cloth with which Conrad was polishing glasses? No, that was sil y, that would get everyone. How in the world did it go in the story: how did Randolph administer the poison? In the wine, yes. But in what form was it: a liquid, a pil ? Had they fol owed Hamlet and made the poison a pearl? 
 	Ted cursed himself for not having asked the others when he had the chance. Then he calmed down a little. He would probably have gotten four different answers, Randolphâ€™s exact method having been one of the less stable items of their repertoire. And you could not trust the Secret Country not to come up with a fifth answer, anyway. 
 	Matthew and Julian came in, Matthew in a red robe that quarreled with his hair, and Julian in a black one that made him look like a bad watercolor of his usual vivid self. They were given spoons and knives and plates to polish, and fel cheerful y to these duties. If he had been feeling better, Ted would have laughed to see lords and counselors, in their best clothes, doing kitchen work. As it was, he stayed within a foot of Randolph and was stepped on several times. 
 	Randolph was so good-natured about this that Ted began to despair: he must have arranged his poison already. That meant that he could not be al owed to give anything to the King. Ted wished for the others: five of them might have been enough to achieve this. 
 	While Randolph was talking to Matthew in a far corner that contained no glasses or napkins, Ted stole a moment to look around the room. It had fil ed up while he dogged Randolph. As he looked at the door, the King came in. He wore red, and a crown with rubies. The light of the candles fal ing back from his robe and his jewels wiped the lines from his face and dyed it a healthy color. He looked terrifyingly capable. 
 	Andrew, with a swift movement that reminded Ted of Claudia, got to the Kingâ€™s chair first and held it for him. 
 	Ted, seeing Randolph taking his usual seat, slid into the chair next to him, hoping that he had gotten this detail right, that people sat where they pleased at this feast. 
 	The King raised his hand and spoke. 
 	
 	â€œMy lords, my counselors, and my friends.â€ His voice, as always, carried wel , without any suggestion of effort. Ted saw that his hands lay stil upon the dul y gleaming table. He might be old, but he was not weak. No wonder Randolph had felt driven to poison. Ted felt a momentary panic. They had not settled on a plan for what to do when the King did not die and stil wanted to fight the battle wrong. 
 	â€œIt is the way of things,â€ said the King, â€œthat ye serve me. That we should not forget that this service is of utmost value, nor that a master would be less than he is without the least of his servants, there is a feast wherein I serve ye. But tonight is the feast wherein one of ye serves us al , that he may taste the joys of that least servant, and ye may taste the joys of the King, and the King may relish his jest. And this year is the year wherein Lord Randolph Martinâ€™s son is the least servant. 
 	â€œLet the feast begin.â€​par 	He looked, smiling, to Randolph on his right, and nodded. 
 	Ted sat petrified. This was the wrong speech, the wrong feast, the wrong arrangement. This should be the feast wherein al lords served one another and the King served them, that they might not forget that in the end master and servant were equal. In the joviality and confusion of that feast any lord would have half a dozen chances to poison half a dozen of his fel ows, his king, and the kitchen cat, with no one the wiser until the victims began to writhe. In that feast, Randolph could poison the King with Ted at his elbow, unless Ted were eternal y alert. 
 	But if the King died at this feast, only one lord would be pointed at: the one who had served. 
 	
 	Randolph could not possibly poison the King tonight. If he did they would catch him, and if someone did not stab him on the spot, they would hang him almost as speedily. He would not be able to guide Ted through the war with the Dragon King and thus save the Secret Country. And since to save the Secret Country was the only reason Randolph would kil the King, and to kil the King this way would not save the Secret Country, Randolph would not kil the King this way. 
 	Ted almost laughed aloud, but he became aware in time of the silence he would have laughed into. Randolph looked as if he had seen the sun rise in the west. Everyone else looked acutely embarrassed. This was not just the Secret Country playing tricks, then. Everyone here had expected the Every Man a Servant and a Master Feast. Did that mean the Kingâ€™s mind real y was weakening? Was Randolph more in the right than they had thought? 
 	Ted stopped watching Randolphâ€™s hands and stole a look at his face. He looked neither reprieved nor thwarted; he seemed, rather, amused and somehow satisfied. 
 	â€œMy lords,â€ said Randolph, gathering their gazes to him. 
 	Matthew, screened from the Kingâ€™s notice by Randolphâ€™s 
 	body, 
 	slipped 
 	his 
 	napkin 
 	over
 	Randolphâ€™s arm. A bottle of wine stood at Andrewâ€™s elbow. He slid it past Conrad and Matthew and Ted to within Randolphâ€™s reach, and Randolph took it up and began to pour the Kingâ€™s cup ful . 
 	Ted moved like an eel and bumped Randolphâ€™s elbow solidly. The bottle knocked into the cup, tipping it over, and a pool of vigorous red spread over the tabletop in the candlelight. As Randolph reached hastily for the toppling cup, Ted bumped him again, and he dropped the bottle, which poured impartial y over the table, the floor, and Conradâ€™s and Matthewâ€™s laps. Tedâ€™s thought caught up with his hand: nobody who looked that pleased with himself when his plans appeared to have been thwarted should be al owed to do what he liked. 
 	The King had not seen Ted; he had seen only the jerk of Randolphâ€™s arm. As the cup thumped over, he laughed. 
 	Now he said, â€œHast been coddled too long, Randolph? 
 	Shouldst be a page more often, to keep thy nimbleness?â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Randolph, smiling. â€œYour pardon, my lord.â€​par 	He turned and looked down at Ted, who was wedged between him and Matthew. The smile left his face, but Ted was astonished to see congratulation in his eyes. 
 	â€œEdward, a cloth, if you would be so good,â€ said Randolph. 
 	Ted moved back from the table and found himself six inches from the furious and panic-stricken face of Andrew, who had been perfectly placed to see Ted jog Randolphâ€™s elbow. Ted backed away from him, pushed his way to the cupboard, and brought Randolph a pile of napkins the long way around rather than pass by Andrew again. What was wrong with him? Had he poisoned the wine, too? He had been sitting right there with the open bottle before him. 
 	â€œOh, God,â€​aid Ted involuntarily. 
 	He looked at Matthew and Conrad, who stood dripping wine onto the stone floor. Matthew was laughing; Conrad just looked rueful. Ted handed them some of the napkins, wondering how to keep them from putting their hands in their mouths. 
 	He looked at Andrew. That young man had not returned to his seat; he was leaning against the edge of the table, fists clenched: he looked thwarted and desperate, exactly as Randolph ought, but he was not concerned with Matthew and Conrad. He was watching Randolph as if Randolph were an escaped tiger. Did he simply not care how many other people he poisoned, or was something else the matter with him? There was no reason for him to poison the King. 
 	Ted shook his head. His job was with Randolph, who was now holding up the Kingâ€™s glass and examining it for cracks. 
 	Ted slithered forward and took it out of his hand. If there had been poison in that glass he shouldnâ€™t let the King near it. â€œIâ€™l get you another, my lord,â€​e said. 
 	Randolph grinned at him in the manner of one conspirator to another, and Ted went back to the cupboard feeling almost dizzy. He had never known anyone who could so wholeheartedly approve of his enemy. As a weird person, Lady Ruth of the Green Caves had nothing on Randolph. 
 	Ted brought him another cup, and Matthew handed him another bottle. Randolph poured the Kingâ€™s wine: his hand on the bottle jerked once and then steadied. Andrew, who had stil not sat down again, was glaring at the tabletop; the tabletop was dry; Matthew and Conrad were merely damp, not dripping. They seemed perfectly healthy. How did the lines go, from which the gameâ€™s version of this event had derived its inspiration? So mortal, that but dip a knife in it, where it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare can save the thing from death that is but scratched withal.  Wel , al right; they were fine if they had no scratches or cuts. Like first-aid class, thought Ted wildly, do not suck the venom from the snakebite if you have a cut or sore in your mouth. 
 	Shut up, he told himself, itâ€™s al right now. You stopped Randolph. Enjoy your wonderful feast. And Ted became aware that he was in the wrong place for this feast. So was everyone else, but his chair was actual y empty. He edged and groped his way to the far end of the table, going sideways so as to keep an eye on Randolph, and prickling with the expectation that the King would see, and embarrass him and everyone else by chiding his unreadiness, his dul ness, and his lack of manners. Not to mention that someone might take it upon himself to excuse Ted by explaining that the King had the feast wrong; and if they went ahead and had the other feast, and Randolph had not actual y been so foolish as to poison the cup Ted had upset, then Randolph could do his murder after al . 
 	But nothing happened. Matthew was asking the King if he knew of any learned and accomplished musicians in the Castle, and explaining about the fire-letters in Shanâ€™s journal. Apparently Shanâ€™s journal was not a touchy subject, and the King knew something about fire-letters. This conversation occupied the King nicely while a few other lords also found their proper seats, and Randolph poured everyoneâ€™s wine. 
 	Randolph was beginning to look a little strained, which alarmed Ted until he realized an innocent reason for it. Al of the preparations for this feast were wrong now. The feast the King thought it to be was much more elaborate. It was pure luck that both feasts began with wine. Most of the feasts did not: Ted and his sister and cousins, having more taste for sweets than for wine, had created most of the feasts with three desserts, one at the beginning, one at the middle, and one at the end. 
 	Randolph came around behind Ted and poured his wine. 
 	Ted looked at him, involuntarily. Randolph looked back with so fierce a gaze that Ted was impel ed to say something. 
 	â€œAre you going to be able to manage?â€ he asked, and did not know if he had intended the double meaning he saw as he said it. 
 	Randolphâ€™s smile was not so radiant this time. 
 	â€œThe preparations wil serve the need,â€​e said. 
 	He took his place behind the Kingâ€™s chair. The King had already proposed one toast, which Ted had missed. He drank some wine anyway, and grimaced. It made his tongue fur up. Wel , they had decided that it must be strong enough to disguise the taste of the poison. 
 	People were beginning to relax a little. Matthew stood up and flourished his goblet at them. The red wine and the blue glass caught the candlelight and sent it reeling around the room in sparks of purple. 
 	â€œMy lords,â€ said Matthew, â€œto the King. Both glory and length of days.â€​par 	Everybody echoed him, and drank. Ted looked over the smiling Kingâ€™s shoulder at Randolph, and froze. 
 	Randolph looked as if he were going to throw up. 
 	King Wil iam shook his head and put down his goblet with a thud. 
 	â€œMy lord?â€​aid Matthew into the hush. 
 	Ted got up, words from the warning labels on al the bottles of poisonous things he had ever seen going around in his head. 
 	
 	King Wil iam put both hands to his throat, and in the hideous light of the candles his staring and contorted face looked like a gargoyleâ€™s. Matthew knocked his chair over backward and took hold of the King. 
 	â€œFetch Fence!â€​e shouted. 
 	Several people stood up, getting in Tedâ€™s way. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ 
 	said 
 	Matthew. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s
 	Fence?â€​par 	â€œAtop that tower of his, Iâ€™l warrant,â€ said Conrad. â€œGive him wine, Matthew. My prince, fetch Fence.â€​par 	â€œNo; the wineâ€™s at fault,â€ said Andrew. 
 	â€œRandolph, where is Fence?â€​par 	Andrew drew his dagger; Conrad took hold of Andrewâ€™s wrist. Randolph shook his head. 
 	Ted knew where Fence ought to be. 
 	â€œIâ€™l go,â€ he said, but no one heard him; they were al clustering about the King, doing this and that, and talking until he wanted to hit them. The room swam and shuddered before him. He put his hand to the heavy door, and was caught from behind by someone who closed both arms around his shoulders and held on. Ted kicked backward, and was dodged. He bit at one of the imprisoning arms and got a double mouthful of gray velvet. 
 	He shook it out and opened his mouth to yel , when there was a thud behind him. 
 	The arms let go of him. He turned and bumped into Lord Randolph, who looked at the King, and neither moved nor blinked. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Matthew, leaning on the table with the King in a heap at his feet. Wel , they had said it would be a quick poison. 
 	â€œSo swift,â€ said Randolph. He looked calm and a little abstracted, but he was whiter than Ted had ever seen anyone. He shivered, turned for the door, and fel over. His head would have cracked against the stone floor, but it hit King Wil iamâ€™s knee. 
 	â€œTwo!â€ said Conrad. He and Matthew both knelt over Randolph, and nearly bumped heads. Conrad looked over his shoulder at Ted. â€œThy fatherâ€™s dead,â€ he said. â€œThis one lives.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l get Fence,â€​aid Ted, and went running. 
 	â€œNone must leave!â€ Andrew cal ed after him, but he ran on. He could not stay in that room. 
 	He was supposed to run al up and down Fenceâ€™s steps before he found him in the rose garden, but it no longer mattered what anybody was supposed to do. He went straight down past the startled guard and out into the damp gray evening. He blundered past the rain-heavy roses, scattering petals on the wind as his robe slapped them, and came, in the center of the garden where the fountain was, upon Fence and Claudia. 
 	They looked at him, Fence with sharp concern and Claudia with irritation. She was out: out of the spel of Shanâ€™s Ring, and thence easily out of the tower where Jerome had imprisoned her. Ted had no time for her. He stood catching his breath and looking at Fence. 
 	â€œEdward?â€​par 	â€œThe King,â€ said Ted, lurched to his knees, and threw up. 
 	
 	Fence held his head, with cold but extremely steady hands. 
 	â€œThou cream-faced loon!â€ exclaimed Claudia. 
 	â€œWhere gotst thou that goose-look?â€​par 	â€œHold your tongue,â€​aid Fence, absently. 
 	Tedâ€™s stomach finished with him. Maybe they had al been poisoned by Andrew, and that was why Randolph fel over. 
 	Fence picked him up off his knees and steered him to the fountain. â€œWash thy face,â€​e said. 
 	Ted put his head into the water obediently. It was cold, and when he had stood up and blinked the drops from his eyes, he could see clearly for the first time since they had lit the candles in the Council Chamber. 
 	He shook back his wet hair and turned to Fence. Claudia stood just beyond the short figure of the wizard. Her dress was brighter than al the roses, and the pal id sky behind her dark head made it regal. She looked like a queen contemplating the fate of nations. 
 	â€œYou did it,â€​ed said to her. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œKing Wil iam is dead,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence, not a fidgeter at the worst of times, became absolutely stil . â€œHow?â€​e said. 
 	â€œPoison in the wine,â€ said Ted. â€œAt least, Andrew saidâ€”â€​e stopped. 
 	â€œWho hath done this?â€​par 	â€œRandolph, by her wil .â€​ed pointed at Claudia. 
 	
 	â€œIn that chaos, how might you know?â€​par 	â€œIt wasnâ€™t chaos, Fence. The King mistook the feast.â€​par 	Fence remained stil . â€œFor which other?â€​par 	â€œRandolphâ€™s serving-feast.â€​par 	â€œSo there is no doubt?â€​par 	Ted was silent. He had remembered that it was not in his own interest to accuse Randolph now. 
 	â€œDid others drink?â€​par 	â€œEveryone.â€​par 	â€œWere others stricken?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think so. Randolph fainted, or something; and Iâ€™m sick, but nobody else justâ€”just died like that.â€​par 	â€œIn the cup, then, not in the bottle.â€​par 	â€œI guess,â€​aid Ted, miserably. 
 	â€œWho had a chance at the cup?â€​par 	â€œSearch close for one that strikes,â€ said Claudia, in her deep voice with its insinuating touch of huskiness. She sounded amused. â€œAl may yet be very wel .â€​par 	â€œKeep the words of Shan from thy mouth,â€ said Fence, with astonishing severity, and he put his arm through Tedâ€™s. â€œGo we to Randolph, then,â€​e said. 
 	
 CHAPTER 4

 	THEY went back to the Council Chamber in silence. Ted stole an occasional glance at Fence. For al that he was walking briskly, that same stil ness hung about him, as if he had suspended al his mental processes and half his bodily ones. Ted kept wanting to make sure he was breathing. But it was comforting to have something so steady so close. 
 	Ted felt as if he had just stepped off one of the nastier carnival rides, the kind you could never let Laurie go on because she threw up. 
 	They came up the last flight of stairs. It was colder than ever. The man-at-arms had his sword out and held it to block the stairway. He, too, looked sick. Seeing Fence seemed to make him feel sicker; he did not move the sword, nor did he speak when they came up to him. 
 	â€œI have an errand to the King,â€​aid Fence, formal y. 
 	â€œYou are too late,â€​aid the guard. 
 	â€œThat,â€​aid Fence, â€œis for the King to say.â€​par 	The guard opened his mouth, looked at Ted, shut it, and moved out of their way. 
 	â€œYou must learn to speak for yourself,â€ said Fence, as they went down the hal . â€œYou are no sorcererâ€™s puppet; give none cause to say you are.â€​par 	Ted could not answer him. He had forgotten that by failing to stop Randolph he had made himself King. 
 	Both doors of the Council Chamber stood open, but two people with swords barred their way. One of them was the yel ow-haired woman with the scarred forehead who had sat next to Matthew at the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve. 
 	She looked peculiar with a mail-shirt dragged on a little askew over her red dress, but the sword suited her wel enough. Her companionâ€™s mail half-covered what looked remarkably like a nightgown, insofar, among the odd fashions of High Castle, as you could tel a fancy nightgown from a plain dress; her red hair was mussed and her sharp face a little bleary. But she, too, looked quite at home with her sword. Ted wondered what in the world was going on. 
 	â€œWhat hath been accomplished?â€ Fence asked the yel ow-haired woman. 
 	â€œAl save Randolph and Matthew have been taken under guard, â€™til they give account of what hath occurred. Jerome awaits you, at your leisure.â€​par 	â€œThe King?â€​par 	She looked at Ted for a moment, and then back at Fence. 
 	â€œWithin,â€​he said. 
 	â€œThanks,â€ said Fence, imbuing the single word with more formality than Ted would have believed possible. 
 	The guards lowered their swords and Fence went between them into the Council Chamber. Ted had no desire to go back into that room. He looked at the yel ow-haired woman, who had been kind at the banquet. She saluted him with her sword and stood a little more aside. Ted sighed and went in. 
 	Someone had straightened out the Kingâ€™s body and spread a dark-blue cloth over it. Randolph sat on the floor with his head on his knees. Matthew leaned on the table between him and the body of the King. He looked exasperated and helpless, and his whole face lit up when he saw Fence. 
 	Fence got to his knees beside Randolph with a swiftness most people achieve only in jumping up, and put his arms around him. 
 	â€œHe, too?â€​e asked Matthew. 
 	â€œHe says not,â€ said Matthew; â€œhe says â€™tis but some gaingiving as might perhaps trouble a woman.â€​par 	Ted thought that the women at the door had no gaingivings troubling them.  Then he thought that Randolph must know that, too. Some such gaingiving, he thought, as might perhaps trouble a woman who has poisoned the King. 
 	Or anybody with any sense. 
 	â€œA looketh il to me,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œSo do you,â€​aid Ted. â€œSo do I, I bet.â€​par 	â€œMatthew,â€ said Fence, stil holding Randolph, â€œwhat happened?â€​par 	Matthew said slowly, â€œMany came early, thinking this the feast where al must serve. We set bottles and napkins and cups in place; Andrew had the opening of the bottles; â€™tis some joke a hath with Conrad.â€​par 	He looked at the top of Randolphâ€™s head. â€œAs befitted the feast, we were al helter-skelter when the King arrived. Each of us, Fence, hath polished a glass, set a napkin or a plate. The King spoke to us and we saw he had mistook the feast.â€ He cleared his throat. â€œRandolph was on the Kingâ€™s right; Edward to his; I to his; Conrad to his; Andrew to his. Now, when we saw the King was wrong, I put a napkin along Randolphâ€™s arm; the King could not see for that Randolph was between us. Andrew had al the bottles before him, and he did push one past Conrad, and me, and Edward, to Randolph, who began to pour, the Kingâ€™s cup having been set already.â€​par 	Matthew looked at Ted, who, not understanding the look, just shrugged at him. â€œRandolph was oâ€™erhasty in his pouring,â€ said Matthew, stil looking at Ted, â€œand striking the cup wiâ€™ the bottle, he oâ€™erturned it; then, striving to right the cup, he dropped the bottle. He did require Edward to bring him a cloth, and Edward did doâ€™t.â€ He turned back to Fence. â€œNow the cup had been marred by the striking of the bottle, so that Edward brought him another; and, Andrew being sulky, I did take a new bottle and give it to Randolph, who poured for the King and for al .â€​par 	Matthew stood away from the table and crossed his arms. 
 	â€œAl drank the wine, and took no harm therefrom; also, in the spil ing of the first bottle, Lord Conrad and I were wet, but took no harm.â€​par 	â€œMy 
 	best 
 	thanks 
 	to 
 	you,â€ 
 	said 
 	Fence. 
 	â€œEdward?â€​par 	â€œWhat he said,â€ said Ted, a little wildly. Either Matthew had not seen him bump Randolph, or he thought it best not to say so. From Matthewâ€™s looks, it was probably the latter. In any case, he would prefer not to have to explain his actions. 
 	Randolph brought his head up and looked over Fenceâ€™s arm at Ted; once again there was congratulation in his eyes. Ted stared at him, confounded; and then he knew. Now he and Randolph were in truth conspirators. It was Randolph who could save the Secret Country. If they thought Randolph was guilty they would not let him be Regent. 
 	
 	â€œRandolph?â€ said Fence, less sharply than he had spoken to Ted. 
 	â€œ â€™Tis a true account,â€ said Randolph; his eyes on Matthew were speculative. He seemed to be recovering. 
 	â€œOne thing other,â€ said Matthew, stil looking at Fence. â€œWhen Randolph did spil the wine, it put Andrew into a most fierce choler.â€​par 	â€œWhat said he?â€​emanded Fence. 
 	Matthew shrugged. â€œNaught,â€ he said. â€œHe turned color and clenched his hands.â€​par 	â€œYes, he did,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œRandolph?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œI saw not,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Fence and Matthew looked at one another, but no one said anything. Randolph put a hand on Fenceâ€™s arm, and Fence and he helped each other up. 
 	â€œDidst thou drink?â€​ence asked him. 
 	â€œThe servant drinks not,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s 
 	mercy,â€ 
 	said 
 	Fence 
 	suddenly, 
 	â€œwhere is Benjamin?â€​par 	â€œHe came not,â€​aid Randolph, sounding surprised. 
 	So thatâ€™s why my chair was empty, thought Ted, we were missing one. I never even noticed. Benjamin was supposed to be here, too. He makes a speech and says â€œAlasâ€​ lot. 
 	Fence closed his eyes and let his breath out. â€œOne must tel him,â€​e said. 
 	Randolph was beginning to look sick again. Serve you right, thought Ted. Maybe nobody else cared about the King: Matthew and Conrad had seemed more worried about Randolph, but Benjamin did care. And Randolph did, of course, crazy as that seemed. That was why he was so upset. Ted wished his mind would start working normal y again. 
 	â€œIâ€™l doâ€™t,â€ said Randolph: he sounded exactly as Tedâ€™s father had when it had been necessary to put one of their dogs to sleep. 
 	â€œMeanwhile,â€ said Matthew, a little shakily, â€œthe council lords fume and fret.â€​par 	â€œLet Agatha examine them,â€ said Fence. This startled Ted considerably, but nobody remarked on it. 
 	Fence regarded Matthew for a moment longer, and added, â€œAnd do you take it down, an it please you.â€​par 	â€œIt wil be long ere aught pleaseth me,â€ said Matthew, as if he were quoting something, and he went out. 
 	â€œâ€™Tis Benjamin should attend the King,â€ said Fence to Randolph. â€œWe wil stay â€™til you find him.â€​par 	Randolph looked down at the King. â€œA wil stay â€™til we come,â€​e said, and went away. 
 	Ted and Fence stood in the darkening room. Its candles were al out. Fence was wearing his wizardâ€™s robe, and its curious twinings glowed and pulsed. Ted looked away from them to the King, and went to the window. He could not seem to stop shaking, and the air coming through the window, though damp, was warmer than the room. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence. â€œConfusion now hath made his masterpiece. Say you stil that Randolphâ€™s hand is in this?â€​par 	
 	â€œI donâ€™t see how he could have done it, Fence,â€
 	said Ted, truthful y enough. â€œI was watching him every minute.â€​par 	â€œMy mind tends to Andrew,â€ said Fence, â€œbut that is for a mere dislike; and he was in favor; why would a cutâ€™s own throat?â€​par 	â€œCould it have been a mistake?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œI would I had been here,â€ said Fence. There was a silence. â€œAnd I am remiss,â€ he added. Ted turned around. Fence had stooped over the King and raised the blue cloth. Ted was just as pleased to be unable to see what he was doing. 
 	â€œDear heaven,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThis is the very smel of sorcery.â€​par 	Oh, of course. But Edward would be surprised. 
 	 â€œWhat?â€​ said Ted. 
 	â€œThis is not a natural poison. It cannot be got save by sorcery.â€ Fence let the cloth fal from his hand and stood up. â€œConrad, Matthew, Andrew, Randolph,â€ he said. 
 	â€œAl had a chance at cup or bottle; and al have dabbled save Andrew.â€​par 	â€œHis sister could have made it for him,â€ said Ted, viciously. 
 	â€œSo she could,â€ said Fence. He joined Ted at the window. â€œOr, think you, to Randolph?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted. â€œWhen he spil ed the wine, I gave him a different cup, and I was right next to him the whole time. Besides,â€ added Ted, thinking that a little truth could do no harm, â€œhe was very cheerful while we were setting the table.â€ He had become cheerful after seeing the spiderweb in the cupboard, whatever that meant. 
 	â€œAnd Andrew was marvelous distempered at the spil ing of the wine?â€​par 	â€œYes, marvelous.â€​par 	â€œNow thou hast seen the deed, thou hast less stomach for the thought that Randolph did doâ€™t?â€ said Fence, belaboring the point as was his occasional regrettable habit. Ted remembered the scolding Laura, Patrick, and El en had gotten for disobeying Fenceâ€™s orders, the night Claudia came up the stairs to Fenceâ€™s tower with a sorcerous knife in her hand. Arguing had done them no good; Randolph had shut Fence up eventual y. Ted was silent. Fence put an arm around his shoulders, and a little of his stil ness had seeped into Ted when Randolph came back with Benjamin. They had brought two torches. 
 	Randolph stil looked sick. He stayed by the door, leaning on the wal next to the bracket he had slid the torch into. 
 	Benjaminâ€™s face, as he stared at the disordered room and the body of the King, was stunned and furious. Fence came away from the window, almost dragging Ted with him. 
 	Benjamin stooped over the King as Fence had done, and grief began to overtake the fury on his face. Then he started, and sniffed the air, and looked up at Fence. 
 	â€œAye,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œSo Melanie haunts us stil ,â€ said Benjamin. He kissed the Kingâ€™s forehead, and looked at Fence again. 
 	Ted braced himself for the alas-speech; he had a horrible feeling that he might laugh. 
 	â€œThe bright day is done,â€ said Benjamin, as if Fence were personal y responsible, â€œand we are for the dark.â€​par 	â€œSee to thy torches, then,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Benjamin seemed a little taken aback; then, shocking Ted, he laughed. â€œAye,â€ he said. â€œFire is the test of gold.â€ He stood up and looked at Ted. â€œA was better pleased wiâ€™ thee these last weeks,â€ he said. He put his head out the door. â€œBear him away,â€​e said. 
 	Four women Ted had never seen before came in and did so. 
 	Benjamin looked at Ted again. â€œLeave al the rest to me,â€​e said, and went after them. 
 	â€œWel , my lord,â€ said Fence to Ted. â€œyou cannot have a council whilst your lords are penned with an inquisitor, but by your gracious wil Lord Randolph and I might impart to you what we these six months have done.â€​par 	â€œOnly if you promise not to go on talking like that,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	â€œWhile we are private I wil not,â€ said Fence. He sat down in Andrewâ€™s chair and fished a map from the folds of his robe. â€œRandolph,â€ he said, without looking up, â€œwhere is the Book of King John?â€​par 	â€œIn Matthewâ€™s chamber,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œFence. What of the children?â€​par 	Â 
 	The other four children had gathered in El en and Lauraâ€™s room. They sat, fidgeting and squabbling, on the bed with its green quilt. Around them the white horses raced unregarded across the green tapestries; the black cat slept on El enâ€™s discarded yel ow dress. Outside above the shadowy mountains the western sky grew prickled over with stars as some wind from lands they had never seen pushed the clouds over High Castle, south and west to the domains of the Dragon King. This same wind faltered in through the unglazed window, whose shutters no one had thought to close, and tipped the flames of the lamps a little sideways. Only Laura, careful y staying out of the argument, noticed any of these things. 
 	El en wanted to go listen at the door of the Council Room, but had been prevented by Ruth. Laura was not sure what she thought of Ruth these days. She had taken to wearing long white dresses, staring abstractedly into space when you were talking to her, and using her sorcerous voice for trivial things like tel ing El en that her hair ribbon did not match her dress. She was tal er than ever, and wore her hair tightly braided and wound around her head, which made her look much less like El en and entirely too grown-up. 
 	â€œI guess weâ€™l know if anything went wrong,â€ said El en, 
 	resigning 
 	herself. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™l 
 	al 
 	shout
 	â€˜reason!â€™ â€​par 	â€œEven if they did we wouldnâ€™t be able to hear it over here,â€ said Patrick. â€œItâ€™s probably half a mile to the Council Room.â€​par 	â€œMatthew has to come right by here to get Agatha,â€
 	said El en. â€œSo she can lay the King out.â€​par 	â€œWhy should she hit him when heâ€™s dead?â€ said Laura, despite her resolutions. It did not matter in the slightest, of course, because nobody paid any attention. 
 	â€œFence has to come tel us if the Kingâ€™s dead,â€
 	said Ruth to El en, patiently. â€œHeâ€™s Patrickâ€™s father and our uncle.â€​par 	â€œHe is not,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThe King is,â€​aid Ruth, less patiently. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s do something,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œLike what?â€​aid Patrick. â€œPlay hopscotch?â€​par 	â€œI could read aloud,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œCan you read that stuff?â€​sked Laura. 
 	â€œSure,â€ said Ruth. She picked up the book she had brought with her, a shabby affair with a much-scored leather binding, and opened it. â€œBut King John,â€ she read, â€œhad been raised by an old country woman, and he knew the ways of monsters. So when theâ€”â€​par 	â€œOh, donâ€™t!â€ said El en. â€œI canâ€™t stand hearing any more about King John. I wish weâ€™d never invented him. And thatâ€™s dumb.  Why should a king be raised by an old country woman?â€​par 	Ruth was exasperated, but she was interrupted before she could express herself. Fence came into the room without knocking. They al gaped at him. He was very stil and remote; only the curling starry lines on his robe moved a little as the lamplight caught them. 
 	Fence looked at them for a moment as they sat and sprawled on the bed. Then he came across the room in a flurry of stars and put his hand on Patrickâ€™s head. 
 	Patrick looked at him as if he were the worst part of a horror movie; except that horror movies never bothered Patrick. 
 	â€œThy royal fatherâ€™s dead,â€​aid Fence. 
 	He appeared braced for hysteria; they simply stared at him. Laura was supposed to throw herself into his arms and howl, but she could not do it. 
 	â€œI knew it,â€​uttered Patrick. 
 	Fence took his hand from Patrickâ€™s head and examined him much as he had examined Claudiaâ€™s knife. â€œDid you so?â€​e said. 
 	Patrick stood up and looked him straight in the face. 
 	â€œTed told me what he thought.â€​par 	â€œHe does not think it now,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Ruth was the first to recol ect her part. Glaring at Patrick, she said, in strained tones. â€œWhat happened? I didnâ€™t know his Majesty was unwel .â€​par 	â€œHe was not,â€ said Fence. He looked around at them again, and seemed to abandon whatever gentle measures he had settled on, in the face of their abnormal calm. 
 	â€œThe King was poisoned,â€ he said, â€œwith a sorcerous brew.â€​par 	He went on looking at them, and they stared back. Laura thought again about howling, but she was shocked, not grieved. She wondered if Ted was kil ing Randolph yet. He had not wanted to; but he had not wanted Randolph to poison the King, either. So much for wishing on the Enchanted Forest, she thought. We unbroke the Crystal of Earth, but everything else is going to happen. 
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Patrick, â€œwho did it, then?â€​par 	Fence buried both hands in his robes, and his face, which had become more normal when their response perplexed him, turned remote again. â€œWe know not,â€​e said. 
 	â€œHeh,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	
 	â€œWhat we may discover, you and your brother the King shal know,â€ said Fence. Patrickâ€™s mouth fel open, which seemed to afford Fence a very dim and distant amusement, the way Lauraâ€™s father would sometimes smile when you told him a joke while he was reading. Fence addressed El en and Laura. â€œAgatha hath other business than you.â€​par 	â€œWe can put ourselves to bed,â€​aid El en. 
 	Fence 
 	regarded 
 	her 
 	with 
 	curiosity. 
 	â€œHow
 	commendable in you,â€​e said. 
 	El en, unaccustomed to sarcasm from this quarter, said, â€œNo, not at al ,â€ like a society lady, thought Laura. Then she looked appal ed. 
 	Patrick snickered, and Ruth pul ed his hair. He pushed her hand away. 
 	â€œCut it out!â€​e said. 
 	â€œChildren,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œIâ€™m sorry weâ€™re so unbecoming,â€ said Patrick, sourly. 
 	â€œSo am I,â€​aid Fence. 
 	They squirmed under his gaze, even Ruth, and looked at the floor. 
 	â€œWhatever wildness possesseth you,â€ said Fence at last, â€œtame it by tomorrow.â€​par 	â€œYou began it,â€ said Patrick, â€œmaking El ie look sil y.â€​par 	â€œAnd you shal end it,â€ said Fence. He turned and went from the room, closing the door behind him with a thud that missed being a slam but was not a neutral noise. 
 	
 	 â€œPatrick,â€​ said Ruth. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the use of playing any more?â€
 	demanded Patrick. â€œIt didnâ€™t work; the Kingâ€™s dead!â€​par 	â€œYou donâ€™t have to make Fence any more unhappy than he already is.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s not even real!â€​par 	Ruth picked up the skirts of her white dress and advanced on him. â€œDo you mean to tel me,â€ she said, â€œthat after al the things that have gone different and al the things that have gone wrong and even after this you can sit there and say this is al out of our own heads?â€​par 	â€œYes!â€ shouted Patrick, standing his piece of the floor defiantly. Ruth stopped coming toward him. â€œAnd the reason itâ€™s going wrong and different is that some of us are sick in the head!â€​par 	Laura would not have spoken for anything. There was a brief but profound silence. El en broke it by twisting around on the bed and regarding her brother as if he were a spider that she would have liked to step on had she not been afraid it would run up her leg. 
 	 â€œWho,â€​ she said ominously, sounding very like Ruth, â€œis sick?â€​par 	â€œTed and Ruth,â€ said Patrick. â€œAnd theyâ€™re the oldest, so you and Laura think whatever they say, and I canâ€™t do anything by myself to keep things straight.â€​par 	â€œWhy,â€​aid Ruth, in a flat tone, â€œare we sick.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re important here and you want to stay that way. So you want it to be real.â€​par 	
 	â€œWhy,â€ said Ruth, more angrily, â€œeven if thatâ€™s true, is it sick?â€​par 	â€œMegalomania,â€ said Patrick, scaring Laura; it sounded like some kind of cancer. 
 	â€œ Youâ€™re sick!â€ said El en. â€œYou think youâ€™re the only one who can be right, and weâ€™re al against you.â€​par 	â€œParanoia,â€ said Ruth, with a sort of melancholy pleasure in knowing the word. 
 	Laura knew that word herself, but she wasnâ€™t pleased. 
 	It was unwise to enter a family fight, but she was finding this one too much for her. 
 	â€œI think youâ€™re al horrible,â€ she said. â€œHow can you stand there and cal names whenâ€”â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t mean to cal names,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œI was trying to bring you to your senses so we can do something. Youâ€™re no use if you go on thinking this stuff is real.â€​par 	â€œWhat do you want to do?â€​sked Ruth. 
 	â€œGet out of here!â€​par 	â€œBut I need to see what happens! â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œFor Godâ€™s sake!â€ said Patrick. â€œThis isnâ€™t a book.â€​par 	â€œOh, no?â€ said Ruth. â€œI thought you said it wasnâ€™t real?â€​par 	It stil surprised Laura to see Patrick nonplussed. El en and Ruth looked at him with a tentative sort of triumph, as if they were quite sure they were right but expected him to come up with a slippery answer. 
 	
 	He had an answer, but it did not seem slippery to Laura. 
 	â€œItâ€™s happening to us,â€ he said. â€œIt isnâ€™t good for us. Itâ€™s going to hurt us,  and weâ€™re real.â€​par 	â€œWhy isnâ€™t it good for us?â€ demanded Ruth. 
 	â€œWhy shouldnâ€™t it teach us things and make us better people?â€​par 	â€œI guess thereâ€™s no reason it shouldnâ€™t,â€
 	said Patrick, â€œbut it isnâ€™t. Itâ€™s making al of youâ€”al of usâ€”unreasonable. And emotional and grumpy. 
 	And name-cal ing. And cal ous,â€ he added. â€œThe Kingâ€™s dead and El ie thinks heâ€™s real and sheâ€™s not even sorry, she just wants to hang around and see what else happens.â€​par 	â€œNow look,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œBe quiet,â€ said Ruth. She addressed Patrick. 
 	â€œLots of things that are good for the soul make people unreasonable.â€​par 	Patrick sat down on the bed in a despairing movement. 
 	â€œItâ€™s not good for the soul,â€ he said, â€œto think youâ€™re important when youâ€™re not.â€​par 	â€œSeems 
 	to 
 	me 
 	you 
 	think youâ€™re pretty
 	important,â€ said El en. â€œYou think you could make al this happen.â€​par 	â€œI think we could. And thatâ€™s not important, itâ€™s just normal imagination gone bad. Because it isnâ€™t happening, we justâ€”â€​par 	â€œWho made up Lady Claudia, then?â€​sked Ruth. 
 	â€œHow should I know? What with everybody running around making up just anything and not even tel ing anybody, somebody could have made her up and forgotten al about her. Or just decided she wasnâ€™t a good idea.â€​par 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t that decision stick, then?â€ asked Ruth. â€œSome of them did. Laura isnâ€™t a prince.â€​par 	â€œJust as wel ,â€ said Laura, briefly entertained. Real as everything here had always looked to her, right now she would be just as pleased if everythingâ€”even the unicornsâ€”were imaginary. â€œHey,â€ she said, recal ed, as always, to her primary problem in this country, â€œif itâ€™s al in our heads, why canâ€™t I ride a horse like we said I could?â€​par 	â€œBecause you think itâ€™s real.â€​par 	â€œSo what? If the Kingâ€™s real, why canâ€™t me riding horses be real, too?â€​par 	â€œBecause you know you canâ€™t!â€​par 	â€œI knew the King wasnâ€™t real, too, before we got here,â€​aid Laura. 
 	Patrick seemed to be struggling with another way to make his point, and there was a pause during which El en fel asleep on Ruthâ€™s knee. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t real y care,â€ Ruth said suddenly to Patrick, â€œwhat you think, but I would appreciate it if you would act as though this were real. It seems to me, since youâ€™re in no danger of thinking youâ€™re important, that you have less to lose by acting as if this were real, even if it isnâ€™t, than you would have by acting as if it werenâ€™t real, when it was.â€​par 	Laura and Patrick looked at her in astonishment. This was a far better Lady Ruth than she had ever achieved, even at the height of her acting. 
 	â€œSince you wonâ€™t pay any attention to my arguments anyway,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s right.â€​par 	â€œI guess so,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œThank you.â€​par 	â€œWhat do we do now?â€​sked Laura. 
 	â€œGo to bed, I think,â€​aid Ruth, looking at El en. 
 	â€œShouldnâ€™t we wait for Ted?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think,â€ said Ruth, â€œthat Ted is going to feel like talking to anybody.â€​par 	Â 
 	In the clear gray morning, Fence, Ted, and Randolph straightened their backs and rubbed their eyes. The whole long council table was littered with books and maps and scribbled bits of parchment. The candles were pools in the bottoms of their holders. Ted felt like a pool in his chair. If he had not been exhausted he would have been terrified. He did not understand a third of what he had been told. He had never been fond of military history; what he liked were the tactics of single fights, like the one Prince Edward was supposed to have with Lord Randolph in the rose garden. 
 	Even if he had known about battles he would have been bewildered by the peculiar blend of normal and magical fighting that Fence and Randolph seemed to think the best way to manage things. 
 	He had gathered something of the magnitude of their problem. Fence and Randolph, for al their youth, seemed to know a great deal about the art of war. Precepts, examples from history, episodes from their own experience, came easily to their tongues. But half their wel -taught and successful y exercised theories foundered on the rock of sorcery. Neither of them had ever fought a sorcerous battle. 
 	Fence was a sorcerer, but not in the school of the Dragon King. He did not know, and apparently neither did anybody else, by what principles the Dragon King ordered his powers. He did not know his enemy; and that, said Randolph, somewhere in the cold dregs of the night, was the first rule of war. 
 	â€œWhat about al those spies?â€​ed asked. 
 	â€œKing John says,â€ said Fence, â€œthat of the information your spies gather about a sorcerous opponent, it is necessary to discount half.â€​par 	â€œWhich half, he saith not,â€ said Randolph. He was stil pale, and there were two lines of pain or weariness between his eyebrows; but he smiled at Fence with al his old charm, and Ted saw that this was an old argument between them. 
 	â€œIndeed he does,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œAh,â€ said Randolph, â€œbut which half one cannot tel until one hath the whole; and we have not the whole.â€​par 	â€œWe were not permitted it,â€ said Fence, not smiling at al ; and Ted knew he spoke of the King. 
 	As they talked on, and the west wind drove the clouds over the plain and the huge stars of the Secret Country bloomed from the clearing sky, Ted found that those precepts rescued from the rock of sorcery would drown in the whirlpool of what ought to have been the Secret Countryâ€™s greatest strength: the Border Magic. To meet your enemy before he was ready, on ground of your choosing; to attack him in his weak places, so that he must abandon his strong ones to defend them; to feint back and forth over large stretches of ground until you had exhausted himâ€”al these things would give you the victory. But because of the Border Magic, the armies of the Secret Country could do none of them. 
 	If an army of enemies set foot in the Secret Country, the Secret Country would become a wasteland. Wherefore those wishing to defend it must fight its enemies where its enemies chose to gather. It was true that the Border Magic defeated from the start al those whose intent was to own the Secret Country, to live in it, to useful y occupy it in any way. 
 	But the Border Magic opened up vast new opportunities for the vengeful, the mischievous, the malicious. The Dragon King, by al accounts, was al three. And King John had nothing to say about the Border Magic, because the Border Magic had been contrived after his time. 
 	â € œ W h o by? â€ 
 	asked 
 	Ted, 
 	with 
 	considerable
 	resentment. This was not so much for the contriver as for the ruthless manner in which his own invention, of which he and Patrick had been so proud, had been logical y dismantled and shown to be like a badly thrown boomerang, that not only recoils upon its wielder, but smacks him in the forehead and leaves him helpless in the hands of his enemies. 
 	Fence shut King Johnâ€™s Book and pushed his damp, flattened hair out of his eyes. His round face was a little sunken; Ted could see the line of his cheekbone, and realized with a lurch of the heart that in some curious and sidelong way, Fence looked like Claudia. 
 	â€œBy the unicorns,â€ said Fence, â€œand by the Outside Powers. The Outside Powers owed the unicorns a boon, and this was what the unicorns asked of them.â€​par 	
 	â€œA joke, then,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œPerhaps. Or in part.â€​par 	Ted stood up and stretched. â€œFence,â€ he said, â€œif King Johnâ€™s Book is so little use, why did you make such a fuss about using it?â€​par 	â€œIt had been of far greater use,â€ said Randolph out of the depths of his chair, â€œhad we been free to gather intel igence as it bade us during these months the Dragon King hath stumbled about our borders like a cow with the staggers.â€​par 	Fence chuckled. â€œWel , I gathered some little store. 
 	And we are free now to gather what we may,â€ he said. 
 	â€œEdward. We stray from our path. Randolph, the map.â€​par 	Now they were silent, and the first thoughtful murmur of awakening birds came in the windows with a stir of morning air. Ted resigned himself to a blind trust in his counselors, and looked at the two of them. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence to Randolph, â€œwhen wil we march?â€​par 	â€œShould we not have the coronation before the battle?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™d rather not,â€ said Ted, unable to be as blind as he would have liked. 
 	â€œThat is not the question,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œI, too, had rather not,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Randolph frowned at him. 
 	â€œThere is no time,â€ said Fence, â€œand it is not necessary.â€​par 	
 	â€œNo?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œMore men believe in the Book of King John than in the speeches of Lord Andrew.â€​par 	â€œThink you not,â€ said Randolph, with some difficulty, â€œthat to delay the coronation would make men to think we had doubts of the Prince in this matter of the poisoning?â€​par 	â€œTo hasten the coronation and damage the war thereby,â€ said Fence, â€œwould make them to think we had doubts of the Regent.â€​par 	â€œAnd is doubt of the Regent more damageful than doubt of the Prince?â€​par 	â€œThat is not the question,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œNo?â€ said Randolph again. He raised an eyebrow at Ted. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Ted, â€œeverybody knows whoâ€™s real y fighting this war. And everybody has doubts of me anyway.â€​par 	â€œDoubts of your skil perhaps,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œThat is nothing. It is the question of who did the murder. 
 	If you are not crowned it wil be said we think you did it.â€​par 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence, â€œI tel you there is no time.â€​par 	Randolph put the flat of one hand to his forehead and squinted at the opposite wal . â€œThere is,â€ he said. 
 	â€œWe cannot leave here before seven days; we must bury the King; Edward must cal a council; and we must col ect those troops the King did not make ready. We must wait for Chryse; we must raise Belaparthalion. Our last reports show the Dragon King stil but distant.â€​par 	
 	â€œShanâ€™s 
 	mercy,â€ 
 	said 
 	Fence. 
 	â€œThe
 	coronation of Wil iam was months in the making.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t want a lot of fuss,â€ said Ted hastily. 
 	What Randolph wanted did, at least, fit in with their bedraggled story. It was as King of the Secret Country that Edward had visited the land of the dead. 
 	Fenceâ€™s mouth quirked. â€œVery wel ,â€​e said. 
 	â€œCould I ask you,â€ said Ted, â€œto cal the council and arrange about the funeral?â€​par 	â€œRandolph shal cal the council,â€ said Fence; â€œlet him have his duties for the short space left him. 
 	Iâ€™l speak to Benjamin touching the funeral.â€​par 	â€œThank you,â€​aid Ted. 
 	He climbed the cold stairs to his room. Patrick was sound asleep. Ted crawled into bed and lay shivering for a while. 
 	When he fel asleep he dreamed vaguely of a herd of unicorns gal oping into a purple lake while al the stars fel into it and sent it smoking into the sky. He also dreamed that he was trying to paint this scene, which seemed no more unusual to him than a good sunset, and was vexed because he could not get the right shade of purple. 
 	
 CHAPTER 5

 	IT rained when they buried the King. It had rained al night. It was raining when Agatha woke Laura and El en at the hideous hour of five and made them dress in black. It was raining when El en discovered that they would get no breakfast until after the ceremony, said â€œShanâ€™s mercy! â€​n front of Agatha, and was slapped for it. 
 	It rained on their procession as it wound its way through the stony woods, until everyone was as black and shiny as the trunks of the trees. El en stopped being furious long enough to whisper to Laura, â€œThey look like the trees walking.â€ Laura stopped being shocked long enough to wish El en had not said it. The slosh and drip of foot and hoof and leaf sounded very like the noise a tree might make walking in the wet woods. 
 	The further they went, the less Laura liked it. She final y woke up enough to wonder why, and raised her dripping head to see the gate she had left open when she walked out of her own time and met the unicorns. It was not open now. 
 	Laura realized that, unless somebody had come al the way out here, found the gate open, shut it, and not raised a fuss back at High Castle, she had not been here yet. She felt a qualm almost as strong as the one made by Agathaâ€™s slapping El en. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s not go,â€​he mouthed to El en. 
 	El enâ€™s face lit up, and then she closed her mouth on a laugh and shook her head. Laura looked around and saw Agatha trudging on the other side of Ruth and watching them over Ruthâ€™s head. She would have sworn herself, if she had dared. She had almost gotten used to things, but now that the King was dead, everything else looked likely to be awful, and again she wanted to go home. 
 	They slipped and scrambled up the hil . Laura looked for the flowers bordering the path, but there were only round gray stones. 
 	The bril iant green of the grass inside the wal was even more startling in this rain than it had been when Laura first saw it. There were fewer flowers on the gravestones, but there seemed to be as many gravestones. Laura fol owed the others to the clump of people around the new grave. 
 	â€œOh, no,â€ she said. It was the newer grave she had walked around before. She had stood over the dead King and not even known it. Not for the first time since they came to this country, she felt that she was being laughed at. 
 	â€œHere, child,â€​aid Agathaâ€™s voice. 
 	Laura blinked upward into the rain, and took the bunch of flowers Agatha handed her. They were of six or seven different kinds, but al yel ow. The only ones she recognized were the dandelions. Agatha gave El en a bunch of purple flowers, and Ruth a bunch of red ones, and Matthew a bunch of white. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s this for?â€ said El en to Laura; her voice was low, because of Agatha, but held a wealth of scorn. 
 	Laura had no idea, and shrugged. 
 	â€œItâ€™s part of the burial custom,â€ said Ruth, joining them. â€œEverybody gets a bunch of a different color, and when the ceremonyâ€™s over, we throw them over the grave and they al mix together. Itâ€™s symbolic, but I canâ€™t remember what of.â€​par 	
 	â€œDid you make it up?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œTed and I did,â€ said Ruth, â€œbut it was a long time ago.â€​par 	â€œWhere is Ted?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThey made him help carry the coffin, him and Patrick,â€ said El en. She bestowed a clinical glance upon her bouquet. â€œViolets,â€ she said. â€œWood gentians. 
 	Hey, whatâ€™s this?â€​par 	â€œShhh,â€ said Laura; Agatha was passing their way, and gave them a quel ing glance. But she did not stop. She took Matthew, who looked strange without his cheerful expression, his wild red hair flattened and darkened with rain, by the arm, and moved him toward the grave. 
 	â€œWho does she think she is?â€​emanded El en. 
 	â€œWhoever it is, Matthew thinks so, too,â€ said Ruth. 
 	Matthew had smiled and bent down from his considerably greater height to say something to Agatha. 
 	â€œShe canâ€™t be just a nurse,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNobodyâ€™s just anything around here,â€ grumbled El en. â€œLook at Benjamin.â€​par 	â€œI think the cooks are just cooks,â€​ffered Laura. 
 	â€œNo, they arenâ€™t,â€ said Ruth. â€œTwo of them are ahead of me in sorcerous training.â€​par 	â€œMaybe she was his nurse, too,â€ said El en, looking after Matthew and Agatha. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s not old enough,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	A hand came down on Lauraâ€™s head, gently, but she jumped. She looked up; it was at Randolph. 
 	
 	â€œItâ€™s time, I fear,â€​e said. 
 	He looked, in his black clothes, as if he had been bleached, and there were lines around his eyes that had not been there the last time she saw him. Laura had once tripped over her motherâ€™s sprained ankle, and her mother had looked like that for a few seconds. But Randolph went on looking like that as he spoke again. Laura felt a desperate and foolish desire to give him some aspirin. 
 	â€œThose closest to him must gather around the grave,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œI never even talked to him,â€ said Laura, fol owing him nonetheless. 
 	Randolph turned around so suddenly that she almost fel into him, and took her by the hands. â€œIt is too late for many things,â€ he said, bewildering her; and he kept hold of one of the hands and took her along with him. 
 	â€œHe means by blood,â€​aid El en in Lauraâ€™s ear. 
 	Randolph made room for them between Fence and Matthew. Across the gaping grave Laura saw Ted and Patrick; Ted looked miserable, and Patrick disgusted. Both of them were wet, and very red in the face. The coffin must have been heavy. 
 	Laura had intended not to look at the coffin, but it was so unlike what she expected that she looked at it before she knew what it was. It was a sturdy box of pale wood, spattered with rain, the running fox inlaid on the top, and a scrol of flowers, and the peculiar animals they had seen before. It was, even to someone who had been living among the beautiful things of High Castle for two months, a lovely object: Laura found herself wanting it for a moment, and then shivered. 
 	
 	â€œWil you look at that!â€​issed El en. 
 	â€œI did,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œLook at the side, not the top.â€​par 	Laura did. There, once more, in greater detail and richer color, was the story of the young man, the wizard, and the animals that they had seen on the tapestry, on Fenceâ€™s dishes, and on various doors. Only the first four panels of the tapestry were on this side of the coffin. On the far right the cat and the young man with decided eyebrows were, respectively, washing and feeding the dog. 
 	â€œWhy couldnâ€™t we have been on the other side?â€
 	raged El en under her breath. 
 	â€œI thought you were tired of that story.â€​par 	â€œI want to see which last panel it is, the hole or the sun.â€​par 	â€œTed and Patrick can see it.â€​par 	â€œOnly if they have the sense to look.â€​par 	â€œStare at them,â€​aid Laura, hopeful y. 
 	She and El en opened their eyes as wide as they could and gazed earnestly through the misty rain at Ted and Patrick. 
 	Randolph came around behind Ted and began talking to him. Laura forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Ted kept shaking his head, and Randolph looked as if he would have liked to shake Ted. This argument eventual y attracted Patrickâ€™s attention, and at Lauraâ€™s side El en gave a martyred sigh. 
 	â€œMaybe I could find whoever made the thing,â€ she said. 
 	â€œI wonder what Randolph wants?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œMilady Laura,â€ said Fence over El enâ€™s head, â€œof your courtesy, hold your tongue.â€​par 	Laura looked up at him reproachful y. It was El enâ€™s fault they were talking, but no grown-up, even Fence, would ever bother to find out something like that before he yel ed at you. Fenceâ€™s mouth quirked. 
 	â€œâ€™Tis not the speech, but its substance, that I pray thee keep thy tongue from,â€​e said. 
 	Laura, having puzzled this out, was too astonished even to smile at him. 
 	â€œHush,â€ said Fence, looking over her head and across the grave at Randolph. â€œWe begin. 
 	Randolph, standing with his hands in the sleeves of his black robe and his hair dripping into his eyes, had managed by merely looking the crowd over to make them be quiet and watch him. 
 	â€œServants, friends, and lovers,â€ he said; and like the Kingâ€™s, his voice carried although he did not raise it. 
 	â€œWe are foregathered to bid farewel to Wil iam, Celia and Conradâ€™s son, who hath served, befriended, and loved us these fifty years.â€​par 	â€œFifty-two,â€​aid El en in Lauraâ€™s ear. 
 	Fence moved from beside her to stand with Randolph. 
 	Laura kept her eyes determinedly from his robe. Randolph asked him a question; he answered it with a short speech; Randolph asked him another; he answered it briefly. 
 	Laura gaped at them. She could not understand a word they were saying, and yet she almost did. It was like a conversation to which she was not paying attention; if she stopped reading and listened, she would be able to understand perfectly. Their voices held a ritual intonation which made it obvious that this was the ceremony, and not some consultation about details. The rain fel down their faces. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™re they saying?â€ whispered El en. Laura shrugged, and looked across the grave at Ted and Patrick. 
 	Patrickâ€™s face was perplexed, and Tedâ€™s resigned. 
 	Laura glanced around at Ruth, who was frowning. 
 	Everybody else was listening with a serious face; Laura could tel from an occasional nod or grimace or smile that the real inhabitants of the Secret Country had no trouble fol owing the service. 
 	After perhaps fifteen minutes of this, during which a number of people began blinking and sniffling, and Laura watched Ted and Patrick fidget, Randolph bowed to Fence and stepped back. Fence, in his fantastic robe, knelt on the sodden ground and picked up a handful of mud. 
 	â€œIn the tradition of John, by the mercy granted to Shan, in accordance with the laws of the Hidden Land,â€ he said, and slapped the mud onto the gorgeous top of the coffin. 
 	Laura watched him stand up, half expecting the mud to rol off his robe as if the robe were made of some new miracle fabric. But it was stained and wet, and remained so; and a fugitive gleam from a star half-muddied caught and held her eye. She saw Tedâ€™s face, covered with blood, as she had seen it before. But this time the view was wider; Ted lay on the bare and dusty ground with a great blot of blood across his chest, and Randolph knelt over him with a despairing expression. Behind them the sky was hot and empty. Lauraâ€™s gaze jerked involuntarily to the real Randolph, who had come forward to hand Fence a bunch of flowers. When she looked back at the robe it was only a robe. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​issed El en. 
 	â€œJust a minute,â€ said Laura, staring hopeful y at the stars. Nothing happened. 
 	Randolph made a gesture with his hand, and Benjamin came out of the crowd. His eyes were red, but his face was impassive. He looked around the crowd for a moment, and final y took Ted by the arm and drew him over to Randolph. 
 	Randolph touched Fence on the arm, and Fence shook his head. Randolph jerked his head at Conrad. Fence went back to stand by Patrick, and the four others, Randolph, Ted, Benjamin, and Conrad, took hold of the ropes around the coffin and lowered it into the grave. 
 	Laura heard a muffled sound beside her, and saw that Agatha was crying. Laura had not quite forgiven her for slapping El en, but she felt so guilty for not crying herself that she patted Agatha on the arm. 
 	When the coffin came to rest it made a mushy, sucking thud that sent shivers through Laura, and she saw Ted blanch. Randolph picked up another handful of mud and dropped it into the hole. He looked almost as unhappy as Ted. Conrad and Benjamin and Ted in turn dropped a handful of earth and stepped backward. 
 	Then the whole crowd pushed forward, and the air was ful of flowers. Laura flung hers with abandon, and they landed at Randolphâ€™s feet. Laura froze, her hand stil out. 
 	Randolph froze for a moment himself; but then he bowed to her, scooped up the flowers, and scattered them across the grave with a gesture that was like a salute. Laura grinned at him in her relief, but he did not smile back. 
 	â€œFor shame, child,â€ said Agatha, her voice stil shaky. 
 	Laura promptly lost sympathy for her. 
 	Benjamin and Conrad had fetched shovels from somewhere, and began fil ing in the grave. Laura saw Patrick eye-ing the shovels, and guessed that they must be different in some way from ordinary ones. But they looked like shovels to her. 
 	The pressure of the crowd was forcing her away from the side of the grave, and she was just as pleased to go. El en squelched up beside her, indignant. 
 	â€œThey should have put the flowers on top of the dirt,â€
 	she said. â€œThis way theyâ€™re just wasted.â€ Her hair was so wet that it lay flat on her head, and she did not look like herself. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s flowers on the other graves,â€ said Laura. â€œMaybe they put more on later.â€​par 	â€œThey stil wasted the ones in there.â€​par 	â€œI wonder if Ted and Patrick saw the other side of the coffin,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œAnd thatâ€™s another thing,â€​ourned El en. â€œIt was so pretty; why did they have to bury it?â€​par 	â€œMilady,â€ said Fence, behind them, â€œthat you might remember that what they buried with it was infinitely more precious.â€​par 	El en and Laura both jumped, and El en was silent. Fence went ahead of them through the gate and was submerged by the crowd. 
 	It began to rain harder, and by the time they were halfway back to High Castle, the path had turned into a stream on which six-inch dol s could have canoed with great danger. 
 	Laura had scorned dol s for a long time; they were not nearly as exciting as playing the Secret Country with her cousins and brother. Now she wondered if she had made a mistake. 
 	Even if al your dol s came alive and began walking about, they could hardly land you in a situation like this one. She was soaking wet, and every now and then a branch would whack her in the face. She had the distinct impression that the forest was troubling them for their presumption in walking through it. She felt put upon and profoundly depressed because she was not unhappy enough about the King. El en was brooding too, probably because Fence had scolded her. 
 	â€œThat was a sil y funeral,â€ she informed Laura as they came through the clearing where they had feasted after the Unicorn Hunt. Laura thought of the exuberant people in their red and green; of the humorous, catlike stare of the unicorn; of the long head and gossamer mane laid like an apron in El enâ€™s lap. She said nothing, but fol owed the black-clad horde over Conradâ€™s Bridge and through the garden gate. 
 	â€œMaybe itâ€™d have been better if we could have understood what they were saying,â€​he ventured. 
 	â€œWel , it was stupid that we couldnâ€™t,â€ retorted El en. 
 	Agatha caught them just inside the South Door and told them to go change for the feast. They dripped upstairs. 
 	â€œWhoever heard of a feast after a funeral?â€
 	
 	demanded El en, her head in their wardrobe. 
 	â€œFuneral baked meats,â€​aid Laura, foggily. 
 	â€œHeh,â€​aid El en. 
 	They had a brief argument over what to wear; their only black dresses were the sodden ones they had on. El en favored white, and Laura yel ow. 
 	â€œWe donâ€™t have to dress alike al the time, you know,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIt makes me feel safer,â€ said Laura. â€œBesides, Agatha thinks itâ€™s cute.â€​par 	â€œSo what?â€​par 	â€œI think sheâ€™s less trouble when she thinks weâ€™re cute.â€​par 	â€œSheâ€™d be less trouble if she was at the bottom of the moat,â€​rumbled El en. 
 	Laura stared at her, and felt a mischievous impulse. 
 	â€œHow do you know?â€ she said. â€œHave you ever known anybody at the bottom of a moat?â€​par 	El en threw a white dress at her. â€œCome on,â€ she said, â€œbefore they eat everything.â€​par 	Ruth, also in a white dress, met them at the door and dragged them briskly through the crowd to a corner, where they found Ted, Patrick, and an enormous col ection of food. 
 	Ted and Patrick wore their usual dark-blue tunics, and Laura could see that they had been wearing these particular ones for longer than Agatha would like, if she found out. 
 	â€œWe have to decide what weâ€™re doing,â€ Ted told them. 
 	
 	â€œFirst,â€ said El en, â€œI want to ask you boys something. Did you look at your side of the coffin?â€​par 	â€œIt had that same story on it,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œBut was it the sun or the hole, at the end?â€​par 	Ted and Patrick looked at one another, and shook their heads. 
 	â€œThe last panel wasnâ€™t on our side,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œThe last one we had was the young wizard pointing his staff at the hole.â€​par 	â€œIt couldnâ€™t be there, El ie,â€ said Patrick, with the patience that was far more exasperating than derision. 
 	â€œThat tapestry had nine panels, and there were only four on each side of the coffin. Four and four isâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhat about the end?â€​par 	â€œFlowers,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	El en made an inarticulate growling noise and chomped into a chicken drumstick. 
 	â€œAnyway,â€ said Ted, â€œwe have to decide what to do.â€​e pushed his damp hair out of his face. 
 	â€œWhy donâ€™t you get your hair cut?â€ said Laura wickedly. 
 	â€œTomorrow is the coronation,â€ said Ted, taking no notice. â€œThe day after thatâ€™s a council, where we make final battle plans, and have some sort of hearing about the Kingâ€™s death, and then we run around for three days doing this and that, and then we march.â€​par 	â€œDo girls get to go?â€​emanded El en. 
 	Ted looked taken aback. â€œI never thought of that,â€ he said. â€œRuthie has to or she canâ€™t do her sorcery on me.â€​par 	â€œWhy her, when there are so many better ones?â€
 	said El en. 
 	â€œGreen Caves sorcerers donâ€™t go to war,â€ said Ruth slowly. She looked suddenly frightened. 
 	â€œSo why did Lady Ruth go?â€​ed asked her. 
 	El en snickered. â€œProbably because sheâ€™s in love with Edward. You dress in menâ€™s array, Ruthie, and quickly heal his wounds.â€​par 	â€œAnd you and Laurie can dress in menâ€™s array and carry the bandages,â€ said Ruth, absently; she stil seemed worried. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l carry your books of sorcery,â€ offered El en. 
 	â€œSpeak for yourself,â€ said Laura, who had no desire to go to a battle if she could avoid it. 
 	Ted sighed. â€œIf weâ€™re al going,â€ he said, â€œand if we can get the swords back from Fence, then we could make a break for it when we pass the Wel and the House.â€​par 	There was a long silence. The clatter of tongues and dishes surrounded them. Laura looked out across the crowd and saw Randolph, stil in his black clothes, talking to Claudia. Claudia wore red, as always, and the smile she was turning on Randolph made Lauraâ€™s stomach cold. 
 	 â€œTed!â€​ she said. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s been out for a couple of days now,â€ said Ted. â€œI forgot to mention it.â€​par 	
 	â€œYou are crazy,â€​aid El en. 
 	Laura privately agreed with this. Ruth said nothing, but now she looked terrified. 
 	â€œShe wasnâ€™t at the funeral, was she?â€ said Laura. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re getting off the subject,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œDo we want to make a break for it?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said El en. â€œIf I do get to go to the battle, maybe I can final y do something besides flounce around in fril y dresses and eat.â€​par 	â€œYou captured the unicorn,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	El en was silent. 
 	â€œIt seems to me,â€ said Ted, â€œthat the only good we could have done around here was to keep Randolph from kil ing the King, and we didnâ€™t, so we might as wel go home now. Randolph can run the war better than Edward, let alone me. They donâ€™t need us.â€​par 	â€œWhoâ€™s going to be King, then?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œPatrickâ€™s next, but if heâ€™s gone, I donâ€™t know.â€​par 	â€œFence told us once,â€ said El en, scowling. 
 	â€œPatrick the elder. Anna. Justin the Younger. Who are al those people anyway? Iâ€™ve never met any of them.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re in Fenceâ€™s Country, I think,â€ said Ruth. â€œAnd Benjaminâ€™s here.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s not our problem whoâ€™l be King,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted. â€œMaybe itâ€™s our job to find the real Edward.â€​par 	Patrick opened his mouth, looked at Ruth, and took a bite of apple. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy,â€ said El en, â€œwe never thought of that.â€​par 	â€œEl ie, donâ€™t say that,â€ said Ted. â€œI think it means something.â€​par 	â€œWhen are we going to have time to find the real Edward?â€ said Ruth. â€œWe leave in less than a week. If Iâ€™m to get you back from the land of the dead, Iâ€™l have to study. Thatâ€™s advanced sorcery. I donâ€™t know anything about it except what El ie and I made up, and how do we know thatâ€™s right? I donâ€™t like this.â€​par 	â€œ You donâ€™t like it?â€ said Ted. â€œYou arenâ€™t the one going to be stuck down there with al the ghosts.â€​par 	â€œI used to be a ghost,â€ said El en wistful y. â€œThat was one of my favorite parts.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l let you know how you compare to the real thing,â€ said Ted tartly. â€œIf we do go through with this story and everything works out, the game ends after we get back from the battle and I kil Randolphâ€”which I wonâ€™tâ€”but anyway, the game is over then, so we should have more time to do things. We could look for Edward then. Iâ€™l be King: I could just order people to do whatever we think we need.â€​par 	Laura doubted this. She could not imagine Benjamin and Agatha meekly obeying Tedâ€™s orders, even if he were King. 
 	â€œIf you come back alive,â€​uttered Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œMaybe you wonâ€™t even get kil ed,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œSeems like nothing ever happens the way itâ€™s supposed to, unless we try to stop it.â€​par 	â€œYes, he wil ,â€ said Laura. Ted looked at her, and she swal owed. â€œAt the funeral, I saw it in Fenceâ€™s robe.â€​par 	â€œSaw what?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œYou were lying on the ground with blood al over your chest, and Randolph was looking unhappy.â€​par 	Ted looked more than unhappy. â€œI thought I was supposed to be kil ed by sorcery,â€ he said. â€œThat sounds like itâ€™l hurt.â€​par 	â€œProbably itâ€™l be too quick,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAre you sure it was the battle, Laurie?â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œMaybe it was the fight in the rose garden.â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t see any roses,â€ said Laura, doubtful y. 
 	â€œIt looked like a desert.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t intend to have a fight in the rose garden, anyway,â€ said Ted. â€œWel , we donâ€™t have to decide until right before we leave. Why donâ€™t you study what you can, Ruthie, and tel us on the night before the march whether you think you can do it? Letâ€™s al meet in the rose garden around midnight.â€​par 	â€œWhat exactly have we decided?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œIf Ruthie thinks she can bring me back,â€ said Ted, â€œthen we go to the battle and go through with the story and, after itâ€™s over, try to find the real Edwardâ€”and the real Patrick and Laura and Ruth and El en, I guess. If she doesnâ€™t think so, or if Laurie sees something real y awful, or ifâ€”wel , if we decide itâ€™s not a good idea to stay, we go home when the army passes the Wel and the House. Weâ€™d better figure out how to get those swords.â€​par 	â€œMaybe we could get out using Shanâ€™s Ring,â€
 	said El en. 
 	â€œIâ€™m not so sure I trust Shanâ€™s Ring,â€ said Ruth, â€œnot if it let Claudia out.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think thatâ€™s the ringâ€™s fault,â€ said Ted. â€œI think Claudiaâ€™s a very good sorcerer. Fence acts like thereâ€™s nothing he can do about her.â€​par 	Laura thought that Fence acted far more as if he did not need to do anything about Claudia, but held her tongue. 
 	â€œWel , then,â€ said El en, â€œmaybe we could use Shanâ€™s Ring to get Ted back? Isnâ€™t the Judge of the Dead an Outside Power?â€​par 	â€œNow thatâ€™s an idea,â€ said Ruth. â€œI always knew there was some reason for keeping such a brat around.â€​par 	El en dropped a plum down the neck of her sisterâ€™s dress, and the resulting wrestling match ended the discussion. 
 	Laura, backed into a corner, wondered which would be worse: dressing in menâ€™s array and going to a battle, or staying behind at High Castle and not knowing what was happening. Then a stray grape, thrown by Ted, hit her on the nose. She hurled a meat pie at him and caught Patrick neatly behind the ear, and ran as fast as she could out of the hal and into the rose garden. It had stopped raining. Agatha was going to kil the rest of them, she thought gleeful y. Then she sat down on a stone bench, sobered. It was not Agatha who would do the kil ing. 
 	
 CHAPTER 6

 	THE coronation was to be at two in the afternoon. At seven that morning, Ted and Patrick, having been unable to sleep, sat on their bearskin rug, playing chess. It was one of Claudiaâ€™s mornings. They had pul ed the shutters over the windows to keep the fog out, and lighted a lamp. It looked and felt like the middle of the night, and their game had the flavor of conspiracy. 
 	â€œCheck,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œBishops move diagonal y,â€​bserved Patrick. 
 	Ted scowled in spite of himself, and put his bishop back. 
 	It occurred to him to wonder why there were bishops in the game when there was no Catholic church in the Secret Country. He did not care to ask Patrick. â€œWhereâ€™s my knight, then?â€​par 	Patrick picked it out of the pile of Tedâ€™s pieces he had accumulated, and put on his face of exaggerated patience. 
 	â€œMaybe if we played something that doesnâ€™t have kings in it?â€ said Ted. Everything seemed conspiring to remind him of the coronation, and the mere thought made him itch. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s go practice fencing,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œItâ€™s not long until the battle.â€​par 	â€œYou think weâ€™l be going, then?â€​par 	â€œYou see any chance of getting those swords before then?â€​par 	
 	â€œ I donâ€™t have time! â€​aid Ted, his irritation rising. 
 	â€œI have to spend the whole blasted morning from nine oâ€™clock having a lot of clothes made right on me, and the whole afternoon being crowned, and the whole nightâ€”â€​par 	â€œDo you think itâ€™s a good idea to be crowned here, when youâ€™re not real y Edward?â€​par 	Ted stopped putting the chess pieces away. â€œYou believe this now?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m just trying to play the game right.â€​par 	â€œ Thatâ€™s new,â€ said Ted, and instantly regretted it. 
 	Patrickâ€™s eyes narrowed, but al he said was, â€œMaybe this is a new game.â€​par 	He picked up the chessboard. It looked like rosewood inlaid with ebony and ivory, and its border, wider than usual, was carved with scenes of court life and battle. Patrick tipped it toward Ted, smiling, and the lamplight slid down it like water. 
 	â€œThe props are sure better,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Ted closed the lid of their box, also carved, on the chess pieces, and he and Patrick put board and box away. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said Patrick as they went downstairs, â€œdo you think itâ€™s a good idea to be crowned?â€​par 	â€œRandolph thinks it is,â€ said Ted, â€œand heâ€™s the only one who knows whatâ€™s going on.â€​par 	They nodded politely to Agatha, who passed them carrying a tray with two cups and a jug on it. She gave them a look of resigned suspicion, then smiled suddenly. 
 	
 	â€œFence knows whatâ€™s going on,â€ said Patrick when they were several corners further on. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s not what I meant. Randolph kil ed the King, and heâ€™s the only one with real plans about what should happen after, because heâ€™s the only one who knew the King was going to die. Fence wanted to have the coronation after the battle, and Iâ€™d rather, but Randolph said we should have it before.â€​par 	They clattered down the last steps. 
 	â€œDid he say why?â€​par 	â€œHe said that if they didnâ€™t crown me it would show doubt of me.â€​par 	Patrick frowned at the wal . â€œMaybe they doubt you anyway. If I was Edward, I might kil the King. He was a terrible father.â€​par 	Ted felt that this was unjust, but could not say why. Then the first part of Patrickâ€™s speech caught up with him. 
 	â€œThey could think I did it. They never did tel me what happened when Jerome got them al together and Agatha asked them questions, and Matthew wrote it al down.â€​par 	â€œWel , Randolph wonâ€™t let them hang you for it,â€
 	said Patrick, starting down the hal again. 
 	There was a guard at the open door to the practice yard. 
 	There had never been one there before. The ways from the yard to the outside were guarded, so another guard on this door was sil y. 
 	Ted wished he could feel more like a prince and less like a guilty child. He and Patrick had every right to come practice their fencing. They had been doing it for weeks. But let somebody with a sword and a leather cap and a mail-shirt show up, and he wanted to run for his room. 
 	Patrick, after a brief pause, had marched on as if he were afraid he was going to miss the beginning of a movie, and Ted ran to keep up. The guard looked Patrick over until Ted came up, and then moved out of their way. 
 	â€œGive you good morrow,â€ she said. Ted looked at her in surprise. She was the woman with the scarred forehead who had sat next to Matthew at the Banquet and guarded the Council Chamber after the King was poisoned. 
 	â€œGood morning,â€​e said. 
 	Patrick simply stared, and then pul ed Ted out into the yard. 
 	â€œI never saw a woman guard before,â€ he said as they picked out their swords. Every rack and weapon had a patina of moisture, and Patrick frowned. â€œHow come these things donâ€™t rust?â€​par 	â€œI saw some after Randolph poisoned the King,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, â€œif there are women in the army then I guess the girls can come to the battle.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted, trying to imagine Laura in the middle of a fight. â€œItâ€™s not just that theyâ€™re girls. Theyâ€™re only little kids, except Ruthie.â€​par 	â€œSoâ€™re we,â€ said Patrick shortly, as he jerked a sword out, and danced away across the sand. â€œCome on.â€​par 	Tedâ€™s fencing was better than his chess had been. 
 	But after less than an hour, Benjamin interrupted their labors by grabbing Tedâ€™s tunic col ar and scolding him roundly for not having heard him coming. He then scolded Patrick for not having warned Ted. 
 	â€œA mil iard of years ye have had for swordcraft,â€ he said when he had finished with that, â€œand ye needs must leave it al for coronation morning. Thou,â€ he said to Ted, â€œwith me, and thou,â€ to Patrick, â€œto the West Tower.â€​par 	The woman with the scar grinned at them as Benjamin hustled them through her door. 
 	â€œMy lord Benjamin,â€​as al she said. 
 	â€œCelia,â€ said Benjamin, fixing her with his glare, â€œthy children have ridden Lord Conradâ€™s new horses six times round the lake and done them no smal damage.â€​par 	Ted watched in fascination as Celiaâ€™s face struggled to encompass worry, mirth, and respect al at once. 
 	â€œMy lord, you must speak to my husband,â€ she said, her voice a little stifled. â€œI am at my work this fortnight.â€​par 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Benjamin, â€œand when, in al this hugger-mugger, I shal find time to catch thy husband, â€™twil be, â€˜peak to Celia, for I am at my work.â€™
 	Meanwhile, those brats must take this castle stone from stone and use it to play at conkers.â€​par 	â€œAre they worse than us?â€​sked Patrick. 
 	â€œNo fear,â€ said Benjamin. â€œThey are but three, and no twenty children are worse than ye. To the West Tower, go.â€​par 	Patrick went. 
 	Ted looked over his shoulder at Celia as Benjamin pul ed him along, and was rewarded with a wink and a salute. He frowned, and suddenly remembered. Unless Celia were a common name at court, this was the person Matthew had wanted to ask about the fire-letters: the most accomplished musician. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s she doing guarding?â€​e said aloud. 
 	â€œWho else should doâ€™t, al thy fatherâ€™s men being suspect?â€​par 	Comprehension dawned. The first women in mail, or with weapons, Ted had seen in High Castle: standing at the door of the Council Chamber after the King had been poisoned. 
 	Neither the Kingâ€™s, nor men. That explained it. 
 	â€œAm I suspect?â€​e asked. 
 	â€œDidst not spil the bottle from Randolphâ€™s hand, to Andrewâ€™s sorrow?â€​par 	Ted was too startled to lie. â€œYes, butâ€”â€ Now who had told them that? Andrew, perhaps. 
 	â€œCease thy foolish questions,â€ said Benjamin. 
 	â€œPrinces are foolish, but kings must be canny. Best begin now. Thou art as foolish a prince as I have seen.â€​par 	Despite these dampening remarks, Ted felt more cheerful. Benjamin would rant, whatever happened. Maybe being king would not be so different from being Prince Edward. 
 	Becoming king could, however, accurately be described as a royal pain. Ted had chosen to laugh at this thought at an inauspicious moment, and had a scratch from the tailorâ€™s shears for his trouble. The tailor had apologized, but without being in the least abject. It was clear from Benjaminâ€™s expression that, if he had thought there was time to spare, he would have spent it in making Ted abject instead. 
 	The scratch was not a bad one, but the sweat caused by his coronation clothes made it sting. It was one discomfort too many. Ted was hot; the banquet hal was airless and crammed with people; they were al making a noise like twenty kindergarten classes let out to recess; and the musicians were making sounds like a restive zoo. 
 	Ted held his arms out to his sides, hoping for some air to creep under the loose sleeves of his under-tunic. He had four layers of clothes on, two of them velvet and al of them cumbersome. The colors went together nicely, and he was pleased to have a white and purple unicorn on his front and a black and red dragon on his back instead of the usual running fox. But he felt more suited to Arctic exploration than to a formal ceremony. 
 	â€œExcept if I moved Iâ€™d fal down,â€​e said aloud. 
 	â€œIf thou movest thou destroyest the ceremony,â€ said Benjamin into his left ear. â€œThey come to thee, not thou to them.â€​par 	Ted looked out over the bril iant, shifting crowd and was not at al sure he wanted any of them to come to him. 
 	Randolph appeared from their midst and sprang, like a child playing kangaroo, onto the platform where Ted and Benjamin stood. Despite his apparent energy, he looked exhausted. Ted thought he was thinner than he had been. 
 	He had blue smudges under his eyes. Ted stared at these for a moment. El en had managed to produce a very similar effect with the juice of smashed mulberries and a little cornstarch, to decorate a weary Lady Ruth after she brought Ted back from the dead. The rest of them had laughed at her, saying that nobody ever looked like that real y. But Randolph did now. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ said Randolph, a little breathlessly. 
 	â€œWhere are Matthewâ€™s children?â€​par 	Benjamin looked sour. â€œSeek them in the stables, or at the bottom of the lake.â€​par 	Randolph pushed irritably at his hair, and Benjamin appeared to relent. â€œThey need not attend; they are not of age.â€​par 	â€œMargaret hath speech and reason.â€​par 	Benjamin shrugged. â€œ â€™Twil not be noticed in her.â€​par 	Randolph went stil , reminding Ted of Fence. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ he said. â€œI wil have every wight of useful age in this castle swear fealty to Edward if it is my last act.â€​par 	Benjamin put a hand on Randolphâ€™s forehead, more as a calming gesture, thought Ted, then as if he were checking for fever. 
 	â€œI wil have no more like Melanie,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Benjamin sighed. â€œThere was never yet coronation in this castle that began at its proper time. I wil hold them â€™til you come again.â€​par 	Randolph slid down into the crowd and was gone. 
 	â€œYou mean al that rush was for nothing?â€ demanded Ted. 
 	â€œIt was not,â€​aid Benjamin. 
 	Ted decided not to pursue this. â€œWhat did he mean about Melanie?â€​par 	â€œYou need have no fear of Margaret,â€ said Benjamin. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t. Whatâ€™d he mean?â€​par 	â€œConsider your history,â€ said Benjamin, and Ted shut up and wished for El en. Some five hundred years ago, Melanie had spent her childhood in High Castle until she got into trouble with the unicorns, but he did not know what this had to do with coronation oaths. 
 	Having nothing else to do, he considered his history further; and suddenly he had it. Melanie had not sworn fealty to the King of the Secret Country because she was so young; she had then gotten into trouble, and gone away for a time. When she came back, she was a powerful sorceress, and stil had not sworn fealty to the King of the Secret Country, and caused a great deal more trouble than she had gotten into, because everybody assumed that she had sworn fealty. Randolph must think Margaret wild enough to do likewise. Ted was so pleased to have figured out anything at al that he grinned at Benjamin. 
 	â€œHaving this time at our disposal,â€ said Benjamin, â€œwe would do wel to speak of thy counselors. Wilt thou keep al thy fatherâ€™s?â€​par 	Ted, having had no idea that there was any choice in the matter, goggled at him. â€œWel ,â€ he said, â€œI donâ€™t trust Andrew.â€​par 	â€œBetter to have him under thine eye, then.â€​par 	â€œBut I donâ€™t like being under his. Anyway, does that mean I should have Claudia, too?â€​par 	â€œIf thou wilt so blithely break with tradition, â€™twere better thou hadst Agatha.â€​par 	â€œAgatha?â€​aid Ted, thoroughly confused. 
 	â€œShe served thy mother wel , a most astute tactician.â€​par 	Ted shook his sweaty hands in the air and felt the beginnings of outrage rise in him. Every time you got used to this place it hit you with something new. â€œWhatâ€™s she doing carrying cocoa to little girls in the morning?â€ he demanded. 
 	â€œWhat doth Celia guarding safe doors?â€ Benjamin mocked him. Ted felt himself growing redder than the heat in the room had made him. â€œWhat doth Suzanne spying in the South and Meredith waiting on late councils?â€​par 	â€œDid Wilâ€”did my father kick them off the Council, then?â€​par 	â€œEvery last one,â€​aid Benjamin. 
 	â€œBut he put you on? And whatâ€™d they do?â€​par 	â€œThou hast had nose in thy books too long,â€ said Benjamin. â€œI served thy grandfather, and thy mother also. 
 	She was not so great a fool as thy father, to turn her back on gathered wisdom.â€​par 	â€œYou think my father was a fool?â€ Ted was enthral ed. 
 	â€œIn some matters, ayeâ€”take him for al in al , certainly he was not.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted. He was torn between asking about his mother and deciding whom he wanted on his council. It sounded as though his mother had been Queen, and Wil iam had become King on her death, which was rather strange. But he found deciding about the council more appealing, as wel as more likely to be useful. â€œI want you, and I want Randolph and Matthew. And Fence.â€​par 	â€œFence wil be no counselor. He wil advise thee at his whim, not thine. It was ever so with sorcerers, save Shan; and he rued it.â€​par 	â€œWho else should I keep? Can I only have twelve?â€​par 	â€œKings have had more,â€ said Benjamin. â€œThey proved but cumbersome.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not surprised,â€ said Ted, thinking of the uproar only twelve could create. 
 	â€œI favor Conrad and Jerome,â€ said Benjamin. 
 	â€œNor is Andrew without merit.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s only six. Maybe I should see what Randolph thinks. Is Julian good for anything?â€ Ted paused. â€œWonâ€™t the rest of them be mad if I get rid of them?â€​par 	â€œThey have guarded safe doors before,â€ said Benjamin. â€œKing or Queenâ€™s Counselor is the most uncertain of professions.â€​par 	â€œI guess Iâ€™d better think on it.â€ Ted felt a pleased excitement, as if he and Ruth and El en were devising some new twist to the plot. It had not real y occurred to him before how many things he could now do as he liked. 
 	Randolph came to the edge of the platform, flushed and panting. â€œBenjamin, you may begin. The stable it was.â€
 	He wore his blue counselorâ€™s robe now, and used the steps to join them on the stage. His hand came down on Tedâ€™s shoulder for a moment. Tedâ€™s stomach clenched itself in answer. 
 	
 	â€œI wil stand at thy right shoulder,â€ breathed Randolph. â€œShouldst thou forget aught of thy speeches, but pluck me by the sleeve and thou shalt have the words.â€​par 	Ted, who had found memorizing speeches while having clothes made on him less than easy, was swept by a fierce gratitude. By the time indignation had begun to overtake it, Benjamin had signaled to the musicians and he had no time to indulge his feelings. 
 	The musicians were playing the minstrel-boy song. Ted sighed. How had that come to the Secret Country? It was al very wel to say that the five of them had had the Secret Country put into their heads, rather than inventing it on their own. But that song was an old one. He supposed the Secret Country could have put it into the head of whoever wrote it, but that raised more questions than it answered. 
 	The crowd before him shifted and parted, and Fence came up the newly opened aisle, his robe striking a hundred bewildering sparks, a crown in his hands. It was the same intricately twisted silver as Ruthâ€™s ring, Randolphâ€™s dagger and circlet, and Fenceâ€™s key. But the five stones in it were red. Ted looked at it with dismay. Red stones meant Claudia to him, and he did not like to think what it might 
 	mean 
 	that they were in the crown. Crowns shouldnâ€™t have anything to do with magic anyway, he thought grumpily. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ he breathed, â€œis that crown magic?â€​par 	â€œCertainly not,â€​aid Benjamin. â€œHush.â€​par 	Ted was a little comforted. 
 	Fence stopped before the stage and looked up at Ted. 
 	The crowd hushed as swiftly as if it had heard Benjamin. 
 	
 	Benjamin and Randolph moved a little backward, and Ted felt suddenly idiotic, standing al by himself so high above them al . He hated looking down at Fence. 
 	â€œEdward Fairchild,â€ said Fence. â€œI am about to confer upon you the powers, privileges, and obligations of Prince of the Enchanted Forest, Lord of the Desertâ€™s Edge, Friend to the Unicorns, and King of the Hidden Land. 
 	Are you wil ing to be so invested?â€​par 	When Fence put it that way, Ted was not at al wil ing. 
 	What was the Hidden Land, anyway? It must be the Secret Country, but then why didnâ€™t they say so? Fence stood looking at him, unmoved, but he heard Benjamin make an impatient noise behind him, and gave up. 
 	â€œI am wil ing,â€​e said. 
 	â€œDo you solemnly swear, in the tradition of John, by the mercy granted to Shan, in accordance with the laws of the Hidden Land and the dictates of Chryse, to honor and protect the people in your power; to deal lightly in the exercise of your privileges and straitly in the fulfil ment of your obligations; to reward valor with honor, service with service, oath-breaking with vengeance?â€​par 	Ted was petrified. He did not know what he was doing. 
 	What tradition, what mercy, what laws and dictates? Oh, God, he thought, weâ€™ve got to find the real Edward quick. Fenceâ€™s steady gaze stil held him, more daunting than any sign of impatience or bewilderment. 
 	â€œI do so swear,â€​e said. 
 	Fence turned his back on him and addressed the crowd. 
 	â€œIf any wight in this gathering knoweth of any impediment to this coronation, let him speak now or be forever silent.â€​par 	
 	No one said a word. Fence gave them a good long time, during which the sweat ran down Tedâ€™s neck and he refrained from fidgeting. 
 	Fence faced Ted again. â€œMy lord Regent,â€ he said to Randolph, â€œknowest thou of any impediment to my performing this act?â€​par 	â€œMy lord, thou art suited toâ€™t,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Fence nodded to Ted, who knelt down and began to shake. 
 	â€œIn the names of John and Chryse, I cal thee King,â€
 	Fence said, and set the crown on Tedâ€™s head. It was heavy, and too large. Fence tilted it back a little. â€œMove gently,â€ he breathed. Ted did not dare to nod, but he raised his eyes to Fence and tried to look intel igent. Fence held out his hands to Ted, who stared for a moment and then took them between his sweaty ones. Fenceâ€™s were like iron. 
 	â€œI, Fence, sorcerer, of no land, within the confines of my judgment and the needs of my knowledge, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship, and faith and truth wil I bear unto you, to live and die, against al manner of folk.â€​par 	Tedâ€™s eyes stung and his throat clogged. Behind him Randolphâ€™s voice said, â€œI, Edward, do become your liege lord.â€​par 	â€œI, Edward,â€ said Ted, wishing his name were anything else, â€œdo become your liege lord of life and limb, and of earthly worship, and that faith and truth I receive of you, that I wil requite.â€ Wel , he thought, youâ€™ve done it now. 
 	
 	Fence kissed him on the mouth. Ted did not mind that particularly, but he had a fleeting hope that everyone in the room would not do the same. 
 	â€œStand up,â€ said Fence, kindly. Ted did; and remembering his instructions now, he backed to the far side of the stage. Randolph knelt and swore fealty to him, with a grim emphasis on the words â€œfaith and truthâ€ that made Ted shiver. Randolph must have sworn the same oath to Wil iam, but his hands between Tedâ€™s were quite steady. Saying, â€œthat I wil requite,â€ Ted thought of the rose garden and shivered again. 
 	â€œPut thy mind at ease,â€ said Randolph before he kissed Ted; â€œal may yet be very wel .â€ He dropped down from the front of the platform and joined the crowd. 
 	Benjamin swore next; he seemed delighted, which was comforting, if not understandable. Then people began coming out of the crowd. Ted was glad it had not been his task to figure out what order they should come in. For some time he did not know any of them: men, women, children his age and younger. He began to wonder what Randolph had meant by â€œuseful age.â€ Most of them did not kiss him. 
 	In the midst of a group of girls who looked as if they would have liked to, Ruth showed up; she was grinning so hard she looked as if she might cry any minute. She did kiss him; the crowd chuckled a little. Over her bowed and braided dark head, Ted saw Randolph set his mouth, and wished she had not done it. 
 	After Ruth, more and more of the faces were familiar. 
 	Tedâ€™s counselorsâ€”or Wil iamâ€™s, real y, he thoughtâ€”began to show up, most of them with people Ted took to be their wives and children. Matthew, Celia, and a yel ow-haired girl around El enâ€™s age came together. 
 	
 	She must be the notorious Margaret, and Matthew and Celia must be married. Ted felt like congratulating them, but restrained himself. He was getting a little light-headed. 
 	Andrew came and went, so quietly and graceful y that he was an insult, and Ted no longer found it hard to believe that he was Claudiaâ€™s brother. He looked for Claudia, but she did not come. El en came after Andrew, doing everything with a demure flourish that made Ted grin, and saying her oath as if she meant it, which made him nervous. 
 	Ted wondered where Laura was. Perhaps she was not of useful age, poor kid. Or maybe it wasnâ€™t â€œpoor kid.â€ She probably wouldnâ€™t take kindly to swearing to obey him; she would be sure that he would take advantage of it when they were back home. And it would, in fact, be tempting. Ted felt a little cold. He should not have let Ruth and El en swear fealty to him. No one except Fence had mentioned any titles in the oath: it was just, â€œI, Ruth, do become your liege manâ€; and he had not accepted the oaths as King of the Hidden Land, but only as Edward. 
 	Walking very tal in his green tunic and white cloak, Tedâ€™s cousin Patrick came up the room, knelt, and bowed his headâ€”which, Ted noted, somebody had made him combâ€”and held his hand up for Tedâ€™s. 
 	Ted caught him by the wrists and said in an urgent whisper, â€œDonâ€™t do that!â€​par 	Patrick looked up at him with the startled and irritated expression of someone who has been interrupted in the middle of a good book. â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œStand up!â€ hissed Ted, pul ing at him. He most emphatical y did not want to be Patrickâ€™s liege lord. 
 	Patrick got reluctantly to his feet. â€œWhatâ€™s wrong?â€​par 	â€œShhh! I donâ€™t want you doing this!â€​par 	â€œI have to,â€ said Patrick, practical y, just above a whisper. â€œItâ€™l look funny.â€​par 	â€œI guess I can favor my younger brother if I want to.â€​par 	â€œYounger brothers are usurpers,â€ said Patrick. â€œI donâ€™t want to be poisoned for my own good.â€​par 	Ted was furious. â€œRandolph wouldnâ€™t do that.â€
 	He was acutely aware of Randolph and Benjamin, in the front of the crowd, staring. 
 	â€œIt wouldnâ€™t have to be Randolph.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t want you swearing fealty to me,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™m swearing fealty to the King,â€ said Patrick, â€œand as long as you are King, I might as wel swear it to you.â€​par 	â€œYou are not. Werenâ€™t you listening? Edward, thatâ€™s me. This isnâ€™t just a kingâ€™s oath. Itâ€™s personal.â€​par 	â€œUh,â€ said Patrick, noncommittal y. â€œWe better do something, theyâ€™re getting restless.â€​par 	â€œWhy donâ€™t you kneel down and mumble at me?â€​par 	â€œNo, they have to hear the oath or it isnâ€™t legal. 
 	Give me a minute. Okay.â€ Patrick knelt down again, and Ted took his hands. Patrick looked up at him. â€œThis oath that I am about to swear,â€ he said in a whisper, â€œshal bind me only upon the business of the Secret Country, and only so long as thou art king thereof.â€​par 	
 	â€œIt shal bind thee only under these conditions,â€ said Ted, remembering what this summer had almost made him forget, how satisfactory it could be to play with Patrick. 
 	
 CHAPTER 7

 	LAURA stood in a corner and wondered irritably how many banquet hal s there were in High Castle. They had held the coronation in the same hal they had used for the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve. This hal was not entirely as it should have been, but was at least in the right part of High Castleâ€”the innermost, oldest building of gray stone that looked from the outside precisely as they had imagined it. 
 	The coronation feast, however, was being laid out in a rosy twin of the room where they had their everyday meals. 
 	As far as Laura could tel , it was in the outermost pink part of the castle, on the same side and with the same orientation as the Dragon Hal . She hated the pink marble far more than it deserved; it was the most obtrusive reminder of their dilemma. The prospect of suffering it al around her for an entire banquet was almost the last straw. If Laura had thought anyone would notice, she would have skipped the coronation feast and sulked. She was not sure whom she was angry at, but she was certainly put out. She had found the ceremony awesome. Even El en had made not one snide remark. Laura would have been happier if she had. It was not so bad to be left out of a ceremony that El en made snide remarks about. 
 	Laura pressed herself against the wal to let by two boys carrying a tray of fruit. Not only had she been left out of her own brotherâ€™s coronation, but El en had not returned after her part in it. People were already beginning to sit down, and no one had come to find Laura. Sitting through a formal feast with strange grown-ups would be worse than having been left out of the ceremony. 
 	
 	Laura backed tighter against the wal to let by someone with a pile of napkins. A fold of tapestry landed on her head. 
 	Laura ducked frantical y away from it, narrowly missed upsetting a tray of cheese and its bearer, and looked up. 
 	Sure enough, the tapestry hung crooked now, showing a bare space of gray wal . Laura got away from the evidence, taking the easiest route through the crowd. This put her too far from the doors. She began a course calculated to take her to the front of the hal but on the other side, and came face-to-face with someone in a pageâ€™s costume who seemed to know her. 
 	â€œMy lady, the King requests your presence at his table at supper.â€​par 	Laura, after one frozen moment in which â€œKingâ€ stil meant the old man buried up on the hil , beamed wildly and fol owed the page. 
 	Ted, Ruth, and Benjamin were standing in a tight group beside the head table. Patrick and El en lurked around its outskirts, making loud remarks and being ignored. 
 	â€œWhat can he say to her with al these people around?â€​emanded El en. 
 	â€œI tel you Iâ€™l not have it,â€ said Benjamin to Ted. 
 	His back was to Laura, but she had no trouble hearing him. 
 	â€œIf you didnâ€™t mean I could sit with anyone I wanted to, why did you say it?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ said Ruth, â€œI give you my word of honorâ€”â€​par 	â€œThose who kiss in public,â€ said Benjamin with deadly calm, â€œneed no speech in private.â€​par 	
 	Lauraâ€™s page chose this moment, while both Ted and Ruth were gathering their indignation into speech, to say loudly, â€œMy lord the King, the Lady Laura.â€​par 	Benjamin turned. He, Ted, Ruth, El en, Patrick, and a number of random strangers al looked at Laura, who would gladly have been back under the tapestry. 
 	â€œThank you,â€ said Ted to the page, who bowed and went away. Laura looked longingly after him. â€œLaurie,â€
 	said Ted, â€œwil you sit with us at supper?â€​par 	â€œSure,â€ said Laura, and recovered enough to do him a courtesy. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ said Ted, and Laura stared. The change in his voice was frightening. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Benjamin. 
 	Laura took this to mean that Benjamin would not sit with them at supper, and was relieved. 
 	â€œTed,â€ said Ruth, in her most ordinary voice. â€œIt was a dumb thing for me to do. Just forget supper, okay?â€​par 	â€œThis one time,â€​aid Ted, looking at Benjamin. 
 	â€œMy lord Benjamin,â€ said Ruth. â€œI crave your pardon for my behavior at the coronation. â€™Twas lack of thought, not malice.â€​par 	Benjamin said, â€œLack of thought in a sorcerer is like unto lack of weapon in a battle. For thy manners I pardon thee. Look wel to thy thoughts.â€​par 	Ruth swept him an impressive courtesy and walked away. 
 	â€œMay I have the rest of them?â€ Ted asked Benjamin. 
 	Laura could tel from long experience that he was furious but wished not to show it. 
 	
 	Patrick shook his head at Ted. When Ted frowned, Patrick touched the dagger at his belt and jerked his head upward. Tedâ€™s face cleared, and then he looked irritated. 
 	â€œFor heavenâ€™s sake,â€ he said to Benjamin, furiously, â€œwhat difference does it make? Get Fence and Randolph and Matthew. I donâ€™t care!â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l sit with you, Ted,â€​aid El en. 
 	Patrick turned to leave, and Laura, momentarily abandoned, panicked and trailed after him. She was not sure Ted wanted her, and Benjamin obviously didnâ€™t. 
 	Patrick was better than strangers. 
 	She was so busy fol owing him that she did not realize he was leaving the hal until they were both outside it. Patrick stopped to take off his cloak, and Laura bumped into him. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™re you doing here?â€ Patrick said. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re supposed to be eating with Ted.â€​par 	â€œBenjamin doesnâ€™t want me.â€​par 	â€œNo, he doesnâ€™t want Ruth.â€​par 	â€œWel , Iâ€™m not going back there now. I bet they didnâ€™t save me a seat. What are you doing?â€​par 	Patrick drew her into the nearest stairwel and whispered, â€œStealing our swords while Fence is eating.â€​par 	Laura suddenly found supper with Benjamin more appealing. 
 	â€œYou canâ€™t get in,â€ she said after a moment. 
 	â€œFence keeps it locked.â€​par 	â€œYes, I can,â€​aid Patrick, and he held out to her on a grubby palm Fenceâ€™s twisted silver key for the lower door, and the plain one for the upper. 
 	â€œHowâ€™d you do that?â€​par 	â€œBumped against him in the crowd,â€ said Patrick loftily. â€œWel ,â€ he added, when Laura only stared, â€œI had to watch him for a month before I found out where he kept the key.â€​par 	Laura was irked. â€œEl en and I couldâ€™ve told you.â€​par 	â€œAnd I tried three or four times before and couldnâ€™t get it because there wasnâ€™t enough of a crowd.â€​par 	Laura was further irked. â€œDid you plan this for a long time?â€​par 	â€œEver since the swords were stolen,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œI wanted Ted to help me, but heâ€™s busy now and weâ€™re out of time.â€​par 	Lauraâ€™s feelings final y found vent. â€œWhy didnâ€™t you tel us? Weâ€™ve been worried to death and you had a plan al along!â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t even tel Ted until today,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œIt was my idea, wasnâ€™t it?â€​par 	Laura gave up being angry. Made brave by one of the few feelings of pure admiration she had ever had for Patrick, she said, â€œIâ€™l go with you since Ted canâ€™t.â€
 	Ted had been meant to go on this adventure. This was what he got for leaving her out of his coronation. 
 	Patrick hesitated, and then he grinned. â€œSure,â€ he said. â€œYou can be my lookout, and distract the intruders with your childish blandishments.â€​par 	Laura looked at him. No, he was not making fun of her. 
 	His tone of voice was maddeningly familiar but so out-of-place that it took her a moment to recognize it. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re playing,â€​he said, half accusingly. 
 	â€œDâ€™you want to come, or not?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€ said Laura, wondering what blandishments were. She fol owed him up the steps. 
 	In the hal before the stairs to Fenceâ€™s tower, the purple torches burned. The yel ow torches of High Castle smel ed like turpentine; these gave off a damp scent of moss, and wel water, and cold rock. How could anything burn that smel ed like that? Sorcery, thought Laura grimly, thatâ€™s how. 
 	The lower door with its enigmatic carvings was shut. 
 	Laura kept an eye out for beasts, but saw none. Patrick put his shoulder to the door, and it swung inward without a sound. Another purple torch glared across the darkness at their feet, where the steps went down, not up. They looked at one another. A cold air came up the stairway and stirred their hair. 
 	â€œWhat the hel ?â€​aid Patrick, leaning forward. 
 	â€œWait a minute,â€ said Laura, trying to remember. 
 	The day Fence had come back seemed as long ago as the summers in Pennsylvania, when Patrick played Fence and torches, sorcerous or otherwise, burned only in their imaginations. Fence, covered with dust and looking just as he ought, had come along this hal with her and El en, and found that, contrary to his dispositions, the door was unlocked. Laura said, â€œClose the door and lock it. It makes the stairs go the right way.â€​par 	Patrick frowned. â€œWel , it canâ€™t hurt.â€ He pul ed the door to and locked it, after a little trouble with the silver key. 
 	â€œNow you unlock it again and everythingâ€™s al right.â€​par 	Patrick did this, and opened the door. The purple torch hung over a pit of blackness. 
 	â€œIt worked when Fence did it,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œCould I have gotten the wrong key?â€​par 	â€œThat one looks right. Anyway, it fit in the door, didnâ€™t it?â€​par 	â€œWel , Fence is a wizard, and we arenâ€™t. Huh,â€
 	said Patrick thoughtful y, and went back into the hal , where he stood on a stone bench and took a purple torch from its holder. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™re you doing?â€ said Laura, who knew quite wel . 
 	â€œMaybe this is just to scare us. If we could prop the door open it wouldnâ€™t hurt to go down a little ways.â€​par 	He tilted the torch. It did not give much light, but it showed the first two or three steps. Laura thought with despair that this would keep them from breaking a leg, which would be enough for Patrick. She was very sorry she had been so angry with Ted. 
 	Patrick was trying to drag a stone bench over to prop open the door. He made so much noise and roused so many echoes from the dark stairwel that she went to help him just to get it over with. They could not lift the bench, but with considerable scraping of hands and floor they inched it along until it would block the door if the door should blow shut. 
 	
 	â€œCome on,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Laura wondered why he had forgotten about the blandishments, but she was past speech. She stood next to his free hand, and they started down. 
 	It was cold and very quiet. 
 	â€œPat,â€ said Laura, remembering how far it was to Fenceâ€™s chambers when the stairs went the right way, â€œdo we have to go down two hundred and eight steps to get anywhere?â€​par 	â€œI hope not,â€ said Patrick, â€œthough it would make sense. Ted is supposed to keep Fence busy after the feast, but we canâ€™t take too much time. And if too many people have left I canâ€™t sneak the keys back.â€​par 	â€œFeasts are always long,â€​aid Laura. 
 	They went down and around and down and around. On the ninth or tenth landing, Patrickâ€™s torch struck dim watery gleams from something spread on the stones. Laura stopped dead. The gleams grew to a great burst of light, then steadied to a long, winged shape of bright red, beating its way over a plain. It stooped upon a house. Laura had one moment to recognize the Secret House, and then it was fire. 
 	From its sparks another vision swel ed. She saw a black-haired man who looked like Fence and was not, for he also looked like Randolph. He sat robed in red, with a book open on his lap, and the book showed the long scarlet shape of the dragon, smiting the Secret House with flame. From the lettering below the picture one word leapt out at her. 
 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€ said Laura, trying it out letter by letter. The light died, and she stood with Patrick on a cold stair. At their feet was another purple beast. 
 	
 	â€œWhat?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	The beast made noises like a kettle about to boil. Patrick poked the torch at it, cautiously. It hissed and steamed up around them in a purple mist, and sifted away, smel ing like damp stone and, a little, like the Wel of the White Witch. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, â€œnow we know they donâ€™t like fire.â€​par 	â€œIf thatâ€™s fire,â€ said Laura, looking dubiously at the torch. 
 	They went on. 
 	â€œTwo hundred and eight,â€ said Patrick at last. They looked along the ghostly sphere of the torch and past it into darkness. 
 	â€œPat,â€​aid Laura, without any great hope. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, â€œit would make sense to have it be the same number of steps down, but when did anything about this place make sense?â€​par 	â€œCan we go back now?â€ Laura felt oppressed by the layers of darkness above them. She did not like looking into the dark, and she was afraid to look at the torch lest she see more visions. She hated them more every time she had one. 
 	They must mean something, but she could not tel what. She was beginning to feel that they, too, were laughing at her. 
 	She looked at Patrick instead. He was not a comforting sight. The torchlight dyed his unremarkable brown hair a vivid purple, and his rosy face a pale yel owish violet. He wore what Ruth cal ed his mad-scientist expression. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ he said again, â€œit could be a multiple of the number going up.â€​par 	
 	â€œIt could go down forever,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œSounds just like something Fence would do,â€ said Patrick sourly. He started down the steps again. 
 	â€œLook,â€ he said, when Laura stayed where she was. 
 	â€œJust two hundred and eight more, okay? Except, hel , in magic things go in threes.â€​par 	â€œI am not, â€ said Laura, â€œgoing down two times two hundred and eight more steps.â€ Her legs ached as if she had been bicycling up hil s al day. 
 	â€œWel , come down one times two hundred and eight, okay? We donâ€™t real y have time for any more anyway.â€​par 	Laura strongly suspected that once he had gotten her down the second two hundred and eight he would try to talk her into the third. But he had not suggested leaving her there in the dark, and she was grateful for this. â€œAl right,â€
 	she said. 
 	â€œRemind me,â€ she added, as she fol owed the purple blotch of Patrickâ€™s light, â€œto tel Ted I saw something else, okay?â€​par 	â€œYou did? When?â€​par 	â€œWhen the torchlight shone on that watery beast.â€​par 	â€œYou didnâ€™t see anything else about Ted getting kil ed, did you?â€​par 	â€œNo. I didnâ€™t see anybody we know.â€​par 	â€œDid you ever see me?â€​par 	Laura thought. â€œNo. Nobody but Ted, that I knew.â€​par 	They went on. 
 	
 	â€œCouldnâ€™t you count out loud?â€ said Laura after a while. 
 	â€œI have to breathe, you know. Iâ€™l tel you every tenth one . . . sixty.â€​par 	â€œIs that all? â€​par 	â€œAnd one hundred,â€ said Patrick eventual y, as they crossed another landing. â€œHey,â€ he said. â€œJackpot. 
 	One and a half times as many steps.â€​par 	Lauraâ€™s hair prickled even before she crowded up beside him and saw what he saw. Down four steps on the last landing, a muted crowd of colored streaks lay across the stones, cast through the open doorway by things she could not see. The purple in this faded rainbow was the same color as the torch. Laura knew the green and blue at once as the colors of light given off by Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords. 
 	Patrick pounded down the last steps, passed stripedly across the landing, and said, â€œLaura!â€​par 	Laura fol owed and stood in the doorway with him. The room was ful of weapons: swords, knives, spears, bows and arrows, a myriad of odd and ugly objects that Laura did not recognize. Some were hung neatly on the wal s, some scattered across the floor. They al glowed, palely in purple, blue and green; in sickly orange; in pal id gold; in moony white; and with a vigorous red that reminded Laura unhappily of Claudia. 
 	As her eyes adjusted to the light, like a jigsaw puzzle done in watercolors, she saw that the far wal of the room was lined with trunks. Their lids were open, and out of them spil ed dim jewels. They drew her eyes into them; misty shapes began to form within them. Laura took a step forward, and another. Foggy, starlit spaces opened around her. She saw five figures standing by the bank of a stream. 
 	She strained to see them more clearly. One of them waved to her. They seemed familiar, but, like almost everything else here, not quite right. 
 	Her breath was jarred out of her suddenly and pain shot up her right leg from her knee. Patrick cal ed her name from a far distance. She blinked. She had tripped on a bow: her foot was stil tangled in it. She had fal en and cut her knee on something. Laura moved the knee, and blood ran down her leg. She picked the sword up. It was smal . The hilt was black, and set with blue stones, not like sapphires. A prickling went down her arm, as if a cold breeze had blown on her. The blade glowed blue. 
 	â€œHere it is,â€​he said to Patrick. 
 	â€œYou think so?â€​e said. 
 	Laura looked at him. He held a sword like hers. They laid the hilts together and examined them. They were not alike. 
 	The patterns of the stones and the shapes of the hilts were different. 
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Patrick, nastily, â€œwhich one is it?â€​par 	â€œHow should I know?â€ said Laura. â€œCan you find yours?â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s at least three that color of green,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œMaybe they al do the same thing,â€ said Laura. Her knee twinged, and she decided not to look at it. â€œHave you got a handkerchief?â€​par 	â€œDidnâ€™t you cut your knee on Shanâ€™s sword, too?â€ Patrick put the sword down and rummaged in his cloak. 
 	â€œI canâ€™t help it.â€​par 	â€œNo, I just meant, since we donâ€™t have any other clues, why donâ€™t you take the one you fel on?â€​par 	â€œWhich one wil you take?â€​par 	Patrick tied a handkerchief around her knee. Ted would have wiped the blood off first, but this was not the time to say so. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, â€œI know Melanieâ€™s had three stones in it, so Iâ€™l take a green one with three stones.â€​par 	â€œYou think theyâ€™l work the same?â€​par 	â€œA magic sword is a magic sword.â€​par 	A battery is a battery, thought Laura, looking at him with exasperation. A transistor is a transistor. Was that even true? Impossible to argue with Patrick on his own terms if you didnâ€™t even know what they meant. She stood up and tried her knee. â€œWe should go before I get al stiff,â€
 	she said from experience. 
 	Patrick looked rebel ious for an instant. â€œOh, wel ,â€
 	he said, â€œI should get these keys back to Fence before he misses them.â€​par 	They took up their swords and stood looking at the dim colors of the room. 
 	â€œI bet theyâ€™re all enchanted,â€ said Laura. 
 	Enchanted weapons might be useful in a battle against monsters; she wondered if anybody knew this room was here. Fence had seemed amused, more than anything else, when he had seen the stairs going down instead of up. He had seemed to think this was a joke that Randolph might play. No doubt they knew al about it. 
 	â€œToo bad we donâ€™t know what it al does,â€ said Patrick. He took the torch from where he had stuck it in a tangle of swordbelts, and then looked thoughtful y at the tangle. â€œWait a minute. If we get belts for these things we wonâ€™t have to carry them.â€​par 	This accomplished, they began their climb. 
 	
 CHAPTER 8

 	TED got through his coronation dinner by repeatedly reminding himself how much worse the Banquet of Midsummerâ€™s Eve had been. In the intervals of this, he wondered whether he ought to have stood up to Benjamin more. Even al owing for his grief and perplexity at the Kingâ€™s death, Benjamin had been overbearing and rude. Edward would certainly have put up with this: his sudden acquisition of a real personality, in the game, did not happen until just before he kil ed Randolph. But Ted had already shown a real personality. Perhaps he should have gone on showing it. 
 	Smitten by a sudden thought, Ted found that he was staring at Celia, and quickly smiled instead. He could not remember ever having shown a real personality to Benjamin. Something in Benjaminâ€™s manner made it evident that he expected to be tolerated and to be obeyed. 
 	Ted remembered how, at the first Council meeting, Benjamin had with a touch kept an enraged Randolph from speaking, and how he had sat at the Kingâ€™s left hand. 
 	Benjamin had not been at the Banquet when Ted attacked Andrew. Al Tedâ€™s other defiances had been flung at Fence or Randolph. But Fence and Randolph put up with Benjamin, too. 
 	Ted looked down the table at him. He was haranguing Matthewâ€™s wife and family. Celia grinned at him and occasional y said something. The three yel ow-haired children sat stiffly, their noses almost in their plates and their faces solemn. Only when Celia said something would they slide their eyes sideways at one another; and then they looked as if they were battling what Tedâ€™s mother cal ed interior mirth. Benjamin must have invited them on Tedâ€™s behalf, to make up for having forbidden Ruth and scared off Patrick and Laura. They did not look either pleased or honored. 
 	Ted gave up on Benjamin and Matthewâ€™s children both, and looked at the rest of his dinner guests. El en sat next to Matthew and across from the two boys, and every time Ted glanced her way she made a face at him. Fence and Matthew were talking about music, with occasional appeals to Celia. Randolph, while everyone else had gotten to dessert, was stil looking at his soup, and as if he expected to find worms in it. 
 	Ted, staring absently at Margaret and thinking about Benjamin again, realized that she was speaking to him. 
 	â€œAre you in the play, your Majesty?â€​he asked. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted firmly, fighting his stomachâ€™s lurch of panic. 
 	â€œWhy, what a pity.â€​par 	â€œAre you?â€​par 	â€œMost certainly. I am the cat.â€​par 	She was so obviously pleased that Ted ventured to say, â€œThatâ€™s a good part.â€​par 	â€œYou may have it again next year, my lord,â€ said Randolph, letting a servant take away his soup. â€œBeing the New Kingâ€™s play, Margaret, â€™twere foolish to ask whether he be a player.â€​par 	Margaret shrugged. â€œAnd being a secret play, my lord, â€™twere foolish to let out the cat fromâ€™s bag.â€​par 	
 	Randolph laughed. 
 	â€œMargaret,â€​aid Celia, â€œspeak not so pert.â€​par 	â€œShe hath the right of me,â€​andolph told her. 
 	â€œThe more reason she should speak it meekly.â€​par 	Just like a parent, thought Ted. Celia had spoken pert to Benjamin when she had the right of it. 
 	Someone somewhere blew a trumpet, and everybody looked at Ted. No doubt he was to lead them to wherever the play would be performed. Al my imperfections on my head, he thought wildly. He stood up, started to hold out his hand to Margaret, and hastily offered her his arm instead. 
 	â€œAs one cat to another,â€ he said, hoping he did not sound too idiotic, â€œwil you walk with me?â€​par 	This seemed to please everybody except Celia, who raised her eyebrows at her daughter. Margaret raised hers back and smiled at Ted. 
 	â€œGood King of Cats, I wil ,â€​he said. 
 	He had been right: she knew where to go, and he had only to fol ow her. They were obliged to parade the length of the Banquet Hal , stared at by everyone in the place. Ted could not think of another word to say; Margaret, luckily, did not seem to expect it of him. 
 	When they had passed through the doors he heard the scrape of chairs as the rest of the company began to fol ow them. 
 	Margaret led them to the fountain in the rose garden, did him a courtesy, and said, â€œBy your leave, my lord.â€​par 	â€œMy best thanks to you, good cat,â€ said Ted. She went on past the fountain and into a clump of bushes, and Ted stood waiting for someone to show him where to sit. 
 	The feast had been a long one; it was early evening. The fog was gone, but the air was stil chil y. The stone seats looked uninviting. Ted felt more kindly toward his coronation clothes. 
 	The rest of the feasters began arriving behind him, gabbling and giggling. In their elaborate and no doubt costly coronation garments, they sat themselves down on the grass and flagstone paths and stone seats of the rose garden. Ted supposed that if you kept your finery in a dusty, clovey tower, you might as wel sit on the grass in it. He was irritated with them al , without knowing why. He spotted El en and beckoned to her. She came to him readily. 
 	â€œDo you know whatâ€™s going on?â€ she demanded of him. 
 	â€œ I was going to ask you. â€​par 	Randolph came up to them. â€œIâ€™d forgot,â€ he said to Ted, â€œthou hast never seen this form of the play. For this thou sittest on the edge of the fountain, not in the chair of state.â€​par 	â€œCan I sit with him?â€​aid El en. 
 	Randolph scrutinized her for a moment and nodded. 
 	â€œThou shalt be a page,â€ he said, and made for the other side of the fountain, where another crowd of people had appeared. 
 	Ted and El en stared at each other. Randolph came back with two velvet caps, a purple one for Ted and a gold one for El en. El en was delighted. Gold for faithfulness, thought Ted, thatâ€™s right for a page. And purpleâ€”purple is kingliness. He tugged the hat on over his disordered hair. 
 	
 	El enâ€™s hair, never orderly at the best of times, flared out beneath the tight rim of her cap like a cloud of soot. She looked, as she had looked on the last day of their game, like a witch, not like a page. 
 	â€œCome on,â€ Ted said to her. They walked over and sat on the edge of the fountain. 
 	The crowd, seating itself, had left empty a wide round space before the fountain. Two pages, with gold caps like El enâ€™s, came from Tedâ€™s left, each carrying a torch, and took up places in the middle of this space, with perhaps ten feet between them. The last murmurs and laughter died down, leaving only the faint splash of the fountain. Randolph, with a red velvet cap on his head, walked out of the crowd into the space between the torches, bowed, and spoke. 
 	His walk was not his usual swift and easy stride, but a sort of flat-footed, swinging affair; his bow, that could speak volumes of private history, was brief and clumsy. His voice was, if anything, more clear and compel ing than usual, but Ted could not understand a word he said. The language Fence had used at the second council meeting, the language Fence and Randoph had used at the Kingâ€™s funeral, for the third time teased him with its almost-understood cadences, its words that stopped just the wrong side of the threshold of meaning. 
 	El en tugged at his sleeve. â€œWhat language is that!â€
 	she said in a ferocious whisper. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know. Hush up.â€​par 	Randolph, having finished his speech, sat down cross-legged on the flagstones, again with an abrupt and ungraceful motion unlike his accustomed behavior. It occurred to Ted that the effect of these different mannerisms was to make Randolph seem very young, perhaps not much older than Ted. The red cap meant, presumably, a Red Sorcerer; which was funny, when you thought of it, because Randolph was apprenticed to a Blue Sorcerer. The only Red Sorcerer Ted could cal to mind was Shan, who had started out as one before taking his own strange path. But there was no guarantee that this play dealt with matters Ted knew anything about. 
 	Out of the crowd on Tedâ€™s right came the vast figure of Conrad, with his black beard. Another red cap sat on his bald head, and he carried a staff. As Randolphâ€™s easy walk had become clumsy, Conradâ€™s clumsy but vigorous stride had become halting; he moved like an old man. He stood over the seated Randolph, his shadow eclipsing the red cap, and said, in words Ted understood plainly, â€œWould you so?â€​par 	â€œI would,â€ said Randolph, brisk and blithe; and Ted, for no reason he knew, shivered. 
 	Conrad put three fingers into his mouth and whistled. A smal form in a black-and-white checked cap bounced out of the middle of the crowd and clattered up to Conrad, grinning. It was one of Matthewâ€™s sonsâ€”Mark, Ted thought; and it was quite clear, though he walked on two feet and wore no costume, that he was a dog. Conrad tousled his checked cap and presented him to Randolph. 
 	â€œThis is your dog, child. Dog, guard him wel . Child, this is the essence of faith; if you betray it, al the world else wil betray you. Do you take this one as your fel ow?â€​par 	â€œI do,â€ said Randolph, his voice pleased, careless, and confident, as if he were agreeing to read a story to Laura after dinner. Ted shivered again. Shan, a young wizard, proud, and oâ€™er-hasty, might have greeted so solemn-sounding an undertaking in just that tone. 
 	The dog-boy sat down behind Randolph. Conrad whistled again. Margaret, in an orange-and-white cap, came gliding out of the crowd, sleek and serene, a very creditable cat. 
 	She bumped her forehead into Randolphâ€™s knee. 
 	â€œThis,â€ said Conrad to Randolph, â€œis your cat. 
 	Cat, inform him wel . Child, this is the essence of subtlety; if you betray this one, al your stratagems wil be clear as glass to your enemies. Do you take this one as your fel ow?â€​par 	â€œI do indeed,â€​aid Randolph, cheerful y. 
 	Conrad whistled a third time, and the tal , lanky, solemn Jerome, wearing a brown-and-white cap, came nimbly out into the torchlight and bowed his head before Randolph. 
 	â€œHorse,â€ said El en, in tones of considerable approval. 
 	â€œThis is your horse,â€ said Conrad. â€œHorse, bear him wel . Child, this is the essence of swiftness. Betray it, and al your journeys wil bring you too late to your desire. Do you take this one as your fel ow?â€​par 	â€œOf a certainty,â€ said Randolph, and the complacence in his voice started a pain in Tedâ€™s chest. 
 	Conrad whistled. Matthewâ€™s other son, gray and white on his head, swooped in from the left, his arms outstretched. 
 	â€œThis is your eagle. Eagle, feed him wel . Child, this is the essence of cruelty; betray it, and there wil be no mercy for you. Do you take this one as your fel ow?â€​par 	â€œThis one most of al ,â€ said Randolph, and under the careless confidence of his tone Ted heard a grim amusement that almost choked him. 
 	â€œPage!â€​al ed Conrad, turning to Ted and El en. 
 	El en got up quickly and went over to him. â€œWhat service, my lord?â€ she said, which was probably safe enough. 
 	Conrad took two round objects from his belt; they sparkled and glinted in the torchlight, but Ted could not make out what they were. 
 	â€œDo you take these to your master and bid him choose between them, what path the Hidden Land wil take during the years of his reign. Bid him remember wel the choice of Shan, and al its consequences.â€​par 	â€œMy lord,â€ said El en, made him an excel ent bow, and carried the two round objects to Ted. 
 	They were medal ions of some sort, about three inches across. One of them was inlaid with a golden sun; the other was dark inside its thin gold border. 
 	â€œItâ€™s the tapestry!â€ whispered El en urgently, bowed, and moved aside so the crowd could see Ted. 
 	It was the story of the tapestry, al right: here he was, choosing between the hole and the sun. On the surface, the choice was obvious. Al the animals had run away from the hole in the tapestry; and from what Ted knew of Shanâ€™s story, al the world had indeed betrayed him, and al his stratagems had been laid bare to his enemies, and his most vital journey had been made too late, and no one had had mercy on him when he stood before his judges. 
 	But then why did everybody in the Secret Country swear by Shanâ€™s mercy? It was too obvious, it was too easy, to choose the bright sun and shun the dark places. The sun could burn you as easily as the dark could trip you up. Ted closed his left hand on the cool dark disk, and stopped. He was not choosing for himself; he was choosing the path of the Secret Country, not just during his reign, short as he hoped this would be, but during Edwardâ€™s, if they found him. You couldnâ€™t play games with other people, with a whole country and a whole history, because you thought the symbol of the sun was too obvious. In the ceremony this afternoon, he had promised not to do so. 
 	He held up the glittering golden disk in his right hand. 
 	â€œI choose this,â€​e said. 
 	There was a profound stil ness in the garden. If they were waiting for something more, Ted could not give it to them. 
 	But they had been waiting for Fence, who came forward with his moons and stars around him, his round face blurred in the torchlight so that only the bright hol ows of his eyes were clear. The cap on his head was white. He passed the line of animals, and Randolph, and the stooped form of Conrad. Only Randolph, sitting on the ground, did not stand tal er than he. 
 	He walked straight up to Ted, and took the dark disk from Tedâ€™s left hand. â€œThen I wil keep the part thou hast not chosen, shouldst thou have need of it,â€ he said. He turned around and moved to Tedâ€™s left; El en was standing on his right. 
 	â€œBow,â€​issed Fence, after a moment. 
 	Ted bowed; Fence bowed; El en bowed; Conrad bent stiffly; al the animals pranced and dipped their heads. The crowd applauded. Conrad and the animals filed past the fountain and disappeared into the darkness. The crowd stood up and rustled and muttered its way back into High Castle. The two boys took their torches away. 
 	Fence and Ted and El en stood in a row, looking at Randolph, who sat stil in the empty darkness with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with him?â€ whispered El en to Ted. 
 	She had actual y learned, sometime in the past year, to make a whisper that could not be heard for yards around. 
 	But Fence heard her just the same. 
 	â€œThe playâ€™s not over,â€ he said. He touched Ted lightly on the arm. â€œWhat did Shan choose?â€ he asked, a note of ritual in his quiet voice. He sounded just as any one of them might sound in playing the Secret. 
 	â€œHe chose glory,â€​aid Ted, and stopped. 
 	â€œThen do you give him length of days,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Fence had the dark disk that apparently represented length of days, and the speech he had made when he took it had not sounded like something you would say if you were going to give it up again. Ted was thoroughly bewildered. 
 	Melanie had given Shan length of days, just how Ted didnâ€™t know, though El en might. He was also having trouble with the fact that Randolph was playing Shan, so that, in some wise, what he did to Shan he did also to Randolph. Of course, giving Randolph length of days was what he earnestly desired to do. How, then? 
 	He remembered his talk with Randolph in the West Tower. White was for health. He snatched the cap from Fenceâ€™s head, ran across the flags to Randolph, and dropped to his knees. 
 	â€œYour cap, I pray you,â€​e said. 
 	
 	Randolph took his head out of his hands and pul ed the cap off. His wild black hair, so like El enâ€™s, sprang up around his head again. Ted took the red cap from him and held out the white. 
 	â€œYour health, my lord,â€ he said; he could not help the faint malice that showed in his voice. 
 	Randolph put the white cap on, absently; even in the dim evening his eyes held Tedâ€™s. Then he took hold of Tedâ€™s cold hands with his own colder ones, and they stood up together. 
 	â€œAl may yet be very wel ,â€ said Randolph; and in his voice, as in Fenceâ€™s, Ted heard the tone of ritual. 
 	Randolph let go of him, turned, and walked away. 
 	 â€œWell!â€​ said El en. 
 	â€œVery wel ,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Ted, turning Shanâ€™s red cap over and over in his fingers, wondered what he had done. 
 	â€œFence?â€​e said. 
 	â€œOh, thou didst choose wisely,â€ said Fence. â€œBut consider, didst thou so out of wisdom, or for that thy fatherâ€™s choice was the other?â€​par 	â€œEdwardâ€™s very wise,â€ said El en, with every evidence of sincerity. Ted suspected her of making a joke that only the members of the Secret could appreciate: Prince Edward was indeed wise, whoever and wherever he was; but Ted was not Prince Edward. 
 	â€œSo was Shan,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Neither Ted nor El en chose to respond to this. The three of them went silently inside. 

 CHAPTER 9

 	THE day after the coronation found Ted hustled by Benjamin from one council to another. Most of them consisted of endless reports from officers and artisans of what they had been doing to get ready for the battle. Ted wondered fleetingly why they always spoke of a battle rather than of a war. Then, with a jolt like coming to the end of a flight of stairs one step sooner than you expect, he remembered the Border Magic. 
 	It became clear to Ted that what Randolph cal ed the mundane army had been mustering for weeks. Probably the old King had ordered that; he had believed that something was happening down on the southern border. The sorcerers, on the other hand, were in a state of vast disarray. Some of them had been quietly persuaded by Fence or Randolph to prepare as they would for a battle with monsters, and the division this had created between those who agreed with Fence and those who did not had cut right down to the apprentices and made a tangle of political and personal grudges and al iances such as Ted had never imagined in his wariest moments. And even the mundane army was not entirely ready for this battle: the great strength of the old Kingâ€™s army had been the cavalry, and horses, said Fence, were afraid of al sorcerous creatures. Ted found himself hoping Randolph had kil ed the King in time, and was appal ed. 
 	Nobody asked for Tedâ€™s orders. He found this both a relief and an irritation. He would not have known what orders to give, but, being King, he ought to have been al owed to give some. Besides, it would be a poor present to the real give some. Besides, it would be a poor present to the real Edward, if they found him, to turn over to him a bunch of minions who always got their own way. 
 	He was therefore rather testy when Benjamin told him, in the early evening, after five councils but before supper, to come along to the armory and choose his sword. 
 	â€œFence has my sword,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Benjaminâ€™s face darkened. â€œThou art not trained to an enchanted weapon,â€ he said, â€œand it is overlate to change thy choice. Now come.â€​par 	Oh wel , thought Ted, fol owing him, it was worth a try. 
 	Fence must have told him al about it. 
 	The armory was under the Banquet Hal , and seemed even larger, for it was half underground and its slits of windows let in little light. Dim aisles, lined with racks of swords, spears, shields, stretched into darkness. Ted thought at first that there were enchanted weapons there; everything was so wel polished that it glowed even in so little light. But he remembered Patrickâ€™s description of the room under Fenceâ€™s Tower: weapons shining with their own light in every color. No, these were only mundane weapons. He could smel the polish that kept them so bright. 
 	â€œThey are making shield and helmet for thee,â€ said Benjamin, â€œbut for thy first battle thou must choose thy sword.â€​par 	Ted wondered how. Quite apart from wanting to get Shanâ€™s sword back from Fence so they could go home, he remembered the bout he and Patrick had fought in the rose garden. Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords had known what they were doing. It would have been a comfort to have them for the battle. He put no particular trust in the swords Patrick and Laura had stolen. Those were magical, but not, he would bet, that magical. 
 	He wandered down the long aisles, Benjamin at his heel. 
 	He fingered a grip now and again, but was not moved to do more. Perhaps he could find the sword he had had in his dream, the one that had fit his hand as one piece of a jigsaw puzzle fits into another. That would be a comfort, too. He wished he knew what it looked like. The dream-Edward had been thinking of other things. 
 	In the middle of the third aisle he found it. It slid into his questing handâ€”the right handâ€”as if it had been waiting for him. Ted pul ed it from the rack, saluted no one, and lunged with it down the empty aisle. Oh, yes, this was it. He stopped in mid-lunge, wrenched his knee, recovered, and stood staring. He had, in the dream, used this sword to try to kil Randolph. He had failed in the dream, but now he knew why, and if in fact they did fight he would not make that mistake. He looked along the blade. Should he play so into the dreamâ€™s hands, into the gameâ€™s hands? Did taking this sword mean he would kil Randolph? 
 	Ted parried an imaginary attack and sighed. With this sword he might not fal in battle. He could save himself a trip to the land of the dead and Ruth a great deal of worry. That part had been fun to act out, but he saw no prospect of fun in the reality. After al , he thought, in the dream I was surprised at the mistake, so maybe Iâ€™d make it anyway. And I can refuse to fight Randolph. I do refuse. 
 	He turned to Benjamin. â€œThis one,â€​e said. 
 	Benjamin came closer and looked without touching. 
 	â€œAh,â€​e said. â€œThat was Johnâ€™s.â€​par 	â€œI thought he was a sorcerer,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNot he. He but knew when to employ them. Wel , come: this may be a good omen. This sword was a curse to the Dragon King when last he came.â€ Benjaminâ€™s voice was not as pleased as his words, and Ted looked at him thoughtful y. 
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ he said, â€œIâ€™ve been meaning to ask you for ages. What are the Outside Powers?â€​par 	Benjamin shook his head. â€œThat question meeteth a different answer in every mouth. I wil say only, their color is red, their power beyond sorcery, their hearts not kindly.â€​par 	â€œClaudia,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Benjamin laughed. â€œNo need to jape with fogs and daggers, were she such.â€​e turned to go. 
 	â€œWhat does it mean if theyâ€™re rising again?â€​par 	Benjamin did not answer him directly. â€œWhen last they rose, the Border Magic kept them from us,â€ he said. 
 	â€œThey are not our sworn enemies, as the Dragon King is, but are yet inimical to us by their nature. I can tel thee no more.â€​par 	â€œBut I thought you said, at the council before Fence came back, that they made the Border Magic?â€​par 	â€œWherefore should it not therefore keep them from us? I say again, their nature is inimical to us. They might hurt us as a man in a hurry trampleth the grass. And they might undo the Border Magic as a man in desperate need wil destroy his own fences to get at his foe.â€​par 	â€œWhoâ€™s their foe?â€​par 	â€œI have said, I can tel thee no more.â€​par 	That tone brooked no argument. â€œBenjamin,â€ said Ted, struck with a sudden thought, â€œwhat about my dwarf-armor?â€​par 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Benjamin, dangerously, â€œhath told me it did fit thee but by a trick.â€​par 	â€œOh, wel ,â€ said Ted, wondering whether he had grown since Randolph measured him, but not caring to make an issue of it. â€œWe march tomorrow, then?â€ he said. 
 	â€œAt dawn.â€​par 	Ted thought he would take a nap after supper, to prepare and to compensate for the midnight meeting with his relations in the rose garden. 
 	The nap made him late, of course. He found the others by the blue and green glow. For an instant he thought they had their swords back. Then he remembered the ones Patrick and Laura had stolen. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re trying to decide who should have these,â€
 	Patrick told him when he joined them. 
 	â€œWe havenâ€™t even decided if weâ€™re going yet!â€ said Ted. He sat down by Laura on a stone bench, brushing a wet spray of roses aside. Petals drifted down the sword-beams, dyed purple and orange. â€œAnd put those things away; what if somebody sees the light?â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, sheathing the green sword with an uncharacteristic lack of argument, â€œI think, if we can do it without being noticed, we should try these swords and see if they get us home. But we shouldnâ€™t count on it.â€​par 	â€œRuth,â€ said Ted. â€œWhat do you think? Can you bring me back?â€​par 	Ruth nodded, and her hair swung in the sword-glow. 
 	â€œItâ€™s a very simple spel ,â€ she said. â€œThey cal it advanced sorcery because they donâ€™t want just anybody doing it. Youâ€™re supposed to save it for special cases. 
 	The sorcerers donâ€™t want the Lord of the Dead mad at them.â€​par 	â€œLaurie, wil you put that thing away? Are kings special cases?â€​par 	â€œWel , not any king. But a young one, who doesnâ€™t have an heir yet, and dies fighting the Dragon King, yes. It sounds like the Judge of the Dead and the Dragon King are enemies from way back. The Judge of the Dead made the Lords of the Dead let John come back to life, Meredith says.â€​par 	Ted stumbled for a moment over the idea of having an heir, considered the rest of what Ruth had said, and nodded. â€œIâ€™m okay, then. What about everybody else?â€​par 	â€œSorcerers of the Green Caves donâ€™t fight,â€ said Ruth, â€œand Meredith says Iâ€™m to come along to watch, so I guess they wonâ€™t try to make me do anything I canâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œDid Benjamin take you to choose your sword, Pat?â€​par 	â€œYounger sons donâ€™t get taken,â€ said Patrick, without rancor. â€œHe just told me to go and choose, and not, in my overweening ambition, to take one too long for me.â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t know Prince Patrick had any ambition,â€
 	said El en. 
 	â€œHe said he didnâ€™t altogether like my conduct at the coronation,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	
 	â€œWel , it was weird,â€ said El en. â€œWhat were you doing, anyway?â€​par 	â€œWe were discussing the oath,â€ said Ted, â€œand I want to know about Patrickâ€™s sword.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, â€œIâ€™d like an enchanted one, but then I thought, maybe we should give them to the girls.â€​par 	Ted looked at his sister, who looked away, but did at last sheathe the blue glow of the sword she held. â€œAre they going to let you guys come?â€​par 	â€œAgathaâ€™s been packing for us,â€ said El en after a moment. â€œWe even get to wear boysâ€™ clothes.â€
 	She paused. â€œI want to take our jeans.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t,â€ said Ted. â€œI donâ€™t know what theyâ€™d say around here if they got a good look at those zippers.â€​par 	â€œThey have running water,â€​emarked El en. 
 	â€œSo did the ancient Romans,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Ted said to El en, â€œAre you and Laurie supposed to fight?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m going to,â€ said El en. â€œAnd take the jeans.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™l need them to go home in, anyway,â€ said Ruth. 
 	Laura pul ed a ribbon from one of her braids and addressed the ground. â€œAgatha says we should see war in case thereâ€™s a change in fortunes and we get to be more than door wardens. Whatever that means.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m going to fight,â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	â€œIf you wanted to fight,â€ Ted told her, â€œyou should have been out in that yard every morning with Patrick and me. You donâ€™t know how. Youâ€™l get kil ed.â€​par 	â€œI wil not.â€​par 	â€œEl en. I forbid you to fight.â€​par 	â€œWho do you think you are?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m Edward,â€ said Ted. â€œYou swore me an oath.â€​par 	â€œNow look,â€ said El en, and paused, and said, â€œnow look,â€​nd was quiet. 
 	Nobody else said anything. The fountain bubbled like one of the purple beasts, and thin in the background some night insect creaked. Laura snarled the ribbon up, and Ted untangled it and tied it back onto the braid for her. She stil would not look at him. 
 	â€œIf you can do that,  how come you wouldnâ€™t let me swear to you?â€​atrick said. 
 	â€œYou did swear to him,â€ said Ruth. â€œI heard you.â€​par 	â€œYeah, but he made me qualify the oath first, so I was real y swearing to the King of the Secret Country.â€​par 	 â€œWhat?â€​ said El en. â€œYou whoreson dogs!â€​par 	â€œEl en!â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œThe undercooks say it!â€​par 	â€œThey donâ€™t insult their own mother when they say it!â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	
 	â€œWel ?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œYou wouldnâ€™t keep the real oath if you didnâ€™t want to,â€ said Ted, â€œbecause youâ€™d think it wasnâ€™t serious. And then youâ€™d get in trouble for breaking an oath. But if I made you think about it, and swear a limited oath, then youâ€™d keep that.â€​par 	â€œThere, El ie,â€ said Ruth, â€œyou and I have been complimented.â€​par 	â€œAnd Iâ€™ve been insulted, I suppose,â€​aid Patrick cheerful y. â€œNow, who gets these swords?â€​par 	â€œI think youâ€™re right; we should give them to Laura and El en,â€ said Ted. â€œNot to fight with, but just in case things go wrong.â€​par 	â€œWish Iâ€™d thought to steal more,â€ said Patrick. 
 	He made a figure eight in the air with the green sword, and sighed. â€œYouâ€™re right, I guess. Theyâ€™l need al the help they can get.â€​e put the sword away as Ted drew breath to yel at him. â€œCome on down to the armory with me,â€ said Patrick in his friendliest tones, â€œand help me pick out a normal one.â€​par 	Â 
 	They left at dawn. The morning was clear again. In the mil before everyone was organized, Laura looked for Claudia. 
 	Laura and El en and Agatha were to walk behind Ruth and the other students of the Green Caves, among the pages and cooks. Claudia, if she were coming, would hardly be with them. 
 	Laura climbed up the wal that overhung the moat, and watched High Castle empty itself, but she saw no one with black hair and a weaselâ€™s walk. As she began to climb down, she saw a group of women with spears, standing on the bridge over the moat. They were talking to Ted and Benjamin and Patrick. Laura was not sure she was speaking to Ted yet, but when the three of them came by she scrambled down the wal , tore her tunic, and caught Patrick by the sleeve. 
 	â€œWho were those people?â€​par 	â€œTed thinks they were the Queenâ€™s Council when there was a Queen,â€ said Patrick, â€œand now they hang around waiting for another Queen and doing what nobody else wants to do. Like staying home from the battle.â€​par 	â€œClaudia wasnâ€™t there, was she?â€​par 	â€œNo.â€​par 	Trumpets blew around them. 
 	â€œI have to go,â€ said Patrick. â€œHave you got your sword?â€​par 	Laura nodded, and went back to El en and Agatha to be scolded for tearing her clothes. 
 	It took much longer to march to the Wel of the White Witch than it had taken to ride there. Laura began by being grateful that they were not riding horses, but a few hours into the morning her knee began to bother her. 
 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t they bring the horses?â€ she snarled at El en. 
 	â€œHorses are afraid of dragons,â€​aid El en. 
 	Laura, thinking that that was very sensible of the horses, put her hand to the hilt of the sword and wondered if it would take them home. 
 	They reached the Wel of the White Witch at around breakfast time, according to Lauraâ€™s stomach. The Secret House sat lumpily on its hil in the sun, and the light gleamed off its many windows. 
 	Laura blinked and was caught. The spark of sun on glass shrank to a pinpoint surrounded by shadows. The pinpoint came closer, bobbing oddly. Claudiaâ€™s face sprang up behind it, and Laura realized that she was carrying a candle down a flight of steps. She had something over her shoulder. She came forward, and the candlelight showed a cel ar. Its floor was of great blocks of stone, like the floors at High Castle. Two of these had been propped up. Darkness gaped below them. Claudia tumbled her burden onto the floor and turned to set the candle on a shelf. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy!â€ said Laura. As Claudia moved the candle, it had shown Laura her own face in a tangle of hair on the cel ar floor. She looked like a rag dol . 
 	â€œWhat, what?â€ said El enâ€™s voice beside her. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t say that, Agathaâ€™l hear you. Did you stub your toe?â€​par 	Patrick came up behind and took each of them by an elbow. Laura screeched, and then stood dumbly shivering. 
 	â€œShhh!â€ said Patrick. He drew them behind a supply wagon, out of Agathaâ€™s range. She was unpacking something from another wagon, but kept glancing around for them. 
 	â€œTed says Randolph says we have to stay here long enough to tel the Wel what weâ€™re doingâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s what he said. And eat some breakfast. So look. Ruthie has to help with the Wel . But the minute thatâ€™s over, you guys slip away and meet us by the wooden bridge, over in the trees, remember? Donâ€™t forget the swords.â€​par 	â€œAre we going home?â€ said Laura. Oh, God, she thought, let the swords work. 
 	â€œWel , I donâ€™t think we decided. But we have to find out if itâ€™s possible.â€​par 	El en jogged Lauraâ€™s elbow. â€œCome on, letâ€™s get close to the Wel so we can see Ruthie.â€​par 	Laura came with her, hugging her elbows. Mother, mother, make my bed/Make for me a winding sheet/Wrap me up in a cloak of gold/See if I can sleep.  They didnâ€™t play that when they thought she could hear it, and they didnâ€™t sing it at al . But she had heard. Patrick tagged along with them. They sat in the dry brown grass a few feet from the Wel , and examined it. 
 	â€œStil looks wrong,â€ said El en. â€œI canâ€™t get over that pink.â€​par 	Laura looked up the hil she had rol ed down, and then squinted sideways at the house. In case they were not going home, she had better see just what Claudia was up to. She set him in a golden chair/She gave him sugar sweet.  Laura stared at the mul ioned windows, the odd sprouting round towers with their drapes of ivy, the red-tile roof going in humps like somebodyâ€™s drawing of the ocean, until her eyes watered. But she saw nothing except what was there. 
 	 She laid him on a dressing-board / And stabbed him like a sheep. 
 	A trumpet blew, and Laura jumped. There was a solid circle of people around the Wel now. The trumpeter stood on the other side of it from them. Behind him came a line of people in white, mostly women, but with one or two boys. 
 	They blocked Lauraâ€™s view, and everyone else was standing formal y, so she stood up, too. After a moment Patrick and El en joined her. 
 	Each person in white carried a wooden bucket with a rope. The first three took the lid off the Wel and leaned it against the side. Patrick and El en and Laura looked at each other, remembering their first meeting in this country. 
 	The first woman lowered her bucket into the Wel and then spoke for some time in the infuriating, almost-sensible language Laura had heard at the Kingâ€™s funeral. She heard El enâ€™s indignant muttering beside her. 
 	The woman took a ring from her finger and dropped it into the Wel , talked for a little longer, and raised the dripping bucket. 
 	â€œRuthie canâ€™t do that by herself,â€ whispered Patrick. 
 	â€œShe has to,â€​aid El en. 
 	The woman peered into her bucket and seemed satisfied. 
 	She carried it over to a group of pages, who dipped into it with a silver dipper and began to fil silver cups and hand them around to the crowd. 
 	One by one the people in white walked over the short dry grass to the Wel , and lowered a bucket, tossed in a ring, said a phrase or two, peered into the bucket, took it to the pages, and became part of the crowd. Ruth did al these things as if she were buying a box of cookies at the corner grocery: except that when she peered into her bucket her eyes got big and she made a muffled and not very dignified squeak. After the pages had emptied her bucket she put her hand down into it, brought it up with the fist clenched, and searched the crowd with her eyes. 
 	She found Laura and El en and Patrick, and came toward them as fast as her long skirt would let her. Nobody else seemed to notice her. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s our water?â€​emanded El en. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™l get to you,â€ said Ruth. She breathed as though she had been running. â€œLook at this.â€ She opened her hand. On her damp and grubby palm there lay, its gilt flaking off to show dul gray and its stone scratched and cloudy, the little dime-store ring she had given the Wel on their first day in this country. 
 	Lauraâ€™s breath went out of her. Even before the dul gleam of the cracked gilt blossomed into vision, she felt a swift conviction of disaster. The vision did not comfort her. 
 	She had a brief frozen glimpse of Claudia, and the man who looked like both Fence and Randolph, fighting with knives in a swirl of wet leaves. Then El en pul ed at her and they were al pushing through the crowd to the woods. 
 	â€œLaurie, have you got your sword?â€ said Patrick, in the tone of someone who is not asking for the first time. 
 	â€œSure,â€ said Laura. â€œRuthie, what does that ring mean?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ruth, viciously pushing between a plump man in leather and a tal woman in white. 
 	â€œBut,â€ she added as they gained the edge of the woods, â€œI feel kicked out.â€​par 	â€œYes,â€ said Laura; and she was not sorry. She patted the hilt of the stolen sword, and wished there had been a way to say good-bye to Fence and Randolph. 
 	
 	They tramped hol owly across the wooden bridge and scrambled along the edge of the stream toward the house. 
 	Laura tripped twiceâ€”the swordâ€™s weight put her off balanceâ€”but did not fal into the water. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s Ted?â€ she said after the second of these mishaps. 
 	â€œRandolph was talking to him,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œEl ie and I can test our sword anyway. Our bottle-tree is just the other side of the house.â€​par 	They went along through the coolness to the clump of bottle-trees. Even in her horror and bewilderment, Laura was fascinated by them. They looked as if they had been made, probably by a mad sculptor, rather than grown. 
 	Patrick and El en floundered about under their bulging trunks and got thoroughly scratched, but the sword took them nowhere except to the other side of the clump. They made Laura try with their sword, and then with her own, and got nowhere stil . Neither sword made her arm prickle, but even in the sunlit forest their blades glowed faintly. 
 	They went back to the bridge and found a highly irritated Ted awaiting them. He took the news about the swords and the bush with equanimity, but when Ruth showed him her gimcrack ring he looked appal ed. 
 	â€œSomething here has found us out,â€​e said. 
 	â€œWel , I donâ€™t suppose it can tel anybody else,â€
 	said Patrick, â€œand anyway, it wouldnâ€™t have to know anything except that that isnâ€™t the right kind of ring. Look, letâ€™s see if either sword wil get anybody through the hedge.â€​par 	â€œI guess weâ€™re lucky itâ€™s not worse,â€ said Ted, as they slithered along the bank again. 
 	
 	â€œWhatâ€™s not worse?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWel , Ruthie isnâ€™t real y a sorcerer of the Green Caves, and she did draw water from that Wel . Could have been a lot worse.â€​par 	â€œI did lose my Ring of Sorcery, though,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Ted stopped dead. El en bumped into him, and Laura fel over El en. â€œOh, God,â€ he said, ignoring the indignant cries and scrabblings behind him, â€œdoes that mean you canâ€™t bring me back from the dead?â€ Laura stopped trying to get up, and listened. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t think so,â€ said Ruth. She scowled. 
 	â€œOf course not,â€ she said, more strongly. â€œIâ€™ve never seen any of the Green Caves people use theirs to do magic. Itâ€™s a symbol, and it can be a defense againstâ€”wel , it can be a defense. But nobody uses it for any of the spel s Iâ€™ve been taught. Itâ€™s like an ID
 	card. We have to show it for a ceremony.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œthere wonâ€™t be any ceremonies â€™til after the battle and weâ€™l think of something by then. Come on.â€​par 	No matter who crawled under the hedge with which sword, it was stil the Secret Country on the other side. These swords would take nobody home. 
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Ted, â€œthatâ€™s that.â€​par 	They stood looking at one another. Patrick seemed indignant, El en cheerful, Ruth thoughtful, and Ted worried. 
 	Laura found herself wanting to try the swords again, in the way she would want to look again for a lost shoe which just had to be there. She wondered if she could sneak away and go back to High Castle. She would probably get lost, and it would be gal ing to have to ask for an escort, not to mention explaining herself to al the people back there who had wanted to go to the battle but were obliged to stay home. 
 	Besides, Claudia was at High Castle. Better to be as far as possible from Claudia and the Secret House. 
 	Nobody had anything to say, and they began to drift back toward the camp. Oh, wel , thought Laura. Maybe Ruth can bring me back if Claudia kil s me. And that was not part of the story, so perhaps they could go home before it happened. Tripping on the first plank of the wooden bridge and catching herself with a hand on the rail, she thought that she would not like to be kil ed even if Ruth could bring her back. She wondered if Ted felt the same way. 
 	They had missed their breakfast, and were al five scolded by Agatha. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth, as the army reformed itself and they had to return to their places, â€œat least she didnâ€™t say anything about Ted and me.â€​par 	â€œMaybe sheâ€™s on your side,â€​aid El en. 
 	The army swung a little to the west to cross a larger bridge than the wooden one. They took an amazingly long time to get across. Then they settled down to walk the lumpy and thinly forested lands behind the Secret House. There was a road of sorts, not as good as the one that led north from the Wel to Fenceâ€™s Country. At first Laura saw houses and fields of grain and cows grazing, but as they went on south the signs of habitation dwindled and vanished, and the land grew hil ier and wilder-looking. 
 	Lauraâ€™s knee gave out completely after a few hours, and Agatha put her in a wagon among the bedding and tents, with El en for company. Most of the army was ahead of them, which made it rather dusty where they were. But to see the long line glinting with color and sun on metal was worth a little dust. Laura and El en looked at one another, and El en grinned. 
 	â€œThis,â€​aid El en, â€œis an adventure.â€​par 	And for al her fears of what might happen after, Laura thought so, too. 
 	
 CHAPTER 10

 	THEY came to the end of the hil s that evening, and made their first nightâ€™s camp just outside the last forest, on the edge of a plain that seemed to Laura to go on forever. 
 	Supper at Agathaâ€™s fire was dul . El en tried to get her to talk about being Queenâ€™s Counselor, but Agatha acted as if the request were an insult. Laura could not see how anyone who had ever been a Queenâ€™s Counselor could sit around a fire at the edge of the woods and talk about sewing, but Agatha did it. Laura and El en gave each other speaking looks until that was boring, too. Before they could fal asleep or do something desperate, a boy about their age came to say that the King wanted them. Laura stil went cold when she heard that. She and El en got up and fol owed the boy to Tedâ€™s fire. He and Patrick and Matthew and Randolph and Fence were there. 
 	Fence turned out to be a good storytel er, and Randolph could play something like a recorder, which sounded much better than most of the instruments in High Castle. Matthew, to Lauraâ€™s immense surprise, could sing, which he did at Fenceâ€™s request when, after six stories, Fenceâ€™s voice began to give out. 
 	The first song he sang, she did not know. But at the first notes from the recorder, she saw Patrick, on El enâ€™s other side, shoot upright from his lounging position, scattering El en and Fence with dry leaves. Laura looked quickly at Ted, who was on her other side, but almost on the other side of the fire as wel , next to Randolph. He was frowning. 
 	
 	The songâ€™s tune was sprightly; its words otherwise: Â 
 	 Fear no more the heat oâ€™ the sun,  
 	 Nor the furious winterâ€™s rages;  
 	 Thou thy worldly task hath done,  
 	 Home art gone, and taâ€™ en thy wages. 
 	Â 
 	Patrick poked at El en and whispered. 
 	â€œShut up,â€​aid El en, a little too loudly. 
 	Fence, sitting cross-legged in his wizardâ€™s robe just beyond Patrick, gave them al a quel ing glance. They subsided. Laura wanted to hear the song, in any case; Patrick would have to wait. 
 	Â 
 	 Fear no more the frown oâ€™ the great; Thou art past the tyrantâ€™s stroke; Care no more to clothe or eat;  
 	 To thee the reed is as the oak: 
 	 The scepter, learning, physic, must 
 	 All follow thee, and come to dust. 
 	Â 
 	The whistle piped obediently its flourish, and in the pause between verse and verse Matthew said, â€œRandolph?â€​par 	Randolph, on the other side of the fire, lowered the instrument to his knee; the ring on his hand flashed, and then the silver curve of his circlet sparked in the firelight as he turned his head to look at Matthew. 
 	Matthew sang, â€œFear no more the lightning-flash,â€
 	but Laura only half-heard him. It was happening again. The first blue glint from Randolphâ€™s ring blurred and widened, and in place of the red fire and the sharp-shadowed faces of her brother, her cousins, and her inventions, she saw Lord Andrew. He stood in a bare, round room through whose windows showed only the high and empty sky. He leaned his hands on a plain wooden table, staring at its surface, on which lay a scattering of splinters and colored glass. The splinters came from a vicious gash in the tabletop, as if somebody had hit it with an axeâ€”or a sword. You could not tel from looking where the bits of glass came from, but Laura knew. This was how the room in the North Tower had looked, after Patrick broke the Crystal of Earth. Except that Andrew had not been there. 
 	Randolphâ€™s circlet gleamed again as he moved his head, and the vision was swal owed in firelight. Randolph was singing now, in a voice lighter than Matthewâ€™s, and one that sounded somehow less trained, but was very clear. 
 	 â€œNor the all-dreaded thunder-stone.â€​
 	 â€œFear not slander,â€ sang Matthew, â€œcensure rash.â€​
 	 â€œThou 
 	 hast 
 	 finished 
 	 joy 
 	 and 
 	 moan.â€
 	Randolphâ€™s voice faltered a very little; perhaps he had been out of breath from his playing. Laura looked at Ted again. He was staring at Randolph as if he expected him to begin doing cartwheels. 
 	The next lines Matthew and Randolph sang together, as Lauraâ€™s mother and father did, as though they were used to it:
 	Â 
 	 All lovers young, all lovers must 
 	 Consign to thee, and come to dust. 
 	
 	Â 
 	Laura wondered where Ruth was; Ruth, whose lover Randolph was supposed to be, except that Randolph had seemed to prefer Claudia. 
 	Then Matthew, â€œNo exorcisor harm thee.â€​
 	And Randolph, â€œNor no witchcraft charm thee,â€ and his voice cracked on the word â€œwitchcraftâ€ and barely recovered for the end of the line. 
 	Matthew, his face anxious, went on, â€œGhost unlaid forbear thee,â€ and Fenceâ€™s voice rose and mingled with his. 
 	â€œFor the love of heaven, Matthew, something cheerier.â€​par 	The stories he told had been funny ones, thought Laura. 
 	She did not understand what was happening. She looked from one to another of them. Matthew was obviously upset. 
 	Fenceâ€™s face was quite calm, and Randolphâ€™s hidden in shadow as he bent his head to the recorder again. 
 	â€œPatrick Spens,â€ said Matthew, quickly, and they began it. 
 	Laura knew this one, and was pleased. It did unsettle her, a little, to hear a Scottish song in the Secret Country. She smiled at Ted, but he was stil staring at Randolph. 
 	Â 
 	 The King sits in Dumferling toune,  
 	 Drinking of the bluid-red wine,  
 	 Oh, where shall I find a steely skipper To sail this gallantâ€” 
 	Â 
 	
 	The music of the recorder wavered, squawked, and fel silent. Matthew was silent also. 
 	â€œI cry you mercy,â€​e said after a moment. 
 	â€œNo, I cry you,â€ said Randolph. His voice was steady. â€œMy skil is someways rusty. Fence?â€​par 	â€œNot, I think, the whistle,â€ said Fence, cheerful y. He looked around. Laura saw that the boy who had brought her and El en had disappeared. 
 	â€œPatrick?â€ said Fence. â€œOf your courtesy, wil you go to my tent and bring me the lute you find there?â€​par 	â€œGladly,â€​aid Patrick; he sounded excited. 
 	He got up and walked off. Randolph unscrewed the two pieces of the whistle and began to dry them careful y, as Lauraâ€™s mother would do with her recorder. Ted watched him as if he had never seen anybody do such a thing. Matthew and Fence, looking at one another, might have been holding a long conversation by telepathy, if there had been telepathy in the Secret Country. The fire popped and rustled. In the otherwise utter quiet that had overtaken them, Laura could hear laughter and singing at other fires, and a discreet chinking that puzzled her for a moment. Then she saw, dimly in the trees behind Fence, the two armed and mailed men who stood watch there, one facing the camp and the other the dark woods. 
 	Lauraâ€™s sense of happy adventure was beginning to suffer. She was disturbed, as always, by any anxiety or discord among the grown-ups; and the guards had reminded her what she had managed to forget: that they were going to a battle, not to a picnic. She looked at El en, who was scowling at the fire. 
 	
 	El en looked back at her, and leaned over. Her sense of adventure seemed to be suffering, too. She looked worried. 
 	â€œMaybe I was wrong,â€ she said in Lauraâ€™s ear. 
 	â€œMaybe he is sorry.â€​par 	Then Laura understood. No witchcraft charm three, and Randolph had kil ed the King with a magical poison. The King sat in Dumferling town, drinking of the blood-red wine. 
 	And Randolph had put the poison in the wine. 
 	â€œWhat wil they think? â€ she whispered back. The songâ€™s the thing, she thought wildly, wherein weâ€™l catch the conscience of the counselor. 
 	â€œJust that he misses the King and doesnâ€™t want to be reminded of what happened,â€ said El en, serenely confident as always. 
 	â€œWel , heâ€™d better watch out.â€​par 	â€œThey think heâ€™s wonderful,â€ said El en, a tinge of the usual scorn returning to her voice. â€œTheyâ€™l never guess.â€​par 	Laura, whose other self, the Princess, had loved Randolph almost as much as she loved Fence; who would have loved him that much herself had not what she knew made her afraid of him, opened her mouth and closed it again. Even if arguing with El en would make El en change her mind, which was not often the case, she could not do it here. She said instead, â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with Patrick?â€​par 	â€œHe thinks the song proves something.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s Shakespeare.â€​par 	
 	â€œSo what?â€​par 	â€œHe thinks,â€ said El en, exasperation in her voice as she struggled to explain Patrickâ€™s thoughts, which were never either simple or pleasing, in a whisper, â€œthat it doesnâ€™t mean anything if they sound like Shakespeare, or even if they say some lines from Shakespeare once in a while, but if they sing a whole song from Shakespeare, then we did make al this up.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s crazy,â€ said Laura, automatical y. She had other things to worry about. 
 	Patrick, looking no crazier than usual, came back with Fenceâ€™s lute, and after an amiable period of argument during which first Fence and then Matthew tried to tune it, and Randolph was final y obliged to take a hand, they settled into an uneventful evening of music. They gathered gradual y a large audience and a number of helpful voices, trained and untrained. Agatha could sing, so could Conrad, so could al Matthewâ€™s family, so could Andrew. 
 	Benjamin could not, but nobody seemed to care. 
 	Laura, a disappointment to two musical parents, kept her mouth shut. Patrickâ€™s argument was gaining force as the songs fol owed one another through the dark hours of the evening. She knew almost al of them. Her father had records ful of them. â€œThere lived a wife in Usherâ€™s Well/A wealthy wife was she.â€ Her mother sang them around the house, baking bread or bathing the dog or painting the ceiling in the back hal that cracked every spring. â€œA lady lived by the North Sea shore/Lay the bent to the bonny broom.â€ Her parents sang them together in the evenings, when she and Ted were in bed. 
 	 â€œA holiday, a holiday, in the first month of the year/Lord Donaldâ€™s wife rode in to town, some holy words to hear.â€​ Her mother sang them to her when she had the mumps. â€œ â€™Twas in the merry month of May/When green buds all were swelling/Sweet William on his death-bed lay/ For love of Barbary Allen.â€ She sang them to Ted when Ted broke his wrist. â€œO what can ail thee, knight at arms,/Alone and palely loitering.â€ Her father, who very seldom sang by himself, could occasional y be heard warbling one or two when engaged in some particularly vexatious duty, like fixing the fence where Laura had run into it with her bicycle. (The bicycle had been beyond fixing.) â€œYoung women they run like hares on the mountain.â€​
 	Laura sniffed hugely, and then swal owed hard. El en knew these songs, too; she was singing them, grinning, her anger at Patrick and her misjudgment of Randolph no longer troubling her. 
 	Â 
 	 Oh, tell to me, Tam Lin, she said,  
 	 Why came you here to dwell?  
 	 The Queen of Fairies caught me,  
 	 When from my horse I fell. 
 	Lauraâ€™s parents had not seen her for perhaps two weeks, if she understood what Ruth and El en had meant to do with Shanâ€™s Ring, and if they had real y done it. 
 	Actual y, she had not seen her parents for three months. She had been furious when they parted from her, going cal ously off to Australia to visit Ruth and El en and Patrick and their parents, as they always did in the summerâ€”but leaving Ted and Laura at the mercy of the cousins on the other side of the family, the wrong cousins, who watched television and played hide-and-go-seek. 
 	Â 
 	 Oh they will turn me in your arms 
 	 Into a naked knight.  
 	 But cloak me in your mantle 
 	 And keep me out of sight. 
 	Â 
 	In that fury and frustration, there had been no time to miss them. And then she had fal en over Shanâ€™s sword, the scar of which she had stil ; and they had found the Secret Country, with Ruth and El en and Patrick waiting there already. Her parents were living in the same house as Ruth and El en and Patrick, but neither she nor Ted thought for a moment of asking after them. They had too much else to do. 
 	Â 
 	 Oh, had I known, Tam Lin, she said,  
 	 What this night I did see,  
 	 I had looked him in the eyes 
 	 And turned him to a tree. 
 	Â 
 	â€œOh, God,â€​aid Laura, and burst into tears. 
 	â€œLaurie?â€ said El en, who hated people who cried but had learned, after a fashion, to manage Laura when it happened. 
 	â€œI want to go home!â€ said Laura, in a wet and strangled whisper. 
 	â€œFence, for shame!â€ said the vigorous voice of Agatha, that only a moment before had been singing better than Lauraâ€™s mother. â€œYouâ€™ve kept these children hours beyond their bedtime, and look at your reward.â€​par 	She picked Laura up off the ground and stood there holding her by the shoulders. Laura was so horrified that she stopped crying. You didnâ€™t show a whole crowd of people that somebody was making a fool of himself. Agatha had, as her father once said about the high-school boy who drove the ice-cream truck past the farm every summer evening, the sensitivity of a deaf cow. 
 	â€œAnd these soldiers also,â€ said Fence, tolerantly; and everybody laughed and began to go away. 
 	â€œLet go of her!â€ said El en furiously to Agatha. 
 	â€œShe isnâ€™t a baby!â€​par 	â€œLet her not so behave, then,â€ said Agatha, smartly; but she did let go of Laura. â€œAnd mind your tongue,â€
 	she added to El en. 
 	El en, perhaps mindful of the slap she had received the day of the funeral, said meekly, â€œYes, mistress.â€​par 	â€œCome your ways, then,â€ said Agatha, and walked off in the direction of their own fire and tent and bedrol s. 
 	Laura managed a weak giggle. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with you?â€​emanded El en. 
 	â€œI want to go home,â€​aid Laura, drearily. 
 	â€œCheer up,â€ said Patrick behind them. â€œYou are home. Didnâ€™t you hear those songs? Right out of our heads, every one of them. Or do you think somewhere in the Secret Country people talk in Scottish accents?â€​par 	â€œPatrick,â€ said El en, â€œshut up. You promised Ruth.â€​par 	
 	â€œBut thereâ€™s new evidence. â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t care.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™d make a terrible scientist,â€ said Patrick, in his most scathing tones. 
 	â€œThank you,â€​aid El en, and did him a courtesy. 
 	â€œYou deserve this!â€ said Patrick. â€œYou deserve to be stuck in a crazy hal ucination. But why me?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said El en, in a tone Laura had very seldom heard her employ. â€œ I could certainly do without you. â€​par 	And taking Laura by the arm as if they were about to begin a dance, she walked her away from the fire. 
 	Â 
 	The next day they came down out of the wooded hil s, and began walking, with no great fervor, across the grassy miles and miles and miles before the mountains of the Secret Countryâ€™s southern border. Every once in a while the land would fold itself around a stream or spring, and there would be a few trees. But the army used these only for camping, not to walk through the shade of them. The sky was like a bowl of glass Laura had seen just before High Castleâ€™s glassblower cooled it, and al around them grasshoppers creaked and bounced. 
 	Something in the weather or the landscape seemed to be having a depressing effect on everyone. Last night, everybody except Laura and Randolph had seemed to be having a good time. But this morning, said Patrick, who came back from wherever he was supposed to be and walked with Laura and El en, you would have thought everyone had been drinking too much. 
 	
 	He said Fence and Randolph were grumpy and had infected Ted. It was getting hot by this time, and Laura decided that Fence and Randolph must have infected Patrick, who was infecting her and El en. They had a few sharp exchanges, and soon became too disgusted even for that. They marched along in a glum silence. It got hotter and dustier, but somehow no nearer lunchtime. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s wrong with everybody?â€ said Laura to El en. â€œI thought in the old days when war was a good thing everybody used to go to it singing.â€​par 	â€œI dunno,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re stil going to get kil ed,â€ Patrick said in his reasonable way, â€œand dead is dead, whether they get you with an arrow or an H-bomb.â€​par 	â€œBut for a good reason,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s a good reason?â€​par 	â€œDefending the Secret Country from monsters,â€ said El en promptly. She looked ready for argument, and Laura sighed. â€œNot to mention,â€ added El en, â€œthat weird Border Magic.â€​par 	â€œWeird isnâ€™t the word for that,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œWe canâ€™t even wait until weâ€™re sure theyâ€™re an enemy; we have to go fight them outside in case they are.â€​par 	Laura was alarmed. She reminded herself that this was only Patrick. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve been reading up on the Dragon Wars,â€
 	Patrick went on, â€œand one historian thinks that dragons arenâ€™t real y evil, but ever since the Dwarves cheated them in that deal over the Fabulous Mines, theyâ€™ve wanted their revenge.â€​par 	Laura thought of the dragon smiting the Secret House with fire. If Claudia had been in the house at the time, you could hardly cal that an evil deed. 
 	â€œWhy should they go bothering us?â€ said El en. 
 	â€œWe arenâ€™t Dwarves, and they donâ€™t have to come this way to get the Dwarves; the Dwarves live on the southern islands. Or theyâ€™re supposed to,â€ she added, with the caution that three months of unpleasant surprises had instil ed in al of them. 
 	â€œWe probably look like Dwarves to the dragons,â€
 	said Patrick. 
 	â€œWe donâ€™t look anything like them!â€ said Laura. 
 	She watched Patrick decide to bypass the chance for an insult. 
 	He said patiently, â€œDwarves and people look more like one another than like dragons; just like a mouse and a hamster look a lot alike to you.â€​par 	â€œI can tel a mouse from a hamster!â€​par 	â€œCan you tel a hawk from a handsaw?â€ said El en, but both of them ignored her. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s because youâ€™ve had a scientific upbringing,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œI have not! I just looked at them.â€​par 	â€œObservation, thatâ€™s the scientific method.â€​par 	â€œObservation means looking?â€​par 	â€œYes.â€​par 	
 	â€œOkay, thatâ€™s how I said the dragons could tel us from the Dwarves!â€​par 	There was a dusty silence. 
 	â€œWhat would you like to sing?â€​sked Patrick. 
 	But Laura, on reflection, did not want to sing anything. 
 	When they stopped for lunch, El en dragged Laura with her to ask Fence about the vil ainy, or lack thereof, of the dragons. They found him standing at the head of the armyâ€™s line, looking southward and shaking his head. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œThe spies have been withdrawn,â€ said Fence, â€œbut there is some presence here that mislikes me. 
 	Perhaps the Dragon King hath us in his looking glass.â€​par 	â€œWait a minute,â€ said El en. â€œWhy didnâ€™t al these spies set off the Border Magic? Theyâ€™re enemies, arenâ€™t they?â€​par 	â€œThe Border Magic regardeth enemies in arms,â€
 	said Fence, stil looking south. Laura looked that way herself, but saw only the long green plains of grass, with a smudge on the very horizon that might be dust, or the mountains. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said El en, â€œPatrick says the dragons arenâ€™t evil.â€​par 	â€œNor are they,â€​aid Fence, looking faintly surprised. 
 	â€œWel , why do they fight for the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œThey do not.â€​par 	â€œWel , who does fight for him if his own subjects wonâ€™t? Why wonâ€™t they?â€​par 	
 	â€œI think I must speak to Matthew on the matter of thy education,â€​aid Fence, not smiling. â€œThe Dragon King is the Dragon King; he is not King of the Dragons.â€​par 	â€œWho is, then?â€​par 	â€œBelaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œOh!â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œAnd why do you cal him the Dragon King if he isnâ€™tâ€”â€​par 	â€œHe is a shapechanger, and the dragonâ€™s the shape that best pleaseth him.â€​par 	â€œWhat do the dragons think of that?â€ said Laura, thinking of what dragons could do when displeased. 
 	â€œAsk not a wizard for the mind of a dragon,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t suppose theyâ€™d help us,  because they donâ€™t like him?â€​par 	â€œIt is not their task to help us,â€ said Fence. â€œIt may be their task to destroy us at the end.â€​par 	â€œOh,â€​aid Laura, hol owly. 
 	â€œWel , by what three things may the Secret Country be destroyed?â€​ence asked her, a little impatiently. 
 	â€œThe Border Magic,â€ she said, that being the only answer she knew. 
 	â€œThe Crystal of Earth,â€​aid El en, boldly. 
 	â€œAnd,â€ said Fence, smiling on them now, â€œthe Whim of the Dragon.â€​par 	â€œI hate that!â€ said El en. Laura suspected her of hating this sudden presentation of new and contrary information about the Secret Country, but Fence of course could not know what she meant. 
 	â€œThink not, three things may destroy us,â€ he said to her, â€œbut rather, a mil iard things may not: not flood nor earthquake nor plague nor sorcery; not even the jests of the unicorns.â€​par 	â€œAre dragons terribly whimsical?â€ said El en, dubiously. 
 	â€œAsk not a wizard,â€ repeated Fence. He looked south again, and after a moment Laura and El en crept away. El en was furious, and Laura thoughtful. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s go find Matthew,â€ she said, â€œand get educated.â€​par 	Matthew was with Randolph, arguing with him about the fire-letters they had found in Shanâ€™s journals. He wanted to cast them into the fire and play a piece of music traditional y associated with Shan, in the hope that whatever information was in them could be gotten out and thought about before the battle. Randolph, who seemed to have fewer doubts about the battle than did Matthew, wanted to save the fire-letters, do more research, and risk them to the wrong music only in a slow and orderly fashion. Laura and El en stood silently until this argument had begun for the third time, in different words. 
 	Then El en said, â€œExcuse me!â€​par 	They looked around and smiled. 
 	â€œFence was criticizing our education,â€ said El en, â€œso we thought we should get some more from you before we talked to him again.â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	
 	â€œAre dragons terribly whimsical?â€​par 	â€œNo; that is why we are in the keeping of the Dragonâ€™s Whim.â€​par 	â€œAnd there wonâ€™t be any dragons in this battle?â€​par 	â€œOnly in seeming.â€​par 	â€œIs it easy to break the Crystal of Earth?â€​par 	â€œHow thy thoughts run on doom!â€ said Randolph, laughing. â€œNow, I promise you, that even though the Outside Powers rise again there shal be no dragons in the battle; that the Dragon Kingâ€™s army shal not breach the Border Magic, for we wil be there before it; and that not Chryse herself could break the Crystal of Earth, even were half the Queenâ€™s Council not between it and her. Are you satisfied?â€​par 	â€œThank you,â€ said El en, so Laura had to go away with her, though she was not satisfied at al . She wanted to ask about Belaparthalion, King of the Dragons, and what might make him smite the Secret House with fire. She wanted especial y to know whether he had done it already, or if it was stil to come. She had seen somebody reading a book about it; but perhaps the book was stil to come. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said El en, as they went to find Agatha and their lunch, â€œPatrick couldnâ€™t have broken the Crystal of Earth because the Secret Country wasnâ€™t destroyed, and so what he did break wasnâ€™t the Crystal of Earth.â€​par 	â€œIt 
 	was 
 	something, 
 	though,â€ 
 	said 
 	Laura, 
 	remembering that frozen moment when the Secret Country had faded around her and she had seen again the dusty concrete of the Midwestern town she and Ted had been exiled to. â€œWe almost went home when he did it.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 11

 	FOR the next five days of the march, it rained. Sometimes it rained in a fine drizzle; sometimes in great sad drops that went down your back when you bent to lace up your boot, and hit the flint and tinder just as you were striking a spark, and plopped onto your wrist when you put your arm out of your bedrol in your sleep, and went into your eyes when you looked up to see if it was raining. Randolph put his whistle away because the damp was bad for it; Matthew got a sore throat; and Fence told worse stories, both in quality and in scariness, than any of them had ever heard in summer camp. 
 	Whether from the stories or from some other cause, Ted began to have bad dreams. He would find himself on a vast plain where red eyes came at him out of the blackness and unseen things chuckled evil y. When he pul ed his sword out they shrieked with laughter, and when he slashed at them they vanished. A wind came up with sobbing voices in it, and pul ed the sword out of his grasp. He ran crazily after it through the howling air until he came upon a man in a dragon mask, gray and intricate with red eyes, who held the sword and cut with it letters in the ground. Ted could not read them. They were in the alphabet of the Secret Country, and he could not remember it. 
 	After dreaming this dream four nights running, he could remember their shapes, though he stil did not understand them. On the sixth night of the march, when they had camped by a little wood, he got Ruth to come with him after supper to a patch of moss he had found, and he cut the letters in the moss with his sword and asked her to read them. 
 	She knelt, looking, in her brown tunic and leggings, more like his cousin than she had in some time, and squinted at them. â€œThe mask,â€ she said hesitantly, â€œof a prince, on the face of a beggar. I think. Thatâ€™s in the older alphabet and I donâ€™t real y know it very wel .â€ She looked up at him. â€œWhere did you get this?â€​par 	â€œI dreamed it.â€​par 	â€œWhat do dreams mean here?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know.â€​par 	â€œMaybe itâ€™s just a nice psychological dream,â€
 	said Ruth consolingly. â€œIt means you feel like an impostor. Which is sil y, but perfectly natural.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted. â€œThe other dream I had here meant something. And the man with the sword had a mask on, too.â€​par 	A drop of rain went down Ruthâ€™s back, and she shivered vigorously. â€œI almost miss Australian weather, â€​he said, standing up. 
 	â€œDo you think I should ask Fence about the dream?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t guess it could hurt,â€ said Ruth. She eyed him speculatively. She had been several inches tal er than he was to begin with, and had grown this summer, so she could do this impressively. â€œJust donâ€™t go trying to confess to him. He has enough on his mind without thinking youâ€™re losing yours.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted slowly. â€œI think heâ€™s the only person here who might understand what happened to us.â€​par 	
 	â€œWhat good would it do?â€ demanded Ruth. 
 	â€œWeâ€™d stil have to fight this battle. And we know too much for a bunch of strangers from another universe. 
 	Theyâ€™d think we were dangerous and I donâ€™t like to think what they do with people they think are dangerous.â€​par 	â€œI know, I know.â€ Ted hesitated. â€œDo you suppose Patrickâ€™s right about us?â€​par 	â€œSure,â€ said Ruth. â€œLook at what a good time youâ€™re having. Look at how happy you are. Look at me queening it over the army and being carried in a litter and pampered to death. Patrick thinks too much; such men are dangerous.â€​par 	Ted was unable to reply to a combination of sarcasm and Shakespeare, but he was not altogether reassured. 
 	When they got back to the camp, the guards on its perimeter, and the boys carrying water, and the men putting up the tents, looked at them with surmise, and with unpleasant expressions. They looked at one another with shock. 
 	â€œWe forgot,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œFenceâ€™l kil us, especial y after that kiss at the coronation.â€​par 	â€œHow long were we gone?â€​par 	â€œHalf an hour?â€​par 	â€œLovely,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence bore down upon them with a terrifying expression. 
 	Ted refrained from clutching at Ruth, which would only have made matters worse. She took a step toward him and then away again. 
 	
 	â€œFence, we forgot,â€​aid Ted desperately. 
 	Fence stopped with his mouth open; in itself a sight to dare much for. The hopes this aroused were speedily squashed, however. 
 	â€œForgot,â€ he said, as if he were cursing, and meant it to stick. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Ruth, â€œthink how easy it would be for us to forget if we werenâ€™t real y fond of one another.â€​par 	Fence was caught again with his mouth open. Ted fought down a wild desire to giggle. â€œIf you are not,â€ said Fence at last, â€œwhy al this mummery?â€​par 	â€œWhat mummery?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWe were fond of each other,â€ said Ruth, obviously hating it, â€œbut we stopped being. It wasâ€”it was a childish fancy. But we would like to talk to each other occasional y.â€​par 	â€œAs you did at the coronation?â€​par 	â€œThat 
 	was 
 	an 
 	impulse,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ruth. 
 	â€œBecauseâ€”because I was most marvelously moved at the ceremony. But if I were secretly in love with Ted, would I be so stupid as to give way to my feelings like that?â€​par 	Fence seemed beyond speech, but his mouth quirked. 
 	â€œCouldnâ€™t you tel everyone,â€ said Ruth, â€œso we can go talk in peace if we want?â€​par 	Fence looked as if he had had too much. He put the flat of one hand to his forehead and said, â€œIf this is some stratagemâ€”â€​par 	â€œFence!â€​aid Ted, before he knew he was going to. 
 	
 	â€œMy lord, I humbly beg your pardon,â€ said Fence instantly. 
 	â€œI hope so!â€ Ted felt quite unreasonably enraged, not so much on his own behalf as on that of the absent Edward, for whose existence he might in some wise be responsible, and whose reputation he must uphold. 
 	â€œTed,â€ said Ruth, in the tones of the sorcerer she was becoming. She looked both surprised and uneasy. 
 	â€œGranted,â€​aid Ted to Fence, stil irked. 
 	â€œTed!â€ said Ruth, in the cousinly voice with which she had always greeted his excesses. Ted remembered, suddenly and vividly, the time he had pushed El en into the pond because she let free al the frogs he and Patrick had laboriously col ected. 
 	â€œNever mind,â€​aid Fence to Ruth. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, â€œwil you come and look at something?â€​par 	â€œAnd leave me to deal with Agatha?â€ said Ruth, in a tone somewhere between scorn and panic. 
 	â€œAgatha!â€ said Fence. â€œAgatha wil take you by the hand and thank you heartily, that you have thwarted Benjaminâ€™s most untimely plans.â€​par 	â€œOkay?â€​aid Ted to Ruth. 
 	â€œOf a certainty,â€​he said. 
 	Fence and Ted clambered in silence to the patch of moss. Fence knelt, as Ruth had done, and scowled. â€œ
 	â€˜he visage of a prince,â€™ â€ he read, â€œ â€˜n the soul of a vil ain.â€™ That is from King Johnâ€™s Book.â€​par 	â€œOh,â€ said Ted, wanting to comment on the difference between Ruthâ€™s translation and Fenceâ€™s, but not knowing what it might mean. 
 	â€œHow came this here?â€​sked Fence. 
 	â€œI cut it there,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOh?â€​par 	â€œI dreamed it.â€​par 	â€œOh.â€ Fence walked once around the patch of moss, twitched as a raindrop went down his back, and said, â€œWhat else dreamt thou?â€​par 	Ted told him. Fence, startlingly, whistled. â€œWhat, I wonder, augers that?â€​par 	â€œI hoped you could tel me.â€​par 	â€œGreat good or great il ,â€ said Fence. He looked at Ted with curiosity. â€œDost feel like a vil ain?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Ted, â€œI feel like a beggar.â€​par 	Fence was nonplussed, and Ted was not sorry. They paced aimlessly back in the direction of the camp. A cardinal sang suddenly in the wet trees above their heads. 
 	They craned their necks and got water in their eyes. 
 	â€œI am weary of omens,â€ said Fence, â€œeven good ones.â€​par 	â€œWhy, have you had others?â€​par 	â€œA dream here and there,â€​aid Fence. 
 	The bird sang smugly on. The wet black woods dripped. A clammy wind crept along and tugged at their hair. Fence sighed, and Ted tripped on a tree root and fel flat in a puddle. 
 	â€œGood,â€ said Fence briskly, hauling him out. â€œAl wil think I have knocked thee down for thy own good, and be satisfied.â€​par 	Ted was not amused. Ruth was, and chortled, when she caught sight of them coming back, until Fence remarked that the whole army would be certain that Ted had tried to force her against her wil and been suitably punished. 
 	â€œAt least itâ€™s a new lie,â€​aid Ted sourly. 
 	Fence gave him a sharp look, but said nothing. 
 	Â 
 	After lunch on the next day they came to the mountains, which rose quite abruptly from the flat land, holding up the sky with gray and white and purple cliffs. The army of the Secret Country wound and scrambled to the beginning of the pass they would use out of their domains, and stopped for the night earlier than usual. 
 	Ted dreamed again. He dreamt that he and Lady Claudia sat in a summer garden and drank tea and fed the swans their biscuits. Claudia was offering him al the castles of the Secret Country, and the glory of them; but Ted seemed to have, running beneath his mind like the knowledge of fencing in his first dream here, an appreciation of her crimes considerably larger than his waking knowledge. He had no trouble refusing her. Claudia rose in a rage which did nothing to diminish her beauty, but did upset the table. Amid spil ed tea and broken china, she spread her arms and wailed at him like the things in his nightmare of the letters. 
 	Her eyes grew red like theirs and the garden faded to a blank white fog. A cold wind blew the fog to tatters, and Ted saw what he took to be the ocean. Shapes began to rise from the crinkled surface of the water. 
 	Ted sat bolt upright in his bedrol , cold with sweat, and Ted sat bolt upright in his bedrol , cold with sweat, and kicked Patrick without meaning to. 
 	â€œHave at you now!â€ shrieked Patrick, clutching at Ted. He flung himself, bedrol and al , upon his cousin and began to pummel him. Ted shoved a fist out of his eye and put his elbow into Patrickâ€™s stomach. The sword of the nearest sentinel hissed out of the scabbard, and he came running, a dark figure with the thin light of the fire in his eyes and on his sword. 
 	â€œItâ€™s al right! â€ yel ed Ted. â€œDonâ€™t hurt him!â€ He administered a soothing punch to Patrickâ€™s shoulder and demanded, â€œWake up!â€​par 	â€œUh?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWake up and shut up.â€​par 	â€œOh, no,â€​aid Patrick. â€œWas that you?â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€ said the sentinel, standing over them accusingly. 
 	â€œBad dream,â€​aid Ted, acutely embarrassed. 
 	The sentinelâ€™s disgruntled look began to try to be a smile. â€œMy lords,â€​e said. 
 	Fence strode up, tousled and perplexed. He was ful y dressed, however sleepy he might look. â€œWhatâ€™s the matter now?â€ he said, in the precise tone of an exasperated parent. 
 	â€œBad dream,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOh?â€ said Fence, in a different tone entirely, and sent the sentinel away. Ted and Patrick disentangled themselves and worked their ways out of their distorted bedrol s. 
 	â€œCome to my fire,â€ said Fence, taking each by a shoulder, and they came with him. He had built the fire under an oak tree which presented an alarming col ection of shadows in the fitful glow and rustled ominously over them. 
 	This gave a certain color to Tedâ€™s story and a distinctly grim cast to Patrickâ€™s. 
 	Patrick had dreamt that he, not Ted, was kil ing Randolph in the rose garden. Or at least, that he was trying to kil Randolph. He had dreamt that he was losing, not as a young prince, half-taught, might lose to his teacher, nor even as Patrick with only a few monthsâ€™ training might lose to his teacher, but as Patrick Carrol , who had mimed fights with sticks of wood, might lose to a Lord Randolph who never knew himâ€”quickly and ridiculously. Except that Randolph would kil him, and that was worse than ridiculous. Patrick could not tel it to Fence just that way, of course, but Ted had no trouble at al divining what the dream had been and how Patrick had felt. 
 	Fence was puzzled by both dreams. â€œBoth have elements I cannot understand, wherefore I may not tel you what they signify. As with thy dream of the letters in the moss, Edward.â€​par 	â€œCould Claudia have sent them?â€ asked Patrick. 
 	â€œYou said she did things with magic that canâ€™t be done, so maybe she sends dreams that canâ€™t be read.â€​par 	â€œMaybe,â€​aid Fence. â€œMaybe.â€​par 	â€œWhich elements donâ€™t you get?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence hesitated. â€œAh, wel ,â€ he said, â€œthese are your own dreams, after al . In this of Patrickâ€™s, then: the loss of power should come never with the teacher of power. 
 	And in thine, Edward, those of the red eyes have naught to do with water, most particularly with the sea.â€​par 	â€œAnd what about my dream of the letters?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThe dragon is not the mask of a prince,â€ said Fence. â€œAlthough time was when a prince was the mask of a dragon.â€​par 	Ted and Patrick exchanged resigned glances, and did not protest when Fence sent them back to bed. Always, always, they must stop asking questions before they understood the answers, lest someone realize how little they knew, how foreign they were, how tenuous their claim was to the powers and privileges they enjoyed daily. 
 	â€œWonderful,â€ said Ted to Patrick when they were back in their restored bedrol s. â€œWe canâ€™t hide anything around here!â€​par 	â€œYou mean the elements he canâ€™t understand were from ourâ€”our other lives?â€​par 	â€œI think so. I didnâ€™t know what he was talking about, but I bet we dream differently than people here do.â€
 	Ted thought. â€œWe should have asked him what those of the red eyes are. Do you suppose theyâ€™re the Outside Powers? Benjamin said red was their color.â€​par 	Patrick was silent. â€œIt felt like Claudia,â€ he said at last. 
 	â€œWhat did?â€​par 	â€œThe dream. I kept thinking I heard her laughing. I bet she dreams differently than people here, too.â€​par 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t you tel Fence you heard her laughing?â€​par 	â€œWel , she was laughing because I couldnâ€™t fence. 
 	
 	She knew. She knew about us.â€​par 	They were silent for a moment. The trees dripped slowly, and over by the fire one sentinel relieved another. 
 	â€œIn my dream, Claudia turned into a thing with red eyes,â€ said Ted. â€œDo you think sheâ€™s an Outside Power?â€​par 	â€œDid we unfurl her when we used Shanâ€™s Ring, then?â€​aid Patrick. He concentrated, assembling memory and information as none of the rest of them was able to do. 
 	â€œNobody saw her until the Banquet, which was after we used the ring.â€​par 	â€œBut things were going wrong before then,â€ said Ted, â€œso she couldnâ€™t be responsible for them.â€​par 	â€œWhy?â€ said Patrick, bitterly. â€œJust because she wasnâ€™t there? Why should that mean anything? Why should anything mean anything? We canâ€™t figure out anything, Ted: we donâ€™t know the rules.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l try to get more out of Fence tomorrow,â€ said Ted. 
 	It was a long time before he slept. 
 	
 CHAPTER 12

 	THE pass through the mountains might have been disappointing to the truly adventurous, but it was a great relief to al five adventurers, none of whom had ever even pretended to be able to climb mountains. The paths grew rocky and narrow, but they were below the snow line al the way. The army came, final y, to the spot where things al went downhil instead of up, and saw a dizzying view of the land beyond the Secret Country. 
 	Laura thought that it looked like a deserted sandbox stuck about with twigs and pebbles. Nothing moved from the end of the mountains to the horizon, except the air shimmering in the heat. Brown and yel ow and black the bare land fel to the smudgy line between sand and sky. She could smel dust and rock and heat. 
 	â€œThey say,â€ said Agatha at her shoulder, â€œthat this land, too, once had a Border Magic. Through a double treachery the Dwarves were made to march across its borders, and so it is as you see it.â€​par 	Neither Laura nor El en could find anything to say to this. 
 	They camped in a round val ey with a spring in the middle. 
 	The floor of the val ey sloped back toward the mountains and the stream from the spring ran, seemingly perverse but real y natural enough, back toward the mountains to disappear under a cliff. 
 	Laura managed to col ar Ted before supper and tel him what Fence and Matthew had said about dragons and the Dragon King. He seemed only mildly interested, and asked her what visions she had seen in things lately. Laura, feeling as though someone had jumped out of a bush at her, remembered the things she had seen in the windows of the Secret House. 
 	â€œI saw Claudia burying me in the basement of the Secret House,â€ she said, â€œand I saw five people standing by a stream, in the fog. They looked familiar, but not right. Andâ€”I saw Lord Andrew in the North Tower looking at the broken Crystal of Earth.â€​par 	â€œClaudia burying you?â€ said Ted, with flattering concern. 
 	â€œI thought weâ€™d go home before it happened.â€​par 	â€œI should hope so!â€ said Ted, stil staring at her. 
 	People hurried by them carrying wood and tents. â€œOr wait,â€ he said. â€œMaybe it wasnâ€™t you. Maybe it was the other one.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œPrincess Laura.â€​par 	â€œI am Princess Laura.â€​par 	â€œNo, the real one.â€​par 	â€œNow look.â€​par 	â€œNever mind. Come and have supper with me, and bring El en. Iâ€™m going to ask Fence some things.â€​par 	The five of them sat around Tedâ€™s fire with Fence, Randolph, and Matthew. Randolph and Matthew were stil arguing about the fire-letters. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, â€œcould we ask you more about dreams?â€​par 	
 	â€œYou may ask, doubtless,â€ said Fence, in a tone more encouraging than his words. 
 	â€œFirst,â€ said Ted, â€œLaurie, tel him about Claudia and the basement.â€​par 	Laura was mildly put out. That had been not a dream but a vision. And yet she had had dreams also, and would have liked to know what they meant. On the other hand, she would be tel ing Fence her vision, and that should please the unicorns. 
 	â€œI dreamed that Claudia was burying me in the cel ar of the House by the Wel of the White Witch,â€​he said. 
 	Matthew broke off his discussion with Randolph to say something like â€œFaugh!â€​n commiserating tones. 
 	â€œMatthew,â€ said Fence, â€œhast taught these younger ones aught of dreams?â€​par 	â€œNot yet,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œKnow, then,â€ said Fence to Laura, â€œthat this may mean one, or some, or al , of five things. It may be that this hath happened, that it shal happen, that thou fearest it may happen, or that Claudia wishes â€™twere so. It may mean only that she wisheth thee harm.â€​par 	â€œDoes that apply to the dreams Patrick and I had?â€
 	Ted asked. 
 	â€œNot to thine,â€ said Fence. â€œThat was an al egory, I think. Thy brotherâ€™s, perhaps.â€​par 	â€œBut couldnâ€™t Patrick and Lauraâ€™s be al egories too?â€​par 	Matthew laughed. 
 	â€œThere is a school of thought,â€ said Fence, â€œholding that al dreams are al egories. I myself have suffered true dreams both of past and things to come, and so I hold not with that school.â€​par 	â€œWel , what was mine an al egory of, though?â€​par 	â€œI know not,â€ said Fence, sounding thoroughly troubled, â€œbecause of those elements I told thee of yesternight.â€​par 	â€œYou mean,â€ said Laura, having thought through what Fence told her, â€œthat Claudia might kil me and bury me in the cel ar?â€​par 	â€œI think we can prevent it,â€ said Fence. He said this quite soberly, as if he were talking to another grown-up, and Laura was satisfied. 
 	Patrick, however, snorted. Fenceâ€™s head swung around toward him, but Randolph said, â€œFence, in what manner have we thus far prevented aught that she chose to do?â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence, â€œshe hath not yet chosen to lay hands upon any of us.â€​par 	â€œShe doesnâ€™t have to,â€ muttered Patrick. 
 	â€œAction at a distance.â€​par 	â€œThat is a skil of the Outside Powers,â€ said Fence, very softly. 
 	â€œShe?â€ said Randolph; even in the firelight they could see him staring. 
 	â€œIf she is of that family, she would not harm a child,â€
 	said Matthew. 
 	â€œWhat if sheâ€™s gone bad?â€​emanded Patrick. 
 	â€œForgive me; I spoke carelessly. If she is of the family,â€​aid Matthew, â€œshe cannot harm a child.â€​par 	â€œSheâ€™l wait â€™til Laura grows up?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œWere you grown up in the dream?â€​sked Patrick. 
 	â€œNo.â€​par 	â€œWel , then.â€​par 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, exasperated beyond bearing, â€œwhat are the Outside Powers?â€​par 	â€œHush,â€ said Fence. â€œSpeak not that name so loudly.â€​par 	Patrick snorted again, but nobody heeded him. 
 	â€œI tried asking Benjamin,â€ said Ted, â€œbut he just told me riddles. And what does it mean that they are rising again?â€​par 	â€œThey are a riddle,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œI know you know more than that! Why wonâ€™t you tel me?â€​par 	Laura saw Fence and Randolph look across the fire at one another. 
 	â€œ â€™Tis a thing kings must know,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Patrick made an explosive noise of profound disgust. 
 	â€œHe said not that thou shouldst not know,â€ snapped Fence. 
 	Laura stifled a giggle as El en poked her gently in the ribs and whispered, â€œThat showed him!â€​par 	â€œBut it beareth not upon our present distresses,â€
 	said Fence. 
 	â€œBut you said at the council that they were rising again, and everybody was upset. It sounded as if it had everything to do with this war!â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence let his breath out. â€œOnly in the same manner,â€
 	he said, â€œthat, if our weather-augurers were to tel us, during the month we propose to fight in the desert great dust storms wil come. Now dust storms are a thing of nature; the Dragon King bringeth them not. But they have a most potent bearing on the battle: where and how and whether it shal be fought.â€​par 	â€œBut when you said at the council that the Outside Powers were rising, Benjamin saidâ€”â€​par 	â€œBenjamin,â€ said Fence, with finality, â€œhath concerns past those of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	Laura watched Ted decide to settle for this, and then tap Patrick on the knee when Patrick shifted and began to speak. She was impressed that Patrick did not go ahead anyway. 
 	â€œMilady Ruth,â€​aid Randolph, â€œthou art silent.â€​par 	â€œI was wondering,â€ said Ruth, abstractedly, â€œif it was dry enough, my lord, for you to play the whistle.â€​par 	â€œI think not,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Everyone else thought not also: there was neither singing nor story-tel ing that night. But long after everyone was asleep, someone began to play a flute. It sounded eerie and everywhere, like a cricket in a quiet house. 
 	Laura had been dreaming, again, the dream in which she hurried through an autumn forest listening for a tune. When she heard it, she began to sing to it. Slowly the noise of men starting from their blankets and cal ing for torches, of sentinels drawing their swords and Fence cal ing for some book, grew around her, but by the time she realized that she was awake, she had been singing loudly for at least one verse. El en and Agatha were sitting up and staring at her. 
 	Then they stared past her with even greater shock, and Laura turned around and saw what they had seen. 
 	The musician came out of the woods at the foot of the mountains, glimmering like the moon behind a wisp of cloud. The night was stil , but his long dark hair streamed behind him. His cloak flapped but made no sound, his pale clothes were flattened against him, and he walked with his head bent against some great force. The light that came from him did not show up the trees he came from or the ground whereon he walked. He looked like Ruth and El en and Randolph. He lifted the flute he carried, and although his face and clothes did not catch the light of the watchfires, the instrument did. 
 	â€œWho claims this music?â€ he cried, in a voice so like Randolphâ€™s that Laura looked wildly around for him, half convinced that remorse and guilt had sent him mad. But Randolph was standing with Fence beside a fire a little way off. He looked, in the dubious light, perplexed and a little irate, like someone who wil be able to remember something if everyone wil just keep quiet. 
 	â€œWho made the claim?â€​ried the musician. 
 	â€œLaura,â€​al ed Fence, gently. 
 	â€œI know the song, â€ said Laura. She felt as if she had spoken out of turn in a word game. 
 	The musician looked across the fire at her. There was a light in his eyes, but it was not firelight. â€œWho art thou?â€
 	he said. 
 	â€œLaura,â€ said Laura, choked in time over her last name, and added, â€œPrincess of the Secret Country.â€​par 	â€œWho taught thee this music?â€​par 	Laura, panicked, fel back on the truth. Princess Laura was supposed to have a music master, but Laura had never seen him. â€œI canâ€™t tel you.â€​par 	â€œDimwit!â€ whispered El en. â€œHis name was Nathan.â€​par 	â€œWel said,â€ the musician told Laura, â€œfor I cannot tel thee whence came the flute.â€​par 	He moved across the grass toward her, stepping right over or through the fire. She could not see it through him; it did not cast light upon him; and when it was behind him he cast no shadow forward. He brought a breath of cold air with him. 
 	Laura, pretending valiantly that he was Randolph, stood her ground. He knelt before her on the grass, which meant she could look him in the face, and held out to her across his two palms the shining flute. He had a ring on his finger. The red stone in it was al the color he had. 
 	Laura took the flute. It was cold. â€œWel ,â€ she said; she resented him enormously for so embarrassing her. Then she looked at his long hands and kindly face, and was ashamed of herself. â€œMy lord,â€ she said, â€œI humbly thank you.â€ And she did him, as wel as she could in the short boyâ€™s tunic, a courtesy. 
 	The musician stood up and walked away into the forest. 
 	He faded through, and not between, the trees. 
 	 â€œWho was that?â€ said Laura, wishing they would not al stare at her. 
 	
 	â€œCedric,â€ said Randolph. â€œHe was a wizard and his skil was with sounds. He was the only one of al the wizards in history to master music. He was my six-times great-grandfather.â€ He had started on a pleased note, but he sounded a little shaken by the time he had finished. 
 	Laura remembered the unicorns. They had said that she would play Cedricâ€™s flute. Wel , here it was. Maybe Ruth could show her how. 
 	â€œFence,â€​aid Ted, â€œwhat does this mean?â€​par 	â€œRather ask a musician,â€ said Matthew. â€œThe prophecies touching Cedric have come down not from wizards but from bards.â€​par 	â€œWel , then?â€​par 	â€œIt is said he wil save us at the end.â€​par 	â€œIs this the end?â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Fence, dryly; â€œif it is, seemingly we shal be saved.â€​par 	Randolph looked at the circle of faces. â€œBack to your posts and your beds,â€ he said, cheerful y. They went as he bid them. Laura noticed how quiet they al were. They were not discussing what had happened. She wondered why. 
 	Ruth and El en came over to her and looked at the flute. 
 	â€œCan you show me how to play it, Ruth?â€ said Laura in an urgent whisper. Princess Laura probably knew how already. 
 	â€œWel , I could try,â€ said Ruth. â€œIsnâ€™t it beautiful?â€​par 	Randolph and Fence came over, trailing Ted and Patrick. 
 	Most of the others had dispersed; Agatha stil lurked, waiting for El en and Laura, and Matthew stood beside her. 
 	â€œMay I see it?â€ said Fence to Laura. She held it out to him. He took it from her, and she felt him jerk and stiffen as he touched it. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ he said, and his voice caught. â€œIf sorcery can save us at the end, then of a certainty there is enough here to doâ€™t.â€ He handed the flute back to Laura. She wondered what he meant. It was very cold to the touch, but it did not prickle as the enchanted swords did. â€œGuard it wel ,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Laura, accompanied by Agatha and El en, took it and put it in her pack. Then she took it out again and got into her bedrol with it. 
 	Â 
 	Fence and Randolph stared at one another in the moon-and firelight, and Ted and Patrick fidgeted. Ruth stood stil . 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, suddenly, â€œwhat about the fire-letters?â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€​par 	â€œI meanâ€”if this is a famous flute, and the song means something, if we used it on the fire-letters it might turn out to be right.â€​par 	â€œIf it were not,â€ said Fence, as he had said to Randolph several times already, â€œit would be the end of the manuscript, which would burn like any common parchment.â€​par 	â€œCouldnâ€™t you copy it?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt would then not be sorcerous. Half its virtue lieth in the substance whereon â€™tis inscribed.â€​par 	
 	â€œFence,â€​aid Matthew. â€œIt may beâ€”â€​par 	â€œSpeak to me in the morning, then,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Ruth said in Tedâ€™s ear, â€œFor pityâ€™s sake, donâ€™t get them to ask that child to play the flute! She hasnâ€™t any idea how.â€​par 	â€œGood grief, I forgot,â€​hispered Ted. â€œSorry.â€​par 	â€œI should hope so.â€​par 	Ted turned to find Randolphâ€™s eye on them. He did not look angry. Ted was not sure how he looked, but he did n o t want to see it again. â€œRandolph,â€ he said. 
 	â€œCould I talk to you for a minute?â€​par 	â€œOf course, my lord,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted took him a little way off into the dripping trees. â€œI just wanted to tel you,â€ he said, â€œthat I donâ€™t want to marry Ruth, and Ruth doesnâ€™t want to marry me. 
 	And,â€ he added, feeling this too brusque, â€œyouâ€™re welcome to be happy with her.â€​par 	It was too dark to see Randolphâ€™s face, but he made a startled movement. â€œThis is most convenient, my lord, seeing that I am betrothed to her.â€​par 	â€œYou donâ€™t act like it,â€ said Ted, without thinking. 
 	Then he remembered Claudia. 
 	Randolph was quite stil . â€œWel ,â€ he said at last, â€œI am amazed. What is the Lady Ruthâ€™s desire?â€​par 	â€œThat,â€ said Ted, â€œyou wil have to take up with Ruth.â€ He turned to go before he got himselfâ€”or Ruthâ€”into any more trouble, and Randolph caught his wrist. 
 	â€œMy lord,â€​e said, â€œwhy tel me now?â€​par 	
 	â€œBecause,â€ said Ted, his fear coming unbidden to his tongue, â€œI might not be here to tel you tomorrow.â€​par 	Randolphâ€™s grip on his wrist bit like a manacle. 
 	â€œNot while I have breathâ€”in which case it would not matter.â€​par 	â€œI know,â€ said Ted, suddenly close to tears, â€œbut stil .â€​par 	â€œEdward,â€​aid Randolph, â€œwho art thou?â€​par 	Ted was too startled even to jump, but he was sure Randolph could feel the shocked blood pounding in the wrist he held. 
 	â€œYou know as wel as I do.â€​par 	â€œMaybe,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œIf thatâ€™s too little,â€ said Ted, truthful y, â€œyou canâ€™t be sorrier than I am.â€​par 	â€œNo?â€​par 	â€œWhat do you want?â€​ried Ted. 
 	â€œThat thou shouldst tel me who thou art.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m the King,â€​aid Ted, desperately. 
 	â€œAnd what am I?â€​par 	Tedâ€™s throat hurt as if he had been running. 
 	â€œThou knowest quite wel . Now, is it meet that a king should give his cousin to aâ€”â€​par 	â€œBe quiet!â€ shouted Ted. â€œI wil not hear this!â€
 	So he had said, playing; so Edward would say when Randolph was final y accused of having poisoned the King. 
 	â€œI am the King and I give what I like.â€​par 	
 	Randolph let go of him. â€œAnd see naught but what liketh thee?â€​par 	Ted felt al the shame that ought to be felt by a king who was wil ing to marry his cousin to a murderer. In the damp dark of the woods his face burned. He stil found it very hard to think of Randolph as a murderer, or of his treachery as wrong; but Randolph did think of these things thus. There was, of course, no question of Ruthâ€™s marrying anybody here; and Ted did not want to marry Ruth: so tel ing the truth had seemed a harmless way of making things easier. But he certainly could not say that to Randolph. 
 	Randolph seemed to mistake his silence. He said, â€œConsider this. Fence squeezed from the napkins that wine you spil ed from my hand.â€ He looked at Tedâ€™s face, and his mouth twisted. â€œAnd he gave it to Matthew, who is something of an alchemist. And he did find therein, not a poison, but an antidote therefor.â€​par 	â€œAndrew was mad because I spil ed his antidote?â€​par 	â€œSo â€™twould seem.â€​par 	â€œBut howâ€™d he know thereâ€™d be anything for it to be an antidote for?  I mean, it makes sense he didnâ€™t want the King kil ed, because the King agreed with him, butâ€”â€​par 	â€œI know not,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted barely heard this. Coldness had washed through him. 
 	â€œOh, God,â€​e said. â€œShanâ€™s mercy, my lord. If I hadnâ€™t spil ed the antidote the King wouldâ€™ve drunk that with the poison.â€​par 	Randolph nodded. His face was impassive. He watched Ted as if Ted were a pan of fudge about to lose its shine. 
 	
 	â€œThis is awful,â€ said Ted. He had kil ed the King. The one part of the game they had tried most earnestly to change, he himself had accomplished. He began to laugh, painful y and found that tears were running down his face. 
 	â€œSo close were we come to immediate salvation and final doom,â€ said Randolph. â€œBut see you that Andrew, on whom Fence would most quickly put the blame, is now safe from it?â€​par 	Ted wiped his eyes. 
 	â€œSo have a care,â€ said Randolph, â€œthat you use me not in your deeper-laid plans. I wil not be here.â€​par 	They turned and went in silence back to the camp. 
 	
 CHAPTER 13

 	THE army of the Dragon King was two days late. This seemed to afford great satisfaction to Fence and Randolph, and to unsettle Andrew considerably. 
 	â€œMaybe he is a spy of the Dragon King,â€ said Ted to Patrick, in the middle of the second day. It was too hot to do anything in particular, even if their nervousness would have al owed them to be interested. 
 	â€œI think so,â€ said Patrick. â€œIâ€™ve been talking to the Peoniesâ€”thatâ€™s his companyâ€”and theyâ€™re mad at him because he told them the army was leaving two days later than it did, and Conrad yel ed at them,  not Andrew, for not being ready.â€​par 	They had learned a little about the organization of the army. Its smal est unit seemed to be cal ed a company, to consist of twenty-four men, and to be named after a flower. 
 	The companies were col ected into fel owships, which were named after jewels, and the fel owships into orders, which were named after trees. This was the mundane army; how the sorcerers were organized, how the two were to be combined, and who exactly was running things, they did not know. Most of the Kingâ€™s counselors commanded mere companies, Conrad being the notable exception. 
 	â€œAnd who told Andrew?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know, but Iâ€™l bet it was Fence.â€​par 	â€œHe did take Laura seriously when she said Andrew was a spy.â€​par 	â€œNot seriously enough, or he wouldnâ€™t let Andrew keep that company.â€​par 	â€œCouldnâ€™t he put it where it canâ€™t do any harm?â€​par 	â€œIf he can afford to waste twenty-four men, sure.â€​par 	â€œHow big is the Dragon Kingâ€™s army?â€​par 	Patrick looked at him, and looked away. 
 	â€œHowâ€™d you get the Peonies to talk to you?â€
 	said Ted hastily. 
 	â€œChildish blandishments,â€ said Patrick, grinning, and showed Ted a blue-eyed stare that made him look closer to ten than to thirteen. 
 	 â€œWhat?â€​
 	â€œNever mind,â€​aid Patrick, looking secretive. 
 	There seemed no conversation possible that did not suddenly develop pitfal s. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s go practice fencing,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Â 
 	On the third day, the day they expected the Dragon King, Fence got them al up before dawn. Ted sat hunched over a fire, eating lumpy oatmeal brought to him by Agatha, and watched the clear red light chase the stars down behind the mountains. It was chil y. The mountains looked forbidding, and the bare land before them parched and miserable in the growing light. Ted had a cold knot in the center of his stomach, which the oatmeal did nothing to al eviate. He wondered how soon he would be kil ed. 
 	There was a great deal of purposeful bustle going on, which no one had bothered to explain to him. Ted became irritated. Even if your minions had it al their own way, they might do you the courtesy of tel ing you what they were up to. 
 	Thinking of minions reminded Ted of El en, and he thought of going and tel ing her once more that she was not to fight in the battle. But if he insulted her by the reminder, she might go just to spite him. 
 	In the end he found Agatha. She was wearing a sword, which suited her very wel , and building up fires, which suited her equal y wel . I bet she was a good Queenâ€™s Counselor, thought Ted. I wonder why the King didnâ€™t want her. 
 	â€œThe Lady El en,â€ he said to her, â€œhas thoughts of fighting in the battle.â€​par 	The moment he had said it he was sorry. This was the ultimate betrayal: going to a grown-up to solve a problem. 
 	Especial y in the Secret, even if it was not the Secret they knew, it seemed reprehensible. But surely letting El en get herself kil ed would be worse. Agatha looked at him with resignation, and assured him that El en would be far too busy with carrying water and rol ing bandages to sneak off to the battle. Ted thanked her and crept off to be col ared by Fence and Randolph. 
 	Both of them seemed perfectly calm, though Ted did notice, again, that Randolph was thinner than he had been and looked as if his head hurt. If it did, this did not stop him from giving Ted and Patrick a brisk and compressed lecture on how they were to conduct themselves during the battle. 
 	Ted was to fight with Matthewâ€™s company, whose badge was a bloom of lilac. He was to stay with the company. 
 	People wearing a yel ow feather were messengers: if one told him to do something, he was to do it; and if he saw anything amiss, he was to find a messenger and so inform him. Patrick was to do likewise, except that he would be with Benjaminâ€™s company, whose badge was a daisy. 
 	Ted, receiving these instructions silently, thought of his mother, when he was much younger, delivering him to a birthday party with mild reminder not to throw the present at Adam Simmons no matter what Adam said to him; to say â€œpleaseâ€ when he wanted something and â€œthank youâ€ when he was given something, whether he wanted it or not; and to inform his hostess he had had a nice time even if he had hated every child there and his dumb sister Laura could have made a better cake. 
 	These reflections made him feel worse rather than better. 
 	They left a body of soldiers with the camp and moved the main army out a mile or so into the desert, since the surveyors they had brought were not as sure as they ought to have been about where the borders of the Secret Country were. Randolph, most uncharacteristical y, snapped at them, and was rewarded with a lecture from Fence concerning the possible actions of sorcery upon geography. Patrick, whom Ted and Fence and Randolph had col ected on their way, shut his mouth on the suggestion that this was because none of the five children who had made up this story knew the first thing about surveying, doing so in such a way that Ted knew exactly what he was not saying. This did not improve Tedâ€™s temper. 
 	When the army was safely into the desert it sat down and waited. Ted saw people playing cards and dice and chess, and other things he did not recognize. 
 	â€œThey must be crazy,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	He sounded so resentful that Ted stared at him. Patrick was scared, too. This was alarming. Ruth was the only one of his three cousins who had ever seemed to be afraid of anything. It was probably good for Patrick to be frightened, but Ted wished he had not noticed it. 
 	â€œCheer up,â€ he said stiffly. â€œIt isnâ€™t real, after al .â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s nothing either good nor bad,â€ said Patrick, venomously, â€œbut thinking makes it so.â€​par 	â€œStart thinking, then,â€ said Ted, and walked away before he could say something nastier, or be sorry he had said anything. 
 	He almost fel over Randolph and Fence, who sat a little apart, drawing lines in the sand and putting pebbles on them and murmuring to each other. 
 	â€œThose donâ€™t look like any battle plans I ever saw,â€​aid Ted over Fenceâ€™s shoulder. 
 	â€œThis is wizardry,â€ said Fence tranquil y. â€œI have neglected my apprentice of late.â€​par 	Ted looked at the ring on Randolphâ€™s finger. 
 	â€œWhat ails thee?â€ Fence asked him, without even looking around. 
 	â€œIâ€™m nervous,â€ said Ted truthful y, and sat down in the sand. 
 	â€œThis wil occupy your mind,â€ said Fence, and shifted so Ted could see. â€œThese are spel s of opening and closing. When thou comest to cast them,â€ he said to Randolph, â€œâ€™twere best thou hold the patterns in thy mind. To draw the runes is to do much damage. The Dragon King draweth runes for them, and he shattereth mountains.â€​par 	
 	â€œOh, wonderful!â€ said Ted. â€œCould he shatter us, too, if he liked?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Fence crisply, â€œhe could notâ€”not in this manner. Where is thy scholarâ€™s abstraction? That is not the point.â€​par 	â€œFence, have some heart,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œThat is neither for scholars nor for wizards,â€ said Fence, with an austerity that seemed to chil the growing heat of the desert. 
 	â€œAnd for friends?â€ said Randolph. Ted looked away from his searching and ironic eyes. 
 	Fence flung his hands up. â€œYou are both a trial,â€ he said. 
 	â€œNo doubt,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted, seeing far away something even worse than the look in Randolphâ€™s eyes, sprang to his feet, scattering sand. 
 	â€œLook!â€​par 	They looked to the east, squinting at the early sun. 
 	Crawling across the desert were a line of black specks and a cloud of dust. Crawling across the sky was another line of specks. Fence and Randolph snatched up helmet and sword and were gone in opposite directions, shouting. Ted looked down at the pattern they had left in the sand, and shivered. 
 	Â 
 	The Lilacs, when they came to fetch him, seemed rather preoccupied and subdued. Ted had somehow expected them to be pleased that theirs was the company chosen to fight with the King. A very little reflection, as they trudged to their appointed place in the desert between the Daisies and the Mal ows, showed him that this expectation had been foolish. They might be blamed if anything happened to him. 
 	Even if his protection was delegated solely to Matthew, that would keep Matthew from doing whatever else he was supposed to do as captain of a company. Ted was a charge and a nuisance, that was al . Wel , Edward wouldnâ€™t have been any better; he was much shyer than Ted and hated fighting. 
 	Matthew, having arranged his men in a peculiar pattern that made no sense at al to Ted, came up to him and smiled the smile of a parent who was about to take you in for a tetanus booster because you could not remember what you had stepped on. 
 	â€œHast been told of shape-shifters?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	They were always harder to understand when they got excited or worried. â€œI donâ€™t think so,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œTo kil them once sufficeth not; thou must kil each of their shapes.â€​par 	â€œHow many do they have?â€ asked Ted, saw the face o f the scholar begin to overtake Matthewâ€™s soldierly mask, and added quickly, â€œGeneral y?â€​par 	â€œSeven or nine,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œGreat.â€​par 	â€œThe spies say there are many.â€​par 	â€œGreat,â€ said Ted, and was immediately sorry. This wasnâ€™t Matthewâ€™s fault. 
 	Matthew looked down at him without anger. His fair skin was already red with the heat. â€œI wish for my books also,â€​e said softly. 
 	
 	Ted found it easy to smile at him. This was what Patrick would cal a lovely irony. The last thing Ted wished for was his books. He was in one of his books, in the most exciting chapter of al , and wished earnestly to beâ€”where? Not back at the Barrettsâ€™, being polite and watching television. Not even on the Pennsylvania farm, playing at war in the meadow. He was extremely frightened; but while he wished he was somewhere else, he could not think where. 
 	â€œAl may yet be very wel ,â€ said Matthew, as if he wished it were something better. 
 	â€œMy lord,â€ said one of his men, in the tone of somebody asking for the salt. â€œThey come.â€​par 	The battle was not like a riot. Ted could not see what in the world he was doing, nor very much of what anyone else was trying to do to him. 
 	Matthewâ€™s careful y laid-out pattern disintegrated within ten minutes. In that time, three squat scaled things came at Ted, who swung at them al and missed, and were dispatched by Matthew. 
 	â€œAim lower!â€ shouted Matthew. He was two feet away and Ted could barely hear him. The din was unbelievable, worse than the tornado that had flattened the old barn three years ago. It had that huge rattling sound like a train, compounded with the sound of six hundred three-year-olds beating on pots with spoons, shrieks, growls, and hisses as of a record-breaking cat fight, and other screams that were like nothing Ted had ever heard and that obliterated instantly what little levity he had left in him. 
 	He swiped the sword at another scaled creature, obediently aiming lower, and succeeded in changing it into an enormous snake. He managed to cut off this oneâ€™s head, but not with any of the moves so painstakingly taught him by Randolph. He used the good, solid motion his mother had shown him when he demanded to be al owed to chop wood. 
 	The snake fel into two pieces and the churned sand around it darkened with green. Somebody else must have kil ed it several times already, or else the Dragon King was using cut-rate monsters. 
 	â€œEdward!â€​el ed Matthew. 
 	Ted stopped staring and backed up hastily while Matthew kil ed the wolf that had sprung at him. Matthew actual y did use a fencing move, except that he had altered it byâ€”The wolf disintegrated quietly into a shower of stones, Matthew shouted again, urgently, and Ted stopped thinking. 
 	Once he had cleared his mind, the sword seemed to come to life; or more likely, that undercurrent of knowledge from Edward was able to work its way up and direct his arm. 
 	Every time he tried to analyze what he was doing, he missed his aim and had to be rescued by Matthew. After the third rescue, Ted stopped trying to analyze anything. The day grew hotter. What Ted remembered best of the morning was just the acute discomfort of sun and sweat and thirst and the irritating way his helmet-strap rubbed his ear. 
 	Fence found him at noon, said six short words which disposed of the snaky thing he was fighting, and made him come back to camp and have something to eat. Laura brought it to him, staring at his sword and clothes. 
 	â€œWhoâ€™s winning?â€ asked Ted through a mouthful of dust. It was the first thing he had said since, â€œLook!â€​par 	Fence shrugged, scattering sand and debris from his shoulders. Thin in the background against the vast silence of the desert the noise of the battle went on. Ted felt a reluctance to go back to it akin to the reluctance one has to go on hiking after a rest stop. He felt torpid. Fence got up and went away. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s El ie?â€​ed asked Laura. 
 	â€œWashing bandages,â€​aid Laura to the ground. 
 	â€œYouâ€™l stop her, wonâ€™t you, if she tries to go fight?â€​par 	â€œAgatha wonâ€™t let her,â€ said Laura, but this seemed to have been the right thing to say. At least she looked at him. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s too quick for Agatha,â€ said Ted, and Laura smiled at him. 
 	Fence came back with pen and paper and a writing-board. â€œThe enemyâ€™s sorcerers being for the moment discomposed,â€ he said, â€œand Conrad having the soldiers wel in hand, â€™tis time for thy chal enge to the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œWho hath conducted thy education?â€ said Fence, despairingly. 
 	â€œYou canâ€™t mean chal enge the Dragon King to single combat?â€​par 	â€œThou needst not fight thyself,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œThou hast a champion, my lord.â€​par 	â€œWel , who?â€​par 	â€œI for the arcane, Randolph for the mundane.â€​par 	â€œGreat,â€ said Ted, but he took the materials. In the end Fence, having explained that the single combat was to spare any more slaughter than had already taken place, and having failed to explain why it was not issued before any slaughter had happened, had to dictate the letter to him. He wondered what Fence would think of the Roman alphabet, but Fence, scanning the paper when Ted had done, seemed not to think it strange. He went off to arrange for its delivery. 
 	â€œLaurie,â€ said Ted, â€œdo you remember anything about a chal enge?â€​par 	â€œOnly once or twice,â€ said Laura. â€œWe had to stop having the single combat after you stuck Patrick in the shoulder with the branch, because the Dragon King got to choose the weapon, and Patrick wouldnâ€™t choose anything smal er. And then for a while we said that Edward gave the chal enge, but the Dragon King didnâ€™t care about honor so he refused it. And then it seemed dumb to give it if we couldnâ€™t have the fight, so we just stopped.â€​par 	â€œBut nothing about a kingâ€™s champion?â€​par 	â€œUh-uh.â€​par 	â€œOh, wel ,â€ said Ted, â€œI should give up expecting things.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s easy,â€ said Laura. â€œItâ€™s the unexpected things that are the trouble.â€​par 	â€œHave you been seeing things again?â€​par 	â€œNo. But there was one I forgot to tel you.â€ And she told him about the dragon burning the Secret House, and about the man with the book, reading about the dragon burning the Secret House, that she had seen on the steps leading to the enchanted armory below Fenceâ€™s tower. 
 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€ said Ted. â€œIâ€™ve heard that before.â€​par 	â€œThey did a song about it the other night. And Fence said Belaparthalion was the King of the Dragons.â€​par 	â€œNo, before that. Iâ€™ve got it. At the council after Fence came back. Andrew said he couldnâ€™t accuse Fence of treachery because anybody could have told somebody something, I forget who or what. And Fence said not 
 	just 
 	anybody could, and he asked Andrew if Belaparthalion had honored us with his presence.â€​par 	â€œHuh,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œAnd thatâ€™s not al . Randolph and Belaparthalion had to be raised or consulted or something before the coronation. But we had the coronation al right, and there certainly wasnâ€™t a dragon there. I think thatâ€™s what he said.â€ Ted scowled. â€œYes, thatâ€™s right. He said that we had to wait for Chryse and raise Belaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œChryse?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​par 	â€œI know Chryse; itâ€™s a unicorn; I talked to it the day of the Hunt.â€​par 	â€œYou what?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s why I started tel ing you al these things I see; Chryse said to.â€​par 	â€œIf Iâ€™d known that I wouldnâ€™t have waited so long to tel Fence about them,â€ said Ted. â€œWeâ€™d better do that right away.â€​par 	Lord Randolph, looking as if someone had emptied a flour sack over his head, came back to them and sat down heavily upon a stump. â€œThy chal enge hath been delivered,â€​e said. â€œStay yet a while for the answer.â€​par 	â€œWhereâ€™s Fence?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Randolphâ€™s mouth twisted. â€œBattling some kitchen-wizard. Better he left such work to his apprentices.â€​par 	Ted and Laura looked at one another. Ted shrugged, and Laura shook her head. 
 	â€œWhat do you know about visions?â€ Ted asked Randolph. 
 	â€œMore than I care to,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWel , Laurieâ€™s been having them.â€​par 	Randolph looked at Laura, who looked at his foot. 
 	â€œOf what nature?â€​par 	â€œIf I look at a light or a fire, or something reflecting off something, then I see things.â€​par 	â€œWhat manner of things?â€​par 	Laura, sounding as if she were reciting a list of the principal exports of Brazil, reeled off the things she had seen. Ted noticed that she did not mention the sight of him covered with blood on a field of battle. 
 	â€œAl the stars in heaven,â€ said Randolph, staring. 
 	â€œFirst that, and now the flute. Child, what art thou?â€​par 	â€œWhat do they mean?â€ said Laura, her voice quavering. 
 	â€œThou hast seen naught bearing on this present battle?â€​par 	
 	â€œNo,â€ said Laura, firmly. Ted opened his mouth and closed it again. Maybe she had a good reason. 
 	â€œWe must tel Fence of this, when al is done,â€ said Randolph, â€œand he can tel thee, better than I, what these things purport.â€ He looked thoughtful y at Laura, who appeared ready to cry. â€œThou art safer having them than not,â€ he said, and pushed a loosening ribbon back up on one of her braids. Ted, who had heard Agatha scolding Laura for doing that very thing instead of retying the bow, grinned. 
 	A page came up cal ing Randolphâ€™s name, and he excused himself to them and went off. 
 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t youâ€”â€​egan Ted. 
 	â€œBecause we canâ€™t tel him we know youâ€™l be okay, and heâ€™d just worry, or not let you go back.â€​par 	â€œWhich might not be such a bad thing,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t you want to finish the story?â€​par 	â€œGood God!â€ said Ted. â€œDoesnâ€™t anybody but me take any of this seriously? Why should I want to get kil ed and go to the land of the dead?â€​par 	Laura looked at him soberly. Her braids, as wel as losing their ribbons, were coming undone, and her face was dirty. 
 	â€œIs it real y awful?â€​he asked him. 
 	â€œHow should I know. Iâ€™ve never been there.â€​par 	â€œNo, I mean the battle.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted, slowly, â€œthere isnâ€™t time to think about whether itâ€™s awful.â€​par 	â€œBecause the people weâ€™re taking care of, some of them are hurt, and it is awful; but most of them act more like theyâ€™re crazy. They sound like we did in that grass, yel ing about things that arenâ€™t there.â€​par 	â€œI guess the mundane part is doing better than the arcane.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œThe unmagic part of our army is doing better than the magical part.â€​par 	â€œSo Fence wil have to fight the chal enge?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know.â€​par 	They sat in silence until Randolph came back with a message from the Dragon King. Ted could not read it, but it was clear from what Randolph said that the chal enge had been refused, and not politely. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, handing his cup to Laura and standing up, â€œI guess I should get back.â€ You sound like an office worker, he told himself. 
 	Randolph looked at him thoughtful y and came with him without a word. From a distance, the battle looked different. 
 	The army of the Secret Country appeared to have driven the Dragon Kingâ€™s some way back into the desert and seemed to be herding the Dragon Kingâ€™s soldiers in the direction of a great outcropping of rock that stood up above the sand like a spoon in a bowl of cornmeal mush. For somebody who had been able to choose his ground, the Dragon King was not doing very wel . But no; he had not been able to choose his ground, because Fence had gotten here first. 
 	Close up things were the same as ever, except that it was hotter now and everything seemed to move much more slowly. 
 	
 	Ted had been dimly aware, in the morning, that Matthew was saving him from any number of unpleasant fates. But now he could examine every stroke. Randolph was much faster than either he or Matthew was, and, obviously, much faster than most of the enemy, too. Ted felt a sudden acute fear for Patrick, with no one to protect him and less reason to fight wel . But someone came at him, and there was no more time for thought. 
 	The monsters had dwindled. It was mostly men now. The sword was more use against them, and Edwardâ€™s knowledge in the back of Tedâ€™s mind grew stronger. 
 	Ted put the sword through the face of the third person who attacked him, and stared horror-struck at the result. 
 	â€œYoung fool!â€ said Randolph, pul ing him behind a rock. â€œAn he were but a little quicker, such a stroke had left thee open to be gutted.â€​par 	Ted, the image of the man he had kil ed stil before his eyes, looked away from Randolphâ€™s wrathful, dusty face to what he had thought another rock, saw that it was someone who had in fact been gutted, and threw up. 
 	â€œI know,â€ said Randolph, offering him a filthy rag with which to wipe his mouth, â€œbut â€™twil do thee no good neither to make thyself weak and dizzy.â€ He hauled Ted to his feet. â€œThis is no time to stand chattering. Guard thyself better in future.â€​par 	They came out from behind the rock again and found themselves in the midst of a mixed group of Mal ows and Peonies. The men themselves were filthy, their helmets scratched and dented and covered with sand, their sashes slashed and thick with a mud composed of dust and blood rather than water. But on each helmet and each sash the little embroidered flower shone clear and clean. The badges must be magical. Ted thought of al those women, warriors and counselors in their own right, and probably sorcerers too, sitting in High Castle sewing because the ruler was a man. It seemed a very odd way to run a country. 
 	He shook his head sharply and tried to attend to what was going on. They were in a little pocket of quiet, but the sound of the battle was stil immense. One of the Peonies wore a yel ow feather and was talking so fast to Randolph that Ted could not understand him. He plucked the nearest Mal ow by the sash. 
 	â€œPlease, what is it?â€​par 	â€œConrad,â€ said the young man. His look at Ted was compounded of curiosity, reluctance, sympathy, and speculation. â€œHeâ€™s sore hurt.â€​par 	â€œOh, God,â€ said Ted. He stood very stil and did not try to remember whom the game had kil ed. Then he took three steps and stood as close to Randolph as he could get. 
 	â€œI wil serve better where I am,â€ said Randolph to the messenger. â€œDo you find Jeromeâ€”and you, Stephen, go as quickly as you may to the camp and bring Agatha. I weary of this waste.â€​par 	â€œAye, my lord,â€ said the messenger, a little dubiously, and made off into the desert. 
 	Stephen, the young man whom Ted had asked what was going on, frowned, looked at Ted, looked back at Randolph, and fol owed the messenger. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Ted, in a tone of voice he had not known he possessed. â€œGo where youâ€™re needed.â€​par 	The hovering Mal ows and Peonies melted away from around them as cats leave the room when people began to quarrel. Randolphâ€™s green eyes regarded Ted calmly from out of his sweat- and dust-striped face. 
 	â€œI am there now,â€ said Randolph. â€œUse me while yet you may.â€ And he caught Ted by the wrist and pul ed him toward the retreating Peonies. A yel ing crowd of little pale men in red rose up suddenly out of the rocks, and it was not possible to argue. Ted gave his mind back to Edwardâ€™s impulses and let the sword do what it would. 
 	Â 
 	Laura watched Ted and Randolph walk away, and put the cup down on the ground. She thought of the coronation, of Claudia and the cel ar, of Ted in the land of the dead, where he did not want to go after al , and of El en grumbling and fingering her sword-belt as she washed the bloody bandages. She drew the stolen sword from its scabbard. It blazed like a lightning bolt even in the bright air before the desert. The prickling previously absent shot up her arm and shoulder, and suddenly she felt that she knew al about fighting. 
 	â€œIâ€™l show you,â€ she said to al of them, and went after Ted and Randolph. 
 	The shrieking cacophony of the battle would have frightened her into going back, had it not seemed to have an almost magnetic effect on the sword. Laura had to run to keep it from pul ing her arm out of joint; it was like being run away with by a very large, energetic, and invisible dog whose leash you held. The sword did not seem to care whether there was a path for Laura, as long as the space it had to go through was clear; but she managed to keep her feet until it zipped over a rock almost as tal as she was, which caught her painful y in the chest and left her breathless. 
 	â€œWait!â€ croaked Laura. The sword, more obedient than such a dog, promptly stopped pul ing, although it quivered in her hand. 
 	â€œWhat are you after? â€ said Laura; she could hardly hear herself in the din, nor see more than a few yards for the dust. 
 	But in those few yards she saw more than enough. Ted and Randolph were battling five or six very tal men with braided yel ow hair, and bare chests, leather trousers, and high boots. For a moment Laura thought everything would be al right, seeing Randolph deal three of them wounds that certainly looked as if they ought to be mortal. 
 	But as each man went down he blurred and wavered and became a smal dark woman in leather armor; and as those were injured they turned into large fox-like creatures; and when they crumpled up bloodily they became inky shadows with red eyes, hugging the ground. Tedâ€™s and Randolphâ€™s swords went into them and came out smoking, but the shadows seemed none the worse for that. 
 	The sword tugged at Laura. â€œAl right,â€ she said to it, â€œand weâ€™l show those visions, too.â€​par 	She came out from behind the rock, and thrust the sword at the nearest red eye. The creature made a bubbling noise horribly like one of the purple beastsâ€™, shriveled up, and sank slowly into the ground, like spil ed motor oil. Laura slashed at one that was pul ing itself up Randolphâ€™s leg, and it fol owed the first. The sword wrenched her around and did in two more. Randolph shouted behind her, and she spun and dispatched the last one. It did not seem to matter in the least where the sword touched them. 
 	â€œLaura Kimberly Carrol !â€ said Ted. â€œWhat the hel are you doing here?â€​par 	â€œ I didnâ€™t swear you an oath,â€ said Laura, and was satisfied. 
 	â€œEdward!â€ said Randolph behind her, and thrust her against the rock. She heard more than felt the crack of her head against it, and doubled over, clutching her head in her arms. It took some time for the pain to wear off. When she looked up again, Randolph was fighting a tal man in green, and Ted lay sprawled in the sand with blood al over his front. 
 	Laura screamed, surprising herself. 
 	Randolph finished his opponent off somehow; Laura did not care to look at them. He crouched down over Ted, put a hand to Tedâ€™s throat, and shook his head. He shook it several times, as if he were warning Ted from a distance not to talk with his mouth ful . Then his look slid into something worse than unhappiness but different from anger. They seemed frozen before her eyes, exactly as she had seen them in the vision. 
 	
 CHAPTER 14

 	TED opened his eyes, or thought he did. He could not see anything with them, not blackness, not anything. He did not seem to have eyes, or anything else. Randolph, he tried to say, but he had nothing to say it with. It was like dreaming, and knowing you were dreaming, and trying to wake up by remembering the bed, and the pil ow, and the color of your pajama sleeve: it was like the time just before the trick worked and you woke up. 
 	â€œRandolph!â€ said Ted, and jumped. He had a voice, and ears to hear it, and a nervous system to make him jump when he was startled. 
 	He stared into grayness, and blackness, and mist, and a hundred shadows suggestive of nothing familiar. He looked down at himself. The sourceless light was not strong enough to show colors, but he knew wel enough what the blackness caked over the whole front of him was. He decided not to look more closely. He held out a hand and looked at it instead. His fingernails were black. He was as grimy as he had been in the battle. He stared around him again, and a few yards ahead of him the shadows took on shapes that might have been the foam and waves of a swift river. Ted stood up. Everything worked and nothing hurt, but there was a curious emptiness in the region of his chest. He took a step toward the river. 
 	A voice spoke out of nowhere. It had a clear and piercing sound, like a flute heard from a distance. Its tone was neutral. 
 	â€œSuch water is not for you.â€​par 	
 	This did not sound promising. Ted decided to find out the worst. â€œIs this Hel ?â€​par 	â€œThis is not.â€​par 	Not Hel , or not anything? thought Ted, and realization smote him. He had given the Secret Country neither Heaven nor Hel , only a shadowy, dim, pathetic sort of place, like Hades in the Odyssey. What had anyone else done? 
 	Patrick didnâ€™t believe in an afterlife; he wouldnâ€™t have bothered making up what type the Secret Country had. 
 	But people in the Secret Country said, â€œDear heaven,â€
 	or â€œFor the love of heaven.â€​par 	Ted looked around again and thought that it was clear that nobody besides himself had so much as considered the matter. Nobody in the game or out of it, he thought grimly. 
 	This looked to be the one place where there were no unexpected changes. Then he wondered whom he was talking to. In the game Patrick had done wel at being a bent and twisted figure in black robes; but here there was nobody to be seen. 
 	â€œWhy is the water not for me?â€​e asked. 
 	â€œThe living cross it to become the dead. You are neither. There is a bargaining for you.â€​par 	Wel , Ruth had managed to get their attention, at least. 
 	â€œI hope they remember their lines,â€​aid Ted. 
 	The voice did not answer that. 
 	â€œWho is bargaining?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œRuth of the Green Caves, Fence of no land, and Lord Randolph, Kingâ€™s Counselor of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	â€œWhat is the bargain?â€​is lines came easily to him. 
 	
 	â€œWhat must it be? Life for life.â€​par 	That was wrong. Ted, Ruth, Fence, and Randolph were al supposed to promise to do certain labors for the Lord of the Dead. Once or twice Tedâ€™s family had spent Christmas at the farm, and those labors had come in handy then. 
 	â€œWhose life?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThat concerns you not. Only the outcome concerns you.â€​par 	â€œIs the one whose life is to be exchanged engaged in the bargaining?â€​par 	â€œTricks wil not avail you,â€ said the voice, but its neutrality had given way to amusement. Ted found a sense of humor to be a disconcerting quality in the Lord of the Dead. If this was the Lord of the Dead. 
 	â€œWho are you?â€​par 	â€œI am the Guardian of the River.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s the river?â€​par 	â€œIf the bargaining is not concluded, you wil know. If it is, you wil not need to know.â€​par 	â€œIsnâ€™t it my right to know the terms of the bargain?â€​par 	â€œWho art thou, then?â€​par 	â€œEdward,â€ said Ted, â€œKing of the Seâ€”the Hidden Land.â€ After al , he had been crowned. It would be a lie to say, â€œrightful King,â€ but what he had said was probably al right. 
 	â€œWhat power hath the Hidden Land over the Lords of Death?â€​par 	
 	The question had a quality of rote about it; the voice clearly expected that Ted would know the answer. As a matter of fact, he did not. He stared into the mist until his eyes ached, but neither memory nor logic gave him an answer. Then he was distracted. Like an aerial photograph of familiar country, the mist came into focus and he knew what he saw. 
 	It was ghosts, hundreds of them, crowding down to the opposite bank of the river and staring at him across it. Their voices came across gradual y louder, like the television warming up. 
 	â€œLiving man, hast thou brought blood?â€​par 	â€œHe is not living man, he hath had his deathâ€™s wound.â€​par 	â€œHe is not dead man, for his substance is solid.â€​par 	â€œHast thou brought us blood?â€​par 	â€œOnly mine,â€​aid Ted, wryly. 
 	â€œCome across, that we may drink of thee and be for but a brief while what we were. Let us remember.â€​par 	Too bad I donâ€™t have a sheep handy, thought Ted crazily. Not that Iâ€™d want to cut its throat anyway. He put a hand to his chest. It came away sticky. Maybe that blood would do; it seemed a pity to waste it. He stood up. 
 	â€œIâ€™l give you what blood I can,â€ he said, â€œif youâ€™l tel me, what power hath the Hidden Land over the Lords of Death?â€​par 	The voice said, again with a faint note of amusement, â€œYou cannot cross with the blood of life yet in you.â€​par 	â€œWel , they donâ€™t want me without it!â€​par 	
 	â€œThis is the doom of men,â€ said the voice, not sepulchral y, but with the glee of someone making a particularly complicated pun. 
 	Ted took a step toward the river, and another. The river and the ghosts stayed the same distance from him. 
 	â€œYou cannot cross,â€​aid the voice. 
 	Ted had been staring steadily at the ghosts, and their outlines had become clearer. He saw creatures like the ones he had kil ed in the battle. He hoped only the newly dead were here. He did not want to see the King. Then he froze, and the breath went out of him as if someone had hit him. Down at the very edge of the river was a group of children. Ruth, El en, Patrick, and Laura. Oh, God, thought Ted, were we al kil ed, did we lose the battle? And then, are they al dead but me? 
 	Then he saw himself. He was tal er than Ruth; but it was he. Ted felt the hair prickling on the back of his neck. He had always thought it would be terrible to meet oneâ€™s own image walking in the garden; but that would have been a charming surprise compared to meeting it in Hel . 
 	â€œHey,â€ he tried to cal , but his throat was dry. He swal owed, and tried something more dignified. 
 	â€œHark!â€ he shouted. â€œYou five children! Who are you?â€​par 	â€œWe know not,â€ said the figure of Ruth. Her voice was perfectly identical to his cousinâ€™s, although she had a trace of accent. 
 	â€œWel , I bet I do. Are you Lady Ruth of the Green Caves, and Princesses El en and Laura and Prince Patrick of the Secret Countryâ€”of the Hidden Land?â€​par 	
 	Four of the ghosts stirred and leaned together, whispering; except Edward, who came a step forward, his head tilted. â€œI have seen thee before.â€​par 	â€œIn the mirror,â€ said Ted. Edwardâ€™s voice was not familiar to him, but they did say that nobody real y knew what his own voice sounded like. It was stil a boyâ€™s voice, not a manâ€™s, despite Edwardâ€™s height. The strange voice made things easier. 
 	â€œTruly?â€​aid Edward. 
 	â€œThink about the mirror,â€ said Ted, with no very clear idea of what he was doing, but possessed of a burning desire to make Edward remember who he was. â€œWhat can you see in it, behind you?â€ He felt he sounded like either a psychiatrist or a dishonest hypnotist, but it was the only thing he could think of. 
 	Edward looked at Prince Patrick, and laughed. A wavering like that of water into which a stone has dropped went through the other ghosts, and most of them backed away from the five children. 
 	â€œMy brother Patrick,â€ said Edward, â€œcoming privily with a wet towel to make me late for supper.â€​par 	â€œEdward!â€​aid Prince Patrick, exactly like someone in a bad romance; and he and Edward hugged each other. 
 	â€œLaura!â€ cried the ghost of his sister, gleeful y; â€œEl en!â€ yel ed the other smal girl, and then they hugged each other and shouted, â€œRuth! Ruth!â€
 	whereupon Ruth hugged them, and Edward, and Patrick. 
 	Ted, who had never considered hugging Laura, let alone Patrick, was nonplussed. 
 	â€œWe thank thee,â€ said Edward to Ted, formal y, â€œfor giving us back ourselves. What power is in thee to do this thing?â€​par 	â€œWho are you, then?â€​par 	â€œEdward Fairchild, Prince of the Hidden Land. And thou?â€​par 	â€œMy nameâ€™s Edward, too, Edward Carrol . But they al think Iâ€™m you. What happened to you?â€​par 	â€œTreachery,â€​aid Edward, grimly. 
 	â€œWas it Claudia? Andrewâ€™s sister?â€​par 	â€œVerily, by that guise were we slain.â€​par 	â€œHowâ€™d she do it?â€​par 	â€œA stratagem and a potion,â€ said Edward. 
 	â€œWhat art thou?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted, â€œbut lookâ€”they think theyâ€™re bargaining for your lifeâ€”â€​par 	â€œThey haggle for a pig with no poke,â€ said Edward; â€œthere is no life in me now.â€​par 	â€œBut Iâ€™m talking to you!â€​par 	â€œThat is not life, but spirit. Besides,â€ said Edward, â€œMelanie waits at the gates of death and of a certainty I could not pass her. Nor,â€ he added, â€œmight I leave my brother and my cousins in this place.â€​par 	â€œKing Edward!â€​aid the voice. 
 	â€œKing!â€​aid Edward. â€œWhat of my father?â€​par 	â€œKing Edward!â€​aid the voice, imperatively. 
 	â€œThat is no name of mine,â€ said Edward, in a way that made Ted wish it was none of his, either. 
 	
 	â€œAnswer or forfeit,â€​aid the voice, delightedly. 
 	â€œWel ?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œYou may go back to life if you wil kil Lord Randolph.â€​par 	â€œWhat infamy is this?â€​emanded Edward. 
 	Ted, who ful y intended to say No, opened his mouth and was shaken with sudden fear. What would happen if he didnâ€™t agree? Did the negotiators get more than one chance? The voice had sounded hideously pleased with itself. But if he said he would kil Randolph, he would have to do it; and it seemed to him at that moment as if he had spent al his time in the Secret Country plotting to avoid that very action. He would just have to hope that Ruth would not abandon him. 
 	â€œNo,â€​e said. 
 	The ghosts were silent. Ted put a hand to his chest and it came away wet. He pinched at his ankle, and the flesh was there. His substance was stil solid. 
 	The voice spoke again; it held a clean and vigorous glee. 
 	â€œYou may go back to life,â€​t said. 
 	â€œI wonâ€™t kil Lord Randolph.â€​par 	â€œWe are assured that he wil die; how is the business of those who covenanted for you. You may go back.â€​par 	â€œI wonâ€™t!â€​aid Ted, seized with perversity. 
 	â€œThis is not your place.â€​par 	â€œEdward!â€ said Edward. â€œGo. Avenge our foul and most unnatural murder.â€​par 	The place wavered and went out, and bright light hurt his shut eyes. He blinked them open. He was lying in the sand, in the sunshine, under blue sky. Randolph was hunched down beside his shoulder, bloody and dirty and bespattered, but very pale underneath it al . Laura was standing beside Randolph, with enormous eyes, and she looked one degree worse than he did: she had as much dirt and blood and grime on her face as he, and tear streaks on top of that. 
 	Ted put up a shaking hand and pul ed at the remnants of one braid. Laura smiled at him. He looked back at Randolph, who was also smiling. 
 	â€œHow could you?â€​aid Ted. â€œHow dare you?â€​par 	â€œNecessity dares al things,â€ said Randolph, lightly, but he gave Ted a look which meant that Ted had better be quiet. Ted looked at his sister and decided to shut up for the moment. 
 	He sat up and wiped his sweaty hair out of his eyes, looking over Randolphâ€™s shoulder. â€œWhereâ€™s the battle now?â€​e asked, and stopped. 
 	The sand was red, and there was a great deal more red that was not sand: mounds and huddles of things he did not want to look at. Just beyond Randolph were a hand and outstretched arm clothed in green. Ted looked quickly back at Randolphâ€™s face. 
 	â€œThe end passed while you were yonder,â€ said Randolph. â€œWe have the victory.â€​par 	â€œAnd,â€ said Ted, reluctantly fal ing back on his lines, â€œat what price?â€​par 	â€œA very high one,â€ said Randolph. He had stopped smiling. â€œMany of the best are gone.â€​par 	
 	Ted could not remember whom of their characters he and the others had so blithely kil ed. Now was not, in any case, the time to find out whether the reality had fol owed the game. He remembered that Conrad had been hurt, and did not ask about him. â€œIs any of the enemy left to treat with?â€​par 	â€œWe do not treat,â€ said Randolph, â€œwith the likes of those that are left. If their master wisheth terms, no doubt he wil so inform us. His immediate army is destroyed, and Fence saith that his sorcery is vanished from the desert.â€​par 	â€œI hope there arenâ€™t any prisoners?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph. â€œMy lord, none of those we fought were men.â€​par 	â€œYou mean there wasnâ€™t any mundane army on the Dragon Kingâ€™s side?â€​par 	â€œIf you mean by that, was there then no need for our own, there was great need. The greater part of those creatures had only to set foot over the border to leave us without a home to go back to.â€​par 	â€œWhat was it that got me?â€ said Ted, wiping his face again. 
 	â€œI have never seen its like,â€ said Randolph. â€œ
 	â€™Twas a shape-changer, yet it seemed held to but several shapes.â€​par 	â€œWhat happened to it?â€​par 	â€œI got it with this sword,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWho told you you could fight?â€​par 	â€œWho told me I couldnâ€™t?â€​par 	â€œYou little brat,â€ said Ted, heatedly, and stopped. A number of things he had been almost too busy to notice, let alone think about, fel together in his mind. â€œOh, wel ,â€
 	he said. â€œA lot of good most of my liege men did me when I needed them. Do you think youâ€™d like to be one, too? Maybe you could show them something.â€​par 	Laura looked as if she thought he was making fun of her; then she shrugged suddenly and grinned at him. 
 	â€œSure,â€​he said. 
 	â€œDo you know the words?â€​par 	â€œCertainly.â€​par 	â€œWel , kneel, then.â€ Laura obeyed him, and Randolph sat where he was; he looked bemused. Ted took his sister by the hands. â€œPut your title in,â€ he whispered. 
 	â€œI, Laura, Princess of the Secret Country, do become your liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship, and faith and truth wil I bear unto you, to live and die, against al manner of folk. So help me God,â€ added Laura, startling both Ted and Randolph. 
 	â€œI, Edward, King of the Secret Country, do become your liege lord of life and limb, and of earthly worship, and that faith and truth I receive of you, that I wil requite. Rise, Sir Laura,â€ said Ted, in his best Prince-Edward tones, â€œKnight of the Secret Country.â€​par 	Laura seemed as delighted as he had ever seen her, but al she said was, â€œDoes this mean I have to ride a horse?â€ Then she looked in alarm at Randolph, but he had stood up and was staring out over the battlefield; you could probably have burst a paper bag under his nose without making him jump. 
 	
 	â€œNow what about this sword?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt wanted to come here,â€ said Laura, â€œand when you stick it into one of those black things with the red eyes, they shrivel up.â€ She held it out to him. â€œHey!â€ she said. â€œWhat happened to the stones?â€​par 	â€œWhat stones?â€​par 	â€œIt had those blue stones in the handleâ€”in the hilt, but now itâ€™s al smooth.â€ She tilted it to catch the sunlight. 
 	â€œAnd the blade used to be blue and shiny, and now itâ€™s just ordinary.â€​par 	â€œWel , maybe you used up its magic.â€​par 	â€œWhence came that?â€ demanded Randolph, returning from his abstraction. 
 	â€œFenceâ€™s armory,â€​aid Laura boldly. 
 	â€œAs wel for us that it did,â€ said Randolph. â€œWhat brought him to give it thee?â€​par 	â€œWel . . .â€​par 	â€œShouldnâ€™t we be getting back?â€​aid Ted. â€œI want to thank Ruth and Fence. And do they even know it worked?â€​par 	Randolph smiled. â€œThey have the word of the Judge of the Dead. But that is always a slippery thing. Come, then.â€​par 	Randolph led them through the remnants of the battle in a random zigzag; probably, thought Ted, guiding them away from the worst sights. The ones they passed close by were bad enough. Ted looked aside at Laura, struggling along with the heavy sword, and was visited by an unexpected emotion. 
 	â€œWould you mind holding my hand?â€​e asked her. 
 	
 	Laura gave him an astonished look and did as he asked. 
 	When they were out of the area that had been fought over, Randolph asked Laura, with a grave politeness, to do him the favor of running ahead and bespeaking some stew for al three of them, â€œfor, although thou hast fought most bravely this day, yet we two have fought longer.â€​par 	Laura bowed to him and went on ahead. 
 	â€œMy lord,â€ said Randolph, stopping Ted with a hand on his shoulder, â€œfor al that she did bravely, and for al that her sword seemed made to deal with such shapechangers, I know the sorcery to deal with them; and had she not turned both our sights away from the battle, thou hadst not been kil ed and this dilemma would not now be upon us.â€​par 	Ted laughed, before he knew he was going to. â€œThat would happen,â€ he said. He heard himself giggle, and stopped quickly. â€œI think itâ€™s my fault,â€ he said, â€œbecause she didnâ€™t swear fealty to me, you see, and I didnâ€™t notice. And then I told Elâ€”the Lady El en that she couldnâ€™t fight and bound her not to by her oath of fealty, you see, and so the Lady Laura got mad.â€ He snickered again. 
 	Randolphâ€™s mouth had fal en open somewhere in the middle of this speech; when Ted had finished, he blinked and closed it. 
 	â€œSo how can I scold her?â€ said Ted, laughter giving way to helplessness. It was one thing to have the story go differently than you expected. It was one thing, when you tried to make it go differently, to have that very attempt make it go as you had expected but hoped it wouldnâ€™t. But this business of having something that never did happen in the original story, and that had not been done to stop something in the original story, be responsible for the occurrence of something that did happen in the original story, was another thing, and one thing too many. 
 	â€œMy lord, in some wise the fault is mine,â€ said Randolph. â€œI charged myself to see that al of useful age did swear to thee, and methinks I was mistaken in useful age.â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t think of it either,â€ said Ted. â€œBut lookâ€”however it happened, how could you let them take you instead?â€​par 	â€œBecause it is in the nature of things that they wil take me very soon,â€ said Randolph, looking him straight in the eye. â€œThy use for me is drawing to its conclusion; and Fence, though he knoweth not what he knoweth, doth draw near to his conclusions touching the Kingâ€™s death.â€​par 	â€œWhyâ€™d you try to get me to agree to kil you, then?â€​par 	â€œI did not,â€ said Randolph; â€œthat was a condition made by the Judge of the Dead. It is also,â€ he said, dropping his hand from Tedâ€™s shoulder, â€œa condition made by the laws of the Hidden Land, whereof thou art King. 
 	Think on it.â€​nd he went on ahead of Ted into the camp. 
 	
 CHAPTER 15

 	THERE was a great deal of cheerful confusion in the camp. 
 	Ted was swept into his share of it by Ruth, El en, and Patrick, who did not actual y run and hug him, but did surround him, talk at him, and show a disposition to tug at his sleeves and help him take off his corselet. He wondered briefly why this garment had not turned the sword-thrust that had kil ed him. Probably the sword had been magic; certainly its wielder had. 
 	Out of the usual tumble of their conversation he managed to discover that Patrick had a slash on his leg from some horned creature, and a bruise on his side from he was not sure what. He seemed both exultant and subdued; at least, thought Ted, many of his most Patrick-like qualities were subdued. He had gotten through the battle so wel largely because El en, at the last minute, had insisted on his having her magic sword. 
 	â€œBut you werenâ€™t used to it!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œI took it and the ordinary sword,â€ said Patrick, â€œand lost the ordinary one in the first five minutes. But the magic one seemed to know how to fight al the strange creatures by itself. And Benjamin,â€ he said, grimacing, â€œstuck to me like a piece of gum and took care of al the normal soldiers.â€ On his dusty face was an expression compounded of glee and puzzlement. Ted wondered if he could possibly have enjoyed the battle. Now was not the time to ask; it would only remind El en that she had been prevented from fighting. 
 	â€œMatthew and Randolph did the same to me,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œDid the stones come out of your hilt, too?â€ Laura asked Patrick. 
 	Patrick showed her that they had not; El en demanded to know what Laura had meant by â€œtooâ€; and Ted was just as pleased to be dragged by Randolph away from the rising tide of El enâ€™s indignation and into a brief Council about what councils should be held. 
 	He was not glad for long. He wanted most desperately to col ect his fel ow-imposters and discuss with them what Randolph had done about the bargaining, what Claudia appeared to have done to their other selves, and what they proposed to do about it al . It was gal ing to him to be saddled, on top of these burning responsibilities, with innumerable kingly duties that could far better be performed by others. 
 	Fence and Randolph wanted to leave half the army behind to deal with any strays from the Dragon Kingâ€™s; they wanted it decided whether to bury the dead where they were, or take them back, or bury some and take some back; they wanted to settle whether an envoy should be sent to the Dragon Kingâ€™s court, and if so, who it should be and what he should say. 
 	Ted could not find fault with these wants, but he wished they would leave him out of it. Just when he could have done with being ignored, they had to bring him in on everything. 
 	He knew nothing about the army, but he had to sit for hours listening to Fence and Randolph and the pitiful remnants of his own Kingâ€™s Council wrangling over which pieces of it should be left behind and with what precise instructions. 
 	No doubt it would be good for a new King. But Ted had no patience with it when he had not decided to be King. It now seemed impossible to him that, knowing where Edward was and being able to talk to him, they should be unable to get him back where he belonged. 
 	Besides, it was almost unbearable to sit and look at al the empty seats. Of the counselors he had lost, he remembered only Conrad wel ; he had not lost any of the gameâ€™s favorites. Nor, perhaps unfortunately, had he lost Andrew, who had not so much as a scratch. But along with him, he had only Randolph (with his arm in a sling); Julian (who limped); Jerome, Matthew, Benjamin (al of whom had their heads bandaged); and Fence (who seemed very gloomy and was not a proper counselor anyway). He missed the cheerful temper and practical mind of Conrad. 
 	So, he found, did everybody else. With the exception of Benjamin, of the erratic temper and anomalous position, Conrad had been the only counselor of very great age or experience; nobody else seemed to be over thirty. Ted no longer found the idea of appointing new and untraditional counselors quite so appealing. 
 	Except for Fence, Randolph, and Benjamin, who acted toward him precisely as they always had, the counselors did not seem to find Ted very appealing either. The answer to the puzzle of their constraint and odd glances was obvious once he thought of it; but it took him a day and a night and half another day to think of it. It was, of course, hard to act normal y around someone who had been brought back from the dead by sorcery. As far as he could tel , only his Council, his sister, and his cousins knew about that. 
 	Randolph 
 	told 
 	Ted 
 	that, 
 	with 
 	his 
 	gracious
 	permissionâ€”that part sounding like an order, not a requestâ€”they were to camp three days and four nights in the round val ey between the desert and the mountains. 
 	On the first day after the battle Ted found out who had been kil ed, and was taken by Randolph and Fence to visit those who appeared to wish they had been. The Secret Country seemed to have remarkable methods for curing bodily wounds, but the wounds inflicted by the Dragon Kingâ€™s minions must have been mostly mental. Those who had been hurt had dreams worse than any of Tedâ€™s. Fence, however, seemed more at home with these dreams, interpreting them handily and offering numerous methods, from potions to poetry, of preventing their return. 
 	Ted stayed close to Fence during this visit; at first, because he had been braced for horrors of one sort, and then because he began to be visited by those of another. He knew quite firmly, if vaguely, that hospitals had been terrible, verminous, filthy places before the advent of modern medicine. You could hardly expect modern medicine in the Secret Country; therefore he had been steeled for filth and vermin and the stench of gangrene. He found nothing of the sort. Agatha grumbled about the desert dust and sand that crept into everything, but al this did was give the hospital tents the air of a slightly neglected but very tidy attic. For the most part things were clean, airy, and decorous. 
 	But nobody was happy, or even restful. Fence, who had flung off his gloom like an old cloak when he ducked into the first tent, could make people smile, but the moment he moved on they stopped smiling. There was an atmosphere of dread such as Ted had never known and would not, perhaps, have recognized had it not been for that part of his mind which knew some of what Edward had known. That underlayer of his thoughts was not susceptible to search; he recognized the feeling of the hospital tents without for a moment knowing what he recognized, or what had happened to Edward to make this state known to him. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter? â€ he exploded at Fence, the moment they were outside again. 
 	â€œThey have bad dreams,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œYes, I know, but for heavenâ€™s sake!â€​par 	â€œThose are the war wounds of sorcerers,â€ said Fence. â€œBe glad thou hast chosen another way.â€​par 	Â 
 	The evening of that day and most of the next were taken up with the disposition of the army. Then everyone wrangled over what to do with the bodies of the dead. Ted, during a break for food, took Randolph aside and asked if they could not al be brought back, as he had been. Randolph asked him if he cared to choose who should die in their stead. Ted, his suspicions satisfied and his conscience hurting him, apologized. The Council final y decided to bury in the val ey those who had no families, and to take back with them those who did, so that the families could have the consolation of a funeral. Ted thought that if he were a family he would not find a funeral consoling. 
 	That evening they discussed whether they ought to send an envoy to the Dragon King. They held their councils in the pavilion that had been set up, before the battle, to keep the rain off the cook-fires. It stil smel ed of woodsmoke and a batch of burnt bread. They sat on folding stools of wood and canvas, the ingenuity of which had both delighted and enraged Patrick; and leaned their shabby elbows on a series of long, narrow tables that also folded, but were less ingenious. To them clearly from outside came the smel s of the stew the ousted cooks were making; a few tired voices and a few vigorous; and distantly the sound of a lute, two recorders, and an indeterminate number of voices singing mournful y a shapeless tune. 
 	 Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell And the profit and loss. 
 	Â 
 	â€œThe best you may hope for,â€ said Benjamin in his abrupt voice, â€œis to waste yon vil ainâ€™s time and patience as he hath wasted ours. Youâ€™l stir in him neither regret nor fear.â€​par 	Agathaâ€™s voice sang alone:
 	Â 
 	 A current under sea 
 	 Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell He passed the stages of his age and youth Entering the whirlpool. 
 	Â 
 	â€œBut leave him alone,â€ said Randolph, â€œand youâ€™l stir contempt.â€​par 	â€œWe have that already,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Al the voices rose:
 	Â 
 	 Red Mage or Blue 
 	 O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as 
 	
 	 you. 
 	Â 
 	Ted, not wishing to consider Phlebas, and made courageous by impatience, said, â€œIsnâ€™t it a little late to send him a protest? We should have done that when Fence came back and told us about al the signs of his spies in the South.â€​par 	â€œCertainly we should have,â€ said Randolph, â€œbut your father forbade it.â€ His face and his bandage were both dirty, and his eyes narrowed as if his head hurt him, but his voice was as usual. â€œBesides, we should send more than protest. We have won a great battle, my lord, and we should press upon the Dragon King terms such that we need not fight another.â€​par 	â€œHow can you make terms with somebody who has no honor?â€​aid Ted, bewildered. 
 	Fence looked up. 
 	â€œBy force, how else?â€ said Randolph. â€œIn this matter, force sorcerous.â€​par 	Ted saw Fence wince and look troubled. Randolph looked over at him, apparently expecting him to give details, as if this were a plan they had worked out between them. He caught the end of the wince, and his face set as if the headache had gotten worse. Fenceâ€™s eyes widened suddenly and he leaned forward. Randolphâ€™s gaze dropped before the wizardâ€™s: not quickly or sneakily, but with considerable deliberation. Fenceâ€™s face flushed, and he turned to Ted. 
 	â€œIf Belaparthalion and Chryse did but give him a moment of their thoughtâ€”â€​e said. 
 	
 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t they come to the coronation?â€ said Ted, thoughtlessly; but Fence did not seem to take the question amiss. 
 	â€œNo unicorn wil come under a roof,â€ he said, â€œand thou knowest wel that Belaparthalion fitteth not under any roof ever devised. We had not the time to travel to a place of their choosing. Fear not; thou hadst their blessing on thy accession.â€​par 	Ted was not sure he was comforted by this. 
 	â€œWhat have we to offer them?â€ said Randolph, and once more looked expectantly at Fence. 
 	Fence grinned. â€œI have certain weapons,â€ he said, â€œfor which those two indeed have no use, but whose presence in hands such as ours makes them to sleep most uneasily.â€​par 	Ted thought of the armory below Fenceâ€™s tower. 
 	Randolph frowned. â€œHave such hands as ours no use for them?â€​par 	Fence gave him a long, thoughtful look that to Ted seemed to say something like â€œI thought as much.â€
 	â€œLess use for them than for the good wil of Belaparthalion,â€​e said, a little reprovingly. 
 	â€œAnd Chryse?â€ said Matthew, without looking up from his writing. 
 	â€œThe good wil of such as she is more perilous than the malice of the Dragon King,â€ said Fence, â€œbut if history speaketh aright, she hath a fondness for Belaparthalion that we might turn to our own account.â€​par 	â€œWilt thou speak with them, then?â€​aid Julian. 
 	
 	â€œIf the Council and the King so desire.â€​par 	The Council murmured that it did so desire, and Ted nodded. 
 	â€œGranting that we have that to force him to our demands, then,â€ said Randolph, â€œwhom wil we send?â€​par 	â€œLord Andrew?â€ said Ted, actuated half by mischief and half by curiosity. 
 	â€œA most astute thought,â€ said Randolph, holding Tedâ€™s eyes in a manner half reassuring and half alarming. â€œA true test of your philosophy, my lord,â€ he added to Andrew. â€œWhom do you desire to accompany you?â€​par 	â€œJulian,â€ said Andrew. He was a little red, but seemed less discomposed than Ted had hoped. He had thought it a nice irony to send Andrew as an envoy to the master he had failed; apparently Randolph thought so as wel . Ted supposed he might have given to Andrew only an opportunity to make his excuses, whatever those might be. 
 	â€œMy lord?â€​aid Randolph to Julian. 
 	â€œGladly,â€ said Julian; but he looked as alarmed as Andrew should have. â€œMight you spare Lord Jerome as wel , your Majesty?â€​par 	Ted looked at Randolph, who gave him no sign. â€œI think so,â€ said Ted. Fence had said he must learn to speak for himself. What was gal ing was that he was speaking for Edward. 
 	â€œYou must choose you a party of soldiers also,â€ said Randolph, and wandered off into a maze of diplomatic complications that Ted did not bother to fol ow. 
 	
 	He busied himself instead with the exchange of looks between Fence and Randolph. At first he thought that Fence had not considered sorcerous force the way to keep the Dragon King honorable. But the rest of the discussion showed that he thought it a fine way. He must, then, have been disturbed by something in Randolphâ€™s attitude. 
 	Perhaps saying â€œHow else?â€ about sorcerous force was somehow wrong. 
 	Ted scowled, caught Matthewâ€™s amazed glance, and composed his face again. Fence had been unhappy with, but not surprised by, what Randolph had said. And Randolph had expected this reaction and had set himself to ignore it. Now that had surprised Fence; and from Fenceâ€™s surprise Randolph had looked away. 
 	Ted, in a burst of il umination, thought, why, Fence kept expecting Randolph toâ€”to deny, or apologize for, or at least be ashamed of, what he said and the way he looked; and Randolph kept not denying it, and Fence looked as if that made him remember something, or realize it. And when Randolph asked didnâ€™t we have a use for the weapons, then Fence thought that proved he was right. About what? 
 	He shook his head, wishing he knew what in Randolphâ€™s original statement had been so distasteful to Fence. 
 	He sat revolving the rest of the conversation in his mind, looking for a clue there, and when he remembered Fenceâ€™s saying, â€œI have certain weapons,â€ he knocked over his untouched wine-cup, and sat without apologizing while they sent for a page to clean it up. How could he have been so stupid? Those weapons had to be Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords. 
 	If Fence gave them to a dragon and a unicorn, that would be the end of that; or at least, Ted and his relatives could spend years questing around for them. The idea of such a quest flamed up briefly in his mind, and was pleasing to him; then it was drowned in a flood of fear, and he turned his attention back to the Council, trying to discover when Fence planned to give the swords to the creatures. 
 	He was a little comforted by a number of intimations that dragons always talked over everything for a long time and that unicorns would not do anything to please you unless you could convince them that it would hurt you more than you knew. He probably had some time to work in. But this was one more reason to talk to the others. 
 	On the third day the Council met again, but Randolph told Ted that he did not need to attend; he could read over Matthewâ€™s notes later. Randolph sounded a little strained as he said this; but Ted would have let the Council plot his own murder if it would have given him an hour with the others. He scrambled around the camp, dragging Patrick from watching a competition with throwing-knives, interrupting Ruth and Laura in a flute lesson, and summoning El en away from Benjamin, whom she was making late for the Council by demanding fighting lessons of him. 
 	â€œItâ€™s Randolph who gives fencing lessons,â€ Ted told her as they made for a little fir-wood on the mountain side of their val ey. 
 	â€œRandolph already said no,â€ said El en. She was the only one who seemed angry with Ted for the interruption; Patrick had said â€œAbout time,â€ and Ruth, â€œThank goodness.â€​aura, as usual, said nothing. 
 	Arriving at the edge of the fir-wood, they sat down in a drift of pine needles, leaned their backs against convenient trees, rooted a few cones and sticks out of the way, and looked expectantly at Ted. 
 	
 CHAPTER 16

 	â€œALL right,â€ said Ted, â€œfirst, Ruthie, thank you very much for getting me out. I didnâ€™t like it down there.â€​par 	â€œWhat was it like?â€ asked El en, but Ruth interrupted her. 
 	â€œI didnâ€™t,â€​he said. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t get you out.â€ Ruth began shredding a pine cone. â€œRandolph came and got Fence and me and took us back to where you were. You looked horrible. Ted, if Iâ€™d known it would be like that I donâ€™t think Iâ€™d have agreed that we should come to the battle. Did it hurt?â€​par 	â€œNever mind,â€ said Ted, putting a hand to the solid substance of his chest; something had lurched inside him. 
 	â€œI wouldnâ€™t have agreed either, believe me. Just what do you mean you didnâ€™t get me out?â€​par 	â€œI said the spel â€”thatâ€™s al you do, just say it. The trick is to know where to find the spel , and to know what to do once youâ€™ve said it. A voice answered, coming out of nowhere, and said we must choose a ground whereon we might have speech of one another. It told us to choose between the sea and the Wel of the White Witch. I figured we should stick to what we knew, so I said the Wel .â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted, â€œthe Wel doesnâ€™t seem to like you.â€​par 	â€œI said the Wel ,â€ repeated Ruth. â€œA wind came up and blew sand in our faces, and when it died down we were standing right where I was when El ie and I were using Shanâ€™s Ring to change the time, and I got into the place that looked wrong. Remember, I told you about it: with the army camped by the Wel , and the sky the wrong color and the air al shimmery?â€​par 	â€œGo on,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œAnd you were gone,â€ said Ruth. â€œIt was just Fence and Randolph and me. We went through the woods, and across the bridge, and up to the Wel . Randolph didnâ€™t like it at al , walking right up to an army like that, but Fence kept tel ing him it was al right. And a unicorn came out of the army and stood on the other side of the Wel .â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™d it look like?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œIt had gold eyes,â€ said Ruth, promptly, â€œbut otherwise it looked like the one we hunted.â€​par 	â€œThat was Chryse,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œChryseâ€™s the one you talked to?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIt told me that was its name.â€​par 	â€œIt didnâ€™t like me,â€ said Ruth. â€œOr maybe it thought I was funny. Theyâ€™re very strange creatures, those unicorns. I told it we wished to bargain for the life of Edward Fairchild, King of the Hidden Land. Thatâ€™s the last thing that went according to the game. It knew I had Shanâ€™s Ring, and it asked me if Iâ€™d give it up to have you back. I said I would, and it said that the wil ingness took away the value of the gift, and weâ€™d have to give something else. So Randolph offered his lifeâ€”and Ted, the unicorn said exactly the same thing, that the wil ingness took the value away.â€ She gave him a sharp and anxious look from the green eyes like Randolphâ€™s. 
 	â€œWel , what do you expect?â€ said Ted, a little irritated. â€œWe always said that Randolph wanted to die after he kil ed the King. He figured it was what he deserved, and worth it to save the Secret Country.â€ Ted paused, thinking. â€œHe was probably tickled to death at the chance.â€​par 	â€œTed!â€ said Laura. â€œHe was! After you got kil ed,â€ and she swal owed hard, â€œhe said, â€˜his is not so foul a chance as it appears, so take heartâ€™â€”to me, I mean, when I told him to get Ruth.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™d forgotten that about Randolph,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œWel , itâ€™s nice to be right occasional y, except we always seem to be right about the things weâ€™d rather be wrong about. Anyway. Randolph asked if you could take part in the bargaining. The unicorn said we couldnâ€™t talk to you, but it would apprise you of what was happening, and it tilted its head and pitched its voice a little oddly, and said, â€˜ing Edward! You may go back to life if you wil kil Lord Randolph!â€™
 	â€œWel , Fence and I both objected, and Randolph said to the unicorn, â€˜ere is thy unwil ingness,â€™ and the unicorn said, â€˜ have one wil serve me better,â€™ and told us that if we would return to the place whence we came, we would find you alive.â€​par 	Ted supplied them with his side of the conversation with the Guardian of the River; a little discussion of the quality of the Guardianâ€™s voice made them decide that it had been the unicornâ€™s. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™d it mean, it had one that would serve it better?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œProbably that my unwil ingness was more fun than Ruth and Fenceâ€™s, because it was my life Randolph was saving,â€​aid Ted, sourly. 
 	â€œTed, what are we going to do about that?â€ asked Ruth. 
 	â€œWel , I wonâ€™t kil him. I didnâ€™t ask him to die for me. He can damn wel do it himself. Do they have hemlock here?â€​par 	Ruth looked appal ed, and Ted, a little shocked himself, scowled at her. She did not seem impressed. â€œNo, al right,â€ said Ted, â€œof course I donâ€™t want him to kil himself. I need him if we canâ€™t get Edward back. If we do get Edward back, Edwardâ€™l need him. And anyway, he did save the Secret Country, so why should he suffer for it? I mean,â€ said Ted, overcome by a helpless feeling as he remembered the King, â€œeven if it was wrong, what else could he have done?â€​par 	â€œA tragedy,â€ said Patrick, in a most peculiar voice. 
 	He fixed his untender blue gaze on Ted, in the way he used to do when he was playing Fence. â€œThatâ€™s what you get for reading Shakespeare so young.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think Randolph can kil himself,â€ said Ruth, sparing Patrick not so much as a glance. â€œHe and Fence stood there in that peculiar air under that wrong sky, with the army writhing al over the plain, and argued about it. 
 	Fence was furious with him; I mean, quite apart from being his friend. He told him heâ€™d offered what was no longer his to give. It sounded as if magicians arenâ€™t al owed to kil themselves, and Randolph is Fenceâ€™s apprentice. 
 	Also, Fence convinced Randolph that he would have to be kil ed by someone unwil ing or the unicorn wouldnâ€™t accept the death and would take you back.â€​par 	â€œHel !â€ said Ted, without knowing he was going to. 
 	â€œI have to kil him or Iâ€™l die, is that it? My God, do you know whatâ€™s happening to us? If I hadnâ€™t tried to stop it the King wouldnâ€™t have died; if Laurie hadnâ€™t tried to stop it I wouldnâ€™t have died; and if you hadnâ€™t tried to bring me back I wouldnâ€™t be under an obligation to kil Randolph, which is real y the one thing Iâ€™ve been trying to avoid al along!â€​par 	â€œWhat, what?â€ said the rest of them, and Ted had to fil them in. Laura seemed to shrivel up. 
 	â€œItâ€™s not your fault, Laurie, Randolph said it was al his.â€ Laura looked unconvinced, but less unhappy. 
 	â€œFurthermore,â€ said Ted, â€œwhen I was down there in the land of the dead I met the real us. I met Prince Edward and Princess Laura and the rest of them.â€​par 	Patrick, who had been tapping a dead branch on the ground, sat very stil . Ruth stared, and so did Laura. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re dead? â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThey didnâ€™t remember who they were at first, but after they did remember, they said Claudia kil ed them.â€​par 	â€œOh!â€ said Laura, with such profound relief that Ted gaped at her. 
 	â€œIt was the other one she kil ed,â€ said Laura. She seemed to pause and hear what she had said. The relief drained out of her voice, and she hunched her shoulders. 
 	â€œClaudiaâ€™s awful.â€​par 	â€œLaura!â€ said Ted. â€œHave you told Fence about those visions?â€​par 	
 	â€œNo . . .â€​par 	Ted put his head in his hands, feeling that he knew why Hamlet had cal ed his head a distracted globe and had seemed to doubt how long memory could hold its seat therein. â€œNow look,â€ he said. â€œNo matter what happens or what we decide or what time it is, even if we have to burst in on the blasted Council, when weâ€™re done here we are going to tel Fence about those visions.â€​par 	â€œRandolph should have told him by now,â€ offered Laura. 
 	â€œShouldâ€™s,â€ said Ted, â€œshoe no horses. Al right. The real us told me that Claudia kil ed them and that it was treachery, and Edward said, â€˜venge our foul and most unnatural murder.â€™ â€​par 	â€œIsnâ€™t it nice how al these people keep quoting Shakespeare?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œHow do we avenge them, kil Claudia?â€ said El en. 
 	The idea seemed to please her. 
 	â€œFat chance of that,â€ said Ruth. â€œEven Fence canâ€™t seem to do anything with her. But wouldnâ€™t it be a fine revenge to get them al back? Then they could testify against her.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s what I was thinking,â€ said Ted, â€œbut now I donâ€™t know. Can you think of five things youâ€™re unwil ing to give up? Also, Edward said Melanie wouldnâ€™t let them by the gates of life. I donâ€™t know what that means, but Iâ€™d hate to tangle with Melanie.â€​par 	â€œIsnâ€™t she dead?â€ said El en. â€œSeems to me the dragon kil ed her because Shan couldnâ€™t fulfil his word to the dragon without her, and she broke her word to Shan.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œaround here that wouldnâ€™t stop her from standing at the gates of life, I bet, not if she were on the side of death, keeping people there. Besides, from what the voice said to me and from some things Randolph said when I asked him about bringing the dead counselors back, I donâ€™t think theyâ€™l take anything but somebody elseâ€™s life.â€​par 	â€œChryse did ask about Shanâ€™s Ring,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s true. I wonder if Chryse would take that for the five of them. Or for the counselors?â€​par 	â€œThey wonâ€™t take anything you want to give them,â€ said Ruth. â€œOr at least, thatâ€™s what it sounded like.â€​par 	â€œDo you real y want to give them Shanâ€™s Ring?â€​par 	Ruth shrugged, and one of her braids fel down. 
 	â€œChryse thought I did. And I donâ€™t see what use it is to us. We used it to change the time, but it doesnâ€™t seem to do anything else. Except to combine with the sword to take me somewhere Iâ€™d just as soon never go anyway.â€​par 	â€œHow do you know you donâ€™t want to go there if you donâ€™t know where it is?â€​par 	Ruth sighed. â€œI guess youâ€™re right.â€​par 	Ted looked at her thoughtful y. â€œYou sound disil usioned.â€​par 	â€œWel . . . the Wel took my ring away, and I didnâ€™t bring you back from the dead, and the worst part of the story is al thatâ€™s left, andâ€”â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd we won a great battle but thereâ€™s something missing,â€ said Ted, identifying the source of his own unease with considerable astonishment. 
 	â€œWel , you were dead,â€ said El en, practical y, â€œyou didnâ€™t see the end.â€​par 	Ted looked at Patrick. â€œYou did, didnâ€™t you?â€​par 	â€œI know what you mean,â€ said Patrick, slowly. â€œIt wasnâ€™tâ€”it wasnâ€™t spectacular at al . We did what we were told, and Randolph and Fenceâ€™s plan worked, and Benjamin kept me from being kil ed, and Randolph almost kept you from it, and we won, thatâ€™s al . 
 	Wouldnâ€™t you think the Dragon King would have figured out King Johnâ€™s tactics in four hundred years? I expected this Belaparthalion they keep talking about to swoop down from the sky and save the day or something. 
 	But the day didnâ€™t need saving. Which ought to be fine, butâ€”â€​par 	Ted thought of five hundred and forty-three dead men and uncounted dead creatures, and Conrad, and the haunted faces of the people in the hospital tent. 
 	â€œFor pityâ€™s sake,â€ said Ruth to her brother, â€œwhatâ€™s the matter with you?â€​par 	â€œThe same thing thatâ€™s the matter with you!â€
 	said Patrick, very red in the face. â€œNow that you canâ€™t do anything you donâ€™t like it. Wel , Ted and I couldnâ€™t do anything about winning the battle; and we didnâ€™t even make up anything spectacular about winning the battle, so weâ€™re disappointed. And so are you.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t dislike it because I canâ€™t do anything!â€ flared Ruth. â€œI fear things are getting out of control, wherefore I am afraid.â€​par 	â€œThings have been out of control since we got here,â€
 	said Patrick. 
 	â€œNot like this.â€​par 	â€œYes they have. It just took a while for everything to come together. Weâ€™re just puppets of our damn plotâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhose damn plot?â€​par 	â€œWel , al right. Maybe itâ€™s Claudiaâ€™s damn plot.â€​par 	â€œStop it a minute,â€ said Ted. â€œBefore I forget what else I have to say. Do you know what Fence and Randolph are going to do with our swords?â€​par 	â€œHow could we?â€ said El en. â€œThis is no time for dramatics.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re going to give them to Chryse and Belaparthalion in exchange for their keeping the Dragon King in line.â€​par 	He wished he were in a better frame of mind to appreciate their reactions. Laura and El en looked blank, Ruth horror-struck, and Patrick desperately thoughtful. A cardinal whistled over them, and they al jerked their heads back and gaped at it. 
 	â€œAnd those stupid birds,â€ said Ted, remembering that it was one of them that had sent Laura blundering into the hedge in the first place. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re Green Caves servants,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re al right.â€​par 	â€œWel , but theyâ€™re red, and Benjamin said that was the color of the Outside Powers.â€​par 	â€œWel , that doesnâ€™t mean that everything red is from the Outside Powers, does it?â€​par 	The cardinal whipped away toward the mountains. 
 	â€œI feel spied on,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œWe stray from the point,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhich one?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œAl right. First, weâ€™ve got to get those swords back. And when we do, we had better go home.â€​par 	â€œLeaving everything al up in the air?â€​ried El en. 
 	â€œIf we stay Iâ€™l end up kil ing Randolph.â€​par 	â€œBut now that we know Claudia kil ed the real usâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhat are we supposed to do about it?â€ said Ted, wishing she would not so accurately reflect half his own mind on the matter. 
 	â€œBut I want to know why! â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œWhen did she do it?â€​atrick asked Ted. 
 	â€œThey didnâ€™t say. We didnâ€™t have very long.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Patrick, sitting forward, â€œremember the first day we were al here together, and Benjamin found us? He was mad because you and Ruth were together, and you were late to the Council. But we didnâ€™t seem to have been missing for very long. What if she did it then, because we were al here?â€​par 	â€œWhy should she want us here?â€​par 	â€œI think we should ask her.â€​par 	â€œIf we could find her,â€ said Ted. â€œI agree that we should give Claudia her just deserts. But what we try to do doesnâ€™t seem to have much connection with what happens; or else it has the wrong kind of connection.â€​par 	â€œWhat if we left a note for Fence?â€ said Ruth, abruptly. 
 	â€œ Thatâ€™s an idea!â€ said Ted. â€œI wouldnâ€™t feel so responsible then. And I wouldnâ€™t kil Randolph.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™d stil owe him your life,â€ said Patrick, â€œand leave him in a mess. Not to mentionâ€”â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think Iâ€™l mention it,â€ said Patrick, looking secretive. 
 	There was a pause, ful of the rustle of pine needles and the distant trickle of water. Ted considered the debt he owed Randolph, and remembered the land of the dead. A great burst of clarity overcame him. 
 	â€œWait!â€ he said. â€œRandolph didnâ€™t want me. 
 	He wanted Edward Fairchild. Wel , Edward Fairchildâ€™s stil dead; heâ€™s stil down there. Chryse didnâ€™t fulfil its bargain, so why should Randolph fulfil his?â€​par 	â€œYou think Chryseâ€™d let you get away with that?â€
 	said Ruth. 
 	â€œI bet itâ€™l have to. Magic and bargains with the devil and things like that are always veryâ€”whatâ€™s the wordâ€”â€​par 	â€œLiteral,â€​aid Ruth, brightening. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œLiteral,â€ said Ruth. â€œThatâ€™s when someone says to you, â€˜ake me a chocolate milkshake,â€™ and you turn him into one.â€​par 	El en gave a delighted chortle. 
 	â€œWe can point that out to Fence in the note,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œIf Randolph real y wants to die, heâ€™l find a way,â€
 	observed Patrick. 
 	â€œBut look,â€ said Ted. â€œThe whole point of what heâ€™s been doing has been to save the Secret Country. 
 	Wel , once weâ€™re gone and he knows whatâ€™s real y happened, saving the Secret Country wil mean getting Edward back. And maybe by the time heâ€™s done that heâ€™l feel better about having kil ed the King.â€​par 	As he spoke, Ted saw again the shadowy Council Room, the Kingâ€™s candlelit, agonized face, and the way Randolph looked as if he had been poisoned himself. Ted, who had tried to stop it, did not feel any better about the whole thing: how could he expect that Randolph, who had done it, ever would? 
 	This did not seem to occur to the others. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth slowly, â€œletâ€™s see. If we get the swords and go, and leave a note, weâ€™l have to put Fence and Randolph on Claudiaâ€™s trail and given them a chance to get the real us back, and weâ€™l have kept Ted from kil ing Randolph and perhaps given Randolph something to live for.â€​par 	Ted groaned. â€œAnd weâ€™l have taken away the bribe Fence was going to give to Chryse and Belaparthalion to keep the Dragon King in line.â€​par 	â€œIf the Dragon Kingâ€™s out of line, wonâ€™t Randolph have more to live for?â€​sked El en. 
 	
 	Ted could not help laughing. â€œMaybe,â€ he said, â€œbut it hardly seems fair.â€​par 	â€œIf you throw the sword back through the hedge,â€
 	said Patrick, in his most superior tone, â€œit should take itself back here. Then they could come get it, if we put that in the note, too. And the same with ours.â€​par 	There was a long silence. 
 	â€œThat would be it, then,â€ said El en. â€œWeâ€™d be stuck home for good.â€​par 	â€œWe can always stay here and kil Randolph,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œOh, al right. Butâ€”oh, wel ,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œYou could have cornflakes for breakfast,â€ Laura said to her, tentatively. 
 	El en shrugged. 
 	Ruth sighed heavily. 
 	Ted looked up through the wavering green and black of the trees to where another cardinal was beating lazily across the il imitable sky. There was one round cloud that looked as if it had been cut out of cardboard. A fierce possessiveness clamped down on him: he wanted to hold the entire Secret Country in his two hands, as if it were the Crystal of Earth. He felt that it was his, and not even its shadowy Hel nor the inhuman humor of the unicorns nor the ugliness shortly to erupt when Fence discovered the treachery of Randolph could make him want to give it up. 
 	â€œTed,â€ said El en, â€œnow can you tel us what the land of the dead was like?â€​par 	Ted sat up, staring. The Secret Country was not his. It was not even the Secret Country. It was the Hidden Land, and it was Edwardâ€™s. Every act he had performed as its King had been disastrous. Randolph could rule it; Edward could rule it. Ted would ruin it. 
 	He began to tel El en about the land of the dead, and the conversation drifted off into what the rest of them had been doing while Ted fretted in councils. Nothing extraordinary had happened, except to Ruth and Laura. 
 	â€œShe can play that flute,â€ said Ruth, â€œand I canâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWhat do you mean, you canâ€™t?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWel , you know what happens when you let an ignorant person play around with a flute. He can get a few squeaks and whistles out of it, but he probably wonâ€™t hit on the right fingering or the right way to blow into the mouthpiece. Thatâ€™s how it seems with that flute when I try to play it, even though I know what Iâ€™m doing. But Laurie, who doesnâ€™t know what sheâ€™s doing, and who had to give up piano lessons because she was so uncoordinatedâ€”â€​par 	â€œHey!â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ said Ruth, looking abashed. 
 	â€œBut itâ€™s a significant detail, even if it is rude to mention it. She can play al sorts of complicated things without even thinking. And itâ€™s not that the proper fingering for that flute is unusual, because I can tel by looking at her playing that it isnâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œHow does it work, Laurie?â€ asked Ted. Something in Ruthâ€™s description sounded familiar. 
 	Laura, red in the face, looked up from the tree-root she sat on. â€œI just know, somehow, underneath.â€​par 	â€œIn the back of your mind?â€​par 	â€œYes.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s how I knew how to fence,â€ said Ted to Patrick. 
 	â€œHuh,â€​aid Patrick, in his most noncommittal tones. 
 	â€œItâ€™s too bad I canâ€™t remember how to ride a horse that way,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œMaybe itâ€™s only the important things that stick,â€
 	said Ruth. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted, â€œbecause I remembered the names of the flowers we saw on the Unicorn Hunt the same way, and that wasnâ€™t important.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth, â€œit might have been important to Edward.â€​par 	â€œRuth Eleanora Carrol ,â€ said Patrick, in a scandalized tone that Ted recognized as an imitation of Patrickâ€™s motherâ€™s, â€œis that how you do your sorcery so wel ?â€​par 	â€œOnly some of it,â€ said Ruth, growing as red as Laura had been. â€œThatâ€™s how I could read the alphabet. But I had to work hard, too, Patrick!â€​par 	â€œI knew it!â€ chortled Patrick. â€œYou wanted us to think it was al your own cleverness, and al the timeâ€”â€​par 	â€œPatrick,â€ said El en, â€œhow did you get those keys out of Fenceâ€™s pocket?â€​par 	â€œPrince Patrick was a prestidigitator!â€​ried Ruth. 
 	Patrick was not at al embarrassed. â€œWhat a bunch of fakers,â€​aid he. 
 	â€œTedâ€™s not,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNeither are you,â€ said Ted, promptly. â€œMust run in the other side of the family.â€​par 	â€œ Iâ€™m not a faker,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œOnly because you didnâ€™t get the chance,â€ said her brother. 
 	El en threw a handful of pine needles at him, and Ruth began helpful y to stuff them down the back of his tunic. 
 	â€œWait!â€ said Ted. â€œWhat does it mean? What kind of connection is there between us and the real us, that we can remember things they knew how to do?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s nothing,â€ said Patrick. â€œIâ€™ve got a whole list of hard questions. Why didnâ€™t breaking the Crystal of Earth work? Why is Laura having visions and what do they mean? How did Randolph poison the Kingâ€™s wine after Ted spil ed the bottle? Whatâ€™s the story that theyâ€™ve put al over plates and doors and coffins? Why did Shanâ€™s Ring hold Claudia? Why did it stop holding Claudia? Whatâ€™s Claudia up to? Whyâ€”â€​par 	â€œStop!â€ begged El en. â€œYou know weâ€™re leaving and weâ€™l never know.â€​par 	â€œSpeaking of Lauraâ€™s visions,â€ said Ted, â€œletâ€™s go root Fence out of the Council and tel him about them.â€​par 	The bel rang for the noon meal, and they abandoned this pleasing plan, to plague Fenceâ€™s appetite instead. 
 	â€œTed,â€ said El en, as they walked back to the camp, â€œdid you see the King down there?â€​par 	
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted, looking sideways at her alert and inquisitive face. El en never failed to amaze him. She sounded as if meeting the King in Hel would have been a nice thing, somewhere on the level of strawberries for breakfast. 
 	â€œI wonder if heâ€™s met the real us yet,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThey wouldnâ€™t recognize each other,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œI wonder,â€​aid El en. 
 	
 CHAPTER 17

 	BEING hungry themselves, they did not real y try to drag Fence from his meal, but only asked to speak with him afterward. Laura could hardly eat. She felt as if she were about to take a test she had not studied for. 
 	They took Fence, who seemed mildly puzzled and considerably amused, to the place where they had spoken earlier. He sat down on a tree-root and looked expectantly from one to the other of them. Laura could not look at him and remain apprehensive. His round face, his big eyes, the disorder of his hair and robes after march and battle and three days of councils, even the four daysâ€™ growth of beard that could make her father look so formidable but lent Fence only an absent air: al these made him seem pleasant and harmless. 
 	â€œDid Randolph tel you about the Lady Lauraâ€™s visions?â€​ed asked. 
 	Fence sat up straighter and became intent. â€œHe did not. Do you tel me now.â€​par 	â€œLaura?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Laura knew that he would do the tel ing for her if she felt shy, but she decided to go through with it. Ted might tel too much. Once again she explained at what times she would see things, and what things she had seen. This time she did include her vision of Ted and Randolph on the battlefield, but left out the one of Claudia and Princess Laura in the cel ar, since she had already told Fence it was a dream. She did not, of course, mention her glimpse of Andrew in the North Tower, staring at the remnants of the Crystal of Earth. If Fence, by some miracle, did not know that Patrick had broken it, she was not going to tel him. She must remember to tel the others, or they would yel at her, however little it might matter now. 
 	Fence looked at her consideringly when she had done. 
 	â€œThis is a gift of thy motherâ€™s house,â€ he said, â€œthough she had it not and in her sister it turned to favor and to prettiness.â€​par 	Laura thought that that did not sound like a bad thing to happen, but Fence did not seem to approve of it. 
 	â€œHath any of these come to pass?â€ Fence asked her. 
 	â€œThe one with Ted al bloody and Randolph looking unhappy did,â€ said Laura. â€œI saw it myself, when Ted got kil ed in the battle. And the people and beasts al running around on the flat place, I think that was the battle, too.â€​par 	â€œWas it for that thou tookâ€™st the magic sword to battle?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel . . . partly.â€​par 	Fence was silent for a moment. â€œSo many visions of Claudia,â€ he said. â€œClaudiaâ€™s face in a sword, with magical swords and a unicorn. Claudia regarding a mirror which regardeth not back. Claudiaâ€™s face above misty shapes, as it were the sun.â€​par 	â€œAnd I think the house by the Wel that the dragon destroyed is Claudiaâ€™s house,â€ said Laura, suddenly enlightened. 
 	Fence looked at her as he had when she said that Andrew was a traitor. â€œWhy?â€​e said. 
 	
 	Laura gaped at him. Face and voice and vision had fal en together in her mind, and she knew that the woman with the broom in the Secret House was Claudia. But this, too, was not something she could tel Fence. She lied quickly. â€œI saw her in the house, when she was looking in the mirror,â€
 	she said. â€œSo I thought it was her house.â€​par 	â€œIt is not,â€ said Fence, â€œbut â€™tis of one kind with her other deeds that she should put it to her uses. 
 	Wel ,â€​e said, and fel silent. 
 	â€œPlease,â€ said Laura, who was feeling extremely uncomfortable now that she had listed so many peculiar visions and seen Fence take them seriously, â€œwhat does it al mean?â€​par 	Fence smiled at her. â€œ â€™Tis a talent of thy house,â€ he said, â€œa seeing of things far off, whether in time or space or thought. It is hard for thee now to know which of these thou seest, but I can put thee in the way of knowledge wil help thee, when we return to High Castle. 
 	Meanwhile, tel al you see to me and I wil help thee sift it.â€​par 	â€œCan you sift what I told you just now?â€​par 	â€œI can sift nothing touching Claudia,â€ said Fence, a little shortly. Laura had been afraid he would say that; she glanced at Ted, and as she had expected he was frowning. 
 	Fence considered the frown for a moment, while Ted turned red, and then spoke to Laura again. â€œBut what thou hast seen concerning the dragon and the House and the man reading on a book are visions of times past. 
 	Belaparthalion smote the House with fire in his wrath against the treachery of Melanie. King Conrad built it anew in its old fashion. The sight thou hadst of the five shadowy figures that thou knewestâ€”of that I am less certain. It might be a vision of the land of the dead, in times past or to come. 
 	Fear not. Those visions that are of great moment come again until they are clear.â€​par 	Oh, great, thought Laura. â€œWho was the man reading the book?â€​par 	â€œThe book is King Johnâ€™s,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œFrom thy story I cannot tel who the man may be; but there are few who read on King Johnâ€™s Book. If thou seest him again, mark him wel .â€​par 	â€œAl right,â€ said Laura, feeling relieved. It was not until later that she wondered how she could have inherited a talent of the Princess Lauraâ€™s house, and whether this was another instance of the peculiar remembrance that let Ted fence, and let her play the flute, without instruction. 
 	â€œThank you, Fence,â€ said Ted, â€œthatâ€™s al we wanted.â€​par 	â€œA strange gathering for such a purpose,â€ said Fence, looking around at them, stil expectantly. 
 	Laura wondered what he meant. Ted did not answer him, and they al got up and wandered through the trees back to the camp, talking of the weather, if they would have to march in the rain tomorrow. Laura lagged behind; Ruth and El en and Patrick went on ahead; Ted and Fence walked together in the middle. When Ruth and El en and Patrick were out of sight, Laura heard Ted say to Fence, â€œRandolph told me that you were drawing near the end of your conclusions about the Kingâ€™s death. Can you tel me what youâ€™ve discovered? He said youâ€™d found an antidote in the wine I spil ed?â€​par 	Laura slowed her steps so they should not hear her, and then had to go faster so that she could hear them. 
 	
 	â€œI know no more than that,â€ said Fence; he sounded distinctly annoyed. â€œIf Randolph knoweth more, he hath not spoke his knowledge in my ear.â€​par 	â€œWel , he didnâ€™t speak it in mine either,â€ said Ted, in relieved tones, â€œbut he did seem to think you had it, too.â€​par 	â€œI am confounded by the matter,â€ said Fence, definitely, â€œ â€™tis a riddle beyond my powers, unless we discover new events.â€​par 	Laura slowed again, thinking. If things went according to the game, Randolph would have to force Fence to his conclusions about the Kingâ€™s death; and he would do it in High Castle, in the Mirror Room where Agatha did her sewing. What Randolph had told Ted must have made Ted afraid that Fence might discover the truth sooner; which would give them that much less time to get the swords and make their escape. But things seemed to be al right. Laura thought of the unicorns; and despite the discomfort their sense of humor had caused her, she sighed. Then she hurried forward again, to pick up her flute and find out what other music the back of her mind could remember. 
 	Â 
 	On their fourth and last day in the round val ey, in a shivering desert dawn, they buried the soldiers who had no families. 
 	The bodies were put in a common grave, and there were no carved and painted coffins. Otherwise this funeral was much like the Kingâ€™s. Fence and Randolph conducted the service in the beautiful but infuriating, almost-intel igible language. This time Ted, listening painful y, not distracted by a recent failure, a downpour of cold rain, or having helped to carry a coffin two or three miles, thought he caught a phrase here or there. It sounded very odd, almost like Shakespeare spoken with a French accent. â€œWhat is this world? What asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave, al one, withouten any compaignye.â€​par 	He leaned over to Patrick, who, required to choose a language to study in the seventh grade, had selected French because Pasteur had spoken it. â€œPat! Is that French?â€​par 	 â€œFrench!â€​ said Patrick, under his breath but with amazing vigor. â€œNo!â€​par 	â€œWel , what is it?â€​par 	â€œI have no idea.â€​par 	â€œBe quiet,â€​aid Ruth over Patrickâ€™s head. 
 	Ted obeyed her, and listened, but heard nothing more that he could understand. 
 	They had wild roses and goldenrod and daisies and a kind of tal purple flower that no one knew the name of, to throw upon the bodies before the grave was fil ed in. 
 	Ted, watching his golden armful drift down and trying not to sneeze, was visited with an al -too-vivid memory of the land of the dead: the light too dim to show any color, the shifting shapes, the mood that made the ghosts draw back from those who laughed, the bodiless voices asking after blood. He felt horribly relieved and acutely guilty. The awfulness of that place struck him more forcibly now than it had when he was in it. Why should people who knew how to fight and who belonged here be doomed to something almost too listless to be cal ed Hel , while he came back and walked under the sun? He had yel ed at the others, over and over, that this was real, that they should take it seriously: but surely so long as he could come back like that, with no effort and through no merit of his own, he was only playing. 
 	Such thoughts troubled him al the march back. Most of the marchers were merry. Now came al the singing Laura had missed on the way out. Other people than Randolph brought out pipes and flutes; there was not only singing and storytel ing, but dancing in the evenings. Ted was glum; his sister and his cousins were glum; Randolph put his pipe away after the first night and was not so much glum as simply silent; but Fence was deliberately and doggedly cheerful, as Tedâ€™s mother would be when she was worried about something it was no use talking over. 
 	Three days into the march back Ruth caught Ted during a noon break and hauled him off into the grass. 
 	â€œWhat in the world,â€ she demanded of him, â€œhave you told Randolph about me?â€​par 	â€œI told him I didnâ€™t want to marry you.â€​par 	â€œDid you tel him I wanted to marry him?â€​par 	â€œI told him heâ€™d have to take it up with you,â€ said Ted, thankful that this was the case. 
 	â€œWel , he has!â€ said Ruth, pushing both hands through her hair and demolishing her crown of flowers. The night before they marched had been marked by music and merriment and feasting, and Agatha had found wild roses, growing quite out of season, and bestowed crowns upon as many people as would consent to wear them. 
 	â€œOr I think he has,â€ said Ruth. â€œHe keeps talking to meâ€”and giving me thingsâ€”and looking at meâ€”but then he seems to take it for granted that I wonâ€™t marry him. Which I wonâ€™t, but I donâ€™t know if I should say so.â€​par 	
 	â€œCould he be trying to get you to break the engagement, by pushing things until you have to tel him you wonâ€™t marry him?â€ What in the world was Randolph up to? After what he had said to Ted the night Cedric gave Laura the flute, you would have thought turning around and courting Ruth the last thing he was likely to do. 
 	â€œI hope so. I canâ€™t get married; I have to go to col ege. I havenâ€™t even gone to high school yet.â€​par 	â€œYou could ask him to wait,â€ said Ted, knowing she could not marry Randolph and that Randolph would not marry her in any case, but drawn into argument in spite of himself. 
 	â€œFor ten years? â€​par 	â€œIt wouldnâ€™t have to be ten years for him. You could use Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	â€œLetâ€™s sit down,â€ said Ruth, a little wildly. â€œI canâ€™t think.â€​par 	Ted found them a flat rock. Ruth pul ed the remains of her crown from her head and hurled them into the grass. 
 	â€œNow,â€ she said, â€œitâ€™s stil ten years for me. 
 	What if I meet somebody who can quote Shakespeare?â€​par 	â€œRandolph can quote Shakespeare.â€​par 	â€œHe thinks heâ€™s just talking. Come to that, I guess he is just talking. Itâ€™s not the same thing.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œif you donâ€™t want to marry him, just say so. It would have to be a relief to him, Ruthie. 
 	He canâ€™t marry you.â€ He remembered Randolphâ€™s contempt for the king who could suggest such a thing, and went on hastily. â€œHeâ€™s a murderer and he thinks he wonâ€™t live long enough to marry you. Iâ€™m sure heâ€™d feel better if you broke the engagement so you wonâ€™t have the dishonor of being betrothed to a regicide.â€​par 	â€œBut he doesnâ€™t know I know heâ€™s a regicide,â€ said Ruth, â€œand I donâ€™t want him to know I know; I mean, it doesnâ€™t matter if I know, but he wouldnâ€™t want Lady Ruth to know. And it wil hurt his feelings if I break the engagement: especial y,â€ she added, glaring at Ted, â€œnow that I donâ€™t have the excuse of wanting to marry you.â€​par 	â€œYou could talk to Fence,â€ said Ted, â€œor Agatha. 
 	I bet they know the proper forms for rejecting a suitor without hurting his feelings.â€​par 	â€œAnd tel them I want to go to Harvard?â€ said Ruth, bitterly. 
 	â€œMaybe you could commute,â€ said Ted. The conversation was ridiculous. They were going home. But he derived some smal comfort from talking as if they were not, and would somehow have to live with what they had done. 
 	Ruth was looking at him as she more often looked at Patrick. Ted became irate. He added stubbornly, â€œUse magic somehow.â€​par 	Ruth, to his surprise, appeared to consider the suggestion. Perhaps this mummery comforted her, too. 
 	â€œIt would be an awful waste of magic,â€​he said briskly. 
 	â€œWel , itâ€™s not as if it were electricity,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHow do you know?â€​par 	â€œWe could ask Fence,â€ said Ted. â€œAs a matter of fact, we real y should give some thought to tel ing Fence the whole thing.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™d end up in an insane asylum.â€​par 	â€œThere arenâ€™t any,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOr a dungeon. Iâ€™m not an initiate; I havenâ€™t taken any vows. And Iâ€™ve been faking my way around Green Caves ceremonies for months now, until I donâ€™t have to fake it any more, and I can tel you from what Iâ€™ve read that they wouldnâ€™t like that at al . And youâ€™ve been letting them treat you as if you were King.â€​par 	â€œI said, tel Fence,â€ said Ted. â€œAfter hearing his oath, I donâ€™t think heâ€™d give us up as spies.â€​par 	â€œFence!â€ said Ruth. â€œWeâ€™ve been acting like his friends, when we hardly know him. Heâ€™s been treating us as friends, and weâ€™re strangers. We think we know him wel , but he doesnâ€™t know us. And heâ€™d hate the idea that we know him wel because we think we made him up, even if we couldnâ€™t have. Andâ€”â€​par 	â€œAl right, al right.â€​par 	â€œAnd what would they do with us if they got the other ones back? Now if we got the other ones back, we might have some bargaining power. Youâ€™re spoiled, Tedâ€”we al are, because weâ€™re the royal children. This is not a very comfortable place for strangers. Do you know what the people of the Outer Isles say about us? â€˜ravel not in the Hidden Land: It wil take al you have and laugh you to scorn for having nothing.â€™ â€​par 	â€œAl right.â€​par 	Ruth pul ed a red leaf from a bush and began to shred it. 
 	There had been no frost yet, but some of the trees were beginning to turn already. Ted thought briefly that back in Il inois it would stil be summer; and then remembered with a shock that it would stil be June. 
 	â€œBesides al that,â€ he said, â€œI think we should be getting home. We stil have the rest of the summer to get through back there. Not that it wonâ€™t keep, I guess, butâ€”â€​par 	â€œRest of the summer!â€ said Ruth, abandoning the leaf and pul ing at her hair again. â€œItâ€™s winter in Australia, but never mind. We have to get through the rest of our lives! â€​par 	â€œWe donâ€™t want to go home, do we?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNot in the least. Do you suppose they have any good universities here?â€​par 	â€œWel , you can stay. I wonâ€™t kil Randolph, and the only way not to kil him is to go home.â€​par 	â€œIf youâ€™re gone Patrick wil have to kil him,â€ said Ruth, with a despairing giggle. 
 	Ted thought of Patrickâ€™s dream, and profound unease settled on him. 
 	â€œBesides,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ruth, 
 	â€œthat 
 	would 
 	be
 	cheating.â€​par 	â€œThis isnâ€™t a game,â€​aid Ted, automatical y. 
 	â€œBut we canâ€™t help acting as if it were.â€​par 	If he thought about that at al , he would think too much, and possibly become as dangerous as Patrick. He stood up and held out his hand to Ruth. â€œWel , letâ€™s ask Fence about the magic, anyway. It canâ€™t hurt.â€​par 	â€œYour manners are improving,â€ said Ruth, accepting the hand but sounding rather blank. 
 	
 	That did not bear thinking about, either. 
 	They got Fence almost to themselves at dinner; Randolph and Matthew also shared their fire. Fence seemed as usual. 
 	Matthew was unwontedly subdued, and Randolph did not so much as smile at them when they sat down. There was a great deal of hilarious laughter from the other fires. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, â€œI wanted to ask you a question about magic.â€​par 	Fence looked accommodating. 
 	â€œIs it infinite, or does it run out?â€​par 	â€œMagic runneth not out,â€ said Fence, slowly, turning the phrase over as if he liked it. â€œThe limitation of magic is in the strength of those it must run through. In itself it hath no limits.â€​par 	â€œDo a great many very smal magics wear people out?â€​sked Ruth. 
 	â€œOf a certainty,â€ said Fence. â€œThose are more perilous than a single great deed of sorcery. They creep upon their doers like the sunset; little by little the light goeth, but in the end it is dark, and they without their torches.â€​par 	â€œSuddenly one day you fal over?â€​par 	Fence nodded; he seemed, again, to enjoy Ruthâ€™s phrasing. He looked thoughtful y at Ruth. Ted, afraid he would ask why someone who had studied in the Green Caves for years would need to ask such questions, asked one himself. 
 	â€œFence, what do you know about other worlds?â€​par 	Ruth choked briefly. Fence turned his thoughtful look upon Ted. â€œSpeakst thou of the stars?â€​par 	
 	â€œWel . . .â€​par 	â€œIs the world round?â€​uth asked abruptly. 
 	Fence was taken aback. â€œOf course.â€​par 	â€œRuth!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œJust checking.â€​par 	â€œNo doubt one day thy knowledge wil check mine,â€
 	Fence said to her, â€œbut not in such questions as that.â€​par 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, bypassing the pun, which had made Matthew grin and Ruth scowl, â€œhow would you get to those other worlds?â€​par 	â€œIs there any magic for it?â€​dded Ruth. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Fence; he seemed wary, but wil ing to answer. â€œThere is no magic quicker than a dragon or a unicorn.â€​par 	â€œWhat would you say,â€ Ted asked him, â€œif you crawled under a hedge in High Castle garden and came out in the Border Lands?â€​par 	Fence sat bolt upright, joggling Matthewâ€™s elbow. 
 	Matthew, his wine soaking into his cloak, leaned forward, paying it no heed. 
 	â€œHast done this thing?â€​emanded Fence. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Ted, truthful y enough. 
 	â€œMy saying would serve me il ,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œThe curses I know are many and deep.â€​par 	â€œCurses?â€​par 	â€œDost know what danger such things hold? Dost know what power to make such a place in the hedge would need? 
 	To that, I am a kitchen-wizard and Randolph is a spit-boy and Lady Ruth is a gardener.â€​par 	â€œOh,â€ said Ted. He wondered if they should add to their note the information that Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords held this power. Or was it the places under the hedge and the bush that held it? Or was it Claudia? 
 	â€œWhence came such ideas?â€ Fence asked both of them. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, feebly, â€œwel , we were wondering if we could shorten the march home.â€​par 	Randolph laughed; Matthew sat back and began mop-ping at his cloak; but Fence looked Ted and Ruth over as if they were a book ful of difficult writing, and said no more. 
 	They received a tremendous welcome when they returned to High Castle. People cheered and sang and blew on horns and piped and threw flowers. Ted went cold when the first bouquets came down, scattering their petals on the wind: he felt like a body in some funeral of the spirit. He looked at Patrickâ€™s fair head strewn with petals white and red, and for the moment was entirely wil ing to go home and never return. 
 	
 CHAPTER 18

 	AFTER two days of fruitless discussion, several unsuccessful attempts to catch Fenceâ€™s door open, and a Council which confirmed Tedâ€™s guess that the weapons with which Fence meant to bribe Chryse and Belaparthalion were indeed Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords, they decided to try stealing Fenceâ€™s keys again. 
 	Their only other hope seemed to be to wait for the last moment and somehow waylay the expedition to take the swords to Chryse. They thought that that seemed even less likely to succeed than using the keys again. Besides, since the entire business with the swords and Chryse and Belaparthalion was not in the game, they did not know whether it would take place before or after the revelation to Fence of Randolphâ€™s crime. Ted was sure that this unhappy event ought to happen in October. But he was no longer wil ing to put much faith in what ought to happen; and when he discovered that El en thought it happened in September and the others seemed not to have any idea of its date, he wanted to hurry. 
 	He and Ruth and Patrick came to this conclusion in Ruthâ€™s room, and they had just begun to discuss when Patrick should make his attempt when Laura and El en burst in on them. 
 	â€œRuth!â€ said El en. â€œFence and Randolph are in the Mirror Room; we went looking for Agatha and they were polite but they hurried us out and Randolph looks awful. I think this is it.â€​par 	
 	Ted and Patrick leaped for the door and pounded down the hal . 
 	â€œShould we go back, too?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re not there in the real scene.â€​par 	â€œNeither is Patrick,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t want to see it,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œBut if thereâ€™s one more chance to stop itâ€”â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t think,â€ said Ruth, â€œthat anything can stop Randolph once he makes up his mind.â€​par 	Â 
 	The door to the Mirror Room was closed. Ted and Patrick looked at one another, put their shoulders to it, and burst into the room. Fence and Randolph faced one another over a carved chest against the outer wal . The draperies were drawn over al the mirrors and windows; the room seemed dark and close. 
 	â€œFence!â€ said Ted, although both of them were already looking at him. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€ said Fence, coming forward. 
 	â€œNot the matter, exactly,â€ said Ted, and went on with the first thing that came into his head. â€œI just remembered that I never asked Randolph to tel me about the Council I missed, before we marched back, andâ€”â€
 	He had no idea what to say next, but Randolph came forward, too, with a wry look. 
 	â€œYou come most careful y upon your hour,â€ he said. 
 	â€œFence and I were speaking of that Council even now.â€​par 	
 	He gestured at the only chair in the room, and Ted found himself sitting down in it. Patrick came and sat on the floor next to him. Fence and Randolph faced one another in the middle of the room, and seemed to forget about the two boys. 
 	â€œWel ?â€ said Fence to Randolph; in his face was a chal enge, but in his voice a plea. Ted sat forward: he thought he knew what that Council had been about, and that he had delivered them al into Randolphâ€™s hands. 
 	â€œDo you truly say to me,â€ said Randolph, â€œthat al the Council could make nothing of this matter? That none among them hath a thought upon it save that they know not what befel ? Not one hath the glimmer of a thought?â€​par 	â€œSome have,â€​aid Fence, reluctantly. 
 	â€œWhat is this glimmer, then?â€​par 	Fence scowled, and then ruined the effect by sitting on Agathaâ€™s sewing table and swinging his legs. â€œTheir thought considers the matter too loosely,â€ he said. 
 	â€œWhere did the plot begin, and how long was it in the making? They have left unexamined the vintner, the merchant, the wine cel ar, the butler, the kitchen, the page.â€​par 	â€œForget not the cupbearer,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Fence glanced at him and smiled, but Ted thought the smile looked more hopeful than confident. â€œThou hast heard the whispers, then,â€​e said. â€œ â€™Twil be easy enough to stifle such talk; trouble not thyself. I wil see toâ€™t.â€​par 	Ted stood up quietly and backed for the door. He felt trapped and frozen, and could think only of getting out. 
 	
 	Patrick looked at him in surprise. 
 	â€œConsider 
 	first, 
 	my 
 	lord,â€ 
 	said 
 	Randolph, 
 	â€œwhether such talk ought indeed to be stifled.â€​par 	Patrick stood up, too, not quietly enough. 
 	â€œWhat ails the two of you?â€​emanded Fence. 
 	They looked at him. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s no need,â€ Randolph said to them. 
 	â€œIf you know, what wil it avail you not to hear me say it? If you know not,â€ he added, as Ted tried to say something, â€œwhat do you fear?â€​par 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence, who had stopped swinging his legs and was looking a little pale. 
 	â€œCould vintners and merchants distil such poison?â€
 	said Randolph. â€œCould butlers, pages, cooks know its secret? You taught me the use of my wits: now where are yours?â€​par 	Patrick walked over and stood beside Ted, bumping shoulders with him. He was shaking. So was Ted. 
 	â€œTarry but a moment longer,â€ said Randolph, not looking at them. 
 	Fence slid down from the table, and as the folds of his starry robe fel into place again he seemed suddenly to dwarf the room. â€œIf my wits are addled,â€ he said, â€œI needs must make do with thine. Make them to work for me, Randolph.â€​par 	â€œI know the truth,â€ said Randolph. â€œI need not my wits to discover it. And knowing it already, how can I tel you in what way you should work your wits to discover it yourself?â€​par 	
 	â€œTel me this truth, then,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œNo, indeed I wil not,â€ said Randolph. â€œI would not betray your teachings thus. How many times, knowing the truth, have you made me dig it out for myself? Can I do less for you?â€​par 	â€œKnowest thou,â€ said Fence to Randolph, â€œwhy I did thus?â€​par 	â€œI do,â€ said Randolph. â€œIt was that I might believe the truth when I saw it. For truth hath strange and terrible shapes.â€​par 	â€œAnd this truth,â€ said Fence, â€œa most terrible one.â€​par 	â€œI wil not hear these things,â€ said Ted, as the game dictated he should; but he was far too late. They did not heed him. They saw only one another. 
 	â€œSay it,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence. In his round face the bones showed clearly. â€œYou have betrayed al I ever taught you; you have betrayed your liege lord and your solemn word; al this besides with the lowest and cruel est of al weapons, a weapon of cowards. You poisoned King Wil iam.â€​par 	â€œWel done,â€ said Randolph. â€œThe master is yet master, and not pupil.â€​par 	â€œHad the master been truly master,â€ said Fence, â€œthe pupil had not done what is done.â€​par 	â€œHe didnâ€™t!â€ cried Ted, hardly knowing what he said. â€œHow could he have? I knocked the bottle out of his hand; I took the cup from him and brought him another; how could he have done it?â€​par 	
 	Randolph looked over at Patrick. â€œThy royal brother,â€​par 	he said to Ted, â€œfol owing the philosophy of Andrew and scorning magic as tricks only, hath set himself to learn such tricks as, he thinketh, account for the doings of sorcery. And in an idle moment of the dul winter, he did teach some few of those tricks to me; and so I had them to hand when thou, Edward, took from me the cup I had prepared.â€​par 	â€œBut why did you have two doses of poison, that doesnâ€™t make sense!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThe second was for mine own use,â€ said Randolph; he turned back to Fence in time to catch the look on his face. â€œI regret it most heartily,â€​e said to him. 
 	He looked at Ted again. â€œI thought thou knewest, and didst keep me here for thine own ends, fearing thy lack of skil .â€​par 	Ted could not answer him. 
 	Fence was so stil that al his previous stil nesses would have seemed fidgety by comparison; he spoke very quietly and with no expression. â€œYou must return what you have forfeited,â€​e said. 
 	Randolph took the circlet from his head and the ring from his finger as he walked across the room, and laid them upon the carved chest. Fence, fol owing, took up the circlet. He turned it in his hands and said three words under his breath. 
 	It broke in pieces, and the pieces crumbled to dust, and the dust, floating down, was gone before it could touch the floor. 
 	Fence took up the ring. â€œAnd what of this,â€ he said, without inflection. 
 	â€œThat too is forfeit,â€ said Randolph; but now he, too, looked pale. 
 	
 	Fence closed the ring in his fist, and opened his hand again. Something glittered in his palm like a jewel, but he slid it into his robe too quickly for Ted to see what it was. 
 	They could have left now, without being noticed, but there seemed no point now in escape, or in anything else. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence, â€œI am sorry I have so failed you.â€​par 	â€œSo even that is denied me,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œIt is you who have denied it,â€ said Fence. â€œLay not that flattering unction to your soul, that not your trespass but my ruling speaks.â€​par 	Randolph, suddenly and incredibly, smiled at him. 
 	â€œThou seest, then,â€ he said, â€œthou hast not failed me. To deny me al I have denied, in the courage of that is not failure. Hadst thou been kinder, Fence, that had been failure indeed.â€​par 	â€œCarrion comfort,â€​aid Fence, as if he were reading a road sign, and he turned and went straight between Ted and Patrick and out of the room. Tedâ€™s throat swel ed and closed. 
 	Randolph leaned on Agathaâ€™s table, as if his legs had failed him suddenly. Now he was very pale. 
 	â€œMy lord,â€ he said to Ted, â€œyou had best set the trial soon.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œMy lord, I had thought to spare you.â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t meanâ€”â€​par 	â€œChoose your weapon, then,â€ said Randolph, â€œand your time; but I beg you, my lord, that it be soon. 
 	
 	And disgrace not your teacher.â€​par 	He, too, went out. 
 	â€œI told you!â€ said Ted, almost crying. â€œI told you!â€​par 	â€œTed!â€ said Patrick. â€œHe said, choose your weapon.â€​par 	â€œSoâ€”oh!â€ said Ted. He knew Patrickâ€™s mind as if it were his own, and the relief was almost more than he could stand. 
 	â€œCome on quick, and catch Fence!â€​aid Patrick. 
 	They caught up with Fence at the door to his tower. 
 	â€œFence!â€​houted Ted. â€œFence, wait!â€​par 	Fence turned to them a face like an accurate but uninspired statue of himself, and Tedâ€™s words clogged in his throat. 
 	â€œHeâ€™s come to choose his weapon for the duel,â€
 	said Patrick. 
 	Fenceâ€™s aimless green gaze sharpened briefly. 
 	â€œEdward, is this wise?â€​par 	â€œI think so,â€ said Ted. â€œItâ€™s quicker. 
 	Fenceâ€”just for this one thing, may Randolph and I use the swords of Shan and Melanie?â€​par 	Fence was silent, staring at the floor. â€œShanâ€™s mercy indeed,â€ he said at last, â€œbut how dearly that would please Chryse.â€​par 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s al to the good, then, isnâ€™t it?â€
 	said Ted, hating himself. 
 	â€œAnd it would comfort Randolph, maybe,â€ said Fence. This made no sense to Ted at al , but since it seemed to be on his side, he said nothing. 
 	â€œWilt thou undertake that the bout is quickly over?â€
 	Fence asked him. 
 	Ted saw no way that he, or the real Edward either, could undertake any such thing unless Randolph helped him, but it did not matter. â€œI wil ,â€​e said. 
 	â€œAnd return the swords without demur, when thou hast done?â€​par 	â€œWhat would I want them for, after that?â€ burst out Ted. 
 	â€œVery wel , then,â€ said Fence. â€œWhen wilt thouâ€”â€​par 	â€œThis evening,â€ said Ted. â€œMay I have them now? Randolph should have a little time to accustom himself to the blade, shouldnâ€™t he?â€​par 	â€œBide thee here,â€ said Fence, â€œand I wil bring them.â€​par 	He went slowly up the stairs. 
 	Ted sat down on the floor, as Randolph had leaned upon the table. â€œOh, dear heaven,â€ he said. â€œI think weâ€™ve done it.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l get the girls,â€ said Patrick. â€œAnd we should dress in our old clothes.â€​par 	â€œNo, someone might see us. Weâ€™l just take them with us. Can you and Ruth write the note to Fence? And, look, tel her to find a page and ask him to give it to Fence at five.â€​par 	â€œNo fear,â€​aid Patrick, and ran down the passage. 
 	
 	Ted leaned his head against the purple-stained stone wal and closed his eyes. He felt like someone who truly has to be home at five, but has had the misfortune to be given this instruction on the day his team is losing badly whatever game it might be playing. He was leaving behind a broken friendship, a shattered trust, an empty throne, a kingdom without an heir, and a snarl of riddles. And he stil felt that al of it was somehow his fault. 
 	â€œHere are thy weapons,â€ said Fenceâ€™s voice over his head. 
 	â€œThat was quick,â€ said Ted, blinking and getting up. 
 	His foot was asleep. 
 	â€œThy thoughts have sped the time,â€ said Fence. He stil spoke without expression, but he was beginning to look less stony and more crumpled. Ted wanted to do something for him; but if someoneâ€™s excel ent good friend and first apprentice was a traitor both to his King and to his friendâ€™s own teaching, what could you say to him? 
 	Especial y when you had once thought that his pain made a wonderful story. 
 	â€œI prithee heed this warning,â€ said Fence. â€œThe sword of Melanie, that which gloweth green, doth enhance the skil of him that wields it; but the sword of Shan, that gloweth blue, doth increase the skil of him that it fights; for she was a warrior, but he was a teacher.â€​par 	â€œSo if I use Melanieâ€™s sword and he uses Shanâ€™s,â€ said Ted, longing to get away but feeling it better to play his part to the hilt, in the little time remaining him, â€œIâ€™l have my own skil enhanced and also get some of his?â€​par 	Fence nodded. â€œIt wil be quicker so.â€​par 	
 	â€œMy skil is his anyway,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOft do our gifts come back in strange guise,â€ said Fence, with bitter meaning. 
 	â€œFence,â€​aid Ted, â€œit isnâ€™t fair!â€​par 	â€œWhat is foul today may be fair tomorrow,â€ said Fence. He held out the swords, stil in their sheaths and tangled in their belts. Ted took the awkward bundle, and the power of the swords shivered up his arms and prickled the hair on his neck. 
 	â€œIf thou wilt tel me the place of thy choosing,â€ said Fence, â€œand what men thou wilt have for witnesses, I wil arrange these matters for thee.â€​par 	â€œThe rose garden, I think,â€ said Ted, whose composure was dwindling rapidly, â€œandâ€”and choose what witnesses you wil .â€​par 	â€œAnd the hour?â€​par 	â€œFive oâ€™clock,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt shal be done, my lord.â€​par 	They looked at one another in the sickly light. 
 	â€œWould a trial have been better?â€ Ted heard himself asking, as if he were indeed Edward, as if it mattered. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Fence. â€œHe hath injured thee; let thy hand give him his reward.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s injured you more!â€​par 	â€œFor that,â€ said Fence, â€œhe hath his reward already.â€​e turned in a flurry of galaxies and went back up the staircase. When Ted could see again, he ran for the stables. 
 	
 	Patrick intercepted him in the courtyard. â€œThe girls have four horses down by the moat,â€ he said. â€œCome on.â€​par 	â€œThat was fast work,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWel , the grooms did al the saddling. El ie spun them some story about how she and Laura and Ruth were going to pick so many wildflowers that theyâ€™d need an extra horse to carry them back on. I donâ€™t think they thought sheâ€™d manage it, but they gave her the horse. That child is becoming dangerous.â€​par 	Ruth, El en, and Laura stood without speaking in the shadow of the four horses. They looked depressed. Ruth had the pack she had carried on the march; it bulged with their old clothes. She handed it to Ted and gave El en a boost onto her horse. Ted and Patrick scrambled onto their horses; Ruth helped Laura up behind Ted and mounted the remaining animal. They rode away from High Castle. 
 	It was a clear, bright day, cooler than it had been for some time. Ted thought he could smel autumn coming. He wondered whether, in the woods where they had hunted the unicorn, it would smel like the soul of autumn, as when he had come there it had like the soul of summer. He sighed; and as if in answer Laura clutched at him and cried, â€œMy flute!â€​par 	â€œWe canâ€™t go back,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œBut I need it!â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s not yours, Laurie.â€​par 	â€œBut it wil save us at the end!â€​par 	â€œNot us; them. We wonâ€™t need saving where weâ€™re going.â€​par 	
 	â€œHe gave it to me, not her! Sheâ€™s dead! â€​par 	â€œWe canâ€™t go back.â€​par 	Laura was silent, but a hot wet patch spreading through the back of Tedâ€™s tunic told him that she was not resigned. 
 	They left the horses at the Wel . El en wanted to water them, but Ruth refused to have anything more to do with the Wel , and the horses showed a definite disinclination to go into the woods where the stream was. Ruth whispered sorcerous words in their ears again. 
 	â€œDid you remember that with the back of your mind, too?â€​sked Patrick, and received no answer. 
 	The horses went loping back toward High Castle, looking as if they were enjoying themselves. 
 	â€œI always meant to get to know mine better,â€ said El en, â€œand develop a wonderful bond with it.â€​par 	They trudged through the woods, where the bushes and saplings were reddening and goldenrod thronged the clearings, and tramped hol owly across the wooden bridge. 
 	The stream was low, and the cracked mud revealed by its sinking reminded Ted unhappily of the desert where they had fought. 
 	They came to the hedge before the Secret House, and stood silently in a circle. Laura was going to cry; it was just a question of when. El en looked solemnly furious, as if somebody had played a practical joke on her and she meant to get even. Ruth wore an air of vague irritation, as she would when she tried to make cookies and Patrick and Laura stole bits of the dough. Patrick seemed pleased, but was managing not to smile; probably, Ted thought, because he knew somebody would slug him if he did. 
 	Ruth pul ed a wad of crumpled clothing out of her pack and handed it around. The skirt that had reached her ankle when she came to this country now came to the middle of her calf. Tedâ€™s jeans were too short. He had grown, after al . He looked at his sister, whose shirt was too tight in the shoulders. He hoped Aunt Kathy and Uncle Jim were not observant, or, if they were, they lacked the imagination and the knowledge to figure out what their observations must mean. Ruth, quite uselessly, packed their tunics and dresses and velvet caps and the odd linen underwear into her pack, and laid it on the bank. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t forget to throw your sword back through,â€
 	said Patrick to Ted. 
 	â€œRuth,â€ said Ted, â€œwhatâ€™d you do with Shanâ€™s Ring?â€​par 	â€œI sealed it up with the note.â€​par 	â€œAl right, then.â€​par 	â€œLetâ€™s al leave at the same time,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l go along to our bottle-tree, and Iâ€™l yel , â€˜n your mark, get set, go!â€™ â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™l write to you,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œSee you next summer,â€ said Ruth, and walked away. Her brother and sister fol owed her. Ted and Laura watched them slither along the bank of the stream until they went around a bend. 
 	â€œBetter get ready,â€ said Ted. They crouched before the gap in the hedge, holding their sword. It sent up Tedâ€™s arm the strongest prickling he had yet felt, almost a pain. He saw by the flinching in Lauraâ€™s face that she had felt it too. 
 	â€œOn your mark!â€ came El enâ€™s voice, a little wavery. â€œGet set! Go!â€​par 	Ted and Laura ducked under the hedge and stood up in the weedy yard of the Secret House. It was a clear, cool day there, too; but the sky was dul er, the air heavier. Ted could smel cars, and dust, and rubber, and a whole col ection of things he had almost forgotten about. 
 	He held the sword up into a shaft of sunlight, and for the first time since they had found it, the runes they could not quite make out ran down the blade. This time, the back of Tedâ€™s mind knew them, and he read aloud: â€œAl may yet be very wel .â€​par 	â€œWhat a weird thing to put on a sword,â€ said Laura; her voice wavered even more than El enâ€™s had. 
 	â€œHelp me throw it back,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Laura put her hand on the hilt, and, awkwardly but with considerable strength, they swung their arms backward and forward, and hurled the sword through the gap in the hedge. 
 	Ted half expected to hear it clatter on the sidewalk. But there was only a brief rustle as it went through the leaves; a flash as a bit of sun hit it; and shadows; and nothing but hedge. 
 	
 CHAPTER 19

 	â€œWHAT do we do now?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re in trouble at home,â€ said Ted, absently. 
 	He felt that something was wrong, but could not place it. He tried to remember how they had left their cousinsâ€™ house for the last time, to stay in the Secret Country and play their game through. 
 	â€œCanâ€™t we get used to being here first, before we get yel ed at?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l tel you what,â€ said Ted, abandoning his effort with some relief. They would be reminded soon enough of everything they had done, when Aunt Kathy laid eyes on them. â€œLetâ€™s buy something we couldnâ€™t have there. How about some ice cream?â€​par 	He did not want any himself, and Laura did not look pleased with the idea either, but she nodded. 
 	â€œDo you have any money?â€​he asked him. 
 	Ted went through his pockets, coming up with a wad of rubber bands, a book of matches, a tangle of string, two dusty pieces of hard candy without their wrappers, and a grimy paper with instructions for translating things from the Secret Countryâ€™s alphabet into English. 
 	â€œI had that with me al along and never knew it!â€ he said. â€œBut no money.â€ He scowled. â€œI thought I had five dol arsâ€”I gave it to you, Laura, when we had that bet about the flashlight.â€​par 	Laura fished in her own pocket. â€œI stil say it turned into a lantern.â€ She jabbed her hand viciously into the bottom of the pocket. â€œOuch!â€ she said, and pul ed it out. 
 	â€œOh, Ted!â€​par 	The little ivory unicorn hurt their eyes in that shady light. 
 	â€œFence said there was a spel of finding and returning on it,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œAnd it seems upon thee as wel ,â€ said a husky voice behind them. 
 	They turned around. Claudia stood on the porch of the house. She had a broom in her hand and a black cat at her feet. Like the ivory unicorn, she seemed too bright for her setting. She wore a red-and-white checked gingham dress that suited the house and yard wel enough, but did not suit her at al . 
 	Laura pul ed on Tedâ€™s arm. â€œRun,â€ she whispered. â€œOr sheâ€™l do it now, what I saw in my vision.â€​par 	Ted had barely been able to hear her, but Claudia laughed. â€œThat hath been done already,â€ she said. 
 	â€œThat was but thy shadow I buried. Thou art more use to me above the earth, for al that thy flight from thy dream frets me sorely.â€​par 	â€œYou mean it wasnâ€™t real after al ?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œOh, aye, â€™twas real, fear not,â€ said Claudia, with a most unpleasant glee in her voice; it made Ted like the glee of the unicorns better. â€œSoon thy horses wil come back riderless to High Castle, and the page with thy missive to Fence wil reach the top of the two hundred and eight steps. Al things continue in their paths. Except my plans,â€ she said, â€œwhich the two of you have very handily thwarted. Now I have a fancy to know how and why two mere younglings from a world without sorcery, whom I thought to bend easily to my purposes, have so easily bent me to theirs. Wil you not come in?â€​par 	She smiled beautiful y as she asked this question. Ted, wanting more than anything else to run, came slowly forward and climbed the steps of the porch; and Laura came with him. If this is magic, thought Ted, I donâ€™t blame Patrick for not believing in it. 
 	The house was cool and smel ed of cloves and cinnamon. 
 	Ted thought of the West Tower in High Castle. They fol owed the swish and rustle of Claudia down a long hal hung with odd dark pictures. In the middle of it glimmered a purple waterbeast, making a noise like a distant faucet dripping. It looked far stranger in this modern hal way than it ever had on the cold stones of High Castle. Laura stopped dead. Ted began to edge by the creature, but Claudia laughed and said something to it, and it ran in runnels through the polished floorboards and was gone. 
 	They went on down the hal , to a doorway where another black cat sat. Claudia pushed the door open, and the cat graciously preceded them into the next room. 
 	It was a sun porch running the whole width of the house at the back, and its three outside wal s were al windows. From those of the right-hand wal they could see Claudiaâ€™s weedy side yard and the neighborsâ€™ rosebushes and two toddlers covering themselves with mud. But the windows of the left-hand wal looked out upon the view Laura and El en had had from their bedroom window at High Castle: the glassy lake, the slopes of forest where they had hunted the unicorn, the insubstantial mountains and the high western sky. And each smal diamond pane of each window of the back wal held a different picture. 
 	Ted stared, and blinked, and stared again. Some of the scenes were those they had seen on the tapestries in the East Tower, when they solved the Riddle of Shanâ€™s Ring. But these were not woven; these were real. He bent forward to look more closely. 
 	Claudia laughed, more pleasantly this time. â€œYou see,â€​he said. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re moving,â€​aid Laura. 
 	Ted walked right up to one of the windows and put his hand on the glass and pressed his nose to it. It gave off a faint warmth that was not altogether pleasant. He stared down from a great height onto a vast flat field whereon the smal figures of men struggled with one another and with strange shadowy shapes shot with fire. He squinted, trying to see more clearly, and the height seemed to diminish. One piece of the battle grew in his vision. 
 	He watched his sister, her sword flaming blue, kil the creature that had kil ed him. He moved over a pane and saw a thin young man with black hair and decided eyebrows sitting in a vast field of goldenrod, pul ing his boots on. His face was dazed and his hands shook. He must be Shan. He looked too much like Randolph. Ted moved over another six inches, and watched himself and Patrick, on the lawn beside the Pennsylvania farmhouse, mime the last fight between Prince Edward and Lord Randolph. He regarded the figures with a practiced eye and was appal ed. 
 	â€œThey donâ€™t know what theyâ€™re doing,â€ he said; and blanched. Indeed they had not known what they were doing. 
 	â€œBut I know,â€​aid Claudia. 
 	
 	â€œDo you make things happen?â€​hispered Laura. 
 	Claudia laid a long hand upon the pane where Ted had seen the battle. â€œHere in the Hidden Land I can but watch,â€ she said. The hand moved to the pane with Ted and Patrick. â€œHere, in your place, I can move matters. In the same way, here in your place you can but watch, but in the Hidden Land you can move. And,â€ she said, â€œif I move aught from here to here,â€ turning her hand from Pennsylvania to the Desert before the Mountains, where the battle with the Dragon Kingâ€™s army played itself out again, â€œthen in a little measure may I move the matters and minds of my own country as wel . Wherefore,â€ she said, â€œhaving moved the five of you to my country, I gained a measure of power over that you walked on, and those you spoke to, and that you handled.â€​par 	Ted, struggling with a sense of outrage so violent that it threatened to prevent speech, said at last, â€œHow did you move us?â€​par 	Claudia took from a table a round mirror like the one Fence had used the night she stood on his stairs with a knife. â€œWith this,â€ she said, â€œone may look abroad, in time or distance. Having seen what would befal in my country, I bent your thoughts to enact it, that it might be familiar to you when you came upon it.â€​par 	â€œYou mean we didnâ€™t even make it up?â€​par 	â€œToo much you made up,â€ said Claudia, with a flash of anger. â€œThat talent of mind that in my country turns to sorcery, in yours turns to this making up; and hard put to it was I to turn your thoughts to my desires. The sorrows you have had you brought on your own heads. Now, the strong-minded are a trouble; but the weak-minded avail me not. 
 	
 	Wherefore I ask you to join freely with me, and be my companions not my playing-pieces.â€​par 	Ted and Laura stared at her; Ted was speechless with rage. Laura looked stunned. 
 	â€œI have spoken freely with you,â€ said Claudia. 
 	â€œWil you not therefore favor me with the tale of your power and your plans, that you could so neatly check one to whom al the wizards of the Hidden Land are but green apprentices?â€​par 	Ted found himself wishing he could answer her. There might be worse things than to be her companions. He considered her glowing face, her smooth black hair, her eyebrows arched like the ears of a cat, her clever eyes. He remembered his dream, of having tea with Claudia and of being offered by her al the castles of the Secret Country, and the glory of them. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t believe you,â€​e said. 
 	Claudia, misunderstanding him, turned to the window again. â€œCome, then,â€​he said. â€œLook and listen.â€​par 	Ted and Laura, stil pul ed by whatever spel she had used to bring them into her house, came and stood beside her, and peered into the diamond she pointed to. 
 	â€œTime now flows for us as for them,â€ she said, â€œsince you have removed your spel s. Here is what befal s in the Hidden Land.â€​par 	Fence sat in his living room before the cold fireplace, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. A breeze from the narrow windows stirred his untidy hair. Someone knocked on his door. (Ted and Laura both jumped.) Fence lifted a hand, and the door swung open. One of the yel ow-haired boys whom they had seen playing in the sun the day Fence came back, and later enacting the part of the eagle in the coronation play, Matthewâ€™s son John, walked into the room. He was red, and breathing hard. 
 	â€œMy lord, a message from the Lady Ruth,â€ he said between gasps, and held a folded paper out to Fence. 
 	Fence took it, turned it over, and quirked his mouth. Ted wondered what seal Ruth had used. 
 	â€œSit you down and have somewhat to refresh you,â€
 	Fence said absently, and opened the letter. His fingers tightened on it; he sat up straight; he leaped to his feet as he read. 
 	â€œRandolph!â€ he shouted, and ran out the door. They could hear his footsteps receding in the echoing stair. The yel ow-haired page gaped after him, shrugged, and reached for the wine bottle. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said Claudia. â€œNow, the Lady Ruth, who is of your country, whereof I may move its members, hath spoken to this page. Whereforeâ€”â€ she said three odd words under her breath, and moved her hand before the little diamond pane. 
 	They saw John, standing in the Banquet Hal , looking after Ruth, who ran across it and plunged out the door. 
 	â€œTo Fenceâ€™s Tower,â€ said the page, unhappily. 
 	He stood frowning, and began to shrug. In a moment he would resign himself and make the climb. 
 	Claudia said three more words under her breath. The pageâ€™s face brightened, and he went up stairs and through passages until he came to the Mirror Room. 
 	Randolph sat there, just as Fence had, his elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands. He looked up when the page burst in, but so calmly that Ted shivered. Randolph looked as if nothing would ever make him jump again. 
 	â€œMy lord, I have a letter for the Lord Fence,â€ said John, â€œbut I sought him first in other places than his high rooms.â€​par 	â€œHe was but lately here,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Claudia muttered again, and Randolphâ€™s face changed, just a little. Ted, in a burst of il umination like and unlike his remembrance of fencing and flowers, understood. 
 	Claudia had made the page think of seeking Fence elsewhere than in his high tower. She had made Randolphâ€™s face change: what he said next, she would have made him say. Ted, in the out-bursting of an intolerable outrage, put his fist through the diamond pane. 
 	It gave before his hand like cloth, not glass; but the sound it made was like smashing crystal. It broke outward, with a flash and a bril iance like that of the shattered Crystal of Earth. Behind it was a diamond of darkness. 
 	â€œHow dare you!â€​houted Ted. 
 	How dared she, how dared he, how dared Laura. Al of them had done this. Sitting in a summer meadow, sequestered in the dusty attic during a thunderstorm, fishing in the scummy pond, year by year, they had hammered out the fates of others. Fence is so young, he surprises everybody with his wisdom; Fence is Randolphâ€™s best friend; the King is very stubborn; Randolph poisons his wine; Edward is a milksop, but when his father dies he knows what he has to do; should he kil Randolph in the Council Chamberâ€”no, letâ€™s make it the rose garden, and we can use ours. And Claudia, you had to believe, had sat here in this house, turning their thoughts just a little, this way or that. Once she had seen what was to be in the Hidden Land, she must have worked on al of them, his sister and his cousins and himself, as she had just now worked on John and Randolph. And they in their turn, by means even Claudia did not know, had also worked on Fence, and Randolph, and Wil iam, and Edward, making them what they were, sealing their doom. But Claudia had known what she was doing, and they had not. 
 	Ted put cold hands to his hot face, and felt suddenly that the air was the right weight again and his blood flowing as it ought. His limbs were his own again; the spel was gone. He could run from here, or smash more glass, orâ€” 
 	Claudia, who had been regarding the ruin of her wal with no sign of dismay, opened her mouth, and Ted hit her as hard as he could in the stomach. Claudia doubled up, gasping. Then he kicked wildly at the wal of windows. The air was ful of light; the room rang with violent sound; and from the blackness where the windows had been tongues of red and green flame began to lick upward. Claudia straightened up and shouted, in no tongue they knew. 
 	â€œRun!â€​el ed Laura, pul ing at Tedâ€™s arm. 
 	Ted picked up Claudiaâ€™s mirror and hurled it through the view of the lake and the Enchanted Forest; and there came a noise and a shaking as if the house were coming down around their ears. 
 	Ted and Laura ran, past a hissing cat and a wailing one, out the open door, down the porch steps, across the untended lawn. They dove through the gap in the hedge, staggered to their feet, and ran as hard as they could go. 
 	They were not many blocks away when they heard the wail of sirens. 
 	
 	Ted stopped and looked back. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t!â€​aid Laura, and they ran on. 
 	When Laura had fal en down for the third time, she agreed to stop, and they sat down on a bench at a bus stop, wheezing. 
 	â€œI guess we fixed her,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œI hope so,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Laura took the ivory unicorn out of her pocket, and they looked at it. Its green eyes stared through them, enigmatic and unnatural. But something in its posture suggested the inhuman glee of the unicorns they had known. 
 	â€œIf we ever start forgetting, and thinking we imagined it,â€ said Laura, â€œor if Patrick tries to tel us any more about hal ucinations when we see him next summer, we can look at this.â€​par 	â€œThese fragments have we shored against our ruins,â€ said Ted; and as he spoke, felt the back of his mind, whence he had learned fencing moves and the names of flowers and quotations such as that, close up suddenly. 
 	Edward was gone. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œIt was a stupid thing to say. What about that ice cream?â€​par 	Laura shrugged. They sat on for a little in the hot air. A bus roared past, sweeping them with a cloud of evil-smel ing grit and rattling the squashed paper cups and abandoned candy wrappers at their feet. Two young women went by; Laura recognized their makeup as a type her father had cal ed â€œanguish moist and fever dew.â€​par 	
 	â€œTed,â€ she said, â€œI donâ€™t suppose youâ€™d rather youâ€™d kil ed Randolph and stayed?â€​par 	 â€œLaura!â€​ Ted, perilously close to wishing that very thing, stood up. â€œLetâ€™s go get the ice cream, to strengthen us against the ordeal that lies ahead.â€ They might as wel remember how to play. They would need al the fragments they could muster. 
 	Up in the soggy air a cardinal whistled, clear and piercing. 
 	Laura jumped up. 
 	â€œLaurie, no.â€​par 	The cardinal swooped down and perched on the chipped wrought-iron armrest of the bench. It fixed them with a round black eye that seemed far too intel igent for the size of its braincase, for its kind as they knew it here. Then it flew up, darted down the street, circled, landed on a telephone booth, and whistled so shril y it hurt their ears. 
 	â€œOh, come on, come on!â€​aid Laura. 
 	The cardinal flew off, far too high and fast for them to fol ow. Ted laughed through a tight throat. It seemed that even imagination was no friend to them now. They could stumble from day to day, thinking they saw summons after summons back to the Hidden Land. But they had lost the Secret Country. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s ice cream in that direction,â€ he said to his sister, firmly. â€œLeeâ€™s Drug. Our last omen.â€​par 	They looked at one another. Tears trembled in Lauraâ€™s eyes; but the familiar deep breath she took was not to release them in wailing, but to give her the steadiness to speak. Oh, wonderful, thought Ted. Next summer, I can tel Patrick that this was good for Lauraâ€™s soul. 
 	
 	â€œChocolate,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œPistachio,â€​aid Ted, at random. 
 	And King Edward and Sir Laura, of the Hidden Land, went on their way in deliberate and meticulous squabbling.